Outbreak redux

1. Patient Zero (as far as I know)

"Alright, so you guys understand what we're doing today?" Mrs. Cardhall said, clapping her hands together in finality. A chorus of yeahs and nods resound as she slides off the front desk and returns to her seat.

"Ugh, I didn't hear a word she said," Marcus groaned, pulling out his notebook from his drawstring bag. "Did you?" He asked Leah, who sits across from him.

"Not a word," she replied, pushing her dyed red hair out of her face. After looking at Brittney, who shook her head, she looked across the room at me. "Jesse!"

I shook my head and shrugged. Half-smiling, half grimacing, I said, "You assume I'm listening," which, after being out on break for a week, was very wrong. I was still thinking about my weekend, painfully reminded by the hangover still pounding at one in the afternoon, two days after a great night. I glance at John, who sits across from me, but he has his innocent smile on and I don't even bother.

When the door opened, fifteen minutes into class, we all kind of glanced that direction. In walked Daniella, her skin oddly pale behind her large sunglasses. Well, I say walked.

She didn't have a backpack, which should've been our first clue. She was always carrying that thing around. But not that day. Her red hair was half pulled out of a bun, and her sweatshirt was skewed put of place. Mrs. C asked Daniella if she had a pass, and a rumbling moan escaped her lips in reply. She kept walking toward the far wall, not seeming to notice the chair she was supposed to sit in as she passed it.

The teacher reasserted her question, this time more forcefully, expecting more of an answer than that. Daniella stopped dead and turned toward Mrs. C. Suddenly, she leapt toward the teacher, and half a second later Mrs C screamed, "Agh! You bit me! What the hell is wro-"

She was cut short, the rest of the sentence gurgling through blood as the tardy student devoured her, starting at the neck. Blood and flesh flew from the teachers chair.

By this point, I was out of my seat, backpack on and heading for the door, listening to the screams of the fleeing females who'd gotten up before me in my class. I stopped at the door to close it behind me and glanced back at the thing that was Daniella that morning. It looked up at me, blood dripping from her perfect white smile and staining around her mouth. Her shades had fallen in the frenzy, and her eyes were bloodshot and the iris was.. Not right. I couldn't quite place it, but her eyes were unsettling. Glad I was on the other side of the door, I looked around and saw Jessica's Converse shoe going out the back way, headed west, and John heading east, through the main door, further into the school.

Decisions, decisions.

I headed for the back stairs, because I knew that the seniors were probably running into Hell itself, if Daniella was any indication. Before reaching the double doors, I poked my head into Mr. Post's classroom. Jessi's backpack was on her desk, but no one was in the room. Guess they were in the media or making a textbook run. Damn. Taking the stairs two at a time, I called her, to no avail.

Reaching the parking lot, I found Jessica, Leah, Marcus, and Brittney congregated, talking animatedly. Interrupting, I said, "Why are y'all still here? There's a break in the fence right there, let's get going." I pointed and started walking toward the giant holes in the gates of the student parking lot.

"Wait, what about the others?" Brittney said, nervous, "We can't just leave them in there!" I stopped and turned around.

"They made their choice to go the wrong way. Their lives aren't our responsibility. Now, let's go before they figure out that the gates open." With that, I spun on my heel and kept going.

"Where are we going to go?" Leah asked.

Marcus spoke up, "Why not Publix?" Everyone glared at him.

"That is probably the dumbest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, Marcus, I swear," Jessica said, the first I'd heard out of her all day. "Public is probably infested with those things. Let's not."

"But that is a valid question. Does anyone have a zombieready house?" I asked, to blank stares. "Well, shit. I guess we can go to my place, but I don't know how much ammo I have."

"Ammo?" Marcus asked, "for wha-Oh. Never mind that."

"Do you have any blades?" Leah asked, innocently.

Racking my brain, I replied, "Uhh, I think we have a few machetes around, but I don't-"

"Perfect."

With that, we headed west along 52, toward the Gulf.

~_~_~_~_~_

Note: this is a republishing of a zombie apocalypse story that I wrote earlier this year and while edited for detail, this is probably not going to be anything surprising (if you've read it before) for at least eight chapters. And if you have read it before, let me know if you see anything different because this is from memory.

-JW