So Many Goodbyes

Chapter 11

We decided to take it slow, weaving in and out of the streets and alleys, sticking to the shadows and listening out for any noises that weren’t alive. As we walked along, I realised just how quiet it was. Everyone was dead. The first wave of zombies on the monitors in school had shown that they weren’t attacking ordinary people much; they were just all heading for the school. But that army was massive, hard to control by their leaders, and once they realised that the school was theirs, they then turned on the rest of the city, and there was no stopping them. As soon as you managed to kill one, you were attacked by another. But something else bothered me, and not just the lack of noise (which was incredibly disturbing). It was so well planned, like really planned, like down to the last detail kind of planned, like the kind of plans that includes back up plans. Everything was so thought out, everything so perfectly timed and executed. It was so… military. And that was scary.

The smell wafting from the open doors of now abandoned houses was starting to get on my nerves. It wasn’t so much the dead bodies that was getting annoying, but everything else; the food that had burnt or left open, out on the table, the shit that people shat when they died, litter boxes that hadn’t been changed yet, meat and fish that had been left uncooked on the counter. I started to feel a little bit ill, sick with all the overwhelming smells that I was suddenly aware of now the sounds of the busy streets had died away completely. But on we walked, ignoring the vial mixture of smells that made me want to throw up, determined to reach the school and end this for the final time.

We ended up getting more than we had previously bargained for. In our heads, it was a standard mission; get in, find the room, blow us all to hell. But there was one fateful, small, snag. We didn’t bank on there being zombies there. We had sort of forgotten about them, actually. To be honest, it wasn’t that hard to forget about them, seeing as none of them were in town. Now we knew why. The main entrance and driveway was guarded by Mr and Mrs Moors, the butcher and the baker that worked in a small coffeehouse near where I used to live. They always used to have such nice faces with kind smiles plastered to them, and left bones for stray dogs every Saturday and I always got a meat pie from them before my training on Sunday. Now, they looked so disfigured, so horrendous, and terrifying, so evil, that for a moment I didn’t think it could be the same two people. I took a deep breath, and tried to think. There were just so many of them. Past the bodies of Mr and Mrs Moors, through the glass doors I saw even more of them patrolling the area, in groups no less than two. It was so organised, so structured, so hard to get past to get into the building.

“I’m going to guess they know about the fail safe thing as well.” Scott mumbled quietly so the Moors didn’t hear us. I nodded.

“Only real explanation.” I muttered back. We sank back down the little hill we had climbed to get an overview of the school. I was gutted. As if this wasn’t hard enough. Scott huffed.

“What now?” he asked.

“Not a clue. Sneaky approach?” I was only joking around, but Scott’s eyes suddenly lit up the way they did when he got an idea. He smiled at me in a certain way that said I’ve outdone you this time.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s sneaky alright… and a little bit dusty.” I frowned, thinking for a few seconds, then it hit me. I smiled back at him and in unison, we both said,

“Air ducts.”

I lobbed a pebble in the opposite direction to us. The Moor’s heads snapped towards the sound, and after a few grunts and growls at each other, they sauntered off to investigate, snarling and hobbling as they went. We kept low, and ran down towards the entrance, but didn’t go inside. Instead, we stayed close to the wall on the outside, ducking down under the windows and only moving when we were sure no one had spotted us. After what felt like forever, we finally reached the back wall of the school. Just above us was the entrance the air ducts. I sighed. I’d never been good with tight spaces. I didn’t think it was because I was claustrophobic; I could stand small rooms fine. I think it was the fear of getting stuck. Scott squatted down a little, and made a cradle with his hands. Without hesitation I put my foot in the cradle and was suddenly launched into the air, so high that I almost missed the grating completely.