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Chapter 28 - Waiting, Late and Teaching

 

I got up from the table in the cafeteria with a jolt, my heart hammering against my chest. Amy, Yuki, and George looked at me in surprise, but I said nothing. I couldn't just sit there, stewing over Alex's decision.

What would he do with that teacher? Would he really cast him out onto the streets, condemning him to a slow death among the zombies?

The idea both intrigued and terrified me. Tim had exploded in 'rage,' and I... I just wanted to understand. I wanted to see with my own eyes what kind of man Alex truly was in this crumbling world.

I left the cafeteria, the cool air of the hallway hitting me like a reminder that the chaos wasn't just outside. The fluorescent lights flickered dimly, saving energy just as Alex had ordered us to.

My footsteps echoed on the linoleum floor, scarred with dried bloodstains and hurried footprints. I held my makeshift spear in my right hand: a broomstick with a knife duct-taped to the end, improvised but effective.

Alex had taught me to use it that very morning, during the building sweep.

"Aim for the head, always," he had told me in that calm voice, as if he were explaining how to change a lightbulb.

When I reached the main entrance, I stopped for a moment to take in the scene.

The barricade that Tim and the others had built earlier was a masterpiece of improvisation: overturned tables, stacked chairs, metal doors reinforced with chains and padlocks. They had left narrow gaps to move through, like passages in a maze—just wide enough for someone agile to pass without taking the whole thing apart.

The afternoon sun filtered through the cracks, painting the air in a dusty orange. Outside, the high school courtyard looked like a cemetery: puddles of clotted blood, papers scattered by the wind, and in the distance, the smoking city skyline.

I noticed a subtle movement in a section of the barricade, near the main gate. A low growl, like a wounded animal. I approached cautiously, my pulse quickening. Two zombies were trapped there; their putrid bodies pressed against the wire mesh.

One was a man in a janitor's uniform, his jaw hanging grotesquely; the other, a woman in office clothes, her eyes cloudy and vacant. They twitched weakly, drawn by my presence, but the barricade kept them at bay.

I remembered what Alex had explained to us: these weren't movie monsters; they were people infected by that cursed virus, the same one that had turned the world into a hellscape in just one day. They bite, they infect, and they only die if you destroy the brain. They don't feel pain, they don't think—only hunger.

I'll admit a shiver ran down my spine, but I didn't panic. I wasn't yesterday's pampered girl anymore. I gripped the spear with both hands and moved toward the closest one, the janitor. I aimed precisely, just as Alex had shown me: a quick, direct thrust through the gate, straight to the eye.

The tip sank in with a wet crunch but got stuck in the skull. For a second, panic threatened to overwhelm me—what if it didn't come out? —but I took a deep breath and twisted the spear hard, feeling the bone give way. The zombie collapsed, hanging from the barricade like a dirty rag. Dark, viscous blood dripped from the tip of my weapon.

Without wasting time, I turned to the second one.

I recalled Alex's efficiency during the building sweep: fluid movements, no wasted energy. Imitating him, I launched an upward blow, puncturing the woman's temple. She fell with a soft thud, and silence returned, broken only by distant gunshots in the city, sirens wailing like distant laments, and the occasional scream that made my skin crawl.

I stood there, panting lightly, a wave of accomplishment washing over me. I had killed two more. Not for pleasure, but out of necessity. But the contrast was overwhelming: this oppressive silence inside the school walls, versus the chaos seeping in from outside.

The sirens faded on the horizon, the screams blended with the wind, and the world seemed to grow more distant, as if the barricade separated us not only from the zombies but from reality itself.

Yet the bloodstains in the courtyard—splatters on the asphalt, smears on the building walls, even inside the cafeteria and the gym—reminded me that our refuge had been a hell of its own. We had brought it under control: Alex with his pragmatism, Tim with his fierce loyalty, and I... I was just starting to adapt.

How much more could I change? What would I become if this lasted for weeks, months?

Just as I lost myself in these thoughts, I saw a figure approaching down the street outside. It was Alex, walking with a steady stride, his homemade spear in one hand and a bloody knife in the other. He noticed me from a distance, his eyes scanning the scene: the dead zombies at my feet, the spear in my hand. A slight nod of the head, a silent acknowledgment.

"Well done," he seemed to say without words.

For my part, I noticed the traces of dark, dried blood on his weapons, still fresh at some edges. I looked behind him, toward the direction where they had judged the teacher, that deserted street that now seemed like a hallway to oblivion.

What had happened there?

I said nothing, but the air between us was charged. I could see in his expression that he knew what I was thinking, and I guessed what he was: a cold, pragmatic calculation.

Alex stopped a few feet away, breaking the silence.

"I didn't kill him," he said directly, his voice low and grave, as if confessing something inevitable. "I just sped up his fate a little."

I nodded, feeling a knot in my throat. I didn't need details; the weight of what it implied was enough. I walked over, and on an impulse that surprised even me, I hugged him gently.

His body tensed in surprise—Alex wasn't one to show emotions easily—but he didn't pull away. I did it because I could still feel the echo of Alice's fear on my skin: her trembling, her shame, her panic as she confessed that the teacher had 'only' touched her.

In this world, where humanity was unraveling, acts like that couldn't go unpunished. I didn't know exactly what Alex had done—if he had pushed him to the zombies, or something worse—and I wouldn't ask. But I knew he had done it for everyone's safety, to protect what little we had left.

I pulled away, looking him in the eyes.

"Thank you," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper.

He blinked, still surprised, but understanding crossed his face. He nodded slowly.

"We need to speed up the high school's protections," he said, his tone shifting to a more urgent one. "Night is coming, and with it, danger. Let's secure everyone, because tomorrow is a new day... and a new journey."

I understood instantly what he meant: his mission was to get me out of here, to take me to my father's refuge, on the outskirts of the city. A part of me resisted—I didn't want to leave my friends, this group we had formed in the chaos—but another part was grateful. Motivated, even.

I nodded, feeling a new determination.

"Okay. Let's go."

We walked back together, the sun setting in a blood-red sky, the world outside roaring its warning.

The night would bring more zombies, attracted by the darkness and residual noise. But for now, we had a plan.

And I was changing. Step by step.

An hour later.

An hour before darkness completely engulfed the high school, I was walking with Marlon, Sophie, Minnie, and a few teachers along the inside perimeter of the walls. The air was cold, heavy with a metallic smell I couldn't identify: dried blood, sweat, or just the collective fear?

The concrete walls, splashed with teenage graffiti and now stained with traces of chaos, seemed taller in the twilight. Alex led our group, pointing with his homemade spear at the weak points of the structure. His voice was firm, almost mechanical, as he explained how to reinforce the main entrances and create traps to prevent zombies from crowding against the walls.

"You can use wires or low-slung ropes to trip them," he said, pointing to a section of the nearby fence by the football field. "If they pile up, the pressure will break any barricade, no matter how strong."

Marlon nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with a determination I hadn't seen in him before. Sophie and Minnie, on the other hand, seemed more nervous, their hands clenching the handles of their improvised weapons.

The teachers, led by Mr. Rivera, an older man with foggy glasses, exchanged skeptical glances. They said nothing, but their furrowed brows and clipped responses—"Understood, but that sounds complicated"—made it clear they considered Alex's ideas to be excessive.

I, however, couldn't help but think of all the zombie movies I had watched with George and Amy. In those stories, the ones who ignored practical advice were the first to die.

We had covered the entire perimeter, checking every corner. The main entrances already had solid barricades, though Alex insisted they could be reinforced with more furniture and metal. The auxiliary and maintenance entrances, which we had secured that afternoon, seemed to hold up for now.

As we walked, I noticed how Alex observed everything with an intensity that put my nerves on edge. He wasn't just inspecting; he was making sure this place could survive even if my father's help never arrived. The thought made me shudder.

What if they stayed here forever, trapped within these walls?

When we finished the last round, Alex gathered the adults in the main courtyard. He talked about rationing water and electricity, using the green spaces for long-term food planting, and combat techniques against zombies that didn't just rely on brute force.

"Ingenuity is your greatest weapon," he said, his gaze fixed on the group. "A zombie doesn't think. You do."

Marlon took mental notes, almost as if memorizing a script. The teachers, meanwhile, maintained that 'this won't last long' attitude. I wondered if they would ever understand the gravity of what we were facing.

An hour later.

Night fell like a heavy curtain, and the sirens sounded again in the distance, a reminder of the world collapsing beyond the walls. Unlike last night, when we were hiding in dark classrooms, we were now in makeshift dorms near the cafeteria.

The classrooms had been transformed with mattresses, blankets, and tables piled against the windows. The hum of the fluorescent lights and the murmur of phone conversations filled the air.

By some miracle, the electricity was still working, and the phone networks, which had been blocked yesterday, now allowed for brief calls. I heard Sophie talking to her mom, her voice trembling but relieved, and Minnie whispering promises to someone on the other end of the line.

The high school was almost self-sufficient, with water, electricity, and food for months if rationed, but gas was a problem. No one knew how long the supplies would last.

"I hope my dad can get them out of here," I thought as I walked down a first-floor hallway. I was walking through the halls, looking for my friends.

The day had been crazy, everyone running around, helping the wounded, reinforcing barricades, learning to fight. I felt exhausted, but my mind wouldn't stop. Suddenly, I saw Yuki running toward the bathroom, her face flushed. Intrigued, I followed her.

"Yuki? Are you okay?" I asked, entering after her.

The bathroom was cold, with a faint smell of disinfectant that couldn't cover the recent chaos.

She turned, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

"I got scared... I had an accident," she murmured, looking at the floor, ashamed. "I'm fine, I just need to clean myself up."

"Do you need help?" I offered, feeling a pang of empathy. Yuki had always been shy, and being in a new place, with all this, must have been overwhelming.

"No, thank you," she replied quickly, forcing a smile. "I'll be fine."

I nodded and left the bathroom, respecting her privacy. As I walked down the hallway, I saw Alex in the distance, walking with a relaxed posture, very different from the tense one he never seemed to abandon. I approached, my steps echoing on the linoleum.

"Have you seen Amy and George?" I asked.

"Second floor, room 204," he replied, his voice calm but firm. I was about to turn back when he stopped me with a gesture. "Emily, wait."

His tone changed, becoming more serious.

"We have to leave at dawn. Tim and I can only protect four people, including you. Get the ones who are coming ready. It can't be more."

I looked at him, my heart tightening.

Four people.

I knew what that meant: every extra person was a risk, a danger in a world where zombies weren't the only thing we feared. Images of the streets—blood, torn bodies, growls—flashed through my mind.

"I understand," I said, though my voice sounded weaker than I wanted. "Thank you, Alex. Goodnight."

I walked away, my mind spinning. Amy and George had to come with me. They were my best friends, the ones who had been by my side forever. But the fourth spot... Yuki.

I had only met her recently, but her vulnerability reminded me of myself just a day ago. I couldn't leave her behind, especially since she had only spoken to me since arriving at the high school a couple of days ago. Besides, according to what she said, her parents had practically abandoned her in the city and she was alone.

But what about the others?

Sophie, Minnie, Marlon... each had their own reasons to survive. But Alex was right: we couldn't take everyone.

The hallway was silent, except for the murmurs of phone conversations and the distant echo of a siren. I stopped in front of a boarded-up window, looking at the cracks where moonlight seeped in.

The world outside was a hell, but inside these walls, with Alex, Tim, and my friends, there was still hope. Tomorrow would be a new day, a new journey. And I would have to decide who would come with me, knowing that every choice could cost a life.

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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED

Hello everyone.

First, for those still reading the novel, I want to apologize for the delay in this chapter, and also for not giving any notice, but I was very exhausted with work last week.

Also, the other novel in the same universe also had to be delayed.

Well, back to the novel.

This time we had a somewhat calmer chapter, as in the next one Emily, Alex, Tim, and some friends will set out to try to reach the refuge of Ron, Emily's father.

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Read my other novels

#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future (Chapter 80)

#Vinland Kingdom: Race Against Time (Chapter 92)

#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 9) (PAUSED)

You can find them on my profile.]

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