I slung my spear onto my shoulder and kept my rifle ready. “Let’s make this quick.”
We walked toward the dorms where Bill had headed. We took slow steps, constantly scanning our full three-sixty, though I knew Clutch had our six covered. While I wanted to get the hell out of there, I didn’t rush. Just because Bill had run in half-cocked didn’t mean that we had to put ourselves at risk.
A zed without legs reached out like a beggar. I stepped to the side, and it tried to drag itself to us. I didn’t waste energy killing it; it was in such bad shape that the only way it could latch onto a victim was if someone fell on it.
The ominous feeling in my gut grew worse as we approached the first dorm. The doors were propped wide open by a mangled corpse. Bones, tufts of hair, and cloth shreds were about all that remained.
Jase and I eyed each other. With a deep inhalation, he stepped inside first. Glass crunched under my boots as I stepped around the corpse. We walked as carefully and quietly as we could, pausing to listen after every few steps.
Something fell on the floor in a nearby room. I swung my rifle around.
We moved as one toward the open door. I listened for any other sounds, but could only hear movement in the one room. When we reached the door, I twisted around and aimed. I lowered my weapon with a sigh. “Jesus, Bill. I nearly blew your head off.”
He continued to rifle through papers on the table. “They’re not here. I don’t understand it. There’s no note.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before he looked up and over his shoulder. “They must still be in the student center.”
“Hold up,” I said, reaching for him. That no one had cleaned up the body in the building they lived was a serious red flag. “They probably had to run and didn’t get a chance to get back here to leave a note.”
“Bill, hold on, man,” Jase echoed.
He pushed open the door. “It’s lunchtime. Everyone eats at the student center.” He headed outside.
“He’s a real pain in the ass,” I muttered, not caring if Bill heard me or not.
“The idea of ditching him and heading back is getting pretty appealing,” Jase added.
I glanced at my watch. Six minutes to go. I sucked in a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”
We followed Bill as he jogged down a sidewalk and up to a brick building with large glass windows.
“Hold up,” I said and grabbed his arm before he opened the door.
He yanked out of my grip. “Everyone will be inside. It’s okay.”
“Look,” Jase said and pointed.
“What?” Bill asked, and then he frowned. He cupped his hands against the glass and squinted. He let out a gasp. “No.”
Inside, the student center was a mess. Tables were overturned, chairs were scattered. There was nobody eating lunch. There was nobody, period.
“They must’ve run,” I said hopefully.
Bill grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. As he ran inside, I lowered my head and shook it slowly. After taking a deep breath, I followed, staying protectively at Jase’s side.
There were no zeds, not even any bodies littering the floors. The ominous feeling in my gut had morphed into fear.
Bill was doing a three-sixty, looking around. “Katie!” he called out. “Jan!”
“Sh,” I hissed. “Keep it down.”
A thump came from somewhere off to my left, confirming my suspicion. There were zeds still around here, all right.
A smile broke out on Bill’s face, and the tension fell from his shoulders. “Oh, they’re in the theater. Thank God.”
“Don’t,” I warned.
Bill turned back to us. “It’s all right. The theater is our emergency shelter. They’ve probably been staying in there until someone came to give them the all-clear.”
“Then why is there a steel pipe through the door?” Jase asked, but Bill either didn’t hear or didn’t care because he rushed across the open space and to that exact door.
“I don’t like this,” I said, slowly walking toward Bill.
“I think we should get out of here,” Jase said.