"Sarah...it's OK, we're here to help." His words did not lend any comfort to the girl, who rocked back and forth in the fetal position in the corner. Chris tried again. "I don't know what's going on, but we're going to get you out of here."
"Don't come near me! You're one of them!" Sarah's voice was shrill and panicked, although nobody could blame her.
"No we're not," Chris said, standing his ground with his hands at his sides, doing his best to appear non-threatening. "They attacked us, too. We...well, we fought them off. It's hard to believe, I know. But you've got to trust me - do I look like one of those things?"
Sarah continued to sniffle, but lifted her head cautiously to look at Chris. She shook her head without saying a word.
"You know I wouldn't hurt you," Chris said. "Come with us. We'll keep you safe."
"Nobody can keep me safe," she whimpered. "Nobody. Those things weren't human. Not anymore. We were just sitting here, learning about photography when they came in. We didn’t see them until it was too late. They killed everyone, Chris! How can you possible say you'll protect me from them?"
"Because they didn't kill everyone," Chris' voice quaked a bit. "And as fucked up as they are, we have something just a little bit weirder on our side."
"Yeah right," Sarah said, staring at her blood-soaked shoes. "What could be weirder than rotting corpses running wild?"
"Him," Chris said, gesturing towards Jeremy. Sarah looked up, then laughed derisively.
"He's weird, I'll give you that. But so what? Is he going to give them a computer virus?"
Jeremy's lip curled up defensively. He knew full well that everyone thought he wasn't quite normal, and that he'd rather spend time in front of a computer screen than with other people his age, but it wasn't often that they were abusive right to his face about it. Aside from Chris, he hadn't really thought that anyone had a bad opinion of him.
"If that's how you feel," Jeremy spat each word out slowly and deliberately, "I'll leave you to the zombies. I'm not going to waste my time convincing some airhead cheerleader that she'll be safer in a group than she will be crying in a closet. Stay here and rot with the rest of the meat."
Jeremy whirled, slipping slightly on the damp floor. The students who had gathered in front of the door parted for him, none quite wanting to actually see what would happen if they got in his way now that he was capable of doing...well, capable of doing whatever it was that he could do. He stormed down the hall towards the exit doors that lead to the school's classroom wing. He mentally reached out towards the doors, intending to shove them open. The force with which the blow was delivered against the doors was far greater than Jeremy had expected or desired; in the heat of the moment, he felt his control slip away from himself, and the doors were torn off their hinges and flung into the stairwell beyond. They impacted against the stairwell's support column, embedding themselves into the concrete with enough force that the floor shook. Jeremy never even broke stride as he walked into the stairwell. His foot brushed against the first step before he heard Chris calling out to him.
"Jeremy," he cried. "Come back here. Don't be like that - she didn't mean anything by it. She's freaked out - can you blame her? We have to stick together!"
The words stopped Jeremy dead in his tracks. He turned slowly to face Chris, who had ran from the graphics studio to only a few feet behind Jeremy. He took two slow, deliberate steps towards Chris; on any other day, trying to look menacing towards a bully of Chris' calibre was a sure way to invite a beating, but he seemed to be aided by the fact that he was suddenly able to command forces that could not be comprehended. With each step another handful of shrapnel rose out of his ammunition drum and orbited around Jeremy, forming a twinkling wall of metal. When he spoke, it was with the conviction of someone who had both the power and the will to never be a victim again.
"I've put up with your bullshit for years," he spat. "I've never done anything to you, but you attack, and you insult, and you humiliate me over and over again. I don't know why you do it - frankly, I don't care. If you and your little friend think it's funny to laugh at me, you go right ahead. And you can take your 'we need to stick together' routine and shove it up your ass. The only thing that kept you alive in the shop was me, and if there are more of those things hiding in the shadows around here, the only thing that'll keep you alive is my good will - and frankly, I don't have any left for you. Let me say this the simplest way that I can, since I know you've got problems with words that contain more than two syllables: go fuck yourself." Jeremy tried not to let his astonishment at hearing this outburst come out of his mouth show. In fact, once it was said, he wasn't quite sure what to do next. Chris stared at him, his mouth hanging wide open, trying to formulate a reply.
"You're right," was the unexpected response. "I'm a jerk. I always have been, and you've had to take a lot of abuse from me. That wasn't cool, and I won't make any excuses for it. And however it is that you're able to move stuff around without touching it, you're right that it's what's keeping us alive - you're what's kept us alive. But you've got to recognize that we've got a much better chance of making it out of here alive if we all stick together, and you shouldn't leave someone to die just because they insulted you. I mean, you have a reason to hate me, and I'd understand if you abandoned me...but she doesn't even know you. She just watched a lot of her friends die, and she doesn't know what to say or do...I don't think any of us do."
Is that genuine, real emotion coming from Chris Johnson? Jeremy wasn't quite sure how to react. Granted that the circumstances they found themselves in were overwhelming, he genuinely didn't expect to ever hear words to that effect coming from the mouth of his greatest tormentor. He gently guided his orbiting shrapnel back to the ammunition drum, letting them drop unceremoniously back into the container as he calmed himself. After all, he assured himself, it's better to remain rational about this than to act out of emotion. For all I know, this telekinetic ability may be a purely temporary phenomenon, and it would be good to have not alienated a potential ally if it suddenly stops working.
"Fine," he said to Chris. "I won't hold it against her. For now. Let's just...let's keep moving. I don't know about you, but I don't like being trapped in a slaughterhouse. We need to see if we can help anyone else out here."
"OK," Chris said, as the rest of their group gathered around the two boys. "So where should we go next? I mean, for all we know we were the last stop on their list, and the school could be completely deserted now - or worse, stuffed to the brim with those things. I say we make a break for it - get the hell out of here and find somewhere safe to hole up."
"No," Mr. Gorsky interjected. "We can't leave until we know that everyone is accounted for - no matter what's happened to them. We can't risk leaving someone to their fate at the hands of those things. They won't be as lucky as me." He held up his bandaged arm to emphasize his point.
The remaining students had expressed various degrees of agreement with both Mr. Gorsky and Chris as they spoke, but none were committed enough to do anything more than grumble quietly. Everyone looked at Jeremy; it was obvious that this choice was his to make, since he was their secret weapon.
"I've already said that I don't want to be trapped in a slaughterhouse," Jeremy muttered. "And it's probably a safe bet that we're the only ones left alive in the building. Still, that doesn't excuse us from abandoning our friends - and if anyone is still alive, it's our responsibility to make sure they stay that way. The courtyard isn't far from here - I say we start there, and see how things look." The courtyard was the school's main hub - a three-tiered classroom building with an open courtyard in the middle. Around each tier were multiple classrooms - the open design would make it easy to spot both survivors and any attackers, should there be more lurking somewhere unseen.
"It's settled then," Mr. Gorsky said with a deranged grin. "Keep it quiet, and get to the top floor. We'll start there and work our way down. You see anything moving that looks like it shouldn't be, and you kill it."
Although it seemed unnatural to hear his shop teacher talking so eagerly about causing physical harm to other people, the circumstances were exceptional. Thoughts of his family fluttered through Jeremy’s head - he wondered if they were trapped in similar circumstances, or if they’d already been claimed by the zombies, or even if they were blissfully unaware of what was happening in the school.
The group crept up the stairs and carefully into the hallway above. It lead to another staircase which could take them to the courtyard. Their progress was slow but steady; every last one of them was on edge. Although there were no immediate signs in the hallway or staircase of the slaughter that had been found in the lower level, the building was eerily quiet. Jeremy couldn't remember ever hearing so little noise in the entire time he'd attended the school. There was always something going on, from classes to breaks to extracurricular groups chatting away. None of that could be heard now. The only sounds were their ragged breaths, and the squeaking wheels of the ammunition drum that followed behind Jeremy.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the upper level of the courtyard unmolested. Their relief was short-lived as they considered the task that was before them. The nearest classroom door was only a few feet away, leading to one of the high school's two chemistry labs. Mr. Gorsky positioned himself to the side of the door, and gently pushed it open. The group waited breathlessly for any sound or movement from the room. When none came, Mr. Gorsky peered around the corner, then reached inside and slowly pulled the door shut again. He glanced towards the rest of the group and shook his head. The expression on his face told them all that they needed to know - no survivors. Wasting no time - indeed, being all too painfully aware of the possible consequences for such hesitation - to grieve for their fallen friends, they crept up to the second classroom door - this one housing the school's only biology lab. Faint shuffling sounds could be heard from the other side of the door, and everyone immediately sprang into action, assuming defensive stances. Several dozen small pieces of metal rose up out of Jeremy's ammunition drum, ready to strike as soon as the door opened. Mr. Gorsky took one last look at his students to ensure that they were ready, and carefully reached up to the door's handle. He never had the chance to make contact with the handle, however, as the door splintered into a thousand pieces; what was left of a zombie flew through the debris, propelled by an unseen force; it smashed into the concrete ledge of the courtyard with enough force to shattered the concrete, carrying both chunks of the ledge and the zombie down to the floor of the courtyard below. Almost immediately thereafter, a loud crashing sound could be heard from the room. Jeremy stepped forward and peered inside, emboldened by the thought that whoever propelled that zombie from the room was obviously wielding the same sort of abilities as him; inside the room he saw a single girl standing over a prone zombie. The slim, tall girl wore modest clothing - a generic sweatshirt and jeans that didn’t cling to whatever curves might have been hidden underneath - and her arms were outstretched over her head, holding one of the lab's stainless steel dissection tables in the air. She brought this down on the zombie's head with yet another deafening crash that utterly destroyed the creature's skull. Jeremy stood in awe - he knew that those benches weighed well into the hundreds of pounds each, and the girl had wielded it as if it were no heavier than a baseball bat.
The girl finally took notice of her admirer, and jumped back in surprise. The shock quickly gave way to a wide smile as the pair recognized each other.
"Tanya?" Jeremy was surprised. He wasn't great friends with her, but knew her well enough to have assumed that she would not have been able to defend herself.
"Jeremy?" The surprise in Tanya's voice was just as apparent as it had been in his. She was clearly as bewildered and disoriented as everyone else.
"You...that table," Jeremy stuttered.
"Yes," Tanya said with a shy smile. "I don't know how, but for the last few days, I've been getting stronger. Really strong. Good timing, too. I didn’t think I’d be left behind when Armageddon happened, but at least I can unleash the fury of the righteous upon the demons!"
"I know what you mean," Jeremy said. He flourished his hand in the direction of one of the lab stools, mentally lifting it into the air. Tanya did not seem as shocked to see it happen as his other classmates had. “Although I don’t think it’s Armageddon.”
"I guess I'm not the only one granted amazing powers by the Lord," she said. She sounded relieved, and Jeremy was not surprised. Tanya was a shy, meek girl, and if she had become as strong as she appeared so quickly, he knew that she must have been very shocked. “And if this isn’t Armageddon, what is it? The dead are walking the Earth, feasting upon our flesh and blood, and seeking our destruction.”
"I can’t explain it, either. And no, you’re not the only one who has suddenly developed amazing powers," he said. "I mean, I'm not strong or anything, but I can definitely do things that don't really make any sense to me. What happened to everyone else up here?"
Tanya shrugged. "We were in the middle of an English class when some of these things," she gestured to the zombie's remains, "forced their way inside. They...they killed everyone. I was on the other side of the room, and managed to make it out the fire exit." Her eyes teared up as she spoke. "I came up here to hide, and locked the doors. There was nobody in here...I just kept quiet, and hoped this would all go away. It did, too, until about five minutes ago. They came in through there." She pointed at the side door of the lab, which connected it to another classroom.
"So you haven't seen any other survivors?"
"Nobody," she whispered. Tears welled up in her eyes. "I heard them die, Jeremy. Those...those things killed them. I've never heard screams like that before. We need to get out of here."
A startled shout from outside the lab seemed to confirm this claim. Jeremy dashed out the door with Tanya following close on his heels. He almost immediately regretted doing so, as he saw dozens of walking corpses shambling towards their group from both sides of the courtyard. They swarmed out of classrooms on all three tiers of the open courtyard. Jeremy lost count of how many zombies were filling the entire courtyard. Dozens, possibly hundreds of them could be seen, and judging by the casual dress and fresh bloodstains covering many of them, it seemed likely that their former classmates were part of the horde.
"Where did they all come from?" Jeremy wasn't entirely certain if his question was rhetorical or not.
"I don't know," Adam replied, trying and failing to mask the fear in his voice. "You were in there, and then they just...swarmed. What do we do?"
“Duck,” Jeremy said. Without hesitation, all the males in the group dropped prone. Tanya was confused at the display, but followed suit shortly after them.
The entire mass of shrapnel in Jeremy's drum lifted into the air. He grinned maniacally. Without budging a muscle, he mentally hurled handful after handful of shrapnel at the charging horde. He tried not to reflect on the numbing cold that spread through his body with every volley, or the exhaustion that robbed him of the strength to move. Time slowed nearly to a standstill as he fired off more and more of his rapidly dwindling supply of ammunition. With every volley, more of the attacking creatures fell to the ground. His classmates and Mr. Gorsky carefully rose to a crouch and surrounded Jeremy and Tanya, forming a low defensive wall against the apparently endless number of undead. When Jeremy fired his last volley of ammunition, his eyes rolled into the top of his head and he collapsed in an unconscious heap. Chris and Adam picked him up, each stringing an arm over their shoulders, and Tanya plucked Adam's length of pipe from his hands. Although the floors were stacked with corpses of the undead army, still more approached them from the north side of the courtyard. Mr. Gorsky charged towards the south stairwell, motioning for everyone to follow him. Tanya took up the rear, holding her new weapon at the ready. By the time they reached the stairs, the shambling zombies had reached the group. Tanya swung her pipe like a baseball bat, striking the nearest zombie with the
force of a truck slamming into a wall. Bones cracked and the creature fell to the ground.
The group moved down the stairs as quickly as they could, encumbered by an unconscious Jeremy and wary of the creatures hot on their trail. With every downward step, Tanya swung upwards at the zombies. She was obviously not accustomed to wielding a weapon, and several of her swings hit nothing but air, slamming into the concrete walls at the end of the swing. The concrete cracked and buckled, sending small clouds of debris and dust into the air, obscuring their vision and doing absolutely nothing to help the group descend towards the ground floor. Although Tanya succeeded in destroying nearly a dozen zombies by the time they reached the ground floor of the courtyard, the dust that she had thrown into the air with her missed blows clouded everyone's eyes; Mr. Gorsky and the students at the front of the group were rubbing their eyes madly, trying to clear their vision. Had it not been for this, the hapless forerunners of the group would have been more likely to notice zombies were not only approaching from the stairs above them, but also were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairwell. Mr. Gorsky stumbled headlong into their waiting arms, and was quickly torn to shreds by the ravenous creatures. His screams came too late for the students immediately behind him, too - they were caught in the grasping, grappling arms of the undead. Hearing the screams of the dying and wounded, Tanya took one last desperate swing at the creatures closing in from the stairs above them, then leaped around the group and into the middle of the zombies at the bottom of the stairwell. She closed her eyes tight and swung her length of pipe in large, windmilling circles; the blows rained down upon the zombies with terrific force, and considerably more effect than she had on those on the stairs.
The Dead Rise Page 4