“The kids,” Violet interrupted. “I saw some kids riding bikes the other day when I came outside. They must be here, too!”
“Kids? On their own?”
Violet was only half-listening, counting the bikes. “There were more than this.”
“Maybe they’re somewhere else?”
“Maybe.” She didn’t think they were.
There were voices coming from a door to their left, the one that led to the dark warehouse. They were kid’s voices, but not happy ones. They were screaming, crying out in fear and pain. She made to run for the door, but Sam pulled her back.
“We need to help them,” she argued, fighting against him. The screaming got louder, closer.
“It’s too late!” Sam kept hold of her, stronger than she was.
The doors burst open and three young boys ran out, each bloodied. They grabbed their bikes and climbed on. The first two peddled away quickly, but one paused.
“Get out,” he ordered before following his friends. Sam and Violet didn’t need to be told twice, turning tail and sprinting in the same direction. Violet heard the warehouse door open, and the screaming from inside got louder.
There are still kids down there.
She didn’t let herself look back. Sam shouted to Matt and the others, telling them to run. Violet couldn’t see where they were.
As Sam and Violet rounded the corner toward the front of the store, they saw Joe. His eyes widened as he caught sight of whatever was behind them, making Violet even more secure in her decision not to turn around. He shouldered his bag, sprinting toward the exit.
Matt was waiting by the smashed glass, Tom already outside. The kids were long gone. Violet ran until her legs felt like they were on fire, over the broken glass and out. Now that they were back together, they charged toward the alleyway that led to the parking lot. Tom was out in front, then Sam, Joe, Matt, and Violet at the back.
But Violet made her first mistake—looking over her shoulder. She couldn’t see the biters yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t close. Unfortunately, trying to do two things at once, like running and using her eyes, had never been her strength. She glanced back to see where she was going just in time to watch the ground fly out from underneath her. She hit the concrete with a thud. There was no opportunity to register the pain in her hands and knees, because she could hear them coming now. She scrambled to her feet, stumbling for the alleyway. Her friends were already disappearing down it, but she was too late. Her few seconds on the ground had given a zombie in a tuxedo the chance to cut her off. He shrieked, running toward Violet with his hands outstretched. She managed to dodge his crumbling fingers, but then made her second error—turning and going a different way.
It was a stupid mistake. She had enough time to follow Matt and the others, but she panicked. Still, it was too late now. She was pretty sure she knew another way to the parking lot, so even though she could hear Matt calling her name, she kept going. She reached another alley, one she knew would take her where she needed to go. But it was barricaded with half a dozen garbage cans and bits of scrap metal.
“Oh, come on.” She glanced back to see more biters heading her way. There was a row of stores to her left, so she darted toward them. Three had their shutters down, no way of getting in, but the forth didn’t. As she approached, she could see movement inside, and realized with excitement that the door was ajar. She had just reached the store and was wrapping her fingers around the handle, when she discovered the people inside were neither friendly nor alive. The two biters hissed, baring their bloodied teeth and throwing themselves against the glass door, forcing it shut.
She continued past the stores, not sure how much longer she could run, but knowing the alternative meant getting eaten alive. There was a narrow gap between two buildings, which at least provided a place to hide while she fought to catch her breath. She tried to think about where she could go, but was too exhausted to even know where she was right now.
“Hey!”
Violet raised her head, but there was no one around. Still, it had definitely been a voice.
“Go to the bike store!”
Violet knew where it was—just around the corner. She slipped back out onto the street, spotting six biters only a few yards away. She could probably outrun them, but she’d have to go now, before they saw her.
Too late.
Violet groaned as they began to run in her direction, screeching as they did so. She charged toward the bike store, and could see the shutter was raised a little off the ground. It was barely enough for her to fit under. Hurriedly, she took off her backpack, lay down on her stomach, and tried to ease herself under the tiny gap. She could hear the biters now. Her head and arms were inside, but the shutter was hard against her back. She was starting to worry she wouldn’t fit. Suddenly, there was someone grabbing her arms, pulling her into the darkness of the store.
Then there were hands on her legs, too, trying to pull her back out.
“No!” she yelled, as if it were going to make any difference to a zombie. She continued to wriggle, kicking free of their grabbing hands. It worked. Finally, she was inside.
Violet got up on her hands and knees, no energy left to stand, and crawled away from the shutter. She could see the faces of two dead women, as they tried to follow her under the gap. A figure stepped between the nearest biter and Violet, then smashed the creature’s head to pieces with a hammer. Seconds later, her hammer-wielding savior cracked open the skull of the second zombie, kicked the corpses back under the shutter, and forced it closed.
Violet collapsed, and everything went black.
Violet woke slowly, her eyes adjusting to the semi darkness.
Oh no, please don’t let me have killed anyone else. This zombie thing is making it hard to make new friends.
Cautiously, she took in her surroundings. There was a boy sitting not far from her. He was young, probably about eight or nine. He had white-blond hair that was splattered with blood, and a scratched and bruised face. He hadn’t been half-eaten, which was a happy change of pace. He stared at Violet for a moment. Neither said anything. She gave herself a moment to take in her surroundings. The room was large and dark, with only a few slivers of light coming in through gaps in the barricaded windows. They’d been covered up with flattened cardboard boxes, stuck together roughly with tape. There were bikes on stands nailed to the walls, and many more shoved into a corner of the room to free some space. Just behind the boy was a large pile of blankets and pillows, as though a lot of people had been sleeping in the same space. There were also some comic books, empty packets of potato chips, candy bars, and other telltale signs of children living in a small place.
Finally, Violet broke the silence. “How long was I out?”
“Only a few minutes.”
She nodded.
“Were you bitten?” The boy held the bloodied hammer tightly. Violet shook her head, praying he wouldn’t want to check. Her scar may have been old, but it was clearly bite-shaped.
“Were you?” she asked.
Pausing, he shook his head. He moved to a table by the wall, picked up a bottle of water, and threw it toward her. Violet picked it up off the floor after missing possibly the easiest catch ever, and gulped down huge mouthfuls.
“Drink it slowly,” the boy instructed. “You don’t want to be sick.”
She did as she was told, then put the bottle down. She was already feeling a little better, but still not ready to stand up yet. She realized for the first time that the boy was alone.
“The other two…” she began. He shook his head. Violet looked down. She supposed they had turned, or maybe been jumped on the way back to the store. Either way, they were dead.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
The boy paused, as if unsure whether he wanted to answer. “Toby.”
“I’m Violet. Thank you for the water. And for saving my life. I probably should’ve said that first actually.”
He shrugged, fi
ddling with some little screws on the table beside him. Violet pressed on. “How old are you?”
“Nine.”
“And your friends? They’re the same age?”
“They were. They’re dead now. All of them.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged again. Violet got to her feet slowly, surveying the dark store.
“Have you been living here this whole time?” she asked.
“We were all at Noah’s house for his birthday sleepover. His mom was sick and went to bed early. In the morning, she tried to kill us. We ran away.”
“And came here?”
He shook his head. “No, first we went to the woods. We have a secret camp. We stayed there for a while, but then we came back into town. The monsters chased us, and we hid here. We could fit under the gap.”
Violet was impressed. A group of kids had managed to survive for so long, yet she had lasted less than a few hours before being bitten.
“How did you manage to stay alive?”
Toby shrugged. “We tried to stay out of sight. The monsters follow sound, so we kept quiet. The bikes are fast, but don’t make noise like a car. We got food every couple of days and came back here. Most of the time, they didn’t even see us. They’re stupid. You can stay away from them easily as long as you’re clever. It’s not too hard.”
All right, kid, I get the picture.
Toby’s eyes flicked to the floor. Violet knew he was thinking the same thing she was—what would he do now since his friends were dead?
“Do you want to come back with me? We’re living in the school.”
“I know,” he replied. “We see you sometimes. Your group, I mean. We see you standing by the gate. The other day we saw you let in the bad men.”
“The bad men?”
“The men who trashed the supermarket. The ones who set the fires. We saw them kill a man and a woman and steal their food. They’re worse than the monsters.” He grabbed a towel, then wiped at the dried blood on his hands. “I don’t want to come back with you. I’m safer here.”
Violet hated leaving Toby behind, but she knew he was right. He was better off in the store, away from John and the others. A big part of her wanted to stay with him—she knew he would’ve let her—but she had to go. She couldn’t leave her friends.
She hugged Toby goodbye, an action she wasn’t altogether sure he enjoyed due to the strong smell of tuna that still lingered on her clothes, and then he opened the shutter enough for her to slip under. Violet held her knife tightly in her sweaty hand, tiptoeing out into the street. She still wasn’t exactly confident in using it, but she figured that as long as she didn’t slip over and stab herself, she’d be okay. Luckily, she didn’t have to use it yet. The biters had left the outside of the store, and all that remained were the corpses that had their heads caved in by Toby’s hammer.
Violet glanced from left to right, the gentle wind blowing her hair across her forehead. The backpack was where she’d dropped it, so she put it back on. Slowly, eyes and ears alert for the dead, she made her way back around to the main road. When she got to the front of the store, she heard the rumble of an engine. She instinctively hid behind a burned-out car at the side of the road. If the people driving it were anything like John, she didn’t want them to see her. She saw the vehicle approach. It was a battered Ford with scratched white paintwork. The windows were down, and she chanced a look at the people inside.
“Sam!” Violet jumped up, recognizing the driver immediately. The car stopped, and Sam grinned.
“We were starting to get worried,” he said.
Matt swung open the door and got out, hugging her tightly. Violet allowed herself to relax for the first time in hours, finally feeling safe, happy, and like nothing could destroy that perfect moment.
“Violet, you stink.”
Joe had gotten out of the car and was standing beside Matt, regarding her with eyebrows raised. Matt stepped back a little, as if smelling her for the first time.
“It’s fish,” she muttered. “I spilled fish juice on myself, okay?”
Matt smiled, looking her up and down. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Besides the smell?”
“Besides the smell.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
“We should get back,” Joe said. “I don’t like leaving the others for so long, and your stench is making me feel sick.”
“Always the charmer,” Violet drawled, rolling her eyes and getting into the car. Matt sat beside her, clearly caring less than the others about her smell.
Is he breathing through his mouth?
That doesn’t matter. The point is he’s being nice.
“Are you guys okay? Violet asked, surveying her friends. None of them appeared any worse for wear. Joe nodded from the passenger seat.
“No problems at all,” he said breezily.
Tom scoffed from his place beside Matt.
“What?” Joe asked.
“You forgot me,” Tom spat. “You literally got into the car and started driving.”
“It was an accident,” Sam replied airily.
“It was only for a second,” Joe added. “Then we realized.”
“You only remembered me because I threw that rock at the car.”
Joe waved his hand. “The point is, we came back.”
The car pulled away, and Violet glanced over at the front of the bike store. She could see Toby in one of the second-floor windows. He watched her nervously, as though he thought she would soon be dead.
Violet didn’t blame him. She was halfway there already.
Oh crap. Oh crap. This is bad.
Calm down. It could be worse.
But as Violet stood over the corpse, the taste of his blood still fresh in her mouth, she wasn’t exactly sure how it could be any worse than this.
It had all happened an hour ago. She was heading toward the library to pick up another load of dirty laundry, wondering bitterly how the men managed to go through so many clothes, when she’d heard a voice.
“So how’s your day going?”
Matt was standing by the fire exit, smiling at her. The door was propped open slightly behind him. She could see the rain falling heavily outside. It had been raining all day, and it showed no sign of letting up. He was soaked to the skin, and water fell in heavy drops from his clothes onto the floor.
“It’s going great,” she replied sarcastically. “Just about to get another load of dirty socks and underwear to wash by hand in cold water. How’s yours?”
Matt laughed. “It’s fantastic. I’m just letting myself dry off a little before I head back out into the rain. I like to really feel how drenched I’m getting. The wind is super helpful, too.”
Violet felt a smile creep across her face. Even though they were both miserable, Matt knew just how to cheer her up.
“I’m sorry you have to be outside,” she said.
“I’m sorry you have to wash their boxers.”
“It’s worse than that.”
Matt’s eyes widened. “Oh no, not—”
Violet cringed. “Yeah. Briefs.”
“That’s so much worse.”
“I know.” Violet sighed, leaning against the wall. “Do you see any end to this?”
Matt moved a little closer. “I honestly do. We just have to be patient. I think Sam is putting something together. It’s just hard to plan since they started putting one of their guys in the room with us at night. But don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” He put a hand on Violet’s shoulder. It felt comforting, yet she was suddenly aware of how close they were, of how heavy his hand felt. Matt was gazing at her intently, as though he were about to say something else.
Then she smelled it—it was faint, but it was there. Blood.
Violet instinctively backed away from his touch, feeling her stomach start to churn. “You’re cut.”
Matt looked surprised, then lifted his sleeve to show a thin scratch on his arm.
“I
caught it on some branches when I was walking the perimeter, just wasn’t paying attention,” he explained. “It’s small; doesn’t even hurt really.”
The rain and his wet clothes had hidden the smell before, but now it was coming through so strongly that Violet had to force herself to take another step back. She shook her head, trying to focus on something, anything else. Her thoughts were getting harder to control, and things around her seemed to be taking on a soft edge.
“You should go,” she stammered.
Matt glanced back at the door. It was still pouring. “Yeah, I will. I just thought while it was raining this hard, I might—”
“You should go, go back outside. We shouldn’t be here together.” Violet closed her eyes, trying to get everything to stop spinning.
Matt cleared his throat, stepping back. “Yeah, yeah, okay. It was good to see you, anyway.” She heard him push the door a little wider, then it clicked shut behind him. Violet opened her eyes, exhaling loudly. That had been way too close. Where Matt had been standing was a small puddle of rainwater—the only evidence he’d been there. She suddenly felt guilty, worried she’d hurt his feelings.
Better his feelings hurt than his arm chewed off.
Violet took another breath as the spinning in her head subsided, heading into the library.
“Hello, there.”
Daniel was sitting at one of the tables. He watched Violet enter the same way a cat observes a mouse. He didn’t move, but his eyes never left her. She didn’t know much about him; only that he seemed to spend most of his time reading or touching himself. She’d been lucky enough to walk in on him doing both. Thankfully, he’d been too absorbed in each activity to notice.
“Hi,” Violet replied, reaching down to pick up the clothes the men had so helpfully left on the floor.
“Coming to get the laundry?”
Nope, just browsing.
“That’s right,” she replied.
Daniel got to his feet. “Which one are you again? Sarah?”
“Violet.”
“Close enough.”
Literally not one letter the same, but sure.
Alive? Page 12