I held up my hand. “No. Then you’ll be stuck down here. Go for the truck.”
Glass shattered, and I jerked around to find a teacher stepping through the now-broken window. I pulled out my new machete. “Get Jase to the truck. I’ll catch up.”
“We’re not leaving,” Clutch yelled back.
I swung the machete, nearly decapitating a teacher with its hands and forearms covered with little bites. “Go. Hurry!” I wasn’t used to the blade, so my aim was off. The second swing killed it. Small zeds tumbled out of the window. A gunshot rang out. A boy in jeans and a sports jersey dropped. Another shot. A girl with pigtails dropped. Several more shots and the rest of the zed kids dropped. The ones still held inside were pounding harder on the glass now, in a frenzy to get out.
I looked up at Clutch to find him reloading. “The shots will draw more zeds to the school,” I yelled up. “Take Jase and get to the truck before the parking lot fills up.”
“No,” Clutch replied.
I watched him. More glass behind me shattered. “I won’t let you die for me.” After a quick glance at the newcomers, I went for the only door that I knew would be unlocked.
“Cash!”
I pushed open the glass door with my left hand, and swung the machete at the first zed with my right. The kid went right down. The hallway was not nearly as congested as the classrooms, which I noticed nearly all had their doors closed.
I jogged down the hallway, shoving zed kids out of my way, thankful for the thick gloves and jacket I’d worn. A zed could bite through it eventually, but at least it’d have to work at it.
I turned the corner into the main hallway and froze. A couple dozen three-and four-foot tall zeds with three adult zeds turned to face me. One growled, and the groans began. They lurched forward.
I spun around to backtrack, but the hall had filled in behind me as well, with a zed wearing a tag reading HALL MONITOR leading the group. I lunged for the double door to my left and jumped inside. After making sure the door was shut tight, I spun on my heel.
“Fuck me.”
I’d found the school cafeteria. Food trays were scattered across the floors. The buffet line had been ravaged. Several bodies, with most of their skin and muscle gone, were sprawled on the floor, covered in writhing maggots. And now, the large room was full of food-stained, bloodied zeds, and every single one of the bastards were focused on me.
They staggered toward me with outreached arms, and I jumped up onto a table, then onto the next table, sliding through spaghetti sauce that I knew wasn’t really spaghetti sauce.
I slid the machete in my belt and leapt, grabbing the fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling. Surprisingly, it held. Miraculously, my adrenaline helped me pull myself up, safely out of reach of the small arms. But larger arms connected to zeds in lunch lady uniforms reached perilously close.
“I’m not going to die,” I muttered and punched up at the ceiling. The white panel moved, and I realized this was one of those drop-down ceilings that allowed space for wiring and cables.
Gripping the metal frame, I swung and kicked up, knocking out another white panel, catching my foot on the frame. Using the strength of my legs, I was able to pull myself up and above the frame.
A sea of jaundiced dead faces looked up at me, growling, reaching, and chomping. I moved carefully and slowly onto the next frame, careful to distribute my weight over two rows of metal framing. I had no idea how much weight these ceilings were meant to hold, but they sure as hell couldn’t have been built for human travel.