"So… this is really happening, isn't it?"
Soryan didn't break his stare at the horizon, his eyes lingering on the endless smoke stacks that rose from different parts of Tokonosu City. He didn't answer, as he wasn't sure whether the question was rhetorical, or if Kasumi was in denial. He too almost couldn't believe it, but the view didn't lie to him, and neither did the sounds of distant sirens and alarms, the harrowing screams of dying citizens echoing throughout the city streets.
"Yeah. Yeah, it really is," Mitchell replied for him, his tone grave and his eyes filled with worry. He stared down from the stairwell at the veritable horde of zeds below, their shambling legs taking them aimlessly back and forth across the parking lot, their moans mingling with the ambiance of the city's active destruction. They were absolutely everywhere, and what made the sight so abhorrent were the numerous Fujimi Academy uniforms that clothed the walking dead. Blood painted the pavement red, and bits and chunks of flesh decorated the environment, entrails spilled haplessly like grotesque sausage-like ornaments.
None of them dared refute his answer, for internally, they all knew it was true, and no matter how much they wanted to deny it, reality would not shift for them. The world was changing terribly, and now, they very well may be experiencing its Armageddon.
Mitchell felt a pair of arms wrapping around his torso, and he didn't need to turn to know who it was; the sad, heartbreaking sniffles said enough. Without a word, he turned and pulled Wakaba into a hug and embraced her, placing a hand atop her head and gently rubbing in an attempt to comfort her, though, inwardly, he knew that this was as much comfort for him as it was for Wakaba—the world was quite literally falling apart before his eyes, and there nothing he could do to stop it.
The young American looked to his friends as he comforted Wakaba. Soryan was no longer gazing far out into the city, only staring solemnly at Mitchell and Wakaba. Kasumi frowned, placing a hand on Wakaba's shoulder as she cried into Mitchell's chest. After a moment, Mitchell spoke. "Well guys, I'm honestly at a loss of what to do. What's your take? We still need to get out of here."
Soryan looked lost. "I… I don't have a fucking clue." He paused, then looked beyond the stairwell and to the zombies below. He studied them for a moment. Suddenly, his blood ran cold. For as he stared down at the endless Zs below, one of them stared back. Right. At. Him. They held a staring contest, and the Ung held his breath in anticipation. But after a moment, the zombie went right back to shambling about, looking at the ground.
The Cambodian blinked. Were the zombies blind? No… he had to be sure—that could've been just a fluke. He studied the horde further, and to his immense surprise, as the Zs staggered amongst themselves, their heads swaying back and forth, there were numerous occasions during which a few of them stared at him or his general location, but didn't do a thing. He even took the risk of sticking his head out a bit further, and they did nothing. Then he saw two other shamblers walk right into one another, and two others tripping as they walked into parked cars.
They were blind…
This revelation in mind, Soryan looked around the stairwell they were in. Although Fujimi Academy was, for the most part, immaculate, since this stairwell was so lightly travelled, nobody bothered to ever conduct proper maintenance on it, and as such, part of the structure had been chipped and weathered over time. Quickly, Soryan found a small piece of concrete chipped from the rest of the structure, and he broke it off.
Surveying the parking lot, he quickly zeroed in on an offline air-conditioning unit a few meters from the bottom of the stairwell.
"Hey mates," he said quietly, gripping the concrete piece. "Call me insane, but I think I just figured something out."
They looked at him, but before they could so much as open their mouths, he reeled his arm back and threw the chunk. It smacked against the unit with a loud clatter, and his friends looked at him like he was insane. Soryan ignored them for the moment, peeking over the edge of the stairwell. To his satisfaction, the shambling zeds below all turned as one, as if they were manipulated by a hive mind, and they began their staggering towards the poor AC unit until they eventually tripped on it, banging their heads on it as more Zs piled onto them. There were numerous bangs and clatters, but they weren't loud enough to draw that many wore.
Soryan nodded to himself. "They're blind."
Kasumi was the first to recover from the boy's admittedly drastic action. "What makes you so sure?" she inquired, frowning.
The Ung pointed to the zombies below. "Look at them," he said. "They followed the sound of the rock I threw, and now they're banging their heads on an AC unit. On top of that, I saw a few of them look directly at us, and they didn't do shit—just went back to shambling around. And look over there." He pointed to another section of the lot, specifically at a zombie that had just tripped. "That one just walked into a car very clearly in front of him, and tripped. I also saw two of them walk right into each other even though they'd been staring at each other. I'm telling ya, they're blind."
"If that's the case, then we can actually work with this. Thank god for silver linings," Mitchell mused.
"Huh." Kasumi stared at Soryan. "Got anything else in that genius brain of yours?" she quipped.
Despite the situation, Soryan snorted at the allusion. "Uh… well… no, I honestly don't have shit."
"I-I might have an idea." Wakaba sniffed away the last of her tears, though it was painfully obvious to anyone with a brain that she was still in dire need of comfort. Mitchell slowly let her go so she could address the whole group. "B-Before all of… this happened—" they all grimaced at her despondency, "—my sensei was planning to use the microbus to travel to the tournament. The keys are usually kept in the faculty office."
"First, the idea to come to our hangout and now this? You're on a roll right now." Mitchell placed an encouraging hand on her shoulder.
"I guess, but I feel like I haven't contributed enough. If only I had my Yumi and quiver…" Wakaba said, downtrodden. "At least then I could help you fight."
"I agree, but your stuff may as well be miles away right now. We'll have to find something for you to use, and soon." Mitchell said as he mulled over their options.
"Me too." Kasumi held out the broken mop-handle. It showed signs of wear-and-tear already. "I'm not sure how much I want to rely on this. It feels like it'll break in one good swing."
"... Well, we won't be able to change that unless we get moving. We can't stay here forever," Soryan pointed out. "So, faculty office? I've only ever gone there once, and this school is huge so…"
There was a beat of silence as the group processed his words, and the friends looked at one another, a silence coming over them that was only broken by the sound of quiet groaning and zombies tripping over themselves.
"... I'll lead the way," Kasumi offered. The once solemn look in her eyes had become resolute.
Soryan nodded to her. "Well then. Should we get moving?"
"Yeah. Let's head out," Mitchell agreed.
After some hesitation, the group promptly set out for their only reliable means of escape. They moved down the stairs and to the second floor, carefully pulling the side door open, Kasumi leading them. She looked both ways.
On the far end of the hall she could see a few shamblers, but it was impossible to tell how many there would be around the corner. On the opposite end of the hall, there were a lesser number, but still quite a few. Neither option was desirable.
The spear-user frowned, then her eyes fell on the numerous classroom doors that were left open or torn down. It was then that she remembered—some classrooms were connected to others, and some had doors to hallways across from one another. It was possible that they could use the classrooms to cut through the school quicker and take a potentially safer shortcut to the faculty office.
"Alright. Follow me," she waved behind her, whispering. She led the group inside, and to the closest open classroom. Her friends lined up behind her in an impromptu stacking formation. She peered inside and saw nothing—
Kasumi nearly gasped as a shambling carcass suddenly appeared in her face. She quickly moved her head, holding her breath, and much to her surprise, the zombie staggered past her and into the hallways before moving off down the hall. If she was unsure of Soryan's earlier theory, she was definitely sure now.
She looked behind her and saw that her friends had similar expressions of surprise, Soryan included. It seemed that even he had been unsure of his own theory. Kasumi didn't like that, but she didn't say anything. She would tease him later about it though, that's for sure.
The spear-user checked the classroom one more time, then waved for the others to follow once she deemed it clear. They moved through it, quickly and quietly, weaving between desks. At the other side of the room, Kasumi slowly slid the door open and checked again. This time, they were entirely in the clear.
They moved to the next classroom without strife. This process was repeated a number of times with most classrooms having not more than a zombie or two. Soryan guessed that since the majority of students had evacuated as quickly as possible, and since zombies were attracted to sound, the screams and yells of the student population must have drawn any lingering zombies from the classrooms. It made their job much easier, that's for sure.
It didn't take terribly long before they grew nearer to their ultimate destination. Only a couple of hallways away, Kasumi peered through another classroom door. She froze when she saw the multitude of Zs lingering about. There were a dozen of them! Where did they all come from? And why this hallway specifically? There was no way the group would be able to sneak past them at this rate.
She pulled the classroom door closed as she turned to her friends, gesturing to the hallway and making motions indicative of the waiting horde. Unsure of her meaning, Mitchell crept over to her, then took a peek through the door himself. He promptly shut the door, then gave the group a headshake.
Looking at Wakaba and Kasumi, he mouthed silently. "Is there any other way?"
Kasumi shook her head. She'd seen all the hallways they'd gone through thus far, and they were absolutely riddled with Zs—it was almost ridiculous. Wakaba looked down in thought, recalling all possible routes they could possibly take through the school.
Soryan silently surveyed the classroom, searching for devices that could possibly aid them. He rummaged through desks as the others watched him or brainstormed. Alas, the Ung found nothing but a few chalk pieces, pens, and a few obnoxiously decorated love letters. On the teacher's desk on the other hand, he found a lidded coffee cup. It was empty.
Thinking about it for a moment, he gathered a number of pens and unscrewed the plastic tops that clicked whenever they shifted or smacked against something. Depositing them into the now empty coffee cup, he broke off a few pieces of chalk and gently laid them down within. He put the top back on.
From his experience, the sound of pens clacking together was loud and annoying, especially during tests where certain students that couldn't find it within themselves to focus decided to play around with them. In a nearly silent hallway such as the one right outside the classroom, the effect should be the same.
The Ung looked at the makeshift noisemaker. With the added weight, there should be a lot of shifting and perhaps even a bit of bouncing on contact with a hard surface. The clacking of pens was loud, but it wasn't loud enough to reverberate throughout a large area. Perhaps with this, he could clear the hallway.
Soryan looked between his friends, getting their attention as he crept to the door. He pointed and nodded towards the hallway. Mitchell gave him a thumbs-up when he realized what the young man was doing. The Cambodian didn't waste any more time. He pulled the door open, then reeled his arm back to chuck the device at a wall down the hallway.
Suddenly, an ear-piercing, blood-curdling scream reverberated throughout the hallways, echoing off of the walls as if the entire school building was constructed using mirrors and some idiot decided to turn on a high-powered searchlight. Soryan froze at the sound, as did everyone else in the classroom. He turned and looked at the zombies. As one, their heads turned towards the source of the scream, and they began shambling away.
The four outcasts looked at one another. They said nothing, but it was clear that they were all thinking the same thing. When the last Zed passed the classroom, the group of four filed out, staring after the horde. Soryan gestured towards them, making a slit-throat gesture of inquiry, raising a brow.
He looked at Mitchell, who narrowed his eyes and nodded in reply. Kasumi and Wakaba seemed decidedly unsure, but they too nodded shortly after. Slowly, they moved forward, falling into an unsaid formation as they quickly and quietly approached the rear of the horde. Had they attempted to slash and kill earlier, they might not have gotten far—the Zs were spread among the hallway, which meant that they would have been surrounded. Now, the undead could only come from one direction, and were much safer to handle.
Kasumi, Mitchell, and Soryan made their ways to three rearmost Zeds on the left, middle, and right lanes respectively as Wakaba stood back and kept watch for any potential surprises. Once the combatants were in position, they looked at one another, and nodded. In the next moment, they attacked.
With a grunt, Kasumi thrust the mop handle forward, and the metal tip speared through her target easily, piercing the skull. In a practiced manner, Soryan stabbed at the pterion like he'd done several times before, the dull scissors meeting no resistance against the soft bone. Mitchell brought the fire extinguisher above his head and slammed it down with unforgiving force, fracturing his target's skull with ease. The metal vibrations were loud, and when the group heard it, they knew that stealth would no longer be an option.
Forgoing subtlety, Kasumi shouted as she stabbed an undead through the eye. Kicking the carcass away, she spun the weapon, then lunged forward. A zed grabbed at her, and she stepped aside, sweeping its legs out from beneath it with the butt of the mop handle. Its momentum working against it, the Z fell face-first into the floor. Kasumi stabbed it through the head. She heard a groan from behind, and she ripped the weapon from the body, whipping around in time to knock both of the undead's arms away. It stumbled, and she finished it, stabbing from the underside of its jaw all the way through the top of its head.
Silently, the American of the group faced a moaning Zed. It grabbed at him, lunging, but he stepped around it, circumventing its attack. The Z's back towards him, Mitchell swung the extinguisher like a bat, smashing it in the back of the head with such force that it was thrown forward. He didn't check to see if it got up, turning around in time to meet a zombie face-to-fire-extinguisher, thrusting the bottom of his improvised weapon at its visage. With a growl of effort, he brought the metal down on its forehead, crushing bone.
Teeth clenched, Soryan stepped at a Zed. It rushed at him, teeth gnashing. With a near-silent curse, he blocked with the makeshift noise maker, sticking the weighted cup into its gaping mouth. The Z bit down, shredding through the paper cup, but not through the multitude of pen tops and chalk pieces. Its teeth occupied, the Ung stabbed at its head with noticeable fury, as if he was unleashing the anger within him for the first time in many years. "Fuck off," he hissed.
His shrill words brought the attention of another Z, and it slowly turned to the Ung from his flank. He saw it before it came, and he stabbed it the same way as he'd done before, all the while hissing profanities and insults. "Fucking deer piss."
This cycle of slashing and killing continued, and the three combatants whittled the horde down until there were none left. By far, Kasumi had killed the most, nearly twice as fast as both Mitchell and Soryan. The boys stared at her, slightly awed, but she only gave Soryan a strange look.
Before anybody could say anything however, the group heard the undoubtable sound of combat up ahead. They huffed, notably winded save for Wakaba, but they pressed forward anyways. By the time they arrived, the obvious battle had been long finished; the bodies of numerous Zs were strewn across the ground, and they came upon a group of people. Living people.
Soryan quickly identified the group. Closest to them was the dazzlingly purple-haired Saeko Busujima, famous throughout the school and throughout the country for that matter as star of the Kendo Club and the practitioner who won national last year. A few meters to Saeko's right stood the orange-haired Rei Miyamoto, vice-president of the Spear Martial Arts Club. Adjacent to her was Takashi Komuro, who held tightly on a bat that was stained red with blood. To Takashi's right was Kohta Hirano, who wielded a nail gun with makeshift sights. Adjacent to Kohta was the blond-haired Shizuka Marikawa, the school doctor. Finally, there was the center of attention: Saya Takagi sat on the floor, staring at her reflection in a broken trophy case, her eyes wide and her mouth open as she looked, shocked at her blood-stained clothes. She let out whimpers indicative of the clear trauma she'd sustained.
Soryan made to announce his presence, but stopped himself on account of Takagi's still form. His friends apparently had nothing to say either, as they slowly approached the survivors, none of them speaking or giving obvious indications of their presence. As they stepped into view, Saeko turned and walked away from them.
"Taka—" Kohta cried out as Rei and Shizuka pushed past him, hurrying to Saya's aid. The orange-haired girl kneeled and put a hand on Saya's shoulder.
"Takagi? Are you okay?" Rei asked softly.
"Miyamoto," Saya breathed shakily.
There was a bit of silence broken only by Takagi's stressed whimpers, then an audible click was heard, indicative of an open door being pushed closed. Takashi stood by one of the school's glass doors, Saeko approaching him.
"You already know the school doctor, Marikawa, right?" Saeko said to the teen. "I'm Saeko Busujima, from Class 3-A."
Takashi greeted her in turn. "I'm Takashi Komuro from class 2-B."
"Ms. Busujima!" Rei exclaimed in recognition. "I remember you won the national championship last year. I'm Rei Miyamoto. I'm in the Spear Martial Arts—ah."
When Rei turned, her eyes met Kasumi's, and the two stared at one another for a moment. It was then that the rest of the survivors noticed the group. As Rei studied the newcomers, Kohta rose from his position on the floor, scratching his head before his eyes widened when he saw the outcasts. Takashi and Saeko turned to them, as did Shizuka, but Saya remained seated on the floor.
"Mizuhara." Rei said simply, looking Kasumi up and down.
"Miyamoto." Kasumi nodded. The way in which greeted one another told of an extremely subtle friction.
"A-ah, Mizuhara-san," Kohta suddenly said in recognition. "And Otonashi-san, Marlowe-san, and Ung-san too! Er, when did you guys get here?" He suddenly stumbled on his words. "Oh yeah, er, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Kohta Hirano from class B, just FYI." The boy's timidity was evident, as was his low self-esteem.
"Hello, Hirano-san," Wakaba waved to him. "And I do remember you. It's wonderful to finally meet you." Kohta gasped and went red-faced, much to Wakaba's confusion.
Soryan looked among the survivors, the attention of others now on their group. He supposed he might as well introduce himself, though the majority of these people already knew who he was. "Uh, yo… Well, just in case you've suffered a recent blow to the head, I'm Soryan Ung. You lot ok?" He asked, mostly out of courtesy. "Actually, don't answer that." To deflect the attention off of him, he nudged Mitchell.
The American grunted. "Hey. I'm Mitchell Marlowe," he said plainly.
Knowing that Mitchell would have nothing else to say, Kasumi introduced herself. "And I'm Kasumi Mizuhara. Nice to meet ya."
While Takashi only gave them a nod, Saeko smiled warmly at them. "Nice to meet you."
As the survivors introduced themselves to one another, one among them grew irate. Saya Takagi breathed heavily—erratically as she rose, venom in her throat.
"Why are you guys being all warm and fuzzy?" she spat. A number of the survivors turned to her, confusion evident. "Why are you being so polite to her—Miyamoto? You flunked last year—you're the same age, she's not your elder."
Soryan grumbled under his breath in English. "Here comes the fucking hurricane."
Though he wasn't looking for an answer, Soryan's English-speaking counterpart replied. "Yeah, I've already braced myself."
Kohta scratched his head. "What are you talking about Takagi—"
The volcano erupted. "DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE I'M STUPID! I'M SMARTER THAN ALL OF YOU COMBINED!" Her outrage was broken only by the gasps of air she took in-between her words.
Soryan noticed that she was very quickly beginning to hyperventilate, but Mitchell was more worried about the volume of her voice. He winced, letting his eyes wander about in the event that Saya's screams brought the undead.
"YOU SHOULD BE LUCKY I'M IN THE SAME SCHOOL AS YOU!" Saya raged. Suddenly, she quieted, and there was a harrowed, shell-shocked look in her eyes that spoke of denial. "I'm… I'm…" She perked up when a hand fell on her shoulder.
Saeko stood before her. "It's okay. That's enough," she said softly.
Saya calmed, but the look in her eyes remained. She turned and gazed into a conveniently placed mirror. "Look at me… All these blood-stains," she breathed unsteadily. "Now mom will… take it to the cleaner's."
There were a few particularly loud footsteps, and Takashi approached Saya. The girl didn't respond to his presence. Suddenly, she thrust herself into Saeko's waiting arms, then the tears fell. As the two fell to their knees, Saeko rubbed Saya back and forth across the head in a soothing manner. The girl let all of her pent-up emotions out as she bawled unrestrained.
The survivors only watched, suddenly much more aware of the reality that surrounded them. The world was changing far too fast for them to keep up with, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.
VVVVV
Mitchell gave a silent huff of effort as he dragged a large metal cabinet to the Faculty Office entrance, blocking the door. Kohta grunted by his side as he placed heavy baskets full of documentation atop the cabinet, wiping his brow as sweat dribbled down the side of his cheek.
"Whew. Think that's enough?" Hirano asked, looking at Mitchell.
"I think so. At least for now. We won't be staying here for long."
"Agreed," Saeko said from his right. "Let's take a break."
Across the room, Soryan rummaged through containers relentlessly as Kasumi stood-by. Wakaba was across from them, also searching through desks.
Soryan licked his lips as he pulled yet another box of strike-anywhere matches from a small compartment. "Christ on a bicycle. What are these teachers doing?" he asked nobody. He pocketed the box. They could be potentially useful later—who knows.
It was only another minute before Wakaba realized something. "Ah. I forgot—the keys are on the wall," she said. She went and took them quietly before showing them off to Soryan.
The Cambodian stared with that blank glare of his. They'd been going at this for five minutes now, much to his annoyance. "Okay."
"With this, we should be able to drive the microbus out of here," Wakaba said with noticeable pep.
"Nice. Looks like we have our ride." Mitchell approached them, evidently done barricading the room—the rest of the survivors were doing their own things.
Takashi and most of the girls were resting their weary feet, except for Saya, who was busy washing up. Rei was busying herself with raiding the contents of a vending machine for bottled water to share among the survivors. The group was discussing a potential plan of escape, at least, until they heard mention of the school's microbus.
Saeko was suddenly interested. "The microbus? That could work," she said, a hand on her chin as she eyed Wakaba.
"Yes," the archer replied. "We used it all the time for competitions and away games. We were supposed to use it for the upcoming competition but…" she trailed off. There was a saddened, self-aware look about her face. Kasumi instinctively pulled her into a hug.
Near the room's windows, Kohta pulled at the blinds. "Hey guys, I see the bus."
The survivors silently acknowledged him, though Shizuka tilted her head in thought. "That's fine, but… where are we going?" Doctor Marikawa inquired.
Takashi answered her immediately, as if he'd been waiting for someone to ask. "We're going to make sure our families are okay," he said. "We'll start with the family closest to us, then go from there. If you're worried about your family, we'll bring them with us. After that we'll look for a safe place and…" he paused.
The room quieted save for the muffled rustling of Saya's clothes. The hot-headed heiress took only a moment to notice, and she frowned as her eyes swept across the room. "What's wrong?" Soon, she understood.
As Saeko clicked at a remote, the television in the room flickered on, and the local news came up immediately. Rei stared at the screen, eyes wide in shock.
"What is this…?"
"What's wrong, Rei?" Takashi stopped next to her, then his gaze found the screen too.
A well dressed woman stared at the camera as she spoke. "—the government is considering taking emergency measures against the outbreaks that have been occurring in locations around the city. However, all the polit—"
Takashi leaned forward. "Outbreaks? What do they mean, outbreaks?"
Saeko switched to another channel. There was another, well dressed woman from another mainstream news-anchor. "—More than ten-thousand have been victimized in the Saitama area so far. The governor has already called for the—" There was a loud pop, and the woman flinched. A gunshot. "—already declared the state of emergency and requested the emergency disaster relief…" she paused as her breathing quickened, the camera focusing on a pair of body bags that suddenly rose from their stretchers. "Gunshots, it's a complete—the police are now using firearms. From what I can see here… no, no!" The camera fell, lens cracked, then screams followed, along with the groans of the damned. Finally, there was naught but static.
The survivors stared uniformly at the screen as they comprehended the meaning of this event. It took a moment, but eventually the screen flickered again, the words, "TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES," printed upon it.
Another woman came on screen, a confused, nervous, and shaken look about her. From offscreen, she was handed a stack of papers, presumably information cards.
"Uh, there appears to be a problem with our remote. From now on we'll bring you the story from inside the studio." Everyone understood that such a flimsy excuse was total bullshit. "The condition outside seems extremely chaotic, so stay inside unless it is absolutely necessary to go outside. We'll bring you more stories as soon as it's safe to cover the current situation from the site." The channel promptly cut back to its technical-difficulties card, now perpetually silent.
Soryan idly rubbed at his chin. "... That's a bit shit, ain't it?"
"It is shit, and I hope things are better back in the States." Mitchell replied. The American let his thoughts wander to his family members. Their only chance would be to make it to his grandfather's ranch in Colorado. There, his stepmother and two sisters would be safe.
The Ung looked at the Marlowe, suddenly solemn. "Yeah," he replied. Similarly, his thoughts wandered to the many zealous relatives he had—aunts and uncles. He feared that they'd be ill-prepared for the situation, but then again, many of them did survive the Khmer-Rouge. Hopefully, they'd be fine.
There was a heavy thud, and the two looked over to see Takashi, his fist balled against a desk. "Is that all!? Why didn't they tell us anything else?"
Saya immediately opened her mouth to reply, but she was beaten.
"Panic."
Rei turned her head to Soryan, confused. "Panic?"
"Yeah. Essentially," he started, "people panic, jump ship and try to leave the city. There's congestion, people are trampled, and the Zs catch up, then the whole bloody thing becomes an all-you-can-eat-buffet," Soryan explained, frowning. "Why do you think that reporter gave such a shit excuse; there's a problem with their remote? If you aren't daft, then clearly you'd know that you just watched a couple of people die."
"Not to mention that panic can kill people just as easily as the dead can," Mitchell added. "Fear makes people do stupid shit, after all."
Takagi gave Soryan an annoyed look, whilst Rei gave an enlightened one. As the words of the foreigners sunk in, the television prattled on, Saeko switching from channel to channel, and soon, much to the concern and horror of the survivors, they quickly learned that the phenomenon was happening globally. The day of reckoning really had come, and the subsequent Armageddon had just gotten started.
VVVVV
"How can you be so sure?"
Soryan stopped and turned to Saya, who folded her arms and glared at him, challenging his advancement. After it had been decided that leaving the faculty room for the microbus would be the greatest plan, the survivors vacated the room and headed for the school's entrance. Now, they were stood on the main stairwell just before the entrance of the building, a few more surviving students with them. Here, Soryan had posited that the Zs were blind, something that Takagi looked to pick on. Soryan wondered if now was really the time to be playing this game, but then again, he did make quite a claim. He opened his mouth to respond, but he needn't have, for Kasumi came to his aid.
"He's right. One of those things got up in my face, and it didn't even look at me. All I had to do was move out of the way, and the thing probably went off to slam its head on a wall or something," she said.
Wakaba nodded along with her words as Mitchell spoke. "He tested it out on an AC unit earlier. A whole horde of them gathered around it like some mosh pit. There were also the ones walking right into parked cars… y'know, almost like they're blind," he reiterated the Ung's posit.
Saya looked at them with narrowed eyes, then huffed, looking away as she rolled them. "Whatever," she muttered. "If this goes tits-up, I'm blaming you, Ung."
Soryan gave a slight nod, satisfied. "Right then, which one of you blokes wants to go first?"
There was silence for a moment as the survivors looked among themselves, unsure. The only one who wasn't so unconfident was Saeko, who simply watched the whole ordeal with an odd mix between a blank look and a smug smile on her face.
"Er, I'd prefer not to go again," Kasumi mumbled.
Eventually, after much dilly-dallying, Takashi sighed.
"I'll go."
"What?" Rei asked, concerned. "Why?"
Takashi gave her a look as he searched for an answer. He shrugged. "I don't know."
Without another word, the boy turned and silently walked down the steps, much to Rei's worry. He stopped at the bottom, holding his breath in anticipation. There was no backing out now. Carefully, he stepped into the horde of Zs that awaited on the first floor. He froze when one of them turned and began staggering towards him, mouth agape as it moaned horridly. For a moment, Takashi was tempted to swing his bat or move out of the way, but he held his ground. To his immense surprise, the Z shambled past him, completely unaware of his presence.
He peered down, taking note of the discarded shoe by his feet. Tentatively, he picked it up and tossed it to his right. It bashed loudly against a row of lockers. The heads of more than a dozen zeds snapped in the direction of the sound, and gradually, they began shambling away, down the hall.
Takashi let out the deep breath he'd been holding, a bead of sweat coalescing on his forehead. He looked over his shoulder and up the stairwell, then he waved the other survivors over. It was time to get the fuck out of here.
The survivors nodded to one another, then silently hurried down the stairs single-file. Takashi pushed the front door open, allowing the first few to escape the building. Soryan gave him a pat on the shoulder as he passed, Kasumi gave a silent nod, and Wakaba gave him a silent thanks. Takashi blinked when Mitchell pointed directly at his face, then gave him a thumbs-up in the most American manner possible.
Soon, Rei and Saeko passed him, along with Saya and Kohta. There were a few others that Takashi didn't yet care to remember, or even learn the names of—ones that they'd managed to gather and save on the way to the school's exit. Those students passed too, and soon there was only one man left.
The remaining teen clumsily stepped down the stairs, some type of metal pole in hand. It was a long, unwieldy thing, and it was clear that the student hadn't a clue of what he was doing; it jostled in his hands as he walked. Unfortunately, the boy's unsteady hands would be his undoing. For when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he had lapse in both thought and attention, and the pole in his arms shook too much.
Suddenly, the tip of the weapon bounced off of the stairwell railing. As the makeshift weapon was made of metal of eerily similar design to a tuning fork, and the railing of the staircase was hollow, the sound created by such an impact vibrated intensely, and the soundwaves produced by it reverberated throughout the school and the entirety of the property, echoing loudly.
From the front gates of the property to the very back, Zs turned their attention to the unique, unmissable, echoing sound, and as one, over three-thousand zeds began to shamble.
The survivors froze as the sound reached their ears, and they all turned, eyes wide as they found the culprit. The teen stared back, horrified, mouth agape. For a moment, time seemed to freeze.
"... RUUUUUN!" Takashi roared.
The floodgates opened, and the survivors began sprinting like mad following no particular order as they ran for the microbus. Mitchell and Kasumi kept close to one another as they weaved between Zs, as did Soryan and Wakaba. Near them, Takashi and Saeko battered through the horde, and behind them, Kohta fired away with his nail gun, spearing heads through.
The farther they moved, the more dense the Zs seemed to get, and to his horror, Soryan realized that he was indirectly responsible for it; his stunt with the air conditioners had brought the Zs to this particular parking lot.
"Agh, fuck me!" he growled in English.
A zed fell in their path, and Mitchell lunged for it, extinguisher in hand. With silent effort, he swung it like a club. Metal met skull, and bone was fractured and caved. As the staggering corpse was thrown a distance to the side, there was a concerning sound between the metal and the flesh, and Mitchell felt a sudden force—a burst that pushed at his hands. He looked down to see that the worn fire extinguisher had burst open, metal teeth jutting out from the new hole. There was an eruption of white, fire-retardant material that shot up before raining down.
"Ah shit." His mind running a mile a minute, the American hurled the deadweight at an approaching Z, causing it to stumble. He made to finish it off, but before he could react, Kasumi rushed past him, crying out as she speared the Z through its head, splattering blood.
Quickly, she wrenched the weapon from its head, then spun, batting an approaching Z on the side with the butt of her improvised spear. It moaned as it fell over, then the spear-user finished it off, stabbing it through the underside of its jaw. She turned to her friends, an impatient look in her eye. "C'mon, let's go!"
Mitchell nodded, then stepped forward. "I'll lead the way! Stay on my ass, guys!" He started forward, and his companions followed, Kasumi at his side, and Soryan and Wakaba to his rear.
"God, I fucking hate Mondays," Soryan commented, irate. "Right, get on then!"
Without wasting another second, they moved forward. The outcasts avoided what they could, slipping between Zs as the horde grew ever-more aware of their presence. They couldn't dodge everything, lest they risk the eventuality of the horde closing in on them, so it was up to the frontliners to poke holes in the wall of undead.
As it was bound to happen a Z stepped into their path. Mitchell quickly identified the threat, and he silently picked up the pace, running ahead of the others, his grandfather's teachings taking over. Seeing his target and the potential threats near it, he sped into a spinning roundhouse kick, whereupon his heel connected violently with the Z's center-mass. Energy was transferred, as was momentum, and the zed was knocked backwards with great force, falling back into a waiting group of Zs that, already on unstable footing, collapsed into a pile of moaning bodies and limbs.
Another Z approached him, and he stepped aside as it grabbed at him. He repeated the motions of his previous attack, and the zed was pushed back. Once again, Kasumi rushed past and delivered the sharp end of her weapon directly into its brain, felling it instantly.
For a moment, Mitchell's attention went from what was happening before him to the group adjacent to him, and he saw the purple-haired Saeko soar like a rocket as she brought her bokken down on an undead's head. The woman didn't rest, slashing upwards at another, then downwards upon another, unleashing Hell upon the horde like a graceful, violent, purple-hued tornado. The moment passed, and Mitchell focused back on the matter at hand.
Adrenaline running through their veins, the survivors made a turn at one of the lanes in the parking lot, and finally, the microbus came into view, resting at the other end of the lane. They ran for it, Kasumi stabbing at Zs in their way with warcries of effort. As they grew closer, Mitchell turned and looked behind them, focusing on the other groups that were following them.
Rei, Takashi, and Saeko were the closest, Saya, Kohta, and Shizuka following close behind them. There were a few others scattered throughout the lot, and Mitchell grimaced as he witnessed one of the lone students trip on himself, his weapon falling from his hands.
For a second, Mitchell was tempted to leave the man behind; the man was already being surrounded, and the safety of his friends took utmost priority. Alas, the pragmatic side of him took the wheel.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Mitchell groaned with great irritation. Soryan slowed when he heard the American's words, and Mitchell turned to him. "I better go help weak feet over there. You guys get to the bus."
The Cambodian whipped around and caught sight of the situation. "Oh, you yankee-dankee-dandy-doodling—fucking hell, don't kill yourself while you're at it." He took off after Kasumi and Wakaba, hesitating only a moment more.
Mitchell's eyes followed after his companion a second longer, then he hurried for the fallen student. A Z lunged for the downed teen, but Mitchell was quicker. He approached, his open palm sweeping across the ground for the student's discarded bat, and he clenched it tightly. The Z's teeth neared the fallen student, but it never had the time to bite down, for Mitchell ran and swung for the fences.
A large crack, a thud, and the zed was no more. Mitchell, irate, extended a hand to the shaking student. "Get your ass up! I'm not about to die for you—I've got other people to worry about!"
The student took his hand and scrambled to his feet, stammering out a thanks of appreciation. Mitchell didn't stick around—he had already dashed for the bus. Nearing the vehicle, he saw Kasumi and Takashi waving at him from the doors. He picked up the pace, easily breezing by a number of the infected, and before he knew it, he had thrown himself through the doors, landing face-first in the plush mammaries of a very surprised Wakaba.
The timid girl squeaked as they fell back into one of the bus's seats, dazed. When she recovered, she shook her head, then gazed at Mitchell with obvious concern. It took her a moment, but when the surprise passed and she saw the situation, the concern became a tint of red as blood rushed to her cheeks; Wakaba lay on her back with Mitchell atop her, his head rested snuggly between her pillowy breasts. The American saw this, then he instantly pushed himself away, as if he'd been resting face-first on a pile of hot coals.
"Ehhh…" Wakaba trailed off and put her hands to her cheeks as the blush deepened. Had her visage been any hotter, steam would've risen from it.
Mitchell gave her a blank look, though the awkwardness in his stance could not be ignored. "Uh, hey look, we've all been through a lot today so let's not mention this, okay?"
Wakaba only nodded furiously. "Y-Yeah…"
"I didn't hurt ya, did I?" Mitchell asked.
"No!" Wakaba assured him. "No… it actually felt kind of nice…" she whispered to herself.
The American leaned in, as he had not caught the tail-end of her statement. Wakaba noticed this, then waved her hands at him in a placating manner.
"Ah! It was nothing!" she blurted, blush deepening.
Before Mitchell could reply, the attention of everyone on the bus was snagged as another pair of students rushed in: the one that had fallen, and a girl, presumably the teen's girlfriend. They hugged each other, shying away from others as they made their way to the back of the bus.
"Well, that was a rush, wasn't it?" Mitchell turned to see Soryan half-facing him, resting against one of the seats.
"Yeah. One I could've gone without." Kasumi stood next to the Ung, arms crossed with her makeshift spear leaning on one of the walls of the bus.
Mitchell inwardly shrugged. "Well, maybe we can finally have a moment of peace now. You can bet I'm gonna make the most of it." He exhaled as he sat down on an aisle seat next to Wakaba, resting his new bat at his side.
"Make it count, man. Things ain't over yet." Soryan took a seat for himself, resting his weary feet as Kasumi sat down to join him. Unfortunately, the momentary calm was broken when the Ung's gaze fell beyond the window. "Fuck, I jinxed it."
"What is it?" Kasumi inquired, leaning over him. Soryan ignored the softness against his chest.
"Look." He nodded, as it would be uncomfortable to raise his arms in this position. "It's the fucking sister-opener…"
The moment the words left his mouth, there was a sharp intake of breath—two of them. Soryan turned his head to the source, and though he did expect to find the pale visage of a stressed Wakaba, he was quite surprised to also see Rei standing near him, a sudden glare in her eyes.
"Where?" she demanded, heat in her tone. Soryan turned to answer, but Mitchell beat him to it.
"There." He pointed, a slight growl in his throat as his brows narrowed. For a brief moment, terrible memories of the occurrences in which he and Kasumi had to defend a terrified Wakaba from the fetid claws of sexual harassment flashed through his mind, and a simmering anger boiled beneath his skin. His companions had similar reactions, save for Wakaba, who pressed herself against the bus seat.
If Rei noticed the sudden shift in the air, she didn't show it, stomping over to the front of the bus where Takashi watched as more survivors came running, Shido among them. It was then that the microbus finally rumbled to life, Shizuka at the wheel.
"We can go now!" the doctor called.
Takashi shook his head. "Wait just a little bit longer," he said calmly.
Shizuka was unsure. "They're in front of us. Any more and we won't be able to drive through here," she worriedly informed him.
"Run them down," Takashi said simply.
In the seat behind Mitchell, Saya deadpanned. "If Dr. Boobs tries to drive through that many, we'll flip the bus."
Soryan automatically opened his mouth to disagree, but he stopped himself, deeming such an endeavor to be pointless in the long run. At this point, such an event would be entirely dependent on density, angle, and weight distribution. So long as the bus is moving fast enough, they should be able to ram through the Zs, especially since the undead weren't congregating so close to one another.
To the front, Takashi grit his teeth, obviously frustrated by Saya's statement. Without a word, he turned to leave the bus. Rei stopped him, grabbing him by the arm.
"We don't have to save him!" Her statement drew the attention of everyone on the bus, and the occupants turned their attention from the coming survivors to the furious Rei. Their timing was impeccable… and unfortunate.
Hearing her words, Takashi's frustration grew, and he yanked his arm away. "Jesus! What do you mean we don't have to save him?"
Rei glared at him, stepping forward, pushing her face into his. "We don't have to help him! We should just leave him here to die!" she shouted angrily.
Takashi paused, staring into her hate-filled eyes with a degree of shock that he couldn't quite shake. He'd never seen Rei act like this. What the hell has gotten into her?
"You… how could you say that?"
Rei didn't reply to him, biting her lip as she held her rage back. After a second of tense silence, she turned away from him. "Dammit!" she cursed under her breath. Inwardly, Mitchell, Kasumi, and Soryan couldn't help but totally agree.
A few precious seconds passed, and students filed in one-by-one until eventually, the man, Shido himself strode in casually, his silvery tongue already wagging as he made his way to the back of the bus. There was a brief instant in which the serpent's eyes flitted over to Mitchell, and when the cogs began to turn in Shido's mind, his eyes next found Kasumi, then Wakaba, and there was the slightest upturn of his lips, as well as a gleeful widening of his eyes. Only Mitchell was able to clearly see this, as he had been the one seated next to the Otonashi.
The American's brows narrowed slightly further into a glare that said, Don't try it. Shido's lips quirked down unnoticeably at that, and he straightened his suit and tie before brushing past the American, humming as he chose to stand in the middle of the aisle at the back of the bus.
The door to the bus slammed shut. "Okay, go!" Takashi ordered.
Shizuka didn't waste a moment. "Okay, hang on!" She put the pedal to the metal in an instant, and the tires squealed as they were suddenly put into motion, friction tearing small flecks of rubber from them.
In a few seconds, the bus circumvented the horde and pushed through the front gates of Fujimi Academy. The survivors had finally escaped.
VVVVV
A/N: Someone asked, so I'm answering.
Here's a list of the OCs:
Soryan Ung - Sir Yeetus Deletus
Mitchell Marlowe - Seething Abyss
Kasumi Mizuhara - OC
Wakaba Otonashi - OC
And that's it… so far. Anyways, to answer the next question about my ethnicity/race: Yes, I am Cambodian, but I am not from Cambodia. The culture I practice here at home is a mix between American and Cambodian, so take that how you will.
Seething Abyss: "And yes I am 100% American btw. This is my first time doing something like this EVER, so I can afford you cutting me some slack, yeah?"
Yeh. Now, onto other questions. Will we stay with the main cast? Sometimes yes, but we've yet to really decide on a true divergence, if a divergence at all.
Next question: Dead Rising references? You may not know this about me, but I'm not as cultured as you think. I know what Dead Rising is, and I've seen people play it, but I wouldn't know a lick of a reference from it, unfortunately.
Seething Abyss: "World War Z fits a little too perfectly though. THE BOOK VERSION. Which is the entire reason I'm going all-in on it."
Yep… okay, that's all we have to really say. Cy later then, I suppose.
WAIT! One thing: Expect chapters to be spread out—we have been quite busy the past few days and will surely be evermore busy the coming weeks. The AP Exams are this coming week and if I fail, then I can say goodbye to my future. Right then. Bye...