"So hey, when did you and Mary start getting close?" Charles asked as the group slowly made their way through the blood stained hallway, which barely had any lighting.
"What are you talking about?" Thomas replied, confused.
"Oh come on, don't play dumb with me. You and I both know that Mary clearly has a thing for you," Charles said, giving Thomas a light tap on his back.
"You're delusional. Stop imagining things and focus," Thomas shot back in a slightly serious tone.
As he said so, a flashback of when he was around 7 years old appeared in his head. At that time Thomas was completely broken — unable to bear the daily abuse his aunt and uncle subjected him to after his parents' death, he had made up his mind to end his life by jumping off a bridge and into the cold winter waters below. Just as he was about to jump, a girl about a year younger than him — fair skinned, short haired and surprisingly taller than him despite being younger — pushed him back to safety and began scolding him for being careless and trying to throw away his one and only life. There was something fierce in her eyes, sharp and unyielding, yet her face was undeniably cute which made the scolding somehow both intimidating and disarming at the same time. Shocked, Thomas asked her in an emotionless tone why she had interfered.
"You're an idiot, you know that," she said, stretching her hand towards him before adding, "Come on now, let's go cheer up."
It was the first time since his parents had died that someone had been genuinely kind to him. And so Thomas, after that first meeting with the girl who went by the name Veronica, fell for her and stayed in touch with her ever since.
(I hope Veronica is holding up) Thomas thought, and Charles — seeing Thomas wear a worried expression for the very first time — decided not to push any further.
"You know, this place reminds me of those horror shows where they explore a haunted house and end up getting caught by demons," Kingsley whispered as the team slowly approached a junction. At this point the team had all their senses working at maximum capacity — the hallway was abnormally silent with not a single zombie in sight, and that made it even more unsettling.
"Guys, from this point on we need absolute stealth — no conversations," Thomas said, turning to the boys behind him with his flashlight. But then he noticed their faces go pale.
Following their gaze, Thomas slowly turned around — and there it was. Right in front of him stood a tall, pale skinned man with white eyes, blood stained clothes and a nauseating bite mark on his left arm. For a moment nobody moved. Nobody breathed. The zombie's head tilted slowly to one side like a broken machine registering their presence, its cracked lips peeling back to reveal teeth stained dark with dried blood. A dry, hollow sound escaped its throat — low, rattling and deeply unnatural — before it opened its mouth to bite.
Instinctively Thomas knew what he was dealing with. Without wasting a single second he dropped to the dirty floor and with every ounce of strength in him kicked the zombie's knees — snapping both legs clean in two.
The zombie collapsed with a sickening crack but that didn't stop it. With an almost inhuman persistence it began crawling towards Thomas, its broken legs dragging uselessly behind it, its white eyes locked onto him with a hollow, lifeless hunger.
"Watch out, bro!" Charles shouted, his voice cracking with panic.
For a split second nobody moved — frozen by a mixture of shock and pure terror. Then Kingsley, jaw clenched and hands shaking, mustered every ounce of courage he had, rushed forward and kicked the zombie's head so hard it flew clean off its body like a football, letting out a loud clang as it crashed into one of the lockers.
Silence.
The boys stood there breathing heavily, staring at the headless body still twitching on the floor. Nobody said a word for a full five seconds.
Then Thomas snapped back to his senses and shouted in a panic, "Let's leave this area now — we've been exposed because of the noise!"
After a long run, making loops and turns in the process, they finally made it out of the school building and into the compound.
"Aww man, they took all the cars. Now what?" Charles said, still trying to catch his breath, his voice thick with disappointment.
"Ah, who cares — let's just enjoy the sunlight while we still can," Selom said, opening his arms wide as if wanting to give the sky a hug.
As the group stood in the compound slowly recovering, a gust of wind carrying an unpleasant smell blew around them.
"What in the world—" Felix said, being the first to catch the odour, covering his nose in disgust.
"I think it's rotten food," Kingsley said, trying to block the smell with his old handkerchief.
"My eyes are practically melting from the stench," Charles said as he watched Selom's face turn green.
"This is to be expected," Thomas explained, completely unbothered by the smell — mainly because during his childhood he had often been subjected to eating spoiled or foul smelling food. "The city has been without power for days now. Perishable foods like meat are starting to rot."
Kingsley, noticing Thomas facing the school wall — painted blue and standing twice the height of an average person — said, "Don't tell me we're going to climb that."
"Yep," Thomas said, his eyes scanning it with a calm, analytical look.
"Ha," Selom said with a smile, but his expression quickly turned serious as he added, "That is impossible."
"Pretty ambitious, aren't you? This wall was specifically built to prevent exactly that kind of thing, and here you are trying," Felix mocked. But Thomas ignored their complaints and asked them to follow him.
"Listen up folks, we're about to witness a miracle," Charles announced as they moved towards the sports equipment room — unaware that somewhere behind them, a zombie was slowly and silently making its way in their direction, having followed their scent from deep within the school building.
After rummaging through the equipment room for nearly two minutes, Thomas finally found what he was looking for — the tall chair volleyball referees sit on. With the help of his companions, they carried the heavy item and placed it flush against the wall they needed to climb.
"He's a genius," Charles said as he climbed up the chair.
"Stop over-hyping him — this is just common knowledge," Felix grumbled, following behind him.
"What is this I'm smelling? Jealousy?" Charles said in a teasing tone.
"You go ahead, I'm right behind you," Thomas said, gesturing for Kingsley and Selom to move. But just as he was about to climb, he sensed something behind him. He quickly turned around — only to be met with the sight of an empty, dirty compound. Thomas let out a quiet sigh and climbed up.
The six boys reached the top of the wall and began observing the situation at the fire station below.
"The coast is clear," Selom said. Thomas nodded in agreement and one by one they dropped down as stealthily as they could.
After making sure no zombies were lurking around, they entered the now rundown fire station. It was slightly dark inside and to their disappointment, completely empty of fire engines.
"Maybe they were out on a mission when it all started," Selom said, slightly deflated, as he took a step further inside.
"Regardless, we don't have all the time in the world so we'd better get started," Thomas said in a serious tone, distributing tasks between them — Kingsley and Felix were to grab any spare firefighter clothing, Charles and Selom were in charge of finding available food and water, while Christian and Thomas would explore for any other useful materials.
Thomas and Christian managed to find the fire captain's room, which had accumulated dust and cobwebs from having gone untouched for some time.
"Isn't it weird, Thomas?" Christian said, picking up two walkie talkies from a shelf.
"What is?" Thomas asked, grabbing two fire axes from the wall.
"The fact that since stepping out of the classroom, we haven't seen a single survivor — nor have we encountered a large number of zombies," Christian replied, visibly unsettled. Thomas looked at the worry in his eyes and chuckled lightly. "Then we just have to be prepared for anything."
"Yeah, you're right. Thanks," Christian said, visibly relieved.
After gathering everything they needed, the group slowly made their way out of the fire station when Christian noticed a door at the far end of the wall.
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked, drawing everyone's attention to it.
"So there was a door there the entire time?" Kingsley exclaimed, shaking his head as he recalled the trouble they had gone through climbing over the wall.
"Anyway, let's move," Selom said, taking the lead.
As they walked down the narrow gap between the fire station and the wall, the zombie that had been silently trailing them finally made its move. Having crept through the fire station undetected while the boys were busy gathering supplies, it had positioned itself behind the door at the far end. The moment it heard the approaching footsteps, it forced itself through with a crash — and before anyone could react, it lunged and bit the unsuspecting Selom on his hand as he instinctively tried to stop it.
"Damn it," Thomas muttered as he rushed towards the zombie with the fire axe and struck it twice in the head with swift, decisive blows.
"Oh no — please tell me I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing," Charles said, pointing to the bite wound on Selom's left hand.
"Don't — don't worry guys. It's not like everything we see in the movies is real. Besides, I feel fine," Selom said, his voice trembling as blood oozed from the wound.
"Yes, that's—" Kingsley began, but his words were cut off as Thomas's expression darkened, unreadable, as he pointed to the wound and said quietly, "Are you sure about that?"
At that, Selom slowly looked down at his hand. The wound had already turned black.
"But just because the wound is black doesn't necessarily mean—" Christian tried to reason, but Thomas cut him off again.
"Open your eyes. When have you ever heard of a wound turning black within seconds of appearing?"
"Well that doesn't mean anything! Don't you dare lay a finger on my friend," Felix said, rushing over to shield Selom.
"Can't we just—" Kingsley began to suggest.
"You want to suggest amputation, right?" Thomas said, cutting him off. "Then let me ask you this — after amputation, then what? You know very well that he'll need antibiotics and extensive medical treatment that we simply don't have access to."
The silence that followed was heavy. Everyone knew Thomas's point was valid.
"So this is it, huh?" Selom said quietly, his legs giving out beneath him, his wounded hand shaking abnormally. "I just have to die?"
"Hey, bro — no one said that," Charles said, trying to comfort him. But then he noticed Thomas tighten his grip on the axe and raise it high above Selom's head.
"Hey — what are you doing?!" Felix shouted, lunging forward but unable to reach him in time.
Just as the axe was about to come down, Selom looked up at Thomas with an immeasurable hatred and said:
"Yeah, that's right — do it. You've always been that heartless boy anyway. But I promise you this — someday, somewhere, the person you love the most will suffer a fate far worse than mine, and you won't be able to do a single thing about it. So tell me Thomas, when that day comes — will you raise your weapon against them too?"
And then with that, everything fell silent.
Selom's blood slowly spread across the ground, creeping towards Thomas's feet.
Thomas's hand trembled. Felix erupted with a rage that had no words to contain it. "You psycho — how could you?! HOW COULD YOU?!"
Kingsley slid down against the wall, his head buried in his hands, unable to look. Christian stood completely frozen, his face pale as a ghost, the walkie talkie he had been carrying slipping from his fingers and hitting the floor with a hollow clatter.
Just as Charles was about to speak, he noticed Thomas slowly turn his head — and saw tears streaming silently down his face.