Day-Z. 13:11. Tokonosu City.
A boy in a school uniform was rushing through the streets. He was built strongly, about 182 cm tall, with black unkempt hair. His gloomy look, brown eyes with a cold emptiness made passers-by look away. But now he didn't care. One thing was buzzing in his head: 'I'm late!'
'Damn! I shouldn't have been watching zombie horror until late at night. Now I'm late!'
The three kilometers to school usually took him forty minutes. But today, winding through straight streets and short alleys, he hoped to make it quicker. A light wind blew in his face, but something about this morning caused a vague uneasiness. The quiet streets, the rare passersby with pale faces - something was wrong. "I've watched too many horror films," he convinced himself, but the anxiety grew with every step.
The school was on a hill, and the climb to the gates seemed like an eternity. When he finally got there, his heart was ready to jump out of his chest. But it didn't stop from fatigue.
At the gate, a strange man in a rumpled suit was banging his head against the bars. 'Drunk? Or crazy?' flashed through his mind until a stern voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Who are you? Stop breaking down the gate!" Teacher Hayashi spoke in a stern voice that was used to suppressing anyone. "Is this our student?"
"Are you skipping classes? Have you completely lost your conscience? Oh, it's you, the kid with the diary," muttered the teacher Teshima, not even remembering his name.
"Yes, Teacher Teshima. Sorry. I overslept. Will you let me in?"
"Get away from this idiot. I'll deal with him."
Rolling up his sleeves, Teshima walked up to the strange man and grabbed him by the shirt, pushing him against the gate.
The guy didn't wait for the scene to end. He threw the bag over the fence and started climbing.
"Hey! This is dangerous! Get down immediately!" Hayashi was indignant, but the guy was already on the other side.
"Well, now I'm safe," he said calmly, but the joy did not last long.
The teacher grabbed his hand, barely holding back from slapping him. In this position, the guy had a perfect view of her large breasts. With her magnificent figure and glasses that emphasized her severity, she was without any conventions one of the hottest women in the school.
"Can I go to class? I just missed half of the lesson."
"No! You'll stay here until we figure this out. Then I'll personally take you to the teacher!"
There was a sudden cry: "A-A-A-A!"
A sudden male scream made Hayashi and the boy turn towards the gate. Teacher Teshima was lying on the ground, clutching his bloody hand, from which a piece had been torn out. Blood was spurting out.
Kuroto froze, pale, and Ohara panicked, trying to stop the bleeding with his bare hands. "Someone, call an ambulance!" he shouted, but his eyes were filled with despair: there was no help to come.
Hayashi stood to the side, covering her mouth with her hand, her eyes shining with tears. The boy knelt down next to Teshima. "
"Ohara-sensei, stop pressing! Here's the belt, tighten it above the wound! Kuroto-sensei, get water and a nurse!" he gave commands, handing over the bag.
Ohara, who had hesitated, finally tightened his belt, and Kuroto ran towards the building. The guy turned sharply to the frozen Hayashi: "Teacher, help! Hold his head so he doesn't bite his tongue!"
She sank to her knees with trembling hands.
"Teshimaya, hold on!" she muttered, but then his head fell back helplessly.
"He died..." Kuroto whispered as he returned.
"It's hypovolemic shock," the boy began, reassuring himself with knowledge. He checked his pulse – nothing. "It can't be…" The boy looked at the strange man at the gate. Pale face, unnatural movements. The thought of the impossible crept into his head. "No… nonsense…"
The silence was broken by Teshima's sudden movements. His hand twitched, his eyes opened, bloodshot. The teachers froze in hope, but the boy only became more afraid.
"TESHIMA! How are you?" Hayashi exclaimed happily upon seeing the movement.
But the joy was premature. The gym teacher's hand jerked towards her jacket, and the guy immediately understood: there was no time to waste.
"Pull her away, now!" he shouted, grabbing Teshima by the jacket and pulling him away from the teacher.
The other two teachers finally came to their senses and helped pull Hayashi out of the death grip, but in the process her jacket lost its buttons and her top was torn. There was no time to pay attention to that, however.
Teshima was no longer human. His bloodshot eyes and chattering teeth were the final proof.
"Sorry, Teshima-sensei..." the boy muttered before gritting his teeth and slamming his head into the tile. The blows sent pain through his chest, but he didn't stop until his body went silent.
Teacher Hayashi collapsed on the floor, covering her face with her hands, on the verge of panic. The guy came up to her and sat down opposite her. He did this not to calm the teacher's shaky nerves, but to take and brazenly almost completely expose Teacher Hayashi's left breast.
"There are no wounds. Did you get blood or saliva in your mouth?"
"What? No..." she squeezed out, still shaking.
He put his hands on her shoulders, trying to speak as calmly as possible:
"It's okay. Take a deep breath."
After a few breaths in and out, Hayashi came to her senses a little, but the tears were still flowing. The guy realized that it was not only shock, but also grief.
"You need to go to the infirmary. Take a sedative and rest," he said firmly.
Hayashi nodded, swaying. The guy helped her up, holding her by the waist, and handed her to Kuroto:
"Escort her to the infirmary. Ohara, gather the other teachers and report the situation. Find weapons. Check the school for others like him," he pointed to the man at the gate, "and isolate them. The main thing is that no one gets bitten."
The teachers, although reluctantly, complied, understanding the logic of his words.
When everyone left, the boy remained watching the gate. His gaze darted to the silhouette that quickly disappeared into the school windows.
'The troubles are just beginning,' he thought, clutching his bag tighter.
The boy walked up to Teshima's body, took the belt off the bag, and removed the stationery from the pencil case. The bag was now supposed to serve something more important.
Next, he decided to check out the strange man at the gate. Standing at arm's length, the guy waved in front of his face - no reaction. He took a step to the side and made a sound. The man instantly turned towards the noise.
Now the boy noticed a terrible wound on the stranger's back, through which rotten tissue was visible. 'No one can live with such wounds,' flashed through his mind. The blood on the body had long since coagulated, which only increased his anxiety.
He carefully wrapped his hand in his jacket, grabbed the man by the shirt through the bars and pressed him against the gate. The reaction was lightning fast: the man tried to grab his hand. The guy managed to pull it away in time, watching as he continued to hit his head against the bars.
The boy's thoughts began to be filled with disturbing thoughts about this whole incident again. At first he thought that all this was his nightmare because of yesterday's movie, but he immediately dismissed this thought.
'In the movie "Land of the Dead" the zombies were sighted and smarter. Different. And it's impossible... The living dead? Nonsense... But it's becoming more and more true. Damn it...'
The guy didn't want to believe in the events that were happening because they were so fantastic, but the facts said otherwise. From his bag, he took out a black notebook with a large "Z" written all over the cover. He found a blank page and started writing down all the facts and observations he had learned:
'Subject: A human exhibiting abnormal behavioral and physiological characteristics.
External characteristics:
The skin is pale, there is significant damage (for example, a large open wound on the back).
The eyes are bloodshot, the look is devoid of meaning.
Physiology:
The subject demonstrates a complete absence of vital functions: no pulse is registered, there is no breathing, and the body temperature is below normal.
Significant injuries incompatible with life (eg, extensive wounds) do not result in immobilization or death.
Behavior:
Vision: Severely impaired. Subject reacts primarily to movement or sound in the immediate vicinity.
Motor skills: Aimless head banging against obstacles (e.g. metal gates). Subject does not use arms to overcome obstacles or attempt to find alternative routes.
Reaction: Moderate reactions to touch. However, the object shows an immediate reaction to sudden movements within reach.
Purpose: Attempts to bite living creatures. It is unclear whether attacks are limited to humans.
Pathology of infection:
Transmission: By bite. Presumably, the infection is transmitted through saliva.
Incubation period:
In case of severe injuries, death occurs within ~30 seconds.
"Reanimation" (resurrection) occurs within ~10–15 seconds after death.
The rate of onset of symptoms in minor wounds is unknown.
Symptoms of infection: The infected person exhibits the same physical and behavioral characteristics as the source of infection.
Neutralization method:
Destruction of the object is presumably only possible through serious damage to the head, presumably the brain.
Preliminary conclusion:
A hypothetical explanation of the events is difficult within the traditional medical or scientific paradigm.
Further observations are needed to confirm patterns of infection, the physiology of the subjects, and methods for preventing spread.'
The guy closed his book and returned it to his bag. He picked up his phone. First, he called all the emergency services, but each time he heard approximately the same message: [Network is loaded. Call back later.]
The next important call the boy had was from his mother. The first beep rang. Then the second. Then the third. And then the most alarming message he had heard today:
[The number is not answering]
He thoughtlessly lowered the phone, feeling a chill run down his spine. 'Number unavailable.' The words echoed in his head. He ran a hand over his face, keeping his fingers from shaking.
"Shit happens," he muttered, trying to sound confident. But an icy lump of fear was growing in his chest. He quickly pushed it aside, though. Fear would only get in the way.
To pass the time while waiting for the teachers, the boy checked Teshima's pockets. The wallet contained money, cards, and a photo of him sitting in a cafe with Hayashi-sensei. The boy immediately understood the meaning of this photo and felt lousy about it.
'That was awkward. I'll have to talk to Hayashi-sensei.'
He put the photograph in his pocket. The boy's boring wait lasted no more than ten minutes, when a small group of teachers arrived to see him. Among them were the already familiar Ohara and Kuroto, and new faces: Vice Principal Ichijo, a 48-year-old man with glasses and a permanently gloomy look, and Principal Kuro himself, a plump, gray-haired old man with a fashionable moustache. There were no more adults.
"So this is the culprit of this whole incident?" the principal walked up to the pale man with bloody teeth who was standing aimlessly on the other side of the fence without any fear. "What a disgusting mug. An illness? Drugs, perhaps? Or something with the nervous system? Oh, and this, as I understand it, is Teacher Teshima." He looked at the corpse with the broken skull. "He certainly doesn't look very healthy, that's for sure. So what happened here, young man?"
"It's a long and complicated story..." the guy was clearly nervous, trying to find the right words. "To put it simply... That man bit teacher Teshima, who lost consciousness... I guess... Then Teshima woke up and suddenly attacked teacher Hayashi. I had to neutralize teacher Teshima... So to speak, I acted for sure..." the guy finished with a shameful and gloomy face.
"There were no other options besides a split skull?"
"I didn't feel Teshima's pulse… I'm guessing, just guessing… that he, like that man outside the gate… died after being bitten…"
"What are you talking about?! This can't happen!" Kuroto didn't believe the student's words, thinking that he was trying to renounce the crime.
"Calm down, teacher Kuroto. Let our student explain." Kuro was the more lenient and calm of the adults.
"First, Teshim has no pulse. Second, the man behind the gate has a very large wound on his back. I would say even fatal. With a hole like that, people can't stand on their own two feet. I'm sure if we catch this man, he will also have no pulse."
The principal checked the student's words and quickly found the hole. He grimaced slightly in disgust, but he immediately returned to his normal appearance.
"And these are guaranteed signs of the dead state of both?" the question was important and correct on the part of the director.
"…" the guy couldn't answer right away. He wanted to answer "yes" to shift the responsibility from the teacher's murder to supernatural forces, but his rationality screamed that this couldn't happen in real life. Among his medical knowledge, he found several ways to completely deprive a person of a pulse, but the problem was with the teacher Teshima and his wild state, in which the heart should have been beating like crazy. But the fact remained a fact. "No… This is not a guarantee. I admit… It sounds stupid." the guy answered with a gloomy face, accepting part of the responsibility for what he had done.
"I'm glad you haven't lost your mind after this. I can see you're a kind and responsible guy. But your imagination is running wild. These are clearly signs of rabies or drugs. Right, Deputy Ichijo?"
"Presumably. We need to wait for the police and ambulance. Although it won't be soon. After all, neither Ohara nor Kuroto can still call these services." Ichijo answered the director's question, clearly with a claim on these two.
"No matter how many times we call, the network is busy! What can we do? Notify the police via pigeon post? Do you happen to have a pigeon, Mr. Ichijo?" Ohara couldn't hold back his jokes, arriving in a slight state of shock.
Director Kuro laughed modestly at the squabble between his subordinates.
"It looks like we'll have to do it ourselves. We'll subdue this man and lock him in a spare office or closet. And to keep the students safe until we figure out what's going on, we'll announce over the loudspeakers that there's a rabies outbreak in the city and all students should stay in school. What do you say, gentlemen?"
"There are a few minutes left before class ends. We should hurry, Principal." Ichijo replied.
"Very well. But first, we should hide Teshima's body. Let's not scare the students with the sight of death. Ohara, you stay behind to guard the gate. Kuroto, go to the announcement room and announce, 'All available teachers, report for an emergency meeting at 2:00 PM. Students and homeroom teachers should wait in their classrooms for the principal's emergency announcement.' Hopefully, that will keep them in place."
"We need to check the entire school for sick people." The boy suddenly interjected, drawing attention to himself. "I already told teachers Ohara and Kuroto. There could be sick people like that among the teachers and students. Particular attention should be paid to the toilets, where sick people could hide from prying eyes."
"Ichijo, you heard the young man. The student and I will go to the infirmary. He needs to calm his nerves."
"Are you sure you can handle him in his condition?" Ichijo asked.
"I am absolutely sure of my decision." The director lifted the left edge of his jacket, showing everyone a short-barreled six-shot revolver. "I keep it in the safe for emergencies."
All the adults left to do their business, dragging Teshima's body into the booth. The boy followed the principal to school. There was little time before recess. He walked silently, without asking questions, even when they took a wrong turn. But at the fire shield, he could not stand it and spoke.
"And what does that mean?"
The director did not immediately answer, instead he opened the lock on the glass door of the control panel. Inside they found an excellent set of fire tools: two foam and one powder fire extinguisher, a shovel, a hook, a bucket, a felt mat and a 90-centimeter-long fire axe.
The guy especially liked the boat hook and the axe: the first could help keep his distance, and the second could open locks and doors. Well, and heads, of course... But he immediately discarded these thoughts. It was neither the time nor the place for such thoughts.
"I have one rule that I try to follow throughout my life," the principal said, addressing the student like a sage to a traveler. "When I try to understand the inexplicable, I play a game. I assume the worst. What is the most unlikely combination of events that could lead to this? And what is the most unlikely outcome that could result? And frankly, your observations and arguments force me to look for the worst case at this time."
"Living dead?"
"Not a bad title. From some movie?" the director asked sincerely.
"Night of the Living Dead" from 1968 is a timeless classic, but the 1990 remake is also a great movie."
"Hmm, I should take a look. Now take everything you need and we'll go solve the problem with the unpleasant-looking man. We should punish that bastard who deprived the school of such a wonderful teacher. Even if he's not a "Deadman", I just want to hurt him," the director grinned cheekily, and even the guy smiled slightly.
The guy took a hook and an axe from the shield, but this was not enough for a clean job.
"You need a rope. And some duct tape or electrical tape."
Day-Z. 13:55. Fujimi Academy. Near the gate.
"What are you doing here with a student, Director Kuro?"
"No time to explain, Ohara. I'll open the gate, you two punish this bastard first, and then immobilize him. Under no circumstances let him touch you, much less bite or harm you," the director ordered.
"Take the boat hook, Master," the boy handed Ohara the tool with the hook. "I'll hold him down, and you stick the hook into his shoulder so he can't get up."
"This is illegal! These are serious injuries!"
"Ohara, we lost Teshima because of this guy. Let your anger out and hurt him. We'll chalk it up to self-defense. We're on our own here."
"You won't kill him, will you? One death is too much for me."
"Of course not! Now pull yourself together and do what needs to be done."
Ohara gritted his teeth and obeyed. Unlike his student, he didn't look confident, which made him feel ashamed. However, now he could only follow orders.
At first, the guy distracted the strange man by banging an axe on the bars. The bell went off, the director opened the gate, and they walked out. The guy quickly walked up to the man and pushed him face down, revealing a huge wound on his side.
"Teacher, a boat hook!"
"Now… Haaa!" Ohara plunged the hook into the man's shoulder.
The guy, without wasting time, immediately taped both his hands to his body. Then he did the legs. There were problems with his mouth because of the threat of a bite. The man turned his head to the right, which gave him at least some space to tape the man's mouth. He wrapped a couple dozen layers of tape to perfection.
"Now let's drag it inside."
The man was taken outside the gate and thrown behind a booth.
"And what next?" asked the teacher.
"Now let's find out if he's alive?" the guy simply answered.
"Are you doing this again? Boy, no one will blame you for Teshima's death."
"Do what you think is right, young man. Just no violence." The director gave his go-ahead, closing the gates behind everyone.
"And you're going there too?"
The guy turned the man on his back and first checked his pulse on his neck.
"There is no pulse. Record it."
"You yourself admitted that this is not a guarantee."
The guy understood this well. The next good test of life was breathing. The guy first pressed his ear to the man's chest area, but heard nothing. Then he brought his ear to his nose - no sounds. He tore off a hanging thread from his shirt and placed it right in front of the man's nose. To make the experiment pure, he held his head tightly. The thread did not move. All this was enough to draw an intermediate conclusion.
"His chest did not expand. His breathing was neither felt nor heard. Even the slightest puff of air would have been enough to move the thread. It did not happen. This man does not breathe. I am sure that if his nose were blocked for five minutes he would not lose consciousness or stop moving."
"Too much confidence for a schoolboy!" the teacher could not stand such harsh statements.
"Quiet, Ohara." The principal himself approached the man and did the same as the young man. "Ohara. He is indeed not breathing. I can confidently say that this man cannot be alive. Indeed, let's cover his nose. Give him five minutes. Just right..." The principal paused so that everyone could hear the distant words coming from the school's speakers. "The meeting is about to begin. Ohara. I leave the student in your hands. Listen to him when he says that someone is dead. Even if that person is walking."
"O-okay..."
"And you, young man, don't get too rowdy."
"Can I cut off his hand?"
"..." The unexpected question from the student caught the adults by surprise with its bloodthirstiness and inhumanity. The director could not help but clarify the question. "Why is this?"
"It's just that in the movie "The Return of the Living Dead" the zombies were so resilient that their severed body parts could function separately. Even head damage couldn't do anything to them. In this movie, I think, the most dangerous undead of all the movies. They could only be destroyed by cremation or nuclear weapons. And the worst thing is that in the movie..."
"Enough. I understand you. No need to retell the whole film. Well..." the director looked down at the tied man and, without thinking twice, replied. "Just the hand. And if they ask... He was always without a hand. We have nothing to do with it."
"This is not just madness, this is barbarity! How can you discuss so calmly to cut off a hand?!" the teacher commented.
"He's already half dead, teacher. I'm sure his blood has already curdled. It will be another proof of my zombie theory. Although I don't want it to be true myself." the guy added arguments.
The director left these two to themselves and went about his business.
The boy did not hesitate. He secured the man's shoulder with tape, freed the wrist and, holding the twitching hand tightly, struck hard with the axe. The crunch of bones and the tearing of flesh echoed. The second blow severed the hand. Teacher Ohara turned away, unable to hold back the vomiting.
The boy stared at the severed hand, preparing to pin it if it moved. But it remained motionless. He breathed a sigh of relief. "Well… The good news is, this isn't an '84 movie. The bad news is, my shirt is ruined," he noted with annoyance, looking at the bloody fabric.
"A shirt? You just cut off a man's arm! Where is your regret?" Ohara protested.
"Emotions won't change anything," the guy replied in an even tone.
Ohara wanted to continue the argument, but he fell silent after looking at his student. He was squatting in front of the body, his hands were shaking, his gaze was cold and detached. The boy looked fearless, but the teacher realized that it was just a facade.
"Go wash up. Cleanse the blood and rest," Ohara said more gently.
"Can you kill him if necessary? What if he's a zombie?"
"I can handle it. And you leave the axe, a student with a weapon is a bad idea."
The boy nodded, handed over the axe, and quietly walked toward the school. As he walked, he took out a handkerchief and pressed it to his nose, feigning bleeding. This trick might distract superficial attention, but he knew that it would be harder to convince observant people.
Reaching the corridor, the boy looked around cautiously before turning towards the toilet. At the last turn, he ran into three students: a black-haired guy with a bat, a girl with a broom with a nail sticking out of the end, and their silent companion.
"Strange company," he noted to himself, but he didn't show it. He knew he should have shown shock, but it was too late: they had noticed him first.
Now they stood opposite each other, looking at each other tensely.
"Stop where you are!" a cheeky young man with black spiky hair began the conversation by threatening him with a bat.
"I'm standing. What's the matter? And why are you threatening me with a bat?"
"You look suspicious with blood on your shirt."
"Actually, my nose started bleeding. And I was just going to the toilet to wash up." The guy stuck to his story.
"Do you know what's going on here?" the deuce asked now. "What happened in front of the gate?" at least she asked in a concerned tone, rather than throwing around accusations.
"Did something happen? I was just walking from class."
"So you were in class? Yes?" the black-haired student reluctantly believed the boy.
"Takashi, leave him alone. You yourself said that we need to leave here." The gray-haired student didn't really want to start an unnecessary conflict.
"I saw him in front of the gate with the teachers. Well... He looks like the one who was with the teachers and did something to Teacher Teshima. It all looked like murder..."
These words caught the boy off guard. He quickly remembered the silhouette on the stairs. This put him in a difficult position. All that was left was to bend his legend to the end.
"Listen, I have no idea what you're talking about, but I need to clean up the blood." The guy walked forward, but "Takashi" didn't let him go any further.
"You're too suspicious. There's a lot of blood coming from your nose. And your gaze is abnormal. And you're acting too calm in front of armed students. Others would have run away or called the teachers.
"You're too paranoid, Takashi. Leave him alone. Let's ask the teachers about what happened." The girl was apparently tired of all this fuss and decided to be the first to show tact, calmly walking towards the guy.
"Rei, don't go near him! Or else…"
"Not really? Are you going to slap me again?" she asked angrily and resentfully, turning to face him, which made "Takashi" shut up for a second. "You seem paranoid now. You keep talking about a crazy person who bit the teacher and all the other chaos, but there's no evidence. And this guy was just going to the bathroom. Do you think a murderer or a crazy person would calmly walk around the school with a bloody shirt? He doesn't seem crazy."
"You're too naive, Rei. That's exactly how sick people behave. They only seem normal." "Takashi" tried to reason with the girl.
"Okay. Then I'll just point my 'spear' at him, since you're 'so' worried about me."
The guy only grinned ironically at the squabble. The funniest thing was that everyone was right in their own way.
"Takashi" seemed paranoid, but his suspicions were based on what he had seen in front of the gate. True, his evidence was only circumstantial - fragmentary observations and a general warning.
The girl "Rei" approached the situation more simply. Perhaps something really happened at the gate, but she explained it as a trivial incident: a drunk or drug addict bit a teacher, he lost consciousness, and the alert was made for the safety of the students before the police arrived. The guy with the bloody shirt seemed to her an ordinary schoolboy who could not be involved in the chaos at the gate. He did not react to their weapons simply because he saw them as frightened teenagers.
For the guy himself, it all looked even simpler. He knew what was going on, and he saw this group as a source of unnecessary attention that could escalate into panic. They were irritants, distracting from more important matters. But he understood: the squabble was escalating, and it would not end so easily.
And the "gray" remained a mystery. He silently watched the argument, thinking about something of his own. The guy couldn't read his thoughts, but the next question of this observer was unexpected.
"Show me the handkerchief," the "gray-haired" man suddenly demanded. "If you're telling the truth, there should be blood on it, right?"
"…" the guy tried to act ridiculously annoyed, but it didn't work. "Gray" just frowned. "It's simple, isn't it? Show me the handkerchief with blood to confirm your words."
This was bad. If before there was still a chance to end everything peacefully and without noise, now the guy had more of a headache.
The guy quickly assessed the situation: two guys, one with a bat, the other unarmed, and a girl with a broom-nail. In a normal fight, he could handle the guys, but not without risk. The distance to the guys is 5 meters, to the girl - 2.
The guy started thinking and thinking about his next move. And he came up with a plan in a couple of seconds, right before "Takashi" ran out of patience and swung the bat to intimidate.
"Put down your handkerchief quickly!"
The boy acted quickly. The handkerchief flew forward, distracting the three of them, and a moment later he rushed towards the girl, grabbing her broom. He yanked her towards himself, causing her to lose her balance, and then grabbed her waist and ended up behind her. With his left hand he pressed her to himself, with his right he held the broom tightly, pointing the sharp end towards her neck.
The girl resisted fiercely, but his grip was iron.
"Let go!" she screamed, writhing, but he only squeezed her tighter, trying not to let her escape.
Her friends froze, tense and angry, but they didn't dare make the first move. To strengthen his control, the guy forced himself to grin - coldly, with a hint of menace.
"Shit happens, guys," he said calmly, but there was a threat in his voice.
The girl in his arms tensed, her body seemed to radiate hatred and fear. She tried to break free, but every movement only emphasized how close she was to him. The guy felt the warmth of her body, the softness of her waist under his fingers. He felt her breathing quicken, and this only confused him more.
"Calm down," he added coldly, tightening his grip. "No sudden movements. Otherwise your friend will..."
He fell silent. The threat seemed too obvious, too insufficient to break their resistance. Something inside him told him to go further.
His right hand slid slowly down, pushing his thoughts aside and focusing on control. His palm met her thigh, the feeling of a thin stocking burning his fingers. The girl jerked sharply, shock and indignation mixed in her scream:
"What are you doing?!"
He held her, his arms tightening around her. Her palm felt the thin line of her stocking, the elastic tightly hugging her skin. Chaos flared in her head. "This is control. You're just proving your readiness. Only control."
But his fingers were shaking, his heart was beating faster, and his breathing was getting heavier. When his palm touched the exposed skin between her stocking and the hem of her skirt, he felt it all too clearly. The warm, soft surface of her thigh made him forget for a moment why he was there.
Her body tensed and she sucked in a sharp breath, desperate to break free, but he held her, gritting his teeth, his insides torn between shame, control, and something he didn't want to admit.
"Enough," he said hoarsely to himself, forcing his hand to stop.
The skirt rose slightly, revealing more skin, but he abruptly regained control, pulling back just enough to speak again.
"Do you understand me? Calm down and quickly move away. Or worse will come."
His voice wavered, but the threat sounded sincere.
Her friends froze, looked at each other. The black-haired one raised his hands, retreating a few steps and dragging the gray one along with him. The girl was breathing heavily, her body was shaking, and her fists were clenched so hard that her nails dug into her skin. She barely held back the tears that burned her eyes.
The guy froze, feeling her trembling transmitted through his palm. This warmth burned him like hot metal. Slowly, he removed his hand from her hip and pushed her towards the door.
"Go," he said dully. She obeyed, but did not even look at him. Her back was tense as a string, and every step was filled with the desire to break free. Inside, her whole being screamed with humiliation, but she knew that resistance was pointless.
"Rei, scream if he tries anything!" the gray one called out from behind her.
The girl didn't answer. As soon as the toilet door closed, she rushed to the stall, slammed the door and turned the lock with such force, as if she was trying to cut herself off from what was happening forever.
The boy stayed where he was. He stared at the crack under the door for a few seconds, seeing her shadow. Then he slowly stepped toward the sink. His hands were shaking, but he forced himself to move steadily. The broom fell to the tiled floor with a dull thud. He picked it up and stuck the handle into the doorway, blocking the exit.
Water gushed from the faucet. Cold. Aggressive. He leaned over the sink, scooping water into his palms and splashing it over his face. The sticky sweat and heat eased slightly, but the tension didn't go away. It was all real. The screams, the blood, and her thigh. The softness of the fabric. The warmth of her skin.
He exhaled, looking at his reflection. The brown eyes in the shadows of the circles looked at him like they were strangers.
A sound broke the silence. Quiet, almost imperceptible. Her breathing. She tried to hold it in, but he heard it. Perhaps she was crying. Or perhaps she was simply trying not to attract his attention.
He didn't care. Or he wanted to think he didn't care.
'A dream?' flashed through my mind. 'If I could wake up… Everything would disappear.'
He closed his eyes, but her silhouette and warmth came back to him, making his heart beat faster.
"Are you going to keep quiet?!" Her voice broke the silence, sounding sharp as a blow. She spoke loudly, through the door, and every word was filled with rage. "You can't even apologize, can you?!"
He glanced at the crack under the stall door, but said nothing.
"Say something!" she raised her voice.
He turned away, not knowing what to say. His own thoughts were stuck in a swamp.
"Is that all you can do?" she hissed. "Are you so pathetic that you can't even find the words?"
Her hatred pierced him, forcing him to look into the mirror. He splashed cold water on his face again, but found neither relief nor peace in it.
"You're right," he said finally, hoarsely, barely raising his head.
There was a pause. Even the water in the pipes seemed to have become quiet.
"Right?" she asked again, her voice sounding muffled and distrustful.
"You're right, it's all… wrong. I shouldn't have…" He trailed off, unsure of how to finish.
"If you understand that," her voice wavered, but the harshness returned. "Why did you do that? Why did you touch me?!"
He did not answer at once. How to explain what could not be explained? Finally he said:
"I don't know. I just… wanted them to back off. To see that I wasn't joking."
"That's no excuse," her words sounded like a whip crack. "You could have shown it differently! You knew it, but you did it anyway!"
"Her hatred fell upon him, and he did not resist. She was right.
"Yes," he said quickly, almost cutting her off. "I know." He looked back into the mirror. "I know," he repeated, more quietly.
She exhaled, hard and ragged, her voice shaking. "Do you really think that after this I can just pretend that nothing happened? That we'll walk out of here and you'll be the same as you were?"
He wanted to say yes, but he couldn't. It would be a lie. Everything had changed. He, she, their world, everything. And he knew he could never go back to who he had been before. "No," he finally said. "I don't think so."
She fell silent, and it seemed to him that she would say nothing more. But her voice, tired and quiet, rang out after a few seconds: "Do you even regret it? Or did you like it?"
The question hit him harder than he expected. Her words were like a knife piercing his chest. He closed his eyes, trying to escape reality, but her voice pulled him back. He opened his mouth, but no answer came.
"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I really am. And I ask for your forgiveness, which I don't deserve and which you won't forgive." He smiled, crookedly, painfully. "I'd like to say that I didn't like it, that I didn't feel anything. But that would be a lie."
He stopped, looking at his hands, clenched into fists.
"You can be angry, hate, despise me for these words, but…" he paused for a moment, as if considering each letter.
"But?" the anger returned to her voice, sharp as a blade.
"The warmth of your body… It saved me," he said hoarsely. "It brought me back to my senses."
"Self-control?!" Her voice exploded with hatred. "Are you saying that you found peace in dominating a weak girl? Is that all you wanted? A feeling of power?"
His face contorted, but he didn't turn away from the mirror. "No," he said firmly. "It's not that. I don't know how to explain it. It's just... You helped me hold on. Without you, I might have fallen.
"Your friend was right," he began, changing the subject, trying to redirect her attention. "There was a murder in front of the gate. A man bit Teacher Teshima. We tried to help, but it was no use. Teshima lost consciousness, and that's when I realized something was wrong."
Rei was silent, his words echoing in her head.
"I checked for a pulse," he continued, not looking at the door. "There was none."
"You mean to say that…"
"Yes," he confirmed. "Not a single blow. No breathing. But he came to. The teachers were happy, but I… I saw his eyes. There was no life in them. He rushed at Hayashi. I tried to hold him back, but his grip… It was inhuman. The only thing I could do…"
He paused, as if the memories were choking him. Then he managed to say, "I smashed his skull on the tile. Killed him. Or worse, killed him a second time."
Her feet moved outside the door, but she remained silent. The silence became thick, almost tangible. "What do you mean, 'killed a second time'?" she asked finally, her voice shaking.
"You know what I mean," he said quietly. "He wasn't alive. He was dead."
"Nonsense," she said, but her voice sounded uncertain.
"If it were nonsense, I would be glad."
He took a step to the side, sighed, leaning against the sink. "We tied up the man who bit Teshima. And here the strangest thing began. He wasn't breathing. His body was cold. There was a huge wound on his back - the blood was clotted, the flesh was rotting."
Rei covered her mouth with her hand, trying to suppress the nausea.
"I thought he wasn't alive. That he was… a zombie."
Silence fell over the room again. Her voice was barely audible, almost a whisper: "You're crazy."
"Perhaps," he answered wearily. "I wish it were so."
Her breathing slowed. He thought she wasn't afraid of him anymore. But the anger in her voice still burned him. "Why do you think I should trust you? After everything?"
He stepped to the next booth, closed the door behind him, and sat down. His voice became calm, even intimate: "Your name is Rei, right?"
"Rei Miyamoto," the girl's voice was surprisingly calm, almost icy. She glared at the boy with her sharp brown eyes, as if assessing whether he was worth her time. "What's your name?"
"My last name is Ikuta. And my first name..." The boy hesitated, dark thoughts gathering in his head. "After today and my actions, I'm not sure if I deserve the name my parents gave me."
Rei's lips curled up in mockery, the corner of her mouth twitching into a sardonic smile. "I completely agree with you on that one. Your parents would probably look at you with pity if they weren't so disappointed. So, what's your name now?"
"My friends gave me a nickname, stupid but apt. "Deadman." Or, if you prefer, Deadman."
"The irony of fate," Rei snorted. "Spot on. You really do look like a walking corpse. Especially with that shirt covered in blood. And your eyes… well, I don't even want to comment on that. You're a creepy guy, no matter how you look at it."
It was the first time her voice had sounded almost friendly, but the sarcasm and cold causticity in her tone cut right to the bone.
The "Deadman" chuckled quietly, though there was more bitterness in his laughter than joy. He apparently thought the conversation had moved in a more normal direction.
"You can go to your friends. You are no longer a prisoner."
Rei asked incredulously. "Are you serious?" Her voice was suspicious, as if every word he said was a lie.
"Yeah… I'll even lock myself in the stall so you'll have a real head start." He slammed the latch shut to prove his point. "And one more thing… I'm sorry I touched you back then. It's just… your warmth reminded me that I'm still alive. After all the corpses, the half-decomposed bodies… it felt so good that I almost lost my mind. But don't think I'm some kind of pervert. Schizophrenia, yes, but not lust."
Rei listened silently, her face as if frozen. At some point, she took a step towards the exit, but then his voice stopped her.
"If you're going to leave school, be careful. There might be more than one guy like that guy at the gate in town. And if something goes wrong, aim for the head, otherwise you won't have a chance."
She stopped only for a moment, but did not answer, and her steps died away.
"Deadman" was about to take a nap, but a strange noise outside the cabin disturbed his peace. A sudden knock made him jump. He opened the door to see a figure in the semi-darkness... and was immediately hit in the stomach with a broom.
"Damn… it hurts…" he bent over, clutching his stomach.
"Deadman" slowly raised his gaze to behold in all her glory the one who had given him this blow.
Her black school shoes looked ordinary, but the confident movements of her legs, covered in smooth black stockings, emphasized the confidence of her walk. The stockings tightly hugged her slender legs, which turned into rounded, almost provocatively beautiful hips. The short green skirt allowed one to see more than was necessary, but this did not interfere with her fighting look, but only increased the contrast. The white blouse, emphasizing her ample chest, was complemented by a green collar and a black bow, hiding what should not be seen by strangers.
And the hair! That long, cascading orange-brown hair that fell to her waist and came alive with every movement she made. Two playful strands sticking out in front, like a frame for her face with dagger-like, reddish-brown eyes. And the look... God, her look was so full of caustic contempt that many would want to hide. But to his surprise, "Deadman" felt the opposite.
"Did you think that your 'generous' freedom would make me forget the insults and repay you with only a word?" her voice rang out like a whip.
"I suppose that's not the only blow?" groaned "Deadman", trying to rise.
"You think correctly," she smirked. "But for now, you will be my prisoner."
Her words sounded like an order, and there was no room for doubt in them.
"A prisoner?" he chuckled wearily. "The door is locked. No friends around. Even with a stick in your hands, my 68 kilograms will outweigh your 50, even with a pain in my stomach. Let's be honest, the outcome is obvious."
Rei narrowed her eyes, her face tense as if she were weighing her options. Finally, embarrassed, she muttered, "Okay, I'll have to tie your hands."
"Well, good luck. But don't be surprised if your idea fails."
She looked around, obviously trying to find something suitable. But there was nothing in the toilet except the usual school interior. Finally, she sighed heavily and disappeared behind one of the stalls.
A minute later she returned, throwing a couple of black strips onto the guy's lap.
"Tie it up."
He lifted the fabric, examining it. They were her stockings.
Rei, without her usual icy calm, quickly turned away, her voice ringing with anger. "Just shut up and do it!"
"Okay... but if I rip it, don't be offended."
Having tied himself up, he said wearily: "Now I am your prisoner, Miyamoto. What next?"
She looked at him intently, a spark lit up her eyes that seemed even more dangerous than before.
"Go on, keep moving. And remember: one wrong move and you won't forget the next blow."
"Deadman" slowly followed Rei straight to the door of the men's room. But literally a second before the old broom would have been removed from the handle, he asked her one detail. "So which of those two is your boyfriend?" "Deadman" asked calmly, pretending that the question was idle, although his gaze slid over her tense back.
Rei stopped abruptly and turned to him with narrowed eyes, as if he had just asked her to sign for an atomic explosion.
"Are you serious? You decided to find out if I'm free so you could try to hook me up later? Well, I'm sorry, but I don't plan on spending my life with a near-rapist," she tried to put sarcasm into her words, but her voice sounded more like a sharp blade, with which she clumsily but enthusiastically slashed someone else's pride.
"It's a shame, of course," he shrugged, trying to hide his awkwardness. "Actually, I wanted to know who I could expect the most vicious punch in the face from. To prepare myself, so to speak."
She paused as if considering her answer, but her gaze was full of mockery.
"Hisashi. The one with the gray hair. My boyfriend." It was clear in her voice that she was saying it more out of spite than in fact. "Although, to be honest, he'll hit you harder than Takashi. Hisashi is too smart to throw punches. But that idiot..."
She said the last words almost in a whisper, and her voice suddenly became tired. The "Deadman" caught it, but did not interfere in other people's affairs. He had enough of his own problems.
"I'm going to hit you again now. Okay?" the question was more rhetorical, because Rei was clearly in a fighting mood, and the blow to the guy's right side happened instantly.
"Damn…" The "Deadman" felt the powerful force of the deuce for the second time. "How many more times do I have to get hit before we're even? After the tenth time, I'll definitely get angry…"
"I'll take that into account. Well, and so... I think if you behave well, three more blows will be enough for you. And yes. Takashi and Hisashi's blows also count." Rei answered her captive with slight anger and arrogance.
The toilet door opened. Takashi was standing on the threshold, his bat was already falling down, but he stopped in time, seeing Rei.
"Hey! Take it easy! You're crushing my lungs," Rei tried to wriggle out of his embrace, but there was still a hint of joy in her voice.
"Are you okay? He's okay with you..." Takashi suddenly stopped talking when his gaze fell on the "Deadman".
Without a word, he stepped to the side, swinging the bat. The "Deadman" did not flinch, ready to strike.
"STOP!" Rei grabbed her weapon, putting all her nerves into that scream.
Takashi looked at her, stunned. "What do you mean, 'stop'?! That jerk grabbed you!"
"Yes, I know! But he's tied up, see?" She pointed pointedly at the Deadman's wrists, wrapped in black stockings. "You can hit him, but you can kill him with a bat."
Takashi blinked, saw the nodes and... let out a confused breath: "How did this... How did this happen?"
Rei pursed her lips and said, as if explaining to a three-year-old: "A woman's ingenuity. And a broom. Especially a broom."
"Deadman" stood silently, not interfering. He saw how Rei was enjoying her "moment of glory" and decided not to ruin it for her.
"Ah... Hisashi? He went outside and watched the toilet from the window. If something started, he would immediately call me and I would break down the door." Takashi explained their smart plan.
"I see. Now all that's left is to wait for Hisashi and go to the teachers' room to find out about everything that happened." Rei also had a clear plan of action.
"Yeah. That's right... But why didn't that freak resist you?" Takashi still couldn't understand it.
Rei wanted to come up with some excuse, but Hisashi just ran up to them, and they immediately threw themselves into each other's arms. Meanwhile, the "Deadman" noticed Takashi's jealous look. And again, he didn't want to get involved in their business. Instead, he just kept quiet and waited for something interesting to happen, which very soon happened when Hisashi let go of his girlfriend and, without further ado or hesitation, hit the "Deadman" in the face. He staggered and stepped back. His right cheek and jaw hurt badly, and the skin on his face turned red. The guy was clearly some kind of karateka. "I would have hit him a second time. But fortunately, you didn't touch Rei anymore." Hisashi seemed menacing, he would definitely beat the "Deadman" half to death next time if he laid a finger on his girlfriend.
The "Deadman" just grinned at him crookedly. Then he turned to his second friend. "What about you? Don't you want to hit me too? Now's the time."
Takashi frowned, but resisted the temptation. "You've had enough. Let the teachers deal with you."
"Wisely…"
And so, "Deadman" was escorted to the teachers' room under the watchful eye of three students. They walked in a roundabout way so as not to attract unnecessary attention. Although "Deadman" could not shake the feeling that someone was watching them. But, be that as it may, they reached the door of the teachers' room, when it suddenly opened, and their director Kuro appeared behind him.
"Oh! There you are, young man. I was just looking for you. And with you here..." Kuro noticed the captive state of the "Deadman" and the weapons in the students' hands. "Friends?"
"Director, this man is dangerous. He..." Hisashi didn't have time to finish speaking before the adult interrupted him.
"Yes, yes. He killed a teacher and chopped off another man's hand. That's not news, and it's not important now. Better go into the office. We have some really interesting news on TV." The principal didn't even listen to the indignant and surprised students.
The "Deadman" was the first to enter the office, so he immediately saw many teachers. Some were sitting on chairs, some were standing, leaning against the wall, and there were those who were walking along the office. However, everyone, without exception, had common emotions on their faces - nervousness, fear and anxiety. Some were holding phones in their hands and trying to call someone. Not many were lucky. The guy looked at the TV that was on. The news on it was not the most rosy.
[…The number of victims in the city may exceed several hundred. Incidents of a similar nature are occurring simultaneously throughout the country and around the world…]
The guy listened and watched attentively. So far, nothing unusual or supernatural was coming from the screen or speakers. Just a few incidents of attacks and murders, presumably caused by a disease or virus. The police are trying to detain criminals, doctors are trying to save lives, and civilians are hastily leaving the cities. The most common picture of the first hours of the apocalypse. Nothing is clear, but it is very scary and interesting. The three friends who were extremely stunned by the news were especially infectiously staring at the screen. The "Deadman" carefully studied any small details that could give a hint in understanding all this shit. So far, he has not noted anything except panic and fuss. Too little information.
"You were right, young man. Something serious is happening in the city and in the world. I'm beginning to suspect that your theory may be true." Director Kuro is now one of the few who remains calm and cool-headed.
"Damn it..." The last thing "Deadman" wanted was to be right at that moment. He leaned against the wall and began to rummage through his thoughts. And to think better, he decided to untie the restraints on his hands, fortunately he tied them for the hell of it. So he managed to do it in a few seconds. While no one was looking at him, he folded Rei's black stockings and shoved them into his pockets. Who knows, they might come in handy again? And returning them to the girl now would be extremely awkward.
"I'll go to the announcement room and make an emergency announcement. Vice-Chairman Ichijo." Kuro addressed a serious man with glasses and a completely calm face. He approached the principal for further instructions. "Gather reliable people. Arm yourself. And go to the gate. Do not let anyone in or out. If the situation gets out of hand…" The principal took out his short-barreled revolver and handed it to his deputy. "Then remember that you are a teacher first. The safety of the students is paramount."
The deputy did not react to this veiled but clear order. Ichijo put the revolver in his pocket, and then approached the student nicknamed "Deadman". "Are you okay, kid?" the guy just nodded silently. The deputy still noticed that his hands were shaking. And the bruise on his face did not decorate him. "Come with me. I'll accompany you to the infirmary. This time you will definitely reach Marikawa." Ichijo took off his jacket and gave it to the guy. "Put it on. Blood on your shirt attracts unnecessary attention."
The "Deadman" smirked at the deputy's remark. This was the kind of attention she had given him half an hour ago. He put on his jacket and, while Ichijo was talking to the other teachers to find volunteers, he headed for the exit. And once again, as soon as the door opened, there was someone unexpected behind it. This time it was the spy, who had apparently been eavesdropping on them, because from the sudden opening she recoiled, tripped, and fell on her butt.
"Ai…" It was a female student in the recognizable female uniform of Fujimi Academy. A teenage girl of short stature with long pink hair that was tied into two ponytails on both sides of her head. She also had two thin long bangs on the sides, two thin strands of hair on the left side of her forehead, and a longer bang on the right side of her forehead. Her face was memorable: furious orange eyes and furrowed brows. Usually, this was enough to describe the girl's appearance, but "Deadman", unexpectedly for himself, noticed the fact that her chest was even larger than Rei's, which could be considered a hefty achievement, although her thighs did not look as wide as those of the "spearwoman". Of course, it would not be superfluous to also compare by touch, but the guy immediately rejected these strange thoughts, in order to later notice her pulled-up skirt, which revealed a view of women's blue and light blue striped panties. Once again, the boy put his strange thoughts aside and addressed the girl directly. "Are you spying?" the question was more of a tease than a serious question. The boy extended his hand to her, which she took.
The girl straightened her clothes and stood up to her full short height, frowning as if she were in her element. "I was just eavesdropping. And I did the right thing. Is something bad happening in the world?" These words clearly indicated that the sound from the TV alone was not enough to provide a complete picture of what was happening. In fact, at this hour it was not clear what was happening at all.
"I'd like to know what the hell is going on today," the "Deadman" answered surprisingly, tiredly and honestly. "Just know that the city is dangerous. And beware of people who look like walking corpses," he advised the girl and simply stepped away from the door to let Ichijo's deputy through.
"What a pest. Another one?" the man with glasses was very annoyed by the presence of another unwanted student who was aware of the emergency. "Okay… The main thing is not to shout throughout the school that something happened in the city."
"I didn't plan to! I understand the risk of human panic. But I want access to TV and news." The girl is not one to be timid and immediately sets her conditions in negotiations.
"Okay. Sooner or later, I'll have to explain myself to everyone. You can come in if you want. Come on, kid. There weren't any reliable guys here." The deputy, with a slight regret in his voice, headed towards the medical center with "Deadman".
To their surprise, the girl went with them. Apparently, she really wanted to see all the events connected with these two in person. Neither of them said a word. They both didn't care about her. She didn't panic or irritate them - and that was good. Without any incidents, they reached the first aid station, which the "Deadman" immediately entered, and the deputy asked the girl for a favor in secret from the first.
"Can you keep an eye on the kid? I'm not paranoid, but the kid's mental state leaves much to be desired. If he does anything bad, call me immediately. I'll be by the main gate. Do you agree to fulfill the request?" the deputy director always played it safe in difficult situations.
The girl frowned at first, not wanting to be an errand girl, but after thinking over his words, she nodded confidently to the deputy, and he went about his business. She began to quietly observe the events that were about to unfold in the medical center.