Zombieclypse (Book 1): Dead Quarantine

by A. Rosaria

  Sarah looked at them, grateful. They stood up to him for her.

  “It's true,” Jake said. “Well, it's partially. I told them that after you stayed away for an hour that I assumed you were taken. And when you returned, after hours of being gone, I was sure there was no possible way you could not have been bitten. Why stay away so long? Where have you been?”

  “You closed the window.”

  “I did not. Don't make shit up.” He cut his eyes away from her; she knew he was lying. He had left her to die. They didn't even know if it was the bite that turned people into zombies. Most likely, the flu did. Point was, he just assumed they had gotten to her and never went to look for her to make sure. He had just given up on her rather quickly.

  “You're so full of shit. I really don't know what good I ever saw in you. I must have been deranged.”

  He grabbed his balls. “This is what you could not get enough off, and once this shit is over, you will come running back to me for more. So, bitch, shut up.”

  He was wrong. She would never return to him, and things in this world would not return to how they once were. She had seen that on the roof.

  “I'm done with you.”

  She looked at the others. She knew now that she could depend on them and that with a little effort they could escape. They had to go about it the same way she made it back, using their speed and agility to their advantage.

  “Lilly? Are you all right?” She nodded. “We need to leave this place. Better now than later, when hunger and thirst weaken us.”

  “How do we get out?” Les asked.

  “We run past them.”

  Jake sat down at a nearby desk, putting his boots on the desk as he said, “They will get you all and have you for lunch.”

  “You are free to stay,” she snapped.

  “They are slow and not the most agile, as long you stay out of reach and don't get cornered or surrounded you are safe.”

  “So when will we move?” Jack said.

  “In about fifteen minutes.”

  They waited, making peace with what might come, and she needed a breather. She might have sounded confident, but she knew it was dangerous. It had not been easy for her to wade through them; it had been more luck than skill, because half the time she wasn't even thinking. She grabbed her right hand and kept it from shaking. They couldn't see how scared she was. She sat down in the front of the class and stared at the whiteboard. Resting. Waiting. Afraid.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ralph sat next to John in the passenger's seat. Mary was in the back. They stood stationary about two hundred yards from the gate. Behind them, a crowd slowly approached. In front of the school, a smaller crowd lingered near the gates.

  “You have a gun; you'll manage,” John said.

  John's hand gripping the steering wheel slipped from the sweat under his palms. Every time he glanced back, his eyes widened a little. On their trip to St. Mark's High School, they realized that Ralph had not been joking about the dead walking. John had stopped the car at a red light despite Ralph's protests that it would not be safe. A bum shambled to the driver’s side, slammed his face against the glass, and kept slamming it while snapping his rotten teeth together. Its dead eyes were set on infinity. It tried again and again to bite through the glass. Both John’s and Mary’s eyes were glued to it in horror, while Ralph yelled for John to speed away. John finally snapped out of it at the first crack in the glass. He had pushed the gas pedal to the bottom, and the car squealed as they drove away, dragging the zombie with it a few feet. After that, John had no qualms about running red lights. He raced past them all.

  “It's two hundred yards away, can't you get closer?”

  John glanced back. “No, I can't. Just get the fuck out.”

  Ralph contemplated pulling his gun on John and making him drive the short distance. There was no way the crowd behind them would be at the intersection to block their way back. They would have enough time to make it out.

  He opened the door. Before getting out, he turned to Mary. “You take care.”

  He slammed the door shut and trotted to the school gates. Skidding tires behind him told him John drove of in a hurry. He was pissed at John for not going the extra mile, but at least he got him to the high school. He couldn't really blame the guy. The horrible flu pandemic had turned out to be a nightmare that challenged sanity itself.

  Ralph hid behind a dumpster. The crowd behind him went after the sound of the engine instead of him. He doubted they could actually see, and if they could see through those dead eyes, it would not be very well. The zombies turned at the intersection, following the car. The engine’s sound was now nothing more than a puff in the wind.

  That left him the zombies near the gate to deal with. He couldn't shoot them. Who knew what the sound would attract, probably the big crowd he had just evaded. They would turn back at the first shot. No, he had to find another way out and only use the gun if absolutely necessary. First, he wanted to have a better look. Crouched, he crossed the street. Lithely he ran, keeping cover behind the parked cars, meanwhile watching out so as not to bump into any zombies. Luckily the zombies were all concentrated at the gates.

  He maneuvered so he could see straight through the gates. Ten lingered in the front, less in the yard. Corpses were strewn all over the yard. It was in stark contrast to the cleanness and wholesomeness the building exuded the day before. Then, the only sign of what was to come had been the coughs, the sneezes, and the two yellow buses parked in front of the building.

  This would turn out to be a tough one. He had no idea what was inside the school. If only the healthy teens and teachers had been kept inside, quarantined from the outside world, then it would mean they were still alive and well and safe. Tom would be all right. Wouldn't it then be wrong for him to disturb the peace and risk their lives trying to get in?

  The twin doors burst open. A wooly haired guy rushed outside, followed by a tall, thin guy, and in their wake came Lilly and a younger girl. They dodged the first pair of zombies and ran for the gate. The ten that lingering outside whirled around and advanced on them, blocking the way out. This will turn out bad. Ralph pulled his gun. He slid over the hood of the car and ran for the gate, which was now cleared of zombies. They were now honing in on the small group of teens.

  Two zombies grabbed the tall guy and dragged him down. By the time he hit the ground, two others were on him, clawing his belly open. His cries were cut short by a zombie ripping his throat out. The wooly one tried to get to his friend but was bitten on his calf by a zombie that had fallen down. The zombie grabbed for his legs, tripping him. Before he could get up, three zombies descended on him, digging their teeth into his neck and shoulder.

  Ralph pushed a zombie away that got too close. He kicked one closing in on Lilly. Lilly was in a tug-of-war with two zombies pulling the girl. A third one got to the girl's neck and tore a piece off, cutting the carotid artery. Blood spurted out. A fourth charged Lilly and bit her arm. She still would not let go. Ralph bashed a fifth. He aimed and shot the one biting Lilly. He grabbed Lilly and pulled.

  “She's dead. Let go of her.

  Lilly kept holding on, while more zombies were closing in. Ralph aimed and shot the screaming girl right between the eyes. Her lifeless body slumped down. Lilly, in shock, let go. Her face turned pale. Ralph dragged her inside, shooting at two zombies and missing both times. He rushed to the doors and slammed it closed. The zombies kept walking into the door, thrashing to get in, but luckily it held.

  Behind him, Lilly sobbed and snickered. He grabbed her by the hand, but she pulled back. Terrified, she looked at the gun in his hand. “You killed her.”

  Tears streamed down her cheeks and crested at her jaw, dripping to the tile floor. There was no time for this. Behind her, three more zombies shuffled toward them. One was missing an arm. He raised his gun. Lilly flinched and dropped, holding her head as she shrunk away from him. Ralph aimed carefully and squeezed the trigger, correcting for recoil b
etween shots. One after the other fell.

  More were incoming from beyond the main hall. He pushed the gun in his belt. He looked around for anything that might improve their survival chances. He pried a shotgun from a nearby fallen soldier's dead fingers. The zombies were almost at the entrance to the left wing of the building. He pulled up a struggling Lilly and dragged her to a door. Painted on the door at eye level was janitor. He pushed Lilly inside and followed her. He locked the door, making as little sound as possible, not wanting to attract the incoming zombies. Hopefully they would hobble off and keep the way clear for them to escape later.

  The room was filled with cleaning supplies and a rather large cleaning cart. They had just enough room to sit down next to each other. Lilly clamped a hand around her bite wound, blood trickling out from beneath her hand.

  “You are hurt.”

  Cleaning rags were hanging on hooks against the wall. He unhooked the cleanest one and tore it into stripes. He struggled with Lilly to get her hand off and bandage her. She whimpered when he applied the rags around her forearm. It was a sloppy job, but good enough to keep it from bleeding more.

  “I had no choice. I had to shoot her for you to let go.”

  “We could have saved her.”

  He sighed. He wished he could believe that. He might have tried if he did and that would've probably gotten them killed, but he would have been spared having to kill a kid. The tears were there, knocking to get out, to wash his soul clean. However, no amount of crying would be able to do that. He stopped his hands from shaking. He felt so cold.

  “She was as good as dead. You saw the blood.”

  Lilly kept silent. He pulled his gun out and pressed it into her hands. “Take it.”

  She stared at the gun in disgust, but she took it from him. They would have to move soon, and it was best she wasn't defenseless.

  “We can't stay here for long; I need to go look for Tom.”

  She shook her head. “Tommy, he—” His skin crawled at what she was about to say. “—he's dead.”

  He bit his tears back, adamant on keeping it together. He couldn't give in. He had to keep going.

  “George, the soldiers shot him dead. Scared to leave, we went to sleep. I woke up to screams and saw Tommy dead on the floor and George attacking Sarah.” She sobbed. “We escaped the room and locked George inside.” She broke off crying.

  Tommy was dead; he had no reason to stay here anymore. He would explain to her the plan to leave, hopefully get her in shape to use that gun, and then they would escape, blasting their way out. Lilly put a tiny hand on his. He looked up. She had a small smile on.

  “Ralph, you were a good friend to Tommy. I wish we could have known you better.”

  “We?”

  “Sarah and me. She has few friends and I only have her.”

  Sarah was surrounded by friends; she was popular. Well, most of her friends were probably dead now, but she was not shy of them. “She had her fair share of friends.”

  “Not really, just me.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Could you do me a favor and look out for her? She got cut off in our escape.”

  “I don't know. I think it's safer for us to run away together.”

  “Please, there is no point for me to run. I've been bitten. Get her out instead.”

  For her to still be alive must mean she was immune, the same as he was, or at least resistant. How could a bite kill and turn her then? Unless it was another kind of infection, but still, they couldn't possibly be sure about this.

  “This is not a movie. We don't—”

  “I don't want to become one of them.”

  Lilly pushed the gun against her temple and pulled the trigger. In front of Ralph, her head swung to the side and her body slumped. The hand holding the gun fell lifeless to her side. Her eyes were still open and she looked sadly back at him. The light faded, and her eyes lost any luster they had.

  His hands trembled, his throat felt dry, and his stomach turned a windmill. He couldn't believe it; just a second ago, they were talking. He planned to escape, take her with him. He still fought his tears. He couldn't give in, although his body and heart ached to do so.

  The sound of the blast left his ears ringing. All things dead would converge here and make his escape impossible. He had no time to grieve or think about rescue. He had to get to safety. He grabbed the shotgun, a Benelli M4 Super 90, and checked if a slug was chambered. Ralph pushed the door open, knocking down a zombie standing too close. He pressed on. The exit was blocked by five zombies and outside stood many more. No way could he get out from there. From the doorway to his right, zombies walked in. One she recognized, Mrs. Evergreen. She gave him the creeps in life and now in death she downright terrified him. He ran to the stairs. The only safe way was up. Lucky, the distance between him and the zombies was large enough, and they were slow.

  Ralph heard a noise from upstairs. He looked up and saw Jake running, followed by Sarah at his heels.

  “Get in the principal's office,” Jake yelled at Sarah.

  Without even giving Ralph a glance, Jake fled up the other side and dashed for the principal’s office. Sarah saw Ralph and slowed down. Her face lit up with a small smile. Behind her, two zombies turned the corner. Those behind him were also closing, their footfalls intensifying. The only way to go was to follow Jake. She stopped to stare at him, a question on her lips. Ralph grabbed her hand and ran up the stairs. Jake's face soured, seeing the both of them. He slid inside the office and closed the door. Ralph tried the knob. Locked.

  “No, he didn't,” Sarah exclaimed. She banged her fist on the door. “Open up.”

  Jake answered her with screams of agony and banging on the door followed by a loud thud and blood seeping from beneath the door.

  Ralph gawked at the two zombies tumbling from the stairs and a small crowd slowly climbing from beneath. “Sarah, we need to go.”

  He heard her mutter. “He's dead, really dead.” And then, she chuckled.

  He looked behind him. She stood at the door with a weird smile. What had happened here? Whatever it was, he would have to ask later. The way down was blocked. The two zombies that fell started climbing up now.

  “Come.” He pulled Sarah with him to the building's right wing. It had the same layout as the left wing, but this one was only partially used for classes. Mostly it contained administration offices and a small library.

  They ran and turned left in the hallway. Five zombies met them: two teachers, with their faces bitten off, one soldier, and two hazmat men. They blocked the way. Ralph stopped Sarah who was about to dash forward on a suicidal run.

  “Let me go!”

  He pushed her behind him, aimed the shotgun to the middlemost zombie, the soldier, and blasted a slug his way. It tore a fist-sized hole in his abdomen and threw him back a little, but left him standing. He had believed he would have flown back and toppled the other zombies. He might have to lay off the games from now on, as if he had a choice in the matter. No more new games would be made. He aimed at the head and shot, blasting it to pieces. The zombie fell back, hitting a faceless teacher and taking her down.

  Sarah shot forward and jumped through the hole he created. She screamed at him to follow her. He ran for it. On his way, he bashed a hazmat zombie away with the stock of his shotgun. He tripped, crawled away, and got back up. The zombies were too slow. By the time they reached for him, he was already gone, fleeing down the hallway, following Sarah. He had never seen her active before.

  He had not promised Lilly he would look out for Sarah, but by chance, he had ran into her, and survival needed him to stay with her. They would split ways after they got out. His high school crush for her had vanished after the last kiss he gave Lauryn. It was weird thinking about her while fleeing from dead people.

  Sarah pushed open the window and climbed out. He followed her and saw her race up the ladder. He closed the window behind him, not taking any chances with the possibility that
the zombies could climb out of windows and up ladders. He followed Sarah up to the roof. She stood waiting for him.

  He scanned the roof for any zombies that might have found their way up. Unlikely, but one could never be sure. It seemed safe. He looked back down. The backyard looked like a busy zombie market day. No way out from there.

  “Ralph, I'm glad you're alive.”

  She fidgeted with her fingers. “I heard you went on one of those buses, that you had the flu. Shouldn't you be in quarantine?”

  “I lied about the flu. The quarantine...more like a massacre.”

  She looked at him, confused, one eyebrow slightly raised.

  “There was no quarantine. They bused us by the thousands to a big pit to burn us to a crisp, alive or dead it did not matter to them.”

  The color bled from her face.

  “I got away, me and Lauryn, but she was ill. She asked me to leave her.” He couldn't look at her. Now more than ever, he felt the shame of leaving Lauryn alone to save himself. “I came back for Tommy.”

  “Tommy is—”

  “Dead, I know. Lilly told me.”

  “Lilly? Why is she not with you?” He looked back at her. Her eyes trembled, moisture building behind them. She balled her hands to fist. “She...she...is dead?”

  He nodded. “She was bitten and she shot herself.”

  Sarah dropped to the ground, staring ahead. “The others?”

  “Dead. Zombies got them, only...”

  Her eyes snapped at him. “Only, what?”

  It gnawed at him. The only other one that knew what had happened with the girl was dead. Whatever story he told would be believed. He didn't want to be seen as a killer, although he killed her, and had to live with it the rest of his life no matter how short it would be.

  “A girl was with Lilly. The zombies got her and Lilly wouldn't let go. I shot her and dragged Lilly inside.”