Closed Campus

by Gayle Katz

  “We will, Wyatt. We’ll get help.”

  I click off the walkie-talkie, knowing that Jack will not be pleased.

  Jack looks at me disapprovingly. “Where’s your walkie-talkie?”

  “Um. I gave it to Wyatt because he’s staying behind and I want to make sure he’s OK.”

  “Well, I gave it to you because I want to make sure you’re OK if we happen to get separated.”

  “Sorry,” I say as I hand the walkie-talkie back to him.

  “Keep it. I brought others. That one will keep us in contact with Wyatt. And this one will keep us in touch with you guys,” Jack says to Logan and Bill.

  “Now, who are you ignoring, Jane? Think,” Jack pleads with me.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. No one. Let’s focus on the plan, all right?”

  “All right. Which professor are we borrowing the 4x4 from?”

  “Professor Carter. Benjamin Carter,” I say.

  “I’ve heard that name before. The professor who’s making inroads into finding the cure for cancer? That Professor Carter?” Jack asks.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I guess you saw that article in the paper too?”

  “Totally. According to the article, he’s one of the brilliant minds of our time.”

  “I guess so.”

  “I take it you feel otherwise?”

  “Sorta, yes.”

  “I understand. I have some professors who rub me the wrong way too. Nevertheless, there’s something really not right about what’s happening here. We should try to find him if we can. See if he knows what’s going on. Maybe he can help, ya know?”

  “Maybe we should just focus on taking the 4x4 and getting the hell out of here,” I say.

  “Why would you say that? We should take every opportunity to learn as much as we can. Depending upon how things go, this might be our last chance to talk with him and find answers, if he’s even still alive.”

  “He just makes me feel uncomfortable. I feel like he stares at me in class. It’s just... awkward.”

  “You sure you’re not just misinterpreting things?”

  “I don’t think so. Uh. Like I said, can we just focus on the 4x4?”

  “Sure. Our goal will be to snag his 4x4, but...”

  “But what?”

  “If we happen to run into him, we should at least question him and see if he can tell us what’s going on here; maybe we can get to the bottom of it and fix whatever’s gone wrong.” Jack glances at me with his confident smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back, OK?”

  “OK.”

  Taking a moment to observe from our high perch, we can’t see many of those things running around, at least not yet. I guess they all barged their way into the radio station. Is everyone else already off campus, are they hiding out inside, or is our view just obscured from the constant snowfall?

  Jack announces that it’s time to move.

  Still on the roof, we each go to a different side of the building to scope out what’s going on and which side would be best to climb down. I look at the back side of the radio station, and everything is quiet since they broke through the back door.

  The coast is clear on all sides, so we decide to traverse the north side of the building closest to our destination. Jack makes a knot with the rope and hooks it around the rooftop hatch hinge.

  Jack goes first to make sure the rope is holding. As he scoots down the line, the roof hatch makes a squeak here and there, but it remains strong and sturdy. I’m up next. With my backpack in tow, I face Bill and Logan as I get my bearings on the rope.

  “Um. I’ve never climbed a rope before,” I say.

  “Good thing you’re not climbing one now,” Bill replies.

  I smile and begin my descent to the ground. It’s so cold out. I can feel the snow and wind whipping against my face. It’s also difficult to hold on to the rope wearing my mittens. My hands are sliding, which helps me get down the rope faster. The friction of the rope against my mittens is hot and actually is pretty nice considering the fact that I’m so cold.

  “Good job,” Jack says as I hit the ground.

  I smile.

  Bill and Logan follow.

  “OK. We’re off to the police station. Stay sharp, OK? We have no idea what’s going on here and no idea what’s waiting for us when we get there.”

  With that said, we start our slow hike to the station. Walking in the snow is fine until the cold begins to set in. The wind is especially brutal. Add in the fact that we’re going uphill, I’m getting tired fast.

  We barely arrive at the police station before a booming loudspeaker greets us.

  “Who’s there? Push the button on the panel to talk.”

  The four of us step forward, trying to take shelter from the blustering winds. Jack pushes the button as instructed.

  “Sh. Hello?” Jack replies, hoping none of those things heard the loudspeaker.

  “Speak up! Who’s there?”

  “My name is Jack, and we need your help. Can you come out and talk with us? Please stop using your loudspeaker. It only attracts them. Do you know what’s going on here?”

  There’s no response. Silence. The only thing I can hear is the wind blowing in my almost frozen ears. Something isn’t right. These aren’t cops.

  The police station door opens. Not knowing what is happening, we start to walk forward.

  He’s dressed in black and wearing a mask. He gives us each a look up and down. As soon as he sees me, he takes off his mask. And to my disbelief, there he is, Mr. Local Hockey Legend himself, Lance. Give me a wintry squall, a state of emergency, an outbreak on campus... somehow, the rest of it just doesn’t quite seem as bad as standing in front of this piece of work right at this moment.

  “Oh! Look who it is, Jane! Love what you did with your hair! So how's the little girl who didn’t want to go out with me doing? Bet you're regretting that decision right about now.”

  “Hi Lance. I never said—”

  “Listen guys,” he says. “We have lots of food, water, ammo, safety, and anything else you might want inside. Basically we have everything we need to wait out whatever is happening. And we’re happy to share, but we’re gonna need something from you.”

  “Um. OK. I’m not sure we have anything you don’t already have, but I’m listening,” Jack says.

  “We want Jane.”

  “What do you mean you want her? She’s not my property to give. She’s a human being.”

  “That was before. This is now. We rule this place. So we get what we want, and you get what you want. Everybody wins.”

  “Not everybody,” I point out.

  Looking directly at me, he repeats his earlier ultimatum: “Put out or get out.”

  “You’re a douchebag, Lance.”

  “Final answer? OK, then. Good luck out there.” Lance points a gun at our group, gesturing for us to head back the way we came. We follow his orders, turning back only once he continues, “Oh, and Jane, when the zombies get you, and they will get you, just remember you could've given a real man half an hour to show you a good time rather than turning yourself and your little friends here into a bunch of meat snacks.”

  Jack is ready to lunge at Lance for disrespecting me, his masculinity, and his friends, but Bill and Logan grab him by the shoulders, knowing it’s a bad idea.

  “Something you want to say to me, pretty boy?” Lance waves his gun at Jack menacingly. Jack bites his tongue. “Didn't think so.” Lance leers. “So how about you kids just keep on walking before we mow you down and take whatever supplies you have as our own?”

  We turn and consider our next step. Lance slams the police station door shut. No wonder that squad car never arrived.

  “Wow! Didn’t expect that from him,” Logan says.

  Just then my walkie-talkie clicks.

  “Jane? Hello?” It’s Wyatt.

  “Hey, Wyatt. What’s up?”

  “We’ve been getting reports from people all over campus that zombies are
running rampant, so be careful, OK?”

  “Thanks for the heads up, Wyatt. We’ll keep our eyes open. You OK?”

  “So far so good.”

  We are on our own. We have to press on.

  3:30 p.m.

  “So the police station didn’t work out,” Jack says.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “Don’t be. He’s the asshole,” Jack says.

  “Where should we go now?” I ask.

  “Let’s try the infirmary like we said we’d do earlier. Maybe we can find help there.”

  Backtracking a bit, we turn around to head toward the hospital. While it isn’t far away, maybe a block or two, the snow is getting heavier, making it more difficult to get anywhere. Without the plows clearing the way, the streets and walkways are nearly impassable. Snow is up to the middle of my thighs.

  We finally make it to the emergency room entrance. The stale smell of blood and death permeate the air. No one is there. It’s a ghost town.

  “Where is everyone?” I ask.

  “I don’t know, but look for anything we might need. Water, bandages, alcohol, anything sharp we can use as weapons. Take whatever you can find,” Jack says. “And make sure to grab some painkillers. They may come in handy.”

  We all nod and start searching.

  In the haste of opening drawers and looking for supplies, I knock over a tray of medical equipment. It makes a loud crashing sound as the metal hits the ground. We all stop moving and just listen.

  “Damn, that’s loud,” Logan says.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “Sh. Wait. Do you hear something?” Bill asks.

  Chapter 8

  ________________________________________

  4:00 p.m.

  We all stare at the door. Waiting. Hoping nothing would happen. But just as my adrenaline is coming down to a normal level, a swarm of infected people busts through the main infirmary door and charges toward us.

  “Where’d they come from?” Logan shouts.

  “Go to the main hospital door! We’ve gotta get outta here! Run!” Jack yells.

  Frozen to the floor, I can’t believe what is happening. How do these things just come out of the woodwork?

  Jack runs over to me, grabs me by the collar, and pulls me toward the door.

  “Run!” he shouts in my ear.

  As if awakened from a nightmare, I move quickly and follow the rest of the group out of the infirmary and into the main campus hospital section of the building. As soon as we are all inside, Logan slams the door shut behind us and locks it before they are able to push their way in.

  I can see our attackers clearly for the very first time as they smash their grotesque faces against the thick door window. They look angry and deformed. Parts of their faces are sunken in. What are these things? Are these zombies like Wyatt said? What happened to turn them into these primitive and savage creatures?

  “Jane, what are you doing over there?” Jack asks.

  “Staring. Look at them.” I turn to the guys and point to the door. “They’re worse than monsters.”

  “Let’s talk.” Jack says.

  “OK,” Bill replies.

  “We have to move quickly. I have a feeling it won’t be long until they bring their friends and surround us,” Jack says. “Does everyone remember the plan?”

  I am still staring at the door, scared and mesmerized at the same time.

  “Jane.”

  I don’t respond.

  “Jane!”

  I finally hear my name. “Yes. Sorry. I hear you. We’re gonna go north. Hedge our bets on transportation outta here by going for my professor’s 4x4. Maybe see if he knows anything, if we can track him down.”

  In the same breath I change the topic. I stare back at the grotesque faces at the door and say, “Those things out there are fucking frightening, aren’t they? Now that we have medical supplies, I wonder if we should go back and help the others?”

  “I don’t think we can go back now. It’s just not possible with those things roaming around. We have to keep moving forward and find help. It’s the best thing we can do for all of us,” Logan says.

  “Jane and I will head north and see if we can find the 4x4. If we fail, we’ll be counting on you two to get us transportation out of here, snowplow style,” Jack says.

  “Got it,” Bill says.

  “They should be in the maintenance sheds and in working order ‘cause it’s snowing like crazy,” Logan says.

  “Go there, find keys, and lock yourselves inside one of them. Don’t come out for anyone or anything. They have a self-contained compartment made of metal, right?” Jack asks.

  “Yeah. Metal,” Logan replies, not too confidently.

  “OK, so you should be safe in one,” Jack says.

  “How do you figure that? Those things broke through two heavy metal desks blocking the back door. Why do you think we’ll be safe in a metal box?” Logan asks.

  My heart stops for a moment. The banging at the door gets louder. Worried, we all look over to make sure the door is holding.

  “Well, for one thing you’ll be much higher off the ground. Second, you’ll be constantly moving. The combo should give you an advantage,” Jack says.

  “What about you and Jane?” Bill asks.

  “What about us?” I ask.

  “You’ll be in a little 4x4 truck.”

  “Nah. You’ll have gotten to us in enough time,” Jack answers confidently. “We won’t be that far away from each other, so keep in touch using the walkie-talkies. OK? But don’t be loud about it. The trick is to be quiet, as quiet as you can be. Those things are attracted to loud sounds, so we don’t want to make any.”

  Jack holds up his walkie-talkie, “And don’t forget to use them. Stay in touch. Wyatt will signal us if he gets any calls at the station with information we can use or from people needing our help. That is, if he’s still alive.”

  Unhappy, I look at Jack.

  “Sorry,” he says, realizing that was uncalled for, though quite possible.

  I click the button on my walkie-talkie.

  “Wyatt, you OK over there?”

  “Yeah, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say things were hairy. The doors to Studio One seem to be holding and the Plexiglas is taking a beating, but so far so good.”

  “Good to hear,” I say, excited to hear his voice. “We ran into some roadblocks, but we’re back on track now.”

  “I figured that would happen. Stay safe and come back and get me when you can, OK?”

  “You got it.”

  Momentarily relieved, I click off.

  “OK, is everyone OK with the plan?” Jack asks. “We’re just trying to get some answers, make our way off campus, and see if we can find some help. At the very least, find someone who knows what's going on. It’s simple. We can totally do this.

  “Bundle up. It’s cold out there, and it’s only gonna get colder. We’re in the dead of winter up here. I know we’re all scared and probably a little tired at this point, but we’re gonna have to keep it together for a little while longer. Take a minute to make sure you’re all taped up.”

  We all grab our rolls of duct tape and rewrap our arms and legs. A second layer can’t hurt, right?

  “Let’s get going. We’ll see you soon,” Jack says as he shakes hands with Bill and Logan. I hug them both goodbye.

  Jack and I start the uphill journey to North Campus. As we start walking, I turn around for a moment and see Logan and Bill head off downhill to West Campus in hopes of finding a working snowplow. They disappear into the background of white snow.

  I’m not religious, but I close my eyes for one brief second to pray that we all make it out of this mess alive.

  Chapter 9

  ________________________________________

  5:00 p.m.

  I didn’t realize just how difficult it would be to walk uphill in thigh-high snow with the wind whipping against my face. I thought it would be a pain, but this is
almost insurmountable.

  The snowflakes are the biggest I’ve seen. You know the ones. When they hit you, you immediately feel so wet and cold, especially if they happen to land on your head, and the freezing cold water drips down your back, giving you a shocking chill.

  Under this never-ending assault by Mother Nature, I’m getting tired, and my legs aren’t listening to my brain anymore. I have to stop. My stomach grumbles. The sun is going down, and I haven’t eaten since last night.

  “Why did I come to this school?” I ask.

  “Because it’s a good one?”

  “It doesn’t seem so good now. You know I could have gone to school in Florida? Florida! And on a complete scholarship, no less, but no, I turned it down, and now look at me. Us. Freezing to death. Being chased by insane zombies that want to eat me. Us. Whatever.”

  “It could be worse.”

  “Worse. How could this possibly be worse?”

  “Well for one thing, we could be one of those things instead of just running from them.”

  “Ha. I guess that’s a good point.” I smile.

  My stomach grumbles. It’s so loud Jack hears it.

  “Hungry?” he asks.

  “I know it’s gonna sound weird to mention this when we’re worried about being eaten by zombies, but I’m starving.”

  “It’s not weird at all. I’m actually hungry too. When is the last time you ate something, anyway?”

  “Last night. I dunno. Around eight or nine or so,” I say as I go fishing in my backpack and grab two granola bars. I hand one to Jack and proceed to munch on the other. I hope it will quiet my stomach. The last thing we need is a zombie finding us because my stomach is making too much noise.

  “Stay positive, Jane. We need to keep going. We can’t go back, and we won’t be able to make it if one of us gives up. I need you. Ready to pick up the pace?”

  “Uh huh. I am. Let’s go.”

  5:30 p.m.

  After 30 minutes of trudging through the heavy, wet snow, we finally make it to the Arts and Sciences Quad. We quickly scurry into one of the old buildings— McKinley Hall, I think—on the near side of the quad. Since I’m new on campus and the snow is falling so much that all the buildings are completely covered, I can’t be sure which building is named what.