I’d missed Charlene’s kill. The creature’s head was chunked open like a pie wedge had been cut from the skull. She had blood spray on her clothing and skin.
“Is there someplace safe we can run to?” I said.
“The school, we should get back inside the school,” Gene said. He waved at everyone.
We followed close behind Gene and his group. I stayed in back and kept checking over my shoulder. Seemed like mostly slow moving zombies, thankfully. Didn’t make them any less dangerous. In large numbers, it’s easy to get overwhelmed, and that was where having swords and machetes sucked. It was one thing to fight off a handful of creatures with steel, but the idea of killing an circling mass and surviving with just a sword was unlikely.
Our entire group moved like a snake, one behind the other, not toward the school’s front entrance, but around to the side of the building. We didn’t stop there either. There were no doors, but many of the windows were boarded up, suggesting this might be the group’s safe haven. I did not see any doorway into the school though.
We reached, not the back, but another corner of the high school building, I knew we’d put some considerable distance between us and the zombies. So much so, I’d stopped checking over my shoulder every other second. By the three large green dumpsters, I saw a door.
Gene jingled a set of keys. It was a big ring, one a janitor might carry. The woman who always seemed by his side urged him on with her hands going up and down. “Hurry, Gene. Hurry, please.”
“Gene,” one of the other guys said and kept looking from Gene to the corner. If zombies rounded it, we’d be trapped in this nook, this alcove area.
I took a quick inventory. There were seven of them; three men and four women. We didn’t have long. The zombies after us might be moving slowly, but they were walking toward us. “Gene,” I said.
Gene inserted a key. I heard the lock springs click, disengage. He pulled open the door. “Inside, everyone!” Again, he waved us forward with a hand, and through the threshold into the school before closing and locking the door behind us.
“Get them to the cafeteria,” Gene said. “Hurry.”
We followed them down dark hallways lit only by a red glow from generator powered electricity. We made a series of lefts and rights. The group we followed didn’t move slowly, or cautiously. My guess was that the school was secure, and had already been checked for the creatures. That, or we were going about this race for the cafeteria all wrong and walking decay could be waiting for us behind every corner.
It took mere minutes, two tops, before we reached the cafeteria. The outside walls were made of glass or Plexiglas so anyone in the hallway could see who was inside the cafeteria. We entered between standing open double doors. The walls inside looked as if they had been painted by student artists. Clouds with planes, rainbows, a sun, and a pot of gold. The back wall, however, was an American flag.
I could not help but think about the mess we’d gotten ourselves into with the Terrigino Brothers. We’d looked to them for help. They looked at our women as a way of re-populating the planet.
Just where the fuck were we?
Chapter Thirteen
Butler County High School -- 2321 hours
“Sit,” Gene said. No one moved. We’d fought a common enemy, but that didn’t make us friends. My group and I had returned to help after hearing gunshots and screaming, but the tension between the twelve of us was thick, almost visible. “Sit, please!”
There were eight chairs per round table, and more than twenty tables in all. The room was split in half. Straight ahead were two separate doors. Looked like one you entered to get your food, and the other you exited after paying. From here, I could see the white cash register.
The eerie red glow from mounted floodlights set a mood.
I wasn’t a man of words. If I had to name it, I’d label it: Distrust.
I sat at a table to the left of Gene. Allison, Charlene and Dave followed suit. We sat more side-by-side, despite the shape of the table. Gene nodded toward us, a clear sign of appreciation. Then he turned and faced his people, and with his hand, waved at the table next to us.
The group sat, but ignored the table next to us and instead opted for the opposite side of the aisle between the two rows. Gene shook his head and clapped his hands in surrender against his thighs. “Whatever. Fine. Sit where you’d like.”
“We need food,” I said.
“We’ll get to that,” Gene said. “We have food. Water. You--you’re bleeding. . .”
A guy at the other table jumped up, pointed a handgun at me.
Dave did the same, leveling his weapon at the man.
“He bit?” the guy said. He was big, dressed in black and yellow, hometown Pittsburgh Steeler get-up. Nothing like a die-hard of any sport. Always a little off their rocker, if you ask me.
“I don’t know, Andy. Who had time to ask?” Gene said. “Sir, were you bit by one of…one of those things out there?”
I shook my head. Wasn’t an easy way to explain it. “Cut myself in the plane.”
“The plane?” Andy said. “Lift your shirt. I want to see. I don’t wanna see any bite marks. I see bite marks, we’ve got a problem.”
“He doesn’t have to do shit.” Dave pulled back the hammer on his gun.
“If you guys want food, a place to rest, I’m afraid he does,” Gene said. Sounded like a diplomat.
I put my hand up to Dave to stop him. “They’re right. Lower the gun.”
I unzipped my vest, and lifted the flannel shirt up. The cloth material had dried to the wound. “If I pull, I’m going to start the bleeding again,” I said.
Gene took a step closer. “Melissa, please go fill a pitcher with warm water. Grab some napkins, too. Sir, why don’t you lie down on the table? Let me have a look.”
“You a doctor?” I said, missing Erway, more than just our token paramedic.
“I’m the school janitor, but I have training,” he said.
“EMT? Paramedic? You ride with an ambulance?” Charlene said.
“Internet.”
I laughed. Thought Gene might, too. He didn’t. “Wait, what? You’re serious?”
“Gene is a survival nut. One of those guys they might do a TV show on. You know, turned his house into a bomb shelter, can live off the land, that kind of thing,” Andy said.
“All from the internet?” I said. I hoped the sarcasm wasn’t dripping. “Like what? One of those preppers?”
“We pull that shirt off the cut, you’re right, gonna hurt.”
Melissa, with long dark hair, returned. She didn’t say anything but instead poured the water onto my chest. It wasn’t warm, as suggested. I cringed, and my muscles tightened as it soaked the flannel before I slowly lifted it off my skin.
“That’s nasty,” one of the other women said. “He’s going to need stitches. A lot. You say you got that from the plane crash?”
“More or less,” I said. I looked for Andy and locked eyes. “But I wasn’t bitten.”
“I’m convinced,” Gene said. “Kia, you want to run and grab the sewing kit. It’s right in the desk drawer in the nurse’s office.”
“I can do that.” Kia was taller than me, although I was only 5’8”. She had dark, black skin, big brown eyes and a very infectious smile. She appeared both confident and tough. I liked that. Strong and tough were two qualities that demanded admiration. For some reason, although, she hadn’t proven a thing, right now she had mine.
“While we wait, why don’t we introduce ourselves?” Gene said.
I closed my eyes. Ice breaking games and shit wasn’t what I was in the mood for. I wanted a shower. Late dinner. Cold beer. And, God, how long has it been since I’ve had a cigarette? Far too long. I wasn’t just jonesing, I felt itchy all over from withdrawal symptoms.