Alive?

by Melissa Woods

  “I think that went well,” Joe began, as if reading her mind.

  Sam and Matt agreed, but Tom looked incredulous. “How the hell did you come to that conclusion?”

  Joe’s tone was casual. “We got the stuff we needed, and you know what? We made some memories.”

  “I almost died!”

  Joe smiled. “And I’ll cherish that one the most.”

  Violet tried not to laugh, keeping her eyes fixed out of the window. Joe was right; things were okay now. They could go back to the school, eat, and wash. She could try not to kill anyone, and it would all be super.

  Violet’s positive attitude lasted around ten minutes. Right up until they arrived back to find the school gates wide open, swinging back and forth in the breeze.

  Amy watched the others disappear out of the gates with a sense of impending doom. She didn’t have a good feeling about this. Something bad was about to happen.

  She shook the thoughts away. She was being ridiculous; they would be fine. Sam was more than capable of taking care of the others. But for some reason, she couldn’t convince herself. Violet had already been bitten; she was just lucky enough to be immune. Amy was relatively sure the others wouldn’t be as fortunate. And what if they got overrun? Violet’s immunity would mean nothing if she got ripped to shreds.

  Amy wasn’t great at being positive.

  The morning air was crisp, and she hurriedly wrapped the chain around the gates. A sound caught her ear—was that crying? Amy froze. For a moment, the noise didn’t compute. It seemed so unnatural in this world. Then she saw the kitten. It stood on the other side of the street, meowing right at her.

  Amy smiled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a cat. She knelt. “Come here,” she called. Her voice was louder than she intended it to be, too loud for this quiet road, but she wasn’t thinking about that. The kitten meowed again, slowly padding toward her. Then it stopped, raising its haunches. It hissed and ran away. Amy got to her feet, listening desperately. She couldn’t hear those things, but that didn’t mean they weren’t around. She kicked herself for being so loud, for not being careful. Hurriedly, her eyes still on the road, she snapped the padlock on and walked back to the school.

  What she didn’t see was that she hadn’t secured the chain correctly. It snaked its way off the bars seconds after she went inside, landing neatly on the ground. Moments later, the gates opened.

  Sam parked the car and locked the gates behind them. Slowly and silently, Violet and the others entered the school. She told herself she was worrying over nothing; Amy was probably just careless locking up. It wouldn’t be out of the question; her friend was notoriously unreliable. She told herself when they got upstairs, they’d find the others and everyone would be fine. But she didn’t believe it.

  Carrying only their weapons, they made their way down the hallway toward the stairs to the teachers’ lounge, leaving the food and supplies in the car. Violet didn’t imagine she’d be much good fighting off the dead with a baseball bat in one hand and a bag of magazines in the other. She had no idea what to expect as they continued through the silent building. Would they turn a corner and find hundreds of biters? Would her friends be in pieces? Or would there be nothing at all?

  “We need to split up,” Sam whispered. Joe’s expression suggested that once again, he knew this was a terrible idea, but it wasn’t like they had any other choice. “Tom, Matt, and I will check the library. That’s where Maggie and Emily were going. Violet and Joe, check the teachers’ lounge.”

  Violet didn’t mind being part of a smaller group; she knew Tom would be less than useless if they ran into the dead. In fact, based on his behavior today, she had no doubt he’d be the first to push her into a horde to save himself.

  I must remember to have a little chat with him about that.

  They split up, and Joe and Violet crept up the stairs toward the door.

  “I can’t take this silence,” Joe whispered, but Violet shushed him. The door to the teachers’ lounge was wide open, and the two of them crouched at the stop of the stairs, neither wanting to step inside.

  Violet eyed Joe, knowing he was thinking the same thing. There was a good chance they were going to go in there and find something horrible. Was she ready for that? As she tried to force herself to get moving, Ben passed the pair of them, heading through the door as though nothing was out of the ordinary. There was no sound—no whimper or bark. Violet caught Joe’s eye, and he shrugged. It seemed like they were good to go.

  They got to their feet and entered the room.

  Everything is fine!

  The window was open, and several of Amy’s drawings sat on the table. It looked like she’d spent the day sketching. There was no one in the room, but no biters either. Violet supposed Maggie and Emily were in the library, and Amy was maybe using the bathroom, or even painting in the art block. She turned back to Joe, smiling.

  Joe wasn’t looking at her. His horrified gaze was locked on a body by the couch. It was female. Her insides were on the outside, spread all around her. There was blood. So much blood that Violet couldn’t even tell what color her hair was. She felt no temptation whatsoever; the red liquid smelled of nothing but death. Ben sniffed at the body, pushing gently against it with his snout. She was face down, but Violet knew who it was. She couldn’t believe it, though. She wouldn’t. Stumbling across the room, she knelt beside the body, turning it over heavily. The face was different. Her eyes were wide open and terrified. Her cheeks were scratched and bleeding. Once-beautiful lips had been ripped open, and blood was smeared on her mouth like crude lipstick. Violet brought the body close, ignoring the cool blood on her knees. She buried her face into the hair of the dead girl, sticky and matted from where her head had cracked against the floor. She’d seen death, but not like this. Not her.

  She heard the others arrive at the door. They were talking about not finding anything. Then silence. She felt hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to stand up, but she couldn’t let go.

  Eventually, she was pulled from the body and led to the couch. The shaking in her legs wouldn’t stop. Blood dripped from her hands and knees.

  That’s her blood.

  Matt knelt in front of Violet, talking, but the words made no sense. It was like being underwater. He put one warm hand on her face, then the other. He pulled her head close so their foreheads were pressed together. She put her hands on his, smearing blood all over his skin. He didn’t push her away.

  There was a noise. It came from the coat closet. Matt got to his feet, holding his weapon and stepping in front of Violet protectively. She saw Sam walk to the door. He glanced at the others, and then flung it open.

  The three left behind had been in the teachers’ lounge for several hours, killing the time in a variety of ways. Amy had been alternating between drawing and reading. She was supposed to be by the window, but she was at the table. She couldn’t bear to just sit and watch the road. If she had, she might’ve known what was about to happen. She might have been able to warn the others that one of them was going to die.

  Maggie had been reading a book about gardening, checking the clock every five minutes and wondering if it was possible for time to be running backward.

  Emily had been painting her nails, using one of the jars found in the box of ‘banned items’ the teachers had collected. There was a surprisingly large selection. As well as nail polish, there had been cigarettes, some dirty magazines, earrings that went over the penny size limit, and rather alarmingly, several knives. Emily knew about the box, having taught at George Avenue for the last year. She’d collected some of the items herself.

  Around the time Violet and the others found the puddle of blood, Maggie heard a noise. It wasn’t much, something she only noticed having become so accustomed to silence. She glanced at the other two; they’d heard it as well, and stared at each other anxiously. Amy got to her feet first, and moved to the door. The others watched as she disappeared, heading down the stairs. />
  There was no sound for several moments, but just as Maggie started to wonder whether she’d imagined the noise, there was a scream. It echoed off the walls, so loud she could swear the screamer was right beside them. Emily jumped up, but Maggie was frozen where she was.

  “Stay there,” Emily ordered, though Maggie knew she was incapable of doing anything else. She ran for the door and leaned over the railing. What she saw would forever be stained onto her eyes. She hurried back to the room and grabbed Maggie by the hand, remembering the bolt on the door, the one Sam had installed the day after they arrived, too late. The creature was close. She could hear it coming up, coming for them.

  Emily pulled Maggie toward the closet, swung the doors open, and pushed her inside. Seconds later, she was in, too, closing the doors behind them. For what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened, and there was no sound but their breathing. Then there were steps again, heavy breaths, and a bloodied figure stumbled into the room. Something about the way it was breathing made Emily open the door just a crack. It was Amy. She was bloody and limping, but alive. Emily opened the door a little wider, unable to get up because Maggie was practically on top of her.

  “Amy,” she hissed.

  Relief flooded Amy’s face. She stumbled over just as a second figure appeared at the door. It was a man. He was tall, muscular, and dead. Amy heard him coming, turning to face him the moment he reached her. Emily wanted to cover her eyes, but she couldn’t. She knew she had to witness it, even if she didn’t understand why. She could hear Maggie sobbing, could see her friend—for they had become friends over the past few weeks, despite the decade between them—cover her own mouth to silence herself in the darkness.

  Emily watched as the creature wrestled with Amy. She had no chance. Amy was weak from the first attack, and Emily could see the bites on her neck and arms. She wanted to help, but she was frozen with fear. Her whole body felt like lead.

  It was brutal. The way it tore at her body with teeth and fingers was more than just animalistic; it was vicious, cruel, hateful.

  Within seconds, Amy was on the floor on her stomach, the monster ripping at her back. She reached out her arm toward the closet, reaching for help. Emily felt something overcome her, and moved to open the door further. She knew she had to do something; even if it was killing the monster and putting Amy out of her misery.

  A sound escaped Amy’s torn lips. She moved her hand as much as she could. It looked like a wave.

  “She’s telling you to close the door,” Maggie breathed.

  Amy gestured again.

  Emily realized she was telling them not to come out. She was telling them to stay hidden and save themselves.

  Emily nodded slowly, blowing a kiss to Amy and pulling the door closed.

  Maggie and Emily were in the closet. They both had their hands over their ears and tears on their cheeks. As the doors opened, they opened their eyes. Relief flushed their faces, and Sam and Matt helped them out. Maggie flung her arms around Matt’s neck, Emily doing the same with Sam. But her eyes never left Amy’s body. Finally, she stepped away from Sam, heading toward Violet, who got to her feet. Emily pulled her close.

  “I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I couldn’t save her.”

  Violet just nodded, unable to speak.

  “We need to go back out,” Sam said listlessly. “Whatever did this to Amy is probably still in the school somewhere.”

  “You don’t know that,” Violet muttered, her voice thick. “The gates were open; it might’ve gone.”

  “We need to be sure. We’ll find it quicker if we get into groups.”

  Violet sighed. She was so sick of being split up and ordered around, but too tired to argue. She did as she was told.

  Violet was with Joe again, checking the main block. Sam and Tom were starting from the other side, with the aim to meet in the middle. Matt and Emily were doing a sweep of the playground and other buildings, but Violet knew it wouldn’t be there. It wouldn’t have gone far. Maggie was in the staffroom with Ben. She hadn’t stopped shaking since coming out of the closet, and Sam thought it’d be safer to leave her behind.

  Violet felt as though she’d been cut in half. One side was distraught, feeling as though a part of her had been ripped out. The other side was numb. She knew she had to focus on one thing—killing the foul creature that had torn up her best friend. She could grieve after it was done.

  “Amy and I dated once.”

  Violet paused, halfway through opening one of the classroom doors. She turned to Joe questioningly. Was this a joke? Amy was her best friend. Violet knew everything about her. Amy had never, not once, mentioned dating Joe.

  “No, you didn’t,” she replied after a moment, checking the classroom. Empty.

  “We did. I swear on my life. It wasn’t for long. A month maybe?”

  “No. She would’ve told me.” Violet stopped walking and studied Joe’s face. There was no sign he was lying, and he had no reason to. But it didn’t add up.

  “She didn’t tell anyone,” he continued. “Last summer, I went down to the beach with my family to visit my grandma. Amy was there, too, visiting hers. How weird is that? We met at some hideous ‘disco’ that our families dragged us to. I’m sure she wouldn’t have usually given me a second glance, but seeing as I was the only guy there who was under fifty, we started talking. I made her fall in love with me through my amazing sense of humor and rugged handsomeness.”

  Violet’s face was stone, and Joe smiled. “Okay, that bit wasn’t true, but the rest of it was.”

  Violet supposed it was possible. She knew Amy went out to the beach every summer for a month or so. But why had she kept it a secret?

  Joe continued. “I guess for her, I was probably just a way of getting out of the house and away from the endless games of Monopoly she had to endure. But for me…I don’t know. It was something else. Don’t get me wrong—Amy could be rude, flaky, and completely unreasonable at times, but she was funny. You know, in that mean, sarcastic way. And she cared about stuff. She was a good person.”

  Violet blinked back the tears that threatened. Joe had described Amy perfectly. She could come across as hard, even cold at times, but she had a good heart. She went out of her way to look after her friends, or even people who just seemed like they needed it. On the first day of high school, Violet knew no one, having only recently moved to town. Amy had invited the new girl to join her table, despite her other friends telling her not to. Amy didn’t care that Violet had no clue about what to say to boys or about fashion. She pretended to be interested in the video games Violet played, or the weird cult movies she obsessed over. They were like sisters.

  “So what happened?” Violet asked. “Between you two?”

  Joe shrugged. “What do you think? Summer was almost over, and we were both going home. She didn’t think we’d work out because we were too different. We both knew it was because she liked James Hobson, and I didn’t even compare to him. I think she was a little embarrassed by me; I was making jokes all the time, whereas she was always cool about everything. We probably wouldn’t have worked out.”

  Violet wasn’t sure what to say. It did sound like a typical Amy break-up—none of her relationships lasted more than a month. She got bored relatively quickly—but the fact she had never told Violet about it might have meant something.

  “I think she really liked you,” Violet said.

  Joe raised an eyebrow, smiling. “She didn’t even tell you about it. That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.”

  “No, but she told me everything. Every bad date, every weirdo she met, every single time a guy had embarrassed her and she’d had to dump him. That fact she didn’t ever tell me about this… She must’ve felt bad about how she acted. It must’ve meant more to her than she realized.”

  Joe considered this, and Violet continued, “Besides, James asked her out and she said no.”

  Violet continued down the hallway. Joe walked quietly beside her, but now there
was a small smile playing on his lips.

  Each classroom was the same: look inside, see nothing, move on. Look inside, see nothing, move on.

  Then it was different. The next one wasn’t empty. There was a man inside, standing with his back to them and staring out the window. His hands were bloody, as were his clothes. His hair was brown, matted with dirt, and what could easily have been more blood.

  Amy’s blood.

  Violet stepped forward, practically shaking with anger, but Joe put his arm across her stomach to prevent her from going any further. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to keep her back—he thought he should be the one to do it. She pushed him away.

  It has to be me.

  Violet silently made her way past the desks. She stood behind the creature, keeping her breathing slow. She was closer now than most people would ever get to one of the dead without being bitten or killed. She could smell the blood and decay—that familiar mixture of damp leaves and rotting meat. She could hear it breathing in raspy carnivorous breaths.

  Why do they still breathe?

  She raised the baseball bat high above her head. She was only just tall enough to reach. With one swift movement, she forced it down. The zombie’s skull cracked, and he crumbled to the floor. He bled, though not as much as a living person. Violet watched, then brought the bat down again. And again. And again.

  Blood spattered onto her clothes and face. She heard Joe moving over, saying her name, but she didn’t stop. This was for Amy.

  Joe grabbed her, pulling her close and forcing her to drop the bat. She clung to him, hot tears streaking down her dirty cheeks. She wiped them with the back of her hand.

  Blood. She was crying blood. Violet’s eyes widened. She pushed Joe away, running from the classroom before he could see the fresh blood on her face.

  “Done. Now I’ll just wrap this up… Don’t want it to get infected.”