Class of 2013 - 5

Chapter Five

James had been at something of a loss when he first left the classroom. He knew that he needed to be a distraction, but just how exactly was he going to do that? Well, how was he going to do that and not get eaten, anyway – that was the real question. There were all kinds of ways to be a distraction, but most of them involved becoming a snack, and not really distracting that many of the living dead that were filling up the school grounds. Taking a moment to think, he tried to think of the layout of the school and all the possible places that he could get to that would keep him out of the reach of the zombie hordes. Abruptly he wondered why he hadn’t just gotten on the roof himself and gone around out of their reach the entire time.

Being as stubborn as he was though, he wasn’t about to go back into the room and admit that he’d rather just be on top of the roofs and distract them. He had his pride, even if that meant he was about to put himself in a situation that was entirely more dangerous than it really needed to be. But then, he had that whole thing about personal pride and overcoming adverse situations with one’s own skill. It was the pride and honor of a fighter at work, he would always say. I had always personally thought it was more about testosterone and not wanting to admit that you were wrong or that there was a better way than what you had initially gone with, but whatever. Call it what you would, it had the same effect. It usually meant that you went and did something incredibly stupid despite knowing that there was a better, or at least less risky, foolish, and painful, way of doing things.

Try convincing James of that.

Armed only with his trusty slicer, he knew that he would be able to survive all of this… somehow. He also soon had a plan that he deemed good enough to keep his flesh on his bones, and quickly went to enact said plan. Heading left and around a corner, he was about to start causing a fuss, but abruptly came to a flailing halt. He’d nearly slammed into a zombie coming around that corner, but soon the slicer was up and ready to splatter skull, brain and blood over the walls. The only thing was… the zombie wasn’t really moving. It was just kind of standing there, and even though James was right in front of it, it didn’t seem all that interested in his presence. That made him pause for a moment.

“What, am I not even good enough for a zombie chick? Really? Fuck, man…” Yes, that was his actual thought too – because yes, the zombie in question had actually been female during her life. Cute girl still, save for the bite out of her arm, the sick looking skin, and the cataracts in her eyes. Okay, so maybe cute wasn’t the right word, or attractive, but it was easy to tell that she had been while she was alive. That, or maybe it was just a male thing to assess other creatures, especially if they were humanoid, in regards to their attractiveness.

…Okay, so maybe it really was just that latter. What does anyone really expect from a guy? We’re not perfect, and we’re not gonna try and be something we’re not. If you don’t like us how we are, maybe you shouldn’t be with a guy. That, or since most girls do end up married to some guy that’s kind of nerdy at some point in their lives, if they ever get married, then maybe they should just get with the nerds in high school instead of the assholes and the jocks – and yes the distinction must be made since being one does not necessarily mean they’re both (though it does seem to play into it) – and just skip the middle man that they won’t be happy with anyway. Of course, that’s just a suggestion for their happiness and ours.

James’ mind did soon kick over to actually analyzing the zombie as a zombie, however, and he began to think about the implications of one that had cataracts on their eyes. That meant that they would be blind – assuming zombies would have been able to see in the first place. That had never made much sense to me since the eyes were usually something that degraded pretty quickly after death, so unless they were in some capacity alive and had some sort of ability to heal, they should go blind pretty quickly. It was just a theory, but it was one that made sense. Either way though, the cataracts definitely meant that they were blind, or at least partially blind, and that explained why this one wasn’t attacking him. So how did they know to attack?

He thought back then over the things that he had witnessed that day, and especially to Molly and the megaphone she’d been able to use on them as a stun weapon. Then it clicked. Could it really be so simple as that? Was it so easy an explanation? He thought for a moment and then finally held his arm out and snapped his fingers once. Immediately the zombie’s head turned, and he knew the answer to his query. They worked by using sound! He couldn’t believe it for a moment, so he moved quietly and snapped his fingers once more, causing her head to turn in the direction of the sound. Sure enough, it was true.

“Holy shit… they’re so smart… because they’re so stupid…” He grinned to himself at the reference, and slowly raised up the slicer before speaking softly. “Thanks for the info, cutie.” He grinned as the zombie looked toward him, and a moment later skull, brain, and blood were all over the wall. As the zombie dropped he looked at the wall and frowned a bit. “I just know we’re gonna end up having to clean this place now. Damn it.” Unfortunately, he was right. Knowing Sweet, he’d make us scrub the place and deal with all the bodies since we’d decided to stay there. Granted, none of us would have wanted to stay in the place while it was decorated with gore, so it wasn’t exactly the worst assignment.

This new bit of information in-hand, James continued on around the building, and as soon as he spotted some zombies, he began banging on things with the slicer, and kicking walls to make noise. Then of course came the shouting. In the animal kingdom it probably would have been called posturing, but here we just called it a lot of loud cursing and running off at the mouth. Either way, it was incredibly effective, and did get the hordes to begin following him through the school grounds. It was like putting a dollar on a fishing reel. Worked every time. Of course, this time it might have worked a little too well, as James was quickly beginning to figure out that there were just a few too many zombies for his plan to work exactly as he had planned it.

Even so, he wasn’t about to try and change that plan now. Pressing onward, he made his way to the boy’s locker room. Both had been open earlier in the day, but he knew the layout of the boy’s, and while he assumed that the girl’s locker room was the same way… something just didn’t feel right about going in there right now. Maybe it was the fact that there was a zombie invasion on, or maybe it was the fact that there probably weren’t any girls in there (at least living ones), he wasn’t really sure, but he also didn’t really care about what the exact reason was either. In the end, it wasn’t the plan, and he was sticking to his damn plan.

Running to the boy’s locker room was the easy part, as was dealing with the few zombies that were already inside, however he soon caught a snag in his plan. The original plan had been to run inside, leave the door open on one side, lead them around the locker room a bit, and then go out the other door and use something to bar it. Zombies not being terribly smart creatures, they probably wouldn’t come up with the simple idea of going back out the way that they’d come in, and he could get away from the immediate danger.

Unfortunately, after he cleared out the zombies that were already inside, he went to check the door, and it just so happened that there were actually zombies right on the other side of the door. Thus, running out and trying to bar the door before the zombies that were to be trapped inside could push the doors open would be something of a problem. It wasn’t a problem that couldn’t be overcome given a little time to think, but he also didn’t have that at the moment. After he tested the door – and then abruptly shut it at his discovery – he found that the zombies were beginning to shamble into the locker room. That meant that the horde he’d collected from around the entire school was here, and he didn’t have time to try and make that original plan work.

The good news was that James could also think on his feet pretty well, and the first thing that came to mind was getting to the one place in the locker room that was safe. That place just so happened to be the storage area that was sectioned off from the rest of the locker room. However, the door was locked – but we’d all figured out a long time ago that the equipment issuing window, which was basically just a slide-up section of the chain link that separated the upper half of the areas (there was a counter below that), was never locked. All you had to do was smack it even if it somehow got locked, and it would pop right open to be pushed up by whoever wanted to get inside.

Rushing to it, he found that it was locked – of course it would be locked at a time like this – and smacked it once to pop it open. Setting the slicer on the counter, he shoved the issue window up and then jumped up and grabbed the chain link fencing as he heard the horde growing close. All at once he pulled his legs up and then swung inside through the window. Of course, in his haste he hadn’t really judged the landing angle very well, and ended up on the floor on the other side… but hey, at least he was safer. Nobody was there to see it after all, so his pride was protected. Hopping up onto his feet, he turned, about to reach through to grab his slicer… only to find the horde rushing up to the window. Not wanting to chance getting bit, he growled and refrained from reaching through. However, he did want his weapon back.

Looking around the equipment area, he saw bats, balls, rackets, and all other manner of equipment in the storage – many things that were also in the cafeteria, actually; that was due to the fact that this building was going to be renovated. The storage area wasn’t overly large. Wandering through the storage, he ignored the screeching zombies for the most part, knowing that they weren’t going to get through the barrier. Still, he couldn’t seem to find a weapon to kill the ones closest to his slicer. At least, that was until he actually managed to spot something that made his eyes light up: a recurve bow and quiver of arrows. What was that doing there? Well, Sweet was planning on starting up an archery team over the summer, and have them compete the next semester. So much for that plan, huh?

Grabbing up the bow and setting the quiver full of arrows down near him, he grinned as he faced the zombies that were pressed up against the counter and chain link. Slipping an arrow out of the quiver, he notched it and drew back, taking aim. With a wicked smirk, he let fly… and missed. Instead of going through an eye socket, the arrow hit the chain link near it and ricocheted off – ending up flying across the locker room and upward, imbedding itself in the wall above the door to the showers. James’ mouth hung open a bit, and then he glared at the arrow that mockingly remained in the wall – like someone had meant to send a threat, but had forgotten to put the note on the arrow. Taking a breath, he blew up into his hair. This was one of the things that he actually got cross with me about, though it was through no fault of either of us.

You see, it turns out I was actually rather naturally gifted with the use of a bow and arrow. I’ve always half-jokingly said it was due to having Apache and German ancestors. Sadly, it seemed that might have been true, as Lea also had the same natural talent, albeit to a lesser degree. Of course, she had a natural talent with almost any ranged weapon that didn’t actually have to be thrown. I’d always been the best of us all with a bow. Chien, oddly, was only about average with one, and while James could use one easily due to his upper body strength… accuracy wasn’t exactly his thing.

I could hit something the size of a soda can at thirty meters. James… well, James was lucky to hit a basket ball at thirty feet. This close he should have been able to hit them where he wanted, actually, but with the added obstacle of the chain link and the movement of the zombies, hitting them perfectly wasn’t as easy as he had first figured on. Taking up another arrow and notching it, he pulled it back slowly and focused on his breathing. In and out, three times, deep breaths, slowly, eyes closed… focus… and then exhale… open eyes… find target… aim… and let fly. That time he had it. A perfect shot right through the eye, and the zombie slumped forward against the counter; the arrow through the chain link and its head holding it up so that others couldn’t take its place.

This process was repeated another four times after the original, leaving a total of five zombies pinned against the counter by a combination of the zombies behind them and the arrows through their heads. Setting the bow down, James stepped toward the counter quietly and slipped his hand through the issue window. Taking hold of the slicer’s handle, he moved slowly and brought it back through the window before slamming it shut, just to keep the zombies distracted with even more noise. Of course, the zombies themselves were making plenty of noise all on their own by now. It was strange really, to see things that were once human now acting entirely animalistic. It did make one wonder, when one had of course the time to ponder over things that tried to eat them, if this is what our ancient ancestors were like.

Of course, I’m not speaking of the Romans or the Greeks or any other ancient civilization – but rather, uncivilized man. The hunter. The man that came before organized languages, writing, and huts. The man that was driven by the need to breed and feed like any other omnivore out there. Did we once act this way? It would be suggested that we did if this is truly what happens when our animalistic minds are at work and our higher brain functions cease to operate as we know they now do. The simple fact that there are cannibalistic human tribes in parts of the world would only reinforce this thought, wouldn’t it? Does that mean that all humans have the capacity for this sort of crazed bloodlust? Are we all cannibals waiting to be pushed over the edge? Is this what happens if we truly embrace our instincts? The possibility is frightening, and yet, on some sort of basic level, oddly… comforting, don’t you think?

The slicer back in James’ grasp, he felt empowered, perhaps for the fact that he now had a weapon that he knew he could use well, or perhaps because he just didn’t need to use that bow anymore. Who knew really? In the end, either way, it just made him feel better to have it. Moving quietly now, he made his way toward the equipment area’s exit door, grabbing up a couple of jump ropes on the way. Opening the door as quietly as he could, and shutting it just the same way, he then moved over to the double doors that were nearby and tied them shut. With a grin, he stood straight and dusted his hands, then gave a nod at his fine work. Turning around, he was intent on heading back… until he spotted the zombies that were beginning to surround him. Fifteen of them in total had snuck up on him from around the wall that was constructed in front of the double doors on this end of the locker room.

Looking one way, and then the other, he was fighting against the instinct to run. Running wasn’t his thing – he was a fighter. He wasn’t supposed to run. Of course, fifteen to one odds were never good, not even for an experienced combatant – and considering he’d never been in more than an organized match, sparring, and a couple street fights… fifteen zombies was more than he was ready for at once, and he knew it. That was when he caught sight of the round metal drainage pipe that connected to the roof of the locker room and rushed toward it; sliding the slicer through his belt.

Jumping and grabbing the pipe, he began to climb as fast as he could, though it was an awkward sort of climb as the pipe was so close to the actual brickwork of the building. Top that off with the fact that the pipe was actually beginning to come loose from the old bricks that made the building, and it was only that much harder. Feeling his grip beginning to slip and the pipe starting to pull away from the brick, James could say but only one thing as he tried desperately to climb higher like an inch-worm. “Awkward angle… awkward angle… awkward angle…” However, something stopped his motion. A bullet ricocheting off the pipe right above him, followed by the crack of a rifle a second later, made him freeze in place and then look over his shoulder down at the zombies; three of them laying dead on the ground after a single bullet had passed through their skulls – one right after another.

==X==X==X==

After Lea left the classroom, and thus the rest of the group, she had started off at a dead run. Even loaded down with the rifle and its ammunition, Lea was fast. As a matter of fact, she was second only to James – even when she had a load on her. Sad fact was, she was actually faster with that load than James was because she regularly ran with that load as practice. Put a forty pound pack on both of them, and Lea would win every time. Why? Because that pack was the same as what she practiced with. James didn’t do that, and thus, once weighted down, his body had to push extra to even come close to his regular speed, while hers was used to it.

As she ran she dipped and ducked around what few zombies remained in her path after James had begun his distraction – killing a few by swinging the ammo can around like a mace and using the rifle to crack to zombies over the head. She never stopped, never slowed down, not even while using the rifle as it was intended to be used. The beautiful thing about her movements was that they were very much like a dance – mostly because she actually did know how to dance. She’d been a ballerina when she was younger, and while she’d gotten herself out of that, she’d continued to learn to dance all through her life. She said it was just about the only thing she thought she did that could be considered sexy. I can’t say I’d ever met a boy that disagreed with it being such, though I did knock a few over the head for saying it.

If ever there was a reincarnation of Annie Oakley, it was probably her though. Trick shots were her main delight to perform, and while she moved as she did, using the ammo can and the rifle for melee, she also would fire the rifle off to get a few distance kills – one handed. Her method of doing this was an interesting one, and consisted mostly of rapid movement. It also likely only worked because of her intimate knowledge of how angles worked. It wasn’t even knowledge of mathematics so much as an innate knowledge of the natural world around her. She always used the excuse it was because she was female that she could do these things and we couldn’t – at least when we asked her how she did it out of our frustration at being unable to do so. When we genuinely asked her though, she admitted that she couldn’t really explain it. It was just some sort of instinct that she possessed.

As to her method of firing a bolt action rifle one handed, she would do a number of movements in rapid succession. The first round had been chambered when she loaded it. After firing it, her hand grabbed the bolt with an upward jerk and then a backward pull as her arm flexed and brought the muzzle up – this ejected the spent cartridge. Then there was a hard upward push and forward jerk she twisted the bolt closed – this loaded the next, fresh, round.

From there she could do multiple things; bring the rifle down forward and shoot through a target in front of her, bring it down backward over her shoulder and shoot something directly behind her, aim the rifle off to the right, or aim it to the left behind her. How did she hit the things that were behind her? Simple – she actually made sure she knew where they were before she fired. Unlike her sniping, her trick shooting was actually pretty fast. Mostly instinct driven, and she never let herself second guess her target.

Even as she fired she refused to slow down, moving forward toward her objective at all times. She knew that James didn’t need her help when it came to the close-in work; she couldn’t really do much at close range without a bayonet anyway, and the Remington didn’t have a lug for one – something that rather annoyed her at that moment. She was incredibly skilled at rifle fighting; it was the only close range fighting she was good at really, and she couldn’t really use that skill. By the time that she reached her objective, which happened to be the Wi-Fi tower that the school had, she’d gone through two of the magazines that she’d grabbed from the box and had loaded the fresh third magazine into it.

Ammo can and Remington slung over her shoulder, she began to climb the ladder on the side of the tower with all haste; making sure first that she was out of the reach of any zombies, and then looking toward the other side of the school, toward the locker rooms. Just in time to see James coming out of the equipment area exit door. At the same time, she saw the zombies that were on the other side of the wall and knew that James was about to be in trouble. Doping her scope for the range and mentally taking windage into account, she then tried to get a good position to shoot from, but found that nothing she tried felt quite right. Nothing was stable. The best position she could hope for would have been to be standing on the ladder facing the opposite direction, but the ladder was too close to the tower itself to stand on the other side.

Letting out a frustrated growl, she brought her right leg up and slid it through one of the ladder rungs, locking it in place there, and then took the ammo can from her shoulder. Holding it in one hand and the rifle in the other, she leaned back, brought up her left leg like a hook, and then let herself hang upside down – her right leg being all that was holding her in position. Her left leg still bent like a hook, the ammo can was slipped onto it to hang by the back of her knee, thus freeing up both her arms to use her rifle without interference. Said rifle was brought into position and on instinct she took aim and fired as James began to climb the pipe. The round impacted right above him, causing him to freeze in place, and ricocheted to pass through the skulls of three zombies.

A wicked grin came to her as James began to climb again as fast as he could, the pipe beginning to give way more and more, thus providing new angles. Round after round flew from the Remington as James climbed; the next two now impacting below him. The last two rounds didn’t touch the pipe, but instead were able to be shot right through her targets. Five shots. Fifteen dead zombies. Total of twenty seconds firing time. A grin came to Lea’s lips as she righted herself on the ladder and put the ammo and rifle back in their proper positions. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw James reach the locker room’s roof just as the drain pipe finally gave way completely.

A last-second jump and he managed to grab the edge and pull himself up as the drain pipe fell over – hitting the wall in front of the doors; the upper half continuing to travel down and impact a couple more zombies. James safe for the moment, she began to climb at a hurried pace toward the top of the Wi-Fi tower before she finally heard her radio spring to life with James’ voice: “What the fuck, Lea?!”

“What James, no thank you?”

“You almost shot me!”

“You’re welcome.” There was a cheeky grin on her face as she heard a string of curses, but these weren’t over the radio. These she could hear perfectly well with the naked ear, and they made her smile.