100 Days in Deadland

I’d be in a fishbowl the moment I dropped.

Like the principal’s office, the fourth wall had a nice wide window overlooking the school parking lot. I could make out only one zed, and it was trapped inside a car. Maybe the zeds who’d escaped the Home Depot had followed Clutch’s truck when he left with Jase.

God, I hated maybes.

Unless the window was heavily tinted, the sun had nearly set, which meant I’d been crawling around this place for at least eight hours. I wasn’t the least bit surprised, not with how exhausted and thirsty I was. I even wondered if I’d be able to stand once I got out of this duct. My stomach had quit growling hours ago. My throat was parched, and my clothes were soaked.

I pulled my head back in, and shimmied forward over the opening so that I could back up and drop feet first into the room. I would’ve preferred to go head first to see around, but the opening was too tight, and there would be nothing to grab onto to keep me from breaking my neck from the drop.

After sliding the machete back into my belt, I squeezed through as quietly and motionlessly as I could to not draw attention. About halfway through, I heard a pounding on the glass. I shoved myself through the rest of the way, and I finally popped through, dropping onto the floor.

The moment I landed, every zed, including the principal, clambered to get to me. Putting a foot on the dead zed’s chest, I grabbed the axe handle and yanked it free. I ran to the window, swung the axe, and the glass shattered apart. The hallway door behind me cracked. I saw a handbag under the desk. I grabbed it and jumped on the desk and through the window.

I had no time to barricade the window, and I started running through the parking lot. Clutch’s truck was long gone, which I’d expected. They would’ve been idiots to wait around to get overtaken by zeds for the slightest chance that I’d survived.

Three zeds came out from around a minivan in front of me. I stopped, dropped the purse, and pulled out my Glock. Three shots. Three went down.

Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I ran to the car where I’d seen the zeds and ducked behind the trunk. I dumped out the contents of the large purple purse, and sifted through the pile of crap that had tumbled out until I found the one thing I needed. Coming up on a knee, I held up the car key, and hit the unlock button. Lights flashed and chirped on a car parked near the front door.

Five zeds had already emerged through the broken glass window. It wouldn’t take long for the parking lot to be flooded. With the Glock in one hand, the key ring dangling off my pinky, and the axe in another, I ran toward the car.

The zeds staggered toward me, but I was faster. With a cursory look through the car’s windows, I yanked open the car door and climbed inside.

Dropping the axe on the passenger seat and the gun on my lap, I slid the key into the ignition. The engine started with pop music blaring from the speakers, and I shoved the gear into reverse. The car barreled over the zeds coming around behind and struggled as it dragged itself over the bodies.

I needed a tank. I got a fucking Prius.

Zeds stumbled at the car, and I swung the car around, shifted gears, and peeled out. I took off my helmet and threw it onto the seat next to me and turned off the CD player before picking up speed. I barreled right down Main Street, taking out another four zeds on my way through. The Prius was no truck and one of the zeds clung onto the hood for several blocks before I finally managed to throw him off.

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