I stand to look at him but say nothing. What do you say in a situation like this? I’m not entirely sure he realizes there’s anyone else in the room. If he comes after me I’d like to think I would kill him but the truth is, I don’t know how. If I had rope, I’d tie up Mr. Adams to be on the safe side, but let’s face it, there’s not going to be any rope in here.
“Shane, get the flag,” I shout out of the blue, before the rational side of my brain has time to convince me it won’t work.
“What?”
“Get the flag down. We need to tie him up. He might turn. Hurry Shane.”
Reluctantly, he holds out his hand and I help him up. I should be monitoring his every uncertain move, but I can’t. I need to find a way out and the only way appears to be through the courtyard. If we leave this room and break a window to get into another one, maybe we can get out of the building, make a run for it. I know they want us to stay inside but I can only assume they didn’t know someone in the building was already infected.
The sound of the first bell ringing sends a shrill scream through the room. We’re all so on edge I doubt anyone realized it’s only 8:00.
I fiddle with the lock on the window, trying desperately to calm my nerves. There’s a girl in the courtyard, running through the pouring rain, probably with the same idea as me. But this isn’t the room to run to. Jenny. It’s Jenny.
I throw open the window. Raindrops pelt me like bullets from the heavens, trying to erase the evil that’s been brought into this world. Their cold sting has never felt better. I dangle my legs over the windowsill to hop down, yearning to feel more of the rain just to feel something normal.
“Jenny, we’re trapped in here, we gotta find another way out.”
Her hands grip down on my leg with unnatural strength. Her mouth shoots towards my shin. A rattlesnake without a tail. No warning of its cruel intentions. She’s been infected.
CHAPTER 4
Instincts take over. I kick her square in the jaw with everything I have. She barely flinches. Before I can kick again, her mouth is poised for attack, yellow saliva oozing from her outstretched tongue.
I kick again, swinging harder than I knew was physically possible. My heel connects with enough force to send her stumbling backwards before both of us topple over. I reach for the window frame for support but I’m not fast enough. My hands miss. The last thing I see is Jenny on one knee, preparing to strike again. I didn’t even knock her down.
My back hits the floor, sucking the wind from my already heaving chest. Blackness swallows everything around me before slowly pulling back its venetian blinds with an unsteady hand. I just want to lay here until the throbbing subsides but by then it’ll be too late. She’ll have crawled through the window and killed me, if that’s really what we’re calling it. I try to move but the pain courses through my body, rendering me helpless.
She’s crawling through the window.
I try to scream but my voice catches in the breaths I can’t fully take. She’s coming in head first, contorting her body in ways that aren’t humanly possible. She’s every Japanese horror movie wrapped up in one. I’m stuck in a nightmare. That’s the only logical explanation. And no one can help me, even if they were to hear my hopeless cries.
Like coming out of slow motion, everything seems to jump into double time to catch up with itself. The feeling rushes back to my extremities. I take advantage of it and kick wildly at Paul’s girlfriend before she slithers her way into the sanctity of our safe room. Even with all my strength behind it, I’m hardly fazing her. It’s barely enough to keep her from getting inside.
One of my frantic blows finally knocks her off balance. She tumbles backwards through the window and lands head first in the courtyard. The sound of crunching bones should be enough to slow her down.
Still unable to catch a breath, I scramble to my feet rather unceremoniously and stumble towards the window. My hand shoots straight for the latch but she’s already there, trying to climb back in. Her head sits crookedly atop her disfigured neck. I need to keep her out but I’m too scared to touch her.
One hand on the window, I search the desk behind me with the other, hoping for something to use as a weapon. My fingers glide over the glossy cover of a textbook. It’s not much but it’ll keep my skin from coming in contact with hers. It might take nothing more than a simple touch to spread the infection and I don’t want to risk it. I turn to grab the book with both hands, hoping I’ll have regained enough strength to do some damage. But in the split second I look away, her sopping hair brushes against my arm. She’s only inches from me.
I swing the thick hardcover at her face. The loud smack turns her head sideways, snapping her already broken neck in the other direction. The tip of her spinal cord shreds through the loose flesh. My hand shoots to my mouth and suddenly I’m wishing she hadn’t worn her hair in that beautiful braid today, leaving the gruesome view visible to the world.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, my eyes fixated on the bits of bone grinding against her throat. “I’m so sorry Jenny. I’m sorry.”
She stands there, momentarily stunned, her head twisted too far to the side for her to still be upright. The tangle of bones and hair is enough to make me glad I’ve already thrown up my breakfast. Every instinct tells me to run to her aid and see if she’s alright, like I accidentally hurt her in gym class, some big game of Capture the Flag gone horribly wrong.
The sound of her bones scraping against one another sends chills through my body. In painstakingly choppy movements, she slowly faces me again. Her head sits to the side, tilted upward atop her bent neck. Although I want to, I can’t apologize to Jenny. Jenny’s no longer with us. She’s been replaced by, this.
Her demented eyes meet mine.
I will never again sleep the night through.
The rainstorm washes away all traces of blood and for a split second I get a good look at her. The whites of her eyes have turned a horrendous shade of red. The irises that once glimmered a bright blue are an unnatural amber unlike anything the human eye should be capable of registering. A revolting substance drips from her flushed cheeks and hangs onto her chin before mixing with the pouring rain. Her gaze is beyond empty. It’s more than that, and less, all at the same time. Sometimes you can see love in a person’s eyes, sometimes hatred, sometimes indifference. This is like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s not just hunger, it’s desperation, a pleading that tells me it’s all over. I know she doesn’t want to kill me, she texted me last night about what movie we were all going to see this weekend. This isn’t the same girl. Her eyes don’t scream she’s going to kill me, they just say it’s already too late. This is inevitable.
I stare down my best friend’s girlfriend, trying to figure out how I can kill her before she kills me. Her hand goes for my throat without warning. I move just fast enough to avoid it, grab the handle of the window and pull it towards me with all the force I can find in my aching body. It slams shut on her arm but doesn’t stop her. I push it open forcefully and slam it again. This time it’s accompanied by a loud pop. The window shattered her elbow. She doesn’t stop. I thrust it open and pull it towards me again, just as hard as before. Then again, and again, and again.
She’s not alone. Behind her, another one, blood seeping from his mouth, is running towards us. I don’t know if he doesn’t see the cement bench or is too dumb to know he has to move around it, but he crashes, falling face first into a muddy bed of spring flowers.
More movement from the courtyard catches my eye but I don’t have time to look. Blood pours from the wound as I continue slamming the window on what remains of Jenny’s pulverized elbow. Suddenly it snaps shut, her arm inside, her body out. One last muscle spasm curls her fingers into a claw-like position before freezing there in a grotesque display of desperation.
I lock it the second it’s closed and take a giant step back. The room spins around me in a haze of dancing lights trying to come into focus. I need to see if Shane has Mr. Adams tied u
p but I’m too scared to move. My pants are soaked from the rain so I can’t be sure, but I think I might have wet myself.
Jenny continues banging on the window with one arm while the other kid gets to his feet and makes his way over. We’re done for if they realize they can pick up a rock and break the glass. Let’s just hope they don’t evolve, or worse yet, remember what they knew before the infection claimed their everyday existence.
They stop.
At almost exactly the same time, their empty eyes roll back into their heads. Their noses begin twitching. Someone’s out there. Someone who’s still alive. It’s the same thing Nurse Dickens did when she smelled a human that was still human.
Their heads dart upward, right above where I’m standing. Someone must have opened a window on the second floor. They both begin jumping. Their bodies slam against the glass, hands above their heads, reaching for the poor soul who dared whet their appetite. If they keep this up, they’ll be crashing through the window in a matter of seconds. Unlike the small opening on the door, they’ll actually be able to fit through.
A flash of color comes from nowhere, gone before it’s seen, followed by a gruesome splat. My eyes flinch involuntarily like when a bug hits your windshield.
Somebody jumped.
Jenny and her bloodthirsty companion are no longer thrashing against the window. I step forward until the body being devoured on the ground is visible. I can’t make out who it is, guy or girl, kid or adult, they’re tearing it apart so fast it’s nothing but a blur of blood.
I realize why I couldn’t tell Jenny had been infected when I first saw her. Her back is facing me, at least what’s left of it, she must have been attacked from behind. A few dangling pieces of skin flap over her exposed spinal column with every jerky movement she makes. Most of her baby blue tank top is missing, the rest hangs by a few frayed threads. I pray Paul isn’t seeing this right now.
Something catches my eye across the way. Someone else just threw themselves over the edge into the puddles below. They didn’t fall, they dove head first. They weren’t trying to escape. They were trying to die. For a moment, I wish I was on the second story too.
A girl sneaks out a window across the courtyard, clinging to the brick building, walking on a ledge that can’t be more than a few inches wide. Through the rain it’s hard to tell but I swear she can see me. By the way her shoulders are heaving I can tell she’s crying. It’s Felecia, the girl who laughed about my date with Caylee tonight. I actually feel sorry. I never thought I’d feel anything for her, not again, but the sight of her up there, crying, alone, it makes me sad. The most popular, yet, most hated girl in school and no one will save her. They’re all too busy dying.
I shake my head, choking back tears. It’s not her I’m crying for. I really couldn’t care less about Felecia, it’s the fact that everyone is giving up. They would rather die than fight or be infected themselves.
What’s Jenny thinking right now? Is she in there at all? Does she know what she’s doing but can’t convince herself to stop?
A tear slides down my cheek for what we’re becoming.
Felecia shakes her head and prepares to jump. The pouring rain beats down on her perfect skin for the last time.
The sounds around me come into focus. That mutilated monster is still trying to fit through the glass. Mr. Adams is crying while Shane wraps the flag around him, no clue what’s going on, he’s just scrubbing away at the blood on his arm. He’s rubbed so hard I’m pretty sure he scratched his own skin off.
Everyone else is in shock. They’re just sitting there, right where they were when I tackled them out of the way. I’ve been trying to save everyone in this room. But I can’t. I know now, they will all die. I need to save myself. I need to get out of here.
I look down at my trembling arms and see it. Blood. Jenny’s blood. It’s on my hands, my arms, my face. It must have splattered when her elbow ripped off. I look back at Mr. Adams, then outside to Felecia standing on the ledge, and I feel another tear roll down my bloodstained cheek. The infected blood is on me. Am I going to turn? How long do I have?
CHAPTER 5
My first instinct is to wipe the blood off, like Mr. Adams. Pretend it was never there. His pathetic whimpering has changed but I’m not sure if it’s because he’s changed or because he wants desperately to continue scrubbing his arm. I doubt the flag will do anything to hold him back if he turns. Do I bother having Shane tie me up next? Even if we were to go with such an asinine strategy, there’s nothing left to restrain me. And I’m their only hope.
“Dude, your face.”
Shane must have noticed the blood. Still, it’s nice to hear someone talking, the constant monotone groaning has been getting to me.
“I know, I know. I don’t know. Is that all it takes? Am I gonna turn?”
They should run. They should be coming up with a strategy or figuring out what to do with me if I am infected. But the large group in the middle of the room takes a step back as if that’ll be enough to save them from the flesh eating, blood drinking creature I’m going to become.
“See if you can find something to tie me up with.”
“Noah, have you lost your mind? We don’t even know if you’re gonna turn into one of them. I’m not tying you up!”
“Yes, you are. It’s that or let me kill you. Get out of here, while you still have a chance.”
“How?” I don’t think he meant to shout but he’s scared out of his mind.
I glance at Mr. Adams. His eyes have gone yellow and red. He’s turned. If it’s in my system, I don’t have much time. A few minutes, tops. What do you do with a couple minutes to live? I’d like to kiss Caylee, see if it’s everything I thought it would be. I want to tell my mom I love her and don’t blame her for cheating on Dad. I want to thank my friends for being there. Tell that douchebag Neil I’m sorry for breaking his old man’s record before he did, I didn’t mean to. Maybe sleep with Felecia, I don’t know, she’s a bitch but god is she hot, even clinging to the side of the building in the rain during some sort of zombie apocalypse. There, I said it. Zombie.
But there’s really only one thing I can do.
“Everybody off the floor. I’m getting you out of here. After that, it’s up to you.” When no one moves, I kick at the nearest kid. “Now! I don’t have much time. Everybody, up!”
They’re scared stiff but they stand, shaking, some of them crying as they watch what was once Mr. Adams try to wiggle his way out of the flag with menacing eyes locked on us. A few of them look to the courtyard at one-armed Jenny continuing to throw herself against the glass. I’d like to think she’s trying to get her arm back but I know what she’s after, and that’s not it.
My gaze shifts to the doorway, landing on the monster I might soon become. He tries to contort his mouth to reach me but he’s wedged too far through the crack in the door. Most of his flesh was ripped off by the shards of glass scraping his neck, leaving his Adam’s apple completely exposed. If I hadn’t already come in contact with their blood, there’d be no way I would touch him. But now, why not?
I grab onto what’s left of the creature’s repulsive head. Maybe I shouldn’t think of him that way, odds are I’ll be joining him shortly. We’ll call them living challenged.
Fumbling over blood and patches of dangling flesh, I lock on and pull as hard as I can. The glass digs further into his neck. I put my weight into it, lifting my legs, hanging above the puke and bloody brain matter that coats the floor some janitor wasted his evening cleaning. With one last tug, it disconnects.
I land hard on the slimy tiles but waste no time rolling away, narrowly avoiding the stream of blood cascading down the door. His decapitated head is in my hands. I toss it across the room and watch it roll a couple times before crashing into the leg of a desk. The other half of his body disappears from view on the other side of the door. Screams ricochet through the silent hallway, one of them may be my own.
I had to rip the damn thing’s head off jus
t to immobilize him. My skin crawls at the thought of it. I hope someone will do the same for me if I turn, I don’t want to be one of them. I don’t want to hurt the people I care about.
The halls are empty, at least for the moment. I take advantage of the calm in the storm and burst through the door. The headless corpse I created is crumpled in a heap on the other side. A pool of thick crimson liquid expands with every passing second, slowly blanketing the school, tile by tile.
The shifting of chairs rumbles overhead. Bloodcurdling cries fill the moist atmosphere. But this portion of the hall is clear. The nearest exit is only a few rooms down.
“Follow me, and don’t touch any blood! If I turn into one of them, kill me, then run!”
They all nod in unison but I can tell, if I do, they’re not going to kill me. They’ll get scared and take off.
“Do it.” I look directly at my three friends to solidify my stance on assisted suicide. “If I turn, put me out of my misery. I don’t care how, just kill me.”
I don’t wait for a response because I know they won’t be able to go through with it. We’ve been friends since, forever. Kristen was my first kiss, spin the bottle at Paul’s twelfth birthday party. Unfortunately, Shane was my second. Same game, same party. I carried Doug to the hospital when he broke his ankle in seventh grade. I told him not to try that jump on his 24 speed mountain bike but he insisted he could make it. I want to give them all a hug.
Instead, I turn and grab the nearest chair. I can feel their eyes on me but I don’t care to explain. I’m not exactly in the best of moods, turning into a zombie isn’t something I’m particularly looking forward to. I certainly don’t envy the friend who will hopefully have the guts, or the compassion, to kill me if the time comes. I’m not sure if I could do it either. In my limited experience, I haven’t seen a zombie close their eyes, but I hope I’ll be able to, I don’t want to see how they choose to end my life. I’d kill myself right now but something tells me I’d rise the second my body hits the ground. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve already been infected. Sadly, I think my fate is sealed.
Blood Type Infected (Book 1): No Future For Man Page 3