Dead College (Horror, Zombie Apocalypse, Walking Dead, Drama) Read online

Zack dodged the first zombie's careless tackle easily enough. It was a slow creature, with tattered clothes and more stiff movements. It was probably one of the students in here that he neither knew before nor cared to know now. He kicked it in the stomach with all his might, watching as it crashed against the same set of double doors Zack wanted open so much earlier.

  "Whoa!" He cried, ducking just in time before the arms of the second zombie closed in on him.

  If he took them one by one, he would have no trouble at all. But one wrong move and a swarm of them would easily overwhelm him.

  Zack punched it in the knees, watching the second zombie fall over backwards before slowly getting up without missing a beat.

  He saw zombies with limbs ripped and blown off, with half their bodies gone, using only their hands to drag themselves on the ground. Any fatal injury sustained by the living, the undead could shrug off and continue in their single-minded quest for living flesh like nothing at all.

  As much as it was an unbelievably interesting situation to encounter, Zack would have much rather returned to the dull and dreary life of a college student.

  He looked towards the horde. Was it just him, or did they seem to move faster than before?

  One of the zombies in front broke into a lumbering jog.

  Zack's eyes widened in horror. They could do that?!

  From the corner of his eye, he spied a staircase to the side. The sense of hopelessness that engulfed his very being earlier melted away as quickly as it came.

  Seizing the moment, Zack hit the staircase landing running just as the first of the zombies had reached him.

  Dodging their collective grasp by just a fraction of a second, he bounded up the stairs two, no, three steps at a time, praying to god that he didn't encounter anything or anyone that would slow him down.

  He reached the second floor fast enough to break the school record only to see a couple of zombies loitering around the second floor corridor. One seemed to perk up in his presence, as if it had noticed the prospect of a living meal within its grasp.

  "Nope!" He yelped subconsciously to himself as he continued up the flights of stairs without stopping.

  The third floor seemed clear enough. Then again, with this part of the faculty being so deserted even when the zombies hadn't hit yet; it was no surprise that Zack was cursing himself for not thinking of coming here sooner.

  He leant over the staircase railing and looked down below.

  The zombies didn't seem to have the coordination of the living. The stumbled and tripped over the stairs like a clumsy three year old exploring his environment for the first time. But like a colony of mindless ants that only live to serve their queen, they trampled over the bodies of their own kind in servitude of their undying hunger for Zack.

  Zack allowed himself just a second of contemplation, watching their relentless perseverance to turn him into one of their own. It was almost admirable. But he knew it was thoughts like these that would get him killed.

  He hurried down the third floor corridor, trying all the doors along the way.

  Most were locked, adding to his increasing sense of panic. But the unassuming wooden door at the end somehow wasn't.

  Thank god! Zack sighed in relief as he turned the knob and flung the door open.

  "Mwarrrgh…"

  Zack turned behind him as the calls from hell echoed off the walls and into his ears. The shifting mass of shadow against the staircase landing told him there wasn't a moment to lose.

  He closed the door as quickly as he had opened it, hoping against hope that the zombies didn't see him.

  Locking the door as an extra safety measure, he turned round to discover just what sort of room he had picked to hide inside.

  It was part lab, part museum.

  Jars of rocks, crystals and other specimens of the Earth's crust adorned the musty shelves of the room.

  Zack finally remembered where he was now.

  This place was essentially Professor Hadley's favorite retreat. Zack remembered the slow afternoons in this room with him, the seemingly endless talk of rock types and other lithospheric processes.

  What used to be a place of academic monotony that he so dreaded, Zack now cherished its status as his sanctuary.

  His mind worked furiously, against all 'dumb jock' stereotyping as he struggled to consolidate all he had learnt about the zombies so far.

  For one, they were slow, but some could be terrifyingly faster than others. Their movements were stiff, crude and vulgar. Pain seemed to have no effect; neither half-hearted did appeals to their conscience.

  Zack wasn't even sure if all of them were already dead. But from those that visible fatal injuries still moving towards him like they were completely fine, what other explanation could there be for their existence? They were zombies, plain and simple, the kind that got pulverized by the hundreds in the violent video games he played in his dorm.

  But this was no video game. These zombies were different. For one, they were alarmingly real.

  His hand reached for his pocket, only to find it empty, much to his dismay.

  "Shit!" He seethed under his breath. Now he remembered: he had left his smart phone in his bag which he left in class when he ran.

  Trapped in this building with no way to call for help, Zack took a step back and struggled to breathe normally. This was truly a situation he didn't want to be in.

  As he sifted through his cache of memories that he dreaded to have, yet couldn't do without, a certain impression jumped out at him.

  Professor Hadley. As Zack watched his undead professor sit up, he saw the zombie wrinkling its nose, as if it could smell Zack's life from where its sat.

  Horrified, Zack turned round and opened the door just wide enough for him to take a peek.

  He gulped, shutting and locking the door immediately. The fastest zombie was just a few feet away from the door.

  His mind raced in impending agony. What was he to do, when the living dead could smell him from the gap under the door?

  "Mwarrgh!" A shadow rushed at him. Only that it knocked Zack down as well.

  What the! He hadn't seen- this was all happening too fast.

  Zack gritted his teeth, holding off his attacker the best he could.

  Was this a zombie? It seemed far too strong to be an ordinary person.

  The snarling, bloody expression on its face was all Zack needed to see to know that his life depended on keeping that face as far away from himself as he could.

  "Just… fucking… die!" Zack roared, rolling the both of them over so that he was on top this time.

  He grabbed the undead monster by its forehead, smashing it against the hardwood floor as hard as he could.

  In the heat of battle, Zack could have done anything that would kill an ordinary person. But this zombie was much tougher than that.

  Maybe it was dumb luck, maybe it was instinct, but he had a feeling that if he simply couldn't stop the zombie by destroying its head, then nothing could.

  Blood oozed out the back of the zombie's head with each thundering hit.

  "Why, won't, you, die, already!"

  Zack got up at last after countless strikes, watching in fatigued anger as the zombie struggled to its feet as well.

  Casting a glance upon one of Professor Hadley's prized rock specimens in a jar on one of the shelves, Zack grasped it with both hands and sent it shattering over the zombies head with a thundering crash.

  The rock fell to the ground with the dull thud of hope.

  Zack picked it up. It was a rock, but to Zack, it was his path to survival.

  Kicking the zombie back against the door, Zack fell upon it, angrier than he had ever been in his life. He smashed the zombie's head with the rock repeatedly, thwack, thud, thud, until there was nothing left but a shapeless mess of putrid blood and brains.

  Zack leant back at last, panting, exhausted, but never feeling more alive than now.

  The zombie sat there, its arms limp, motionless. Its head
completely pulverized by Zack's handiwork.

  If any of them dare come in, I'll be ready. Zack braced himself.

  But the shuffling outside the door seemed to grow softer and softer.

  Could the best news he had gotten all day be true?

  He opened the door slightly again, just enough for him to peek through the gap and down the corridor.

  The horde was leaving, tumbling down the stairs on the far side of the corridor. Maybe it had sensed some other survivor nearby. Apart from one or two stragglers that broke away from the horde and were now wandering the hall aimlessly till the end of time, the corridor outside was delightfully emptier.

  Zack heaved a sigh of relief as he shut the door again.

  He pulled out a chair and sank heavily into it. By a stroke of good luck, Zack figured, smashing the zombie's head against the door probably put the stench of death and rotting flesh firmly between the horde outside and himself. The bloody rock in his hand fell to the floor with a squishy thud.

  A pang of guilt struck his heart. But Zack wisely buried it before it could do any further damage.

  It was a ‘him or me’ situation. Zack thought. Besides, he was dead already.

  The headless zombie wore the clothes characteristic of your average immature college student. Some stupid band T-shirt and jeans too skinny for good health. Who knew what the hell he was doing in here anyway?

  There were too many mysteries for Zack to comprehend.

  Regaining his breath, Zack got up looked around. It was a near windowless room. No place for windows when you had more shelves than you ever needed anyway.

  With the exception of a lone window near the ceiling that probably required a chair to stand on in order to see through, Zack couldn't see any other natural sources of light in this place.

  Maybe that's why I didn't notice the zombie in the at first. Zack thought as he looked around the room further.

  Fighting and winning his life back gave Zack a sense of achievement he hadn't felt for ages. But at the same time, if he was going to have to repeat this gruesome and tiring process for every single zombie in this faculty, Zack figured he might as well just end it all right here and now.

  His eyes shifted over to Professor Hadley's desk and sparkled with hope.

  He dragged the chair over and sat down in front of the shiny standard staff-issued laptop.

  Please, please, please. Zack prayed as he lifted the lid and pressed the power button.

  The screen lit up, showing him the desktop page.

  "Yes!"

  There weren't any passwords he had to second guess. He was thankful, for having to do so was definitely not his strong suit.

  Checking for Wi-Fi and finding the computer still connected to the school's network, Zack logged on eagerly. Finally, he had a connection to the outside world.

  He pulled up the local news website, only to find it inundated articles about the current zombie attack, all published this morning.

  It wasn't just this college. Some nearby towns were already taken.

  'Experts' were calling it a viral outbreak similar to rabies. Yeah right, rabies doesn't bring you back from the dead.

  He pulled up the county news website to find more of the same thing.

  Strangely enough, the national newspapers had nothing on the ongoing horrific events that was happening to the college town. Was the government trying to suppress the news and pretend that nothing wrong was happening?

  Zack logged into his email. His parents were two thousand miles away but just in case, he shot them a mail saying that he was all right and that he would try to make it to them and to stay safe.

  There simply wasn't enough information on the internet to decide on whether this was a global pandemic, a new biological weapon or worse. But Zack had learnt all he needed to know about the present situation.

  He got up and pushed the chair in front of the window.

  Pale rays of sunlight shone through, illuminating the dust on the musty shelves. Zack stood on the chair and peeked out.

  The college itself seemed deserted enough, with the exception of a man running away from several zombies. Corpses were sizable, strewn about like a war just broke out.

  Zack cast his gaze a little further and covered his mouth in shock. The main town seemed to be burning. Several columns of smoke kissed the sky as the town center probably burned down below.

  Getting off the chair, Zack paced about in frantic desperation. The situation was worse than he had imagined. He had thought of calling 911 but with things looking so bad, he doubted that he could get through to anyone helpful.

  "…elp! …help!"

  Zack’s eyes widened, alert. He shuffled over to the bloody rock and picked it up.

  "Was there a survivor still in the faculty?"

  The hurried patter of desperate footsteps rang out in the corridor outside.

  Zack rushed to the door to take a peek.

  It was someone alive! Tall, blonde and muscular, Zack figured he must play for some college team. Definitely not football, he had never seen him out on the grounds before. Maybe swimming, or lacrosse, or baseball. Definitely a student too.

  He rushed towards the door, his eyes darting about, trying all the doors along the way and swearing when he found them locked.

  Zack watched him intently. There was blood on his obligatory college tee, blood on his hands, a scratch on his cheek. But there wasn't the usual groan of numerous undead behind him.

  So just what was he running from.

  A single lone shadow appeared on the far end of the corridor, moving up and down like its owner was climbing up the stairs.

  Zack wanted to throw the door open, to offer his fellow survivor sanctuary. But on seeing the man in bloody coveralls finally show up at the far end of the corridor, Zack thought it may be wiser to just observe.

  "Please… please don't do it. I'm alive! I haven't been bit! Please!"

  The student gave up after trying the door before Zack's room. He turned, got on his knees and literally pleaded to the man taking his time.

  Zack didn't know what made this man so intimidating, but he knew better than to interfere right now.

  The figure grew bigger as he approached the student.

  This man wore the janitor's coveralls, similarly stained with various patches of dried blood. Add a bandana and black sunglasses to the outfit and his cold, impersonal demeanor was complete, reminding Zack of a scary Harley biker.

  "Please, don't kill me, I swear! I swear, Max, I ain't bit -"

  Bang.

  Zack fell backwards onto the floor in surprise, accidentally flinging the door open as he did so.

  He stared, unable to believe what just happened.

  The student slumped onto the floor, blood oozing from the gunshot wound to the head, his lifeless eyes seemingly staring straight into Zack's soul.

  The janitor stood over the student's dead body. A thin wisp of smoke billowing out from both the cigarette at the side of his mouth and the muzzle end of the revolver in his grip.

  The janitor looked up at Zack and, for a split second, their eyes met.

  Zack gripped his rock tightly.

  It doesn't get anymore fucked than this!

  Chapter 3