The alarm clock goes off at 6:20 sharp, and Rachel Berry does not indulge in the snooze button. The small act will save her life, though she does not realize it yet.

Turning on the shower, she watches the steam billow as she slips out of her nightgown, shivering at a brush of cool air, she hurries into the shower without bothering to close the window. Ideas are already running through her head. As the hot water rolls over her, she toys with song choices for tonight's Myspace video. It is the most prominent thing on her mind.

So prominent, in fact, that she doesn't even notice the strange noises coming from the other side of the bathroom door until she has fully toweled off. Strange. Her dads are away for the week, on some couples cruise in the Bahamas. There should be no unexplainable noises coming from an empty room in an empty house.

Stomach clenched, she grabs at her nightgown and pulls it over her head in a hurry. Tentatively, cautiously, she opens the bathroom door.

"Mrs. Woodward?"

Her elderly neighbour is standing on the other side of the room, her back to Rachel as she makes a weird choking noise. Rachel takes a step out of the bathroom, still cautious. Is the woman sick? This is one of the neighbours filing a lawsuit, though. If she was sick, she wouldn't come here. She had already stated loudly in front of her dads how all homosexuals were going to hell.

At the sound of Rachel's voice, she turns, and Rachel stumbles backwards as she lets out a disgusted cry. The woman's face is covered in blood, and in her clenched hands is a tattered white and red mess that almost resembled Mrs. Woodward's yappy little dog. The woman's eyes are wide and bloodshot, and when they fall on Rachel, she jumps forward with a snarl and more agility than a woman of her age should possess.

As quick as she can, Rachel slams the bathroom door tight, and leans against it, breathing heavily. Something is terribly wrong here. As is obvious by the scratching of nails she can feel through the door. Twisting to turn the lock, heart in her throat, Rachel looks around, feeling more than a little sick when she lays eyes on the small one-paned window.

It's only the second story. She can do this.

Though not half naked she can't. Reaching under the sink, she pulls out a pair of black tights she always kept in there. For emergencies. And this is an emergency, though not the one she had expected.

Her cellphone lies useless on her bedside table, along with her car keys, her purse and wallet... Dammit. But the thumping on her door is getting louder, accompanied now by loud growls and shrieks that have Rachel shivering. No, no time to think. Now is not the time to go into shock. She has to get out first.

Rachel stands on the toilet seat and looks down through the window. Her head spins.

But behind her the door is splintering, and Rachel Berry refuses to go out before seeing Broadway.

Lips pursed, she struggles to pull herself up to the thin window sill. Maybe she can maneuver around so that she'll fall feet first...

The door cracks, and she catches sight of one gnarled, bloodstained hand. With a cry, she tumbles out of the window, trying to twist herself in the few seconds she has before she hits the ground. She almost succeeds, too. But the thing that really saves her is the person she hits on the way down.

Sitting up, Rachel turns to apologize to the boy she's knocked over, only to see that the boy not alright. He's missing an arm, in fact. Unless, of course, the arm he's holding in his mouth is his own.

She scrambles to her feet, hand over her mouth as she watches the boy shake, then begin to moan. Without a second thought, she's gone, running towards the garage as fast as her stockinged feet can move her, not even letting herself look across the street at the screams that have just punctured the early morning air. Or the limp body lying in the middle of the road. Or the blood, all the blood. No, she tries not to see any of that.

The spare keys are where they always are, dangling on a hook by the carport door leading back into the house. Rachel grabs them and turns around.

The boy is standing by the door, arm still dripping blood. And already, he has drawn attention to her. A few more- they aren't really people anymore, are they?- have started to gather, red mouths stretching wide.

Rachel reaches out with one shaking hand, not daring to take her eyes off of the monsters in front of her. Her hand settles on her dad's gardening supplies. Namely, his favorite shovel. Almost out of her head completely now, she lifts the shovel and points it at the arm-eating boy.

"Get away!"

The first swipe doesn't even connect. Now the boy is at the car's passenger door, the next body a few steps back from him. This one looks like her English teacher. Who does, in fact, live down the street. Or did.

She has time for one more swing. The driver door will be locked, and she doesn't have time to bother with keys now, not until she's inside that car and turning the key in the ignition. She has to go through the passenger door.

The shovel catches the boy in the side of the jaw, and Rachel screams as she feels the bone crack, the sound traveling harshly through the shovel's wooden handle. The arm drops to the floor, and so too does the boy, crumpling in a heap on the floor, lifeless, like dead bodies are supposed to be.

Rachel doesn't waste any time. She dives into the car, slamming the door behind her, and fumbling with the keys as what used to be her teacher presses her bloody hands against the window. Finally, the car rumbles to life, and Rachel throws it into reverse, speeding back out of the garage and into the chaos of the streets.

Where to go, where to go? Her brain begins to snap.

And her voice, never one to let her down, mutters a quiet idea. Whether it is out of simple routine, or the thought of reinforced doors, Rachel takes the suggestion and runs with it. She is shaking too hard to think of something else.

Her car speeds down the streets, which has overnight gone from quiet subdivision to violent hell.

It is 6:40 in the morning.

A/N: Trying something completely different here. This is mostly AU, meaning the kids don't know each other, either from school or anything else. They should still be in character, though the situations they'll be placed in may be cause for some character stretching. Tis the nature of a story such as this.

Any and all feedback is welcome. This is a tricky idea, and I'm not sure I managed to pull it off. Suggestions are loved, and thanks for reading!