As the group of infected closed in, dread began to settle in my stomach. I ripped off my backpack and rooted around for the extra magazine I had stashed.
"Fuck!"
I fumbled around in the bag before my fingers finally wrapped around it; then I fiddled with the Beretta trying to get the empty magazine to eject, but it was difficult when your fingers were coated in blood. As soon as the empty one clattered to the floor, I jammed the full magazine in just in time to see the first infected drop to the ground in front of me.
It reached towards me and I gave it the honor of receiving the first bullet in my magazine. I cocked the gun and put the barrel right against its forehead, pulling the trigger. Brain matter flew out of both sides of the bullet wound and the thing slumped down with a thud.
"Ugh, gross," I muttered as I wiped away the pieces of brain I had been back splattered with.
A second infected had managed to trip itself on the dead legs of the first one. I aimed at its now floor-level snapping face and shot it at point blank range. While I was occupied with the first two, a third infected had managed to climb underneath the table. It seemed to be in pretty good condition as far as decay went. No limbs were missing or chunks of flesh removed.
It grabbed at my ankle, pulling itself to me. The trail of blood I had brought with me made it easier for the infected to shimmy towards me on its belly. I couldn't help myself; I screamed bloody murder as I used the butt of my gun to bash its head in. The infected just continued to snarl and snap away despite the brain damage I was giving it.
Then as suddenly as the thing had grabbed me, it was gone. The body was pulled backwards, its fingers digging into the linoleum. I watched as a heavy boot come down again and again until the head no longer existed, instead, just pile of pulp. I sat there for a second to get my bearings and gather all the items spilled from my backpack during the frantic search for my spare magazine.
The figure kneeled down, showing me his face. Darren reached his hand under for me to take and pulled me to my feet.
"Holy shit." He paled at the sight of me covered in blood. "You bit?"
He checked me over rather intrusively to see if I was bit anywhere.
"What? You're not even going to buy me dinner first?" was all I could think to say. Darren stopped what he was doing; he actually had the good graces to look embarrassed.
"I take it you're fine if you can crack a joke," he glared at me. "Why are you covered in blood?"
"I slipped and fell in some." My face scrunched up as I looked down at myself. I was literally covered in the stuff. I started to giggle and then burst into full-fledged laughter at the sight I must have been.
"Sometimes I wonder about you," Darren said as he rolled his eyes at my outburst of hysterical laughter.
I laughed even harder at his words. I felt the exact same way about him.
"It's always me," I muttered as my laughing subsided.
"Seriously though, are you okay?"
"Yeah, no bites or scratches, but I think I might have re-injured my elbow when I fell," I said cradling my left arm. It was starting to throb again.
"Let me see," Darren said checking my elbow over. "I don't think anything is broken; there's no discoloration of the skin, but I'd have the surgeon take a look at it when we get back."
Darren was still holding my arm as we just stood staring at each other. He moved in closer, his hands aiming for my face. For a brief moment of horror, I thought he was going to try to kiss me. Instead he pulled his hand away, dropping something wet sounding to the ground.
"You have some brains in your hair," Darren said.
I stared down at the grey matter on the bloody floor, glad that I wasn't going to have to kick his ass for trying to cheat on Zoe.
"That's so gross," I sighed.
"You kind of look like a mess. Let's check some of the dorm rooms and get you some clean clothes."
"I look like that girl from Carrie."
"Except that's probably not pig's blood."
I shot him a sharp look. "Thanks, but I'm trying not to think about that."
We finished checking a few more booths, but found more or less the same thing in each; a pile of rotten food and pop. Darren used the axe to break into the vending machines at the cafeteria entrance.
Since the front was made of Plexiglass, it was harder to get into because it didn't shatter like regular glass. The plastic sheet rippled as the axe got wedged right in the center. Darren shoved the axe further in and down, then yanked back like he was trying to win a game of tug-of-war. The window came out in one piece, almost taking me out in the process.
"Watch it!" I yelled as I danced to the side to avoid being impaled by the sheet of Plexiglass.
We filled our bags with the junk food and started back down the hall in search of stairs. I had tried to wipe off the blood on my hands, but my fingers were still starting to stick together. Where were wet-naps when you needed them?
Darren pointed to a staircase.
"You think these are the ones we need?"
"They go up, don't they?"
Jackass.
So I followed him up, the bottom of my shoes starting to stick with each step. This had to be one of the grossest moments of my life. We tried to open the door for the second floor, but there was something blocking it on the other side. The small window was covered from the inside by something with a wood-grain finish.
"Looks like they pushed some furniture against it," Darren commented.
"Like a barricade?"
Darren nodded. That could only mean they were trying to keep something out. I wrapped my blood-stained fingers around the handle of my Beretta just a little bit tighter. Maybe they were trying to keep a barrage of infected out; infected that could be on the stairs.
We tried to look up the rest of the flight of stairs, but the sparse windows were making it difficult to see.
"Think we should keep going?" I asked.
"You want to go on in those clothes?"
"No."
So we continued up to the third floor landing. As soon as we opened the door, we immediately backed out into the stairwell again fighting the urge to gag. The door was doing a good job of keeping the smell inside. There had to be numerous dead bodies to make an odor like that.
Darren was the first to get his legs back, "So fourth floor?"
"Oh yeah."
The next floor was neither blocked nor smelt like a morgue after a long power-outage. There were smears of blood on some of the walls, but no bodies. It seemed to be leading to the room number 411.
"I vote we skip that room," I pointed down the hall to the door where the blood smears stopped and the frame was a mess of bloody handprints.
We started to scour the closest rooms that we could open without a key. After tearing apart three rooms, I finally found one that looked like it belonged to a girl. First, I checked the room to make sure nothing would be jumping out from behind the door or from under the bed. Then I proceeded to yank open the drawers on the dresser.
I shuffled through and produced a couple of band t-shirts that would work. Unfortunately the last drawer was filled with mainly skirts and sweats. I pulled out a pair of black sweats and cringed at the backside.
"Why does it say Pink when the pants are black?" I shook my head.
"A question for the ages." I jumped a foot in the air at Darren's voice.
"Seriously, don't do that again," I chastised him. My heart was going a mile a minute.
"You need to be more aware. What if I was an infected?" Darren went on.
"An infected wouldn't have tip-toed in here."
Instead of replying, Darren tossed a towel at me.
"I found the bathrooms and the showers still work. There must still be a bit of water left in the tanks."
He led me to the communal showers.
"I already checked that nothing was in there. I'll stand guard out here. I brought a first aid kit so when you're done, I can wrap your elbow. Don't take too long."
"Not sure how quick I can be when I'm scraping brains out of my hair," I said as I opened the door.
Just to be extra cautious, I re-canvased the bathroom. I found a shower stall that the end and tried the tap. The pipes groaned in the walls, the spout sputtering with off-colored water before a steady stream formed. I quickly stripped off my dirty clothes, flinging them to the ground and hopped under the freezing stream. My breath caught in my lungs from the shock of the cold.
Trying to ignore the ice coating my skin, I hurriedly scrubbed the crusted blood from my skin until it felt raw. My elbow didn't appreciate the movement, but I tried to ignore the ebb of pain. I hadn't thought to grab soap or shampoo so I was only able to rinse myself off. The blood ran off of me like melting snow, swirling around the drain until it ran red no more. I ran my hands through my wet hair over and over again for good measure, making sure I got all the brain out. I chuckled to myself at the absurdity of that. Good thing I wasn't scarred for life or anything.
Using the scratchy towel, I dried off and put on my borrowed clothes. The shirt was a bit tight, but the sweats were a good fit. I opened the door to find Darren gone. So much for standing guard.
"Darren!" I hissed down the hall.
Trying to make as little noise as possible, I held my breath and listened to see if I could hear him nearby. When I couldn't pick up on anything, I started further down the hall with my Beretta at the forefront. Door after door revealed that Darren was nowhere to be seen.
I continued down to the end of the hall, running past 411; of which, the door was now closed. When I got to the last dorm room, I spotted Darren's back to me.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I said, enraged.
He turned to me and held up a baggie.
"You left me unguarded for pot?!"
Darren pointed to the floor. "And cup of soups."
I noticed the plastic shopping bag at his feet overflowing with Styrofoam cups of dried noodles.
"Besides, you're fine and I made sure to check all the open rooms for infected or otherwise."
He must have been the one who closed 411, sparing me the sight of whatever was inside.
"Something could have attacked me while I was showering!"
"Like I said, you're fine," he said like my concern was pointless.
I pointed to the bag of pre-rolled doobies. "Let me guess, this is the real reason we came to the college, right?"
Darren grinned, "Food was my main thought, but I figured there'd be a high chance we'd find some."
I sighed, "You better be sharing that."
"I was thinking we head to the roof and light one up. Not like there are schedules anymore."
"Well we do have a stockpile of junk food," I mused. "Why not." I shrugged, my anger dissipating. After the week I'd had, getting stoned seemed like a reprieve. And it was probably the best offer I've heard since this all started. Plus, my elbow was bugging me and nothing like a little pot to help with the pain.
"Now that you're all cleaned up, let's take a look at that elbow," Darren said as he walked towards me.
He bent down and dug through his backpack, producing a white plastic box with a red cross on it. Inside was the usual fair; bandages, scissors, peroxide, gauze. He pulled out the light brown elastic wraps that one would use for a sprained ankle. After unraveling it, Darren stood up and tightly wound it around my elbow, tying off the ends. The pressure turned the pain into a dull ache, but it made the pain far more manageable.
"Thanks," I said as I inspected my newly wrapped appendage.
I wonder after all the injury to my elbow, if it was going to be permanently messed up, like my Dad's bum knee from one too many baseball slides.
"Take a couple of these to help with the swelling." Darren plunked two pills in my hand.
At my curious stare Darren said, "Ibuprofen helps reduce swelling." I nodded and swallowed them dry.
We headed back to the stairs and climbed up to the top where there was an exit to the roof. Ignoring the warning sign, we opened the door only to be blinded by the light. The sun was a few hours away from setting, so the orange light was shining in between buildings, reflecting of off the glass. It would make a great postcard picture for New Orleans.
"Hold the door open while I look for something to prop it open with," Darren commanded.
He took off in search of something heavy. I looked down to my left to see a cement block sitting there. Clearly, the students never heeded the warning on the door either. I picked up the heavy block and used it to stop the door from closing.
Darren's eye's bulged from his head when I came up beside him.
"What are you doing? You want to be locked up here?"
"Calm down, there was a cement block right beside the door, Sherlock."
"I found some lounger chairs, I guess the students used the roof as a hangout spot," Darren said pointing to the cushioned loungers.
I sat down on the chair to the left and laid back to enjoy the view.