Muttering obscenities under my breath wasn't going to get me out of the situation I was in now. But maybe it will warm my lips… Never had I ever thought this was how I would come back to my high school: cramped in the disgusting bathroom stall of D hallway with biters roaming the corridors. God, please forbid they figure out I'm in here. I don't like showing fear, but my body isn't shaking just from the dropping temperatures. I always joked, in my younger years, that I would die in this school.
I fumble through my bag, making the least noise possible, and my fingers run across the little bumps of my handgun.. Was this even an option? Tears escape my eyes and rush down my cheek. I slowly pull the piece from the bag. With a quivering lip and a hopeless mind, I press the frigid metal to the side of my head. My finger slides to the trigger as I whisper my last goodbyes; to the people I love whose condition I am unaware, even after all this time, and to the ones I've already lost to the dead.
"Thanks for everyth-"
"ANDIAMO!" I jump from the surprise. Someone else is in the school?
Tick tick tick! The bottle of Advil I had in the open pocket of my pack falls out and the pills tap against the ground. I might as well have just rang a dinner bell.
"Crap," I breathe out. Kicking the stall door open, I proceed cautiously. The voice sounded like it came from down the corridor so the geeks are probably all headed in that direction. Just to be safe, I wrap my fingers around the butt of my knife that's still strapped to the outside of my right thigh.
"Unghngngh." Three walkers are still just outside the main bathroom door. They heard the pills hit the ground and now they've realized that food isn't far away.
I slide the knife from its pocket and change my grip. Silently, I jog to the closest biter and ram the knife's tip into its soft, deteriorating, skin and push through the skull to its brain. I pull my weapon out as dirty blood drips down the side of the biter's head. One down.
The next isn't far behind. I flip my hand over 180 degrees and drag the blade along the front part of the monster's forehead. Getting in close, I grab it by its neck and run it into the wall, holding it in place. I re-center my aim with the knife to its eye socket and jab forward. Its lifeless, reanimated state slides down the brick wall into a heap on the ground. Two down.
I shift my weight quickly, ready to attack the third walker, but I spot it stumbling down the hall towards the sound of more voices.
"Rapido, rapido!" Don't these people know not to scream by now? They'll get themselves killed! Sprinting down D hallway, I round the corner to see the herd of walkers that kept me stuck in the stall. They're focused on their next meal. A middle- aged man and woman are running towards the lobby doors of the school with a little boy in tow.
The man pulls on the door with all his strength. I guess he doesn't realize I jammed the doors shut so no more geeks could follow me in to the school when I got overrun. The mother clutches her son and cries for her husband to move faster. Walkers close in on them. The father abandons the door and moves in front of his wife and son to protect them, swinging a bat back and forth. They move into a corner in order to filter the amount of walkers able to reach them.
My brain tells me to run the other way while all the walkers are distracted but my heart tells me to stay and help. I'm the reason the doors won't open. Figures. Nothing is ever easy for me.
The lobby is packed with about forty walkers and there would be no way for me to make it straight through. My quick mind gives me an easy solution. Heading back down D corridor, I make a left and work my way into the auditorium. That room has four exits: one in the bottom right and left and one in the top right and left. The top right exit will bring me in to the south lecture hall, which will lead me right out to where the family is.
I approach the door, with knife in hand, and run through the giant hall. It's surprisingly empty with the exception of a few biters down towards the stage. They're far enough away where I could outrun them so I don't even bother throwing away my time. I scramble through the south lecture hall. Scouting out the rest of the area, I check for anything: walkers, weapons, gear, and even other people. The only thing I find is a metal pole in a cabinet door. I pull it from its hinges and run to the door leading out to the main lobby. Peering through the window, I can see the family is still holding up. The mother is now standing in front of her son with a knife in one hand killing all the dead she can.
Bursting through the door, I punch and kick at the walkers that get too close for comfort. The family is clearly shocked to see someone who isn't a part of the walking dead; but, in a way, aren't we the ones who are the walking dead? Sooner or later, we'll all pass on or reanimate.
"Go back to the door!" All I'm doing is screaming at surprised faces that have no idea what I'm saying. I point to the door and say, "Go, go, go!" As I look away, a walker grabs hold of my jacket and pulls me towards its mouth. I snake my right hand up between us and uppercut its chin. The head flies back, I break the grip from one of its arms, slam the blade of my hand into the inside of its other elbow, and pull away from its other grip. I kick it into the rest of its kind.
By now, the family has gotten the gist of my message. They kick and push at the doors as hard as they can. More walkers surround me but they aren't a problem. I slip out my knife and remember my multiple attackers training from the dojo. When I'm again clear for a few seconds, I toss the pole to the father.
"Use this!"
"Si, si!" He responds. He jams the pole into the doors. Rolling my eyes, I come to the conclusion that at this rate, we'll never get out. The rest of the walkers are still about three seconds behind us.
"Move out of the way," I yell, motioning my hands to the side. I pick the weakest point on the doors and, with all the physical power I possess, kick through the door. It swings open and the light from outside shines in. "RUN!"
"Correte," the man repeats to his family. The mother rushes out first, followed by the father, and the little boy grabs my hand. He turns to run and I go to follow but a hand wraps around my ankle. I let go of the boy's hand and scream, "Don't look back!" His parents grab him and push him out the door. The hand on my ankle yanks backwards and I lose my balance. My head slams down hard against the tile floor and the last sensations my body feels are the hands of biters grabbing and pulling at me before everything goes black.
Considering continuing this... any thoughts?
-FateOrChoice