A Week

I’d slipped Glenn’s shirt down over my arms, glad for the lack of friction. The vent is big enough for me to army crawl through, but that’s about it. I don’t dare to raise my neck too much in case I manage to get my head stuck. It’s not nice, but we had a plan; or as much of a plan as we could scrabble together given the situation. I’m going to squash my way through the vent until I can find somewhere that is both less walker infected, and where I can get down without breaking an ankle.

I’ve then got to try and find some way to draw the walkers away, which would be the easy part, and allow Glenn to get out of the cupboard. Then it’s a simple death sprint to the car. In theory.
Of course, that’s the skeleton of a scheme. There are way too many things that can go wrong. I need to get the alarm off for one, which may mean finding whatever back up generator it’s linked to or whatever in hell is making it ring. Then I need to draw what could be an army of walkers away, without getting lost down the hallways, or injured.

Easy peasy.

I’m crawling for several more minutes, my feet catching on corners as I drag myself along. I’m scared of the vent collapsing, and I can still hear walkers, see them through the glimpses of the school I spot between plates. Finally I seemed to have passed all of the walkers in the proximity, and I find a grate I can move. Again, I feel ridiculously like a cartoon but I grasp the knife again and start to undo the screws. From what I can see I’m above a science lab, it must have been locked because although it’s dusty it seems untouched and there are no dead within.

Six screws later and I’m trying to clutch the edges of the metal section, my fingertips aching at the effort and I place it a couple of feet further into the ventilation system. “Okay.” I breathe, leaning so my head is poking through the gap. I was right, it’s a science room and it’s empty. I manoeuvre myself painfully so I am legs first and try to lower myself down, groping with my feet for the table which originally appeared to be right in front of me. It’s a higher drop that I had thought, so I have to give up after a few minutes, my arms screaming in protest and just fall the few metres. My feet slam hard on the table and I fall to my knees to stop myself from toppling into the tiled flooring. Scanning the room I am content I’m alone for the moment and finally let myself relax a little, my shoulders drooping.

Everything hurts to some degree, but I don’t have time to waste, although I have no idea what to do next. I didn’t keep track of my turns, so I have no real idea of how far I am from Glenn and the cupboard. I’m still on the ground floor, but I must have crawled a decent distance. I push myself off my ass and onto the floor, treading over to one of the glass doors and whining as the handle just clicks, but doesn’t turned. It’s locked, I head over to the other and thankfully, this one opens. I keep the knife tight in my grip, and take a few cautious steps into the corridor. I haven’t got any shot of getting anywhere near Glenn as I am. I need to catch a walker.

A couple of steps later I come to a corner, and peaking round there’s three who are obviously on their way to the larger group. As well as the noise, still ringing loudly, they’ll be moving towards the smell of the fresh blood left on the doorway we had hacked to pieces. There’s blood drying over my knuckles now, and I let out a low whistle, attracting the one closest.

She stumbles towards me, and I step backwards, rolling my shoulder so I can slam the knife straight through her forehead as she emerges. She drops hard, but the sound is pretty much covered by the alarm as I reach down and yank the knife out, wincing at the mash of brain that leaks out of the hole. I move back down towards her feet, clutching at her boots and starting to drag her, she’s quite light, but so decomposed that smears of skin follow her across the floor.

As soon as she’s into the classroom I close the door. We’ve done it several times, disguised our scent with the insides of a walker, but it never gets any more pleasant. I do up all the buttons on Glenn’s shirt, before an idea pings. I’m in a science lab, there must be something I can cover myself with. I spot another door, clearly a cupboard and rush to it, it’s locked. I knock on it just to check there is nothing inside, and when I only get silence in response I crouch down, slipping the knife down the outside of the door, pleased when the lock slips and I can drag the heavy door open.

I’ve hit the motherload, there are several lab coats, stained and musty but easily big enough to cover me, and a display of goggles and gloves. I let myself smile, quickly slipping a set of all of them on. It’s familiar, a flash back to the first time I’d done this. Nearly two years ago now, although it seems like several lifetimes. But, I’m stalling, unwilling to get to the nasty bit and I have to force myself to plunge my hand deep into the torso, fighting the urge to vomit. Finally, after what seems like forever I’m sure I’m coated enough to disguise me to them.

I smear the last of the blood over my front before slipping the gloves off, and cleaning the knife a little. I had a gun wedged in the back pocket of my jeans, but I didn’t want to use it, it very much defeated the purpose of hiding. The stench is the worst thing, it catches in your throat, the rotten meat and metallic scent of blood. I must have been gone for about an hour now, and I need to get a move on. I head back down the corridor again, trying to get my bearings. I’m still not sure how best to cause a distraction and to get the dead to move, now I can shuffle amongst them I can work out where they are, how many, but I need something bigger.

I catch up with several walkers, and slow my gait to walk with them, no doubt leading me back to the cupboard. I’m scrambling in my mind, I need something, sounds not an option with the bell. I need something better, I need…I need a fire. The heat, the destruction will draw them, it has too.

And I know a room full of fabric to burn.

I keep with the walkers, I need to know where Glenn is, and how safe starting a fire I won’t be able to control is. Thankfully, within a couple of tense minutes, my heart in my throat I recognise where I am. The gymnasium is down the corridor to my left and the cupboard is on the right at another corner. I stop moving, in-fact I take several very pointed steps back, holding back a whimper as I bump into a walker, and they snarl right into my ear. I avoid eye contact, I don’t know why, there’s nothing there, nothing human left, we all know that. But still, I can barely stand to look them in the face, see that shred of who they are. I lean back against some lockers, several are hanging open, doors only clinging on. I need something to start the fire with, a lighter, any source of a flame.

There’s a lighter in my bag. My bag which is about fifty foot behind me, through what’s left of a splintered door that’s holding back even more of the dead. They hadn’t broken through it, although hands are visible, catching on the shards of wood and tearing unneeded muscles.

The gym was where it had gone wrong. The whole school was some sort of stupid trap. And we’d been the idiots to fall for it, we’d been on a high from how well we had done in the army camp outside, excited about how much medicine we had gathered. The school had been my idea, like I’d said. I’d expected the kitchen at the back of the canteen to be full of easy things to cook, food without a ‘best of’ date. We saw the double doors and went in, it had been pitch black with the blinds down but there was some sort of trip wire, a mechanism I was too dumb to understand, to dream of. The second the door had closed the alarm had begun, some sort of security system we assumed and the doors had locked.

Then we noticed the walkers.

Another reason I didn’t want to use the gun in my pocket was because I only had two bullets, in our desperation we’d shot out several times. Our only viable option had been the hack our way through the door. It was stupid, we were stupid.

It was a close call, the closest for a while and we were not in the clear yet.

I creep along near the wall, always letting my free hand drag against it. I check all of the open lockers as I stumble my way towards the cafeteria. There's nothing of much use, or if there was it was taken long ago. Every creak of the metal doors makes me cringe. The walkers haven't noticed, they can probably barely hear it, if at all, over the bell still clanging so loudly. I'm as hidden as I'm likely to be, dripping with thick blood and losing chunks of organs that slop against the tiles.

I'm breathing through my mouth, having had to fight back the urge to gag several times. The dead are horrific in every way, and the stench of the rotting flesh and decaying clothes is overwhelming. As I get close to the splintered doors everything is. There's no chance of me going through there, there are arms, reaching through still, the fingers claws almost to the bone and skin catching and clinging to the shards of wood. My backpack is lost.

I need another way to divert them, it's my best option. Glenn would never be able to let me back into the cupboard without the horde following, so there's no chance of him pulling a similar trick to the one I'm using now. I need to draw enough away to give him a fighting chance. For us to run as fast as we possibly can to the car left in the small crescent outside. I skip through options in my head, I hadn't see anything resembling a lighter in the lockers, although surely with this being a high school there must be one somewhere. I could break open all of the lockers, tear apart the bags.

That would be noisy; and odd, and that would certainly draw attention.

In fact, it may be paranoia but I'm certain they're starting to pay me a little more notice. They stumble closer, one sniffing across my face, so close and so revolting I want to cry. My disguise is just that, and I'm sweating, my heart is still hammering in my chest. Soon they'll realise I'm alive, and if I'm not far away from them I'll be ripped apart. I walk slowly into the more deserted corridor, there has to be something somewhere I can use. And there has to be stuff I can burn.

There must be something in the science lab, I know there's material for sure, the whole cupboard full of white lab coats. But will they burn well? The knot in my stomach tightens and I have to put a lot of thought into my breathing pattern as I make my way back to the science lab.

Once in I step over what is left of the corpse and head straight towards the cupboards, tearing down the coats and shoving them in a pile on one of the high desks. I'm on autopilot, I need to find something to make a fire. If I don't make a fire I have little chance of getting out of here, Glenn has none.

I break the drawer on the teachers desk, nothing.

If I don't make a fire I can't draw the walkers away properly. Well, I can. There's always another options. I draw them away myself, take off my bloody disguise, make as much noise as I can, run. But they will follow me, which means I cannot use the car. Which means I will run into god knows how many outside and have to find somewhere to hide. It still doesn't give Glenn much of a shot and he'd be furious. Then again, with the likeliness of that plan failing spectacularly he wouldn't have much left of me to be cross at. We're not without some hope, we're not at that level where the deal, our one strict rule would come in to play.

This has to work.

I'm so preoccupied with searching through cupboards and doors that the walker who stumbles in is little more than an irritation, and a second corpse becomes a tripping hazard on the floor. It's taking time again, and the adrenaline and the unyielding noise from the alarm has caused a headache which crashes behind my eyes every few seconds. But I do find useful things, I tear apart several books, adding to the damage on my fingers and stuff scrunched up paper in the pile of fabric. I find one cupboard full of liquids, two in particular have the word alcohol on and I put them aside. Anything that will get this fire to catch and burn violently is exactly what I need.

Five minutes later and I'm satisfied. The sweat is starting to drip from my brow as the beautifully crafted display boards smolder and glow. Half the room is lit, and I'm standing in the door way. The heat is immense, and there are a few of the dead stumbling into the pyre. It's not enough though, I need noise.

There's a sudden shudder, and their groans become loud. It takes a moment for the realistion to hit me, for the ringing in my ears to become just that. By some miraculous stroke of luck the bell has stopped. I let myself smile, truly smile. I have no idea what's done it, and I don't care. The groaning grows louder, and I can hear footsteps. Without the noise the heat will draw them.

Right into the fire, and right into me.

I push flush against the lockers, knife in hand. Some of them are drawn towards me again, with the amount of sweat coating me I'm sure my scent is mixed and somewhat appealing. But it's working, the herd stumble past, they're seeking the heat, the loud crackling and groaning as the ceiling catches as well.

I let several minutes pass once again, before I head to Glenn. There are only five walkers outside the door now. Two I take out easily, before they have chance to spin. The third is more challenging, but I thud on the door several times, hoping Glenn understands that's its a knock and he needs to get his ass out of there.

I slip on blood and what's left of the overweight man crumbles on top of me, jaw snapping. His hands look like they're going for my lower stomach and there's a horrific glimmer of Dale's last moments surrounding me.

The door bursts open, and the body is torn from me. My limbs are flushing with the reflex for flight, and I'm shaking when Glenn wrenches the knife from my fist and the walker drops. “Come on!” He tugs me up, his face pale and tight. I'm sure he looks a lot better than I do and he grimaces as his eyes scour over me. He wants to say more, but I can hear the next bout of bodies, drawn by the noise and the fresh smell of Glenn behind me. “Let's get the hell out of here.”

I agree.

Glenn drives, and we stop at a gas station on the verge of the town. We've barely spoken up until that point, both still catching our breath between exclamations of just how close that had been. The car shudders a little as he turns the engine off, preserving precious gas. “Don't take this the wrong way or anything.” I glance at him, my chest is still tight and my head is pounding. “But you stink.”

There's a moment, where his face lights up, the the terrified mask he had worn up until that point shatters. I join in the laughter, the endorphins and relief a pleasant feeling. Once it dies down I lean and wrench the rear view mirror so it's facing at me, wincing.

“I think I actually look worse than I smell.” He raises his hand, as if to avoid giving me any ammo.

“We're far enough away right?” He nods, and I shove the car door open, my fingers stinging. It's unlikely we'd have many walkers behind us anyway, my last view of the school had been of thick black smoke emerging from what must have been my science classroom. It may have saved us, but it would draw more dead in before too long.

We couldn't linger.

I take a few steps away from the car, slipping off the coat and Glenn's shirt, which had also been splattered with a dark red. “I liked that shirt.” He complains lightly when I hand it to him. “You want your back ups?” I nod, twisting so my back is to him and slipping my own top and jeans off. We always bring a couple of changes of clothes, not including items we find. Whatever happens we don't bring it back to the prison. More importantly, for Glenn at least, we don't bring it back to Maggie, to worry her more than necessary.

I'm going to be coated in purple and blue, it's happening already and with the fear and rush fading every ache and pain in my body seems to be returning in mass. My elbows and knees are raw from crawling through the vent system, my hands are still bleeding and torn. Everything else just throbs and I wince as I pull the top Glenn hands me over my head. “Here.” I thank him, tugging up the shorts in much the same way. We waste a few more minutes checking over our supplies, everything else we had gathered before the school.

I was still pissed about my backpack, but there was no chance of us going back. We had to decide what we were going to do from this moment on wards. Glenn was thinking along the same lines as he shut the trunk of the car. “How far from the prison are we?”

I shrug to begin with, but try to claw back some recognition. “That farmhouse is what like, an hour back west?” He nods, “And how many miles was it to there?”

“I can't work that out right now.” He whines, kicking at a stone with blood stained trainers.

“But hours wise? We had so many stops...” It had been a long few days. “If we were to leave now...”

“Not tonight. Put it that way. No way you're up for that distance anyway.” He offers, although it's kindly put. He's right, I feel dead on my feet. I want nothing more than to fall asleep and it's not fair to expect him to drive such a distance himself. It had been a bad day for both of us. “They'll worry if we're not back.”

I watch that concern wash over his features but in the end he shrugs. “We'll go as far as the farm house, it's starting to get dark now anyway. Grab a few hours and start off as soon as it get light?”

The farm house wasn't clean but it was in one piece, and it was clear of anything, living or dead.