Last Dawn of a Horde - Chapter One: Pandemic

LAST DAWN OF A HORDE

Chapter One: Pandemic

~John~

            We all huddled on the Principal's Office, and opened the TV inside. We haven't been inside the Office for weeks, and been here just last month, enough time for the Principal, Gregory Guns, to give out college applications for us.

            Unlike the last time our class was here, everyone wasn't as relaxed as the time we were filling in information forms—everyone was deranged before the TV. Huddled to the polished floor, which was now full of grime and blood. Who has to be so conservative right now? None of us even knows if we are still about to live.

            Hungry for the news, barely one talks. Just me. The class president. To whom some clings on. But who knew I was just as afraid as they were? Afraid that I'll never see my family and friends outside the school anymore? No, I told myself to hold back. It was hard, life almost depended on me. Or maybe to the ones who can carry more than their own life.

            So I consumed myself on the needs of others—emotional assessment, stress debriefing—because that's where I know I do well. I know I can pursue my dream someday to be a psychologist. But now, this strange happening seems to cloud my dreams up, making them barely possible.

            Of course, the chances of us surviving aren’t as wide as passing one class quiz, or the probability of winning lottery. No, once you let the truth swallow you, it's your end. You'll end up faster than letting the creatures eat your innards alive.

            About half of us were crying and most was the girls. They can't accept the chance their families weren't alive since this morning. A few boys held their tears, and almost scream to themselves they are to die. But really, what happened this past four hours? Those four hours of terror, blood-curdling screams filling up the once-peaceful ambience of the school. We have no idea how many students like us were still alive—probably they are still if they were clever enough, or their whereabouts. So in short words, we turned out to be so selfish.

            To mention, I see everyone inside the Office wasn't just our class. There are a few students whom I didn't recognize. Some of my classmates begged to let their friends to stay with us, although this Office wasn't to hold more than a hundred people—Principal Guns had so many things in his office like hanging guns, rare artifacts, and old newspapers. Counting everyone inside, we are about forty-five. Forty-sixth is me.

            After convincing one crying classmate, Sophie that everything will be alright, my best friend, James, who was sitting next to the TV, gasps, and says, "Guys! Here's the news! Headlines!"

            We listen to the headline reports. All of us, who are still in a correct mind, gave all ears to the reporter.

            "At about eleven in the morning, hell seems to break loose on every street of the country. From as far as we have gathered, one unknown, foreign virus is to blame. Earlier updates show some streets in Burgundy Avenue, near the famous school, the Joseph's University, that one strange-looking woman was walking so slow on the road, and entered the University, attacked the guard, and then—"

            The reporter was cut off, as James, turned off the TV. Tears fill his eyes, but they don't fall. He blurts out at me, "I told you, John! Those brain-eating creatures are zombies!"

            His words hang in the air, and then later, sent almost the whole class in a flurry of panicked voices.

            Zombies. No matter how hard I try to convince myself on his theory, it seems it wasn't even possible.

            I've seen a lot of movies involving unearthly creatures came to earth and eat mankind, but no matter how real they look, I never believe in them. Well, maybe until now. The kind of vomit I want to puke these last hour reminds me seeing bloody beings eat up someone's flesh and brains, isn't something nice to see every day. Of course, almost all of us were interested in man-eating creations. In movies or reality—teens like us likes brutality. Whereas in reality, they turn into deranged people sitting on a corner, until something eats them up too.

            We like brutality—fighting or combat in any type, because it's a way stress comes out of us. And that's fun—watching pitiful fictional people in movies die swimming in their own blood.

            "Z-zombies? B-b-but h-how?" One classmate, Rose mumbles. I get to notice her hands were pressing on both of her ears. I thought she was really afraid, hearing groans and screaming people outside, until I realized one moment ago, she just watched her little brother got eaten by the beings.

            "We're all gonna die!"

            "I want to go home!"

            "Oh, no! It's all our end!"

            Several yells fill the room, and only Den, another classmate, hushed them all up. "We will all die if you don't shut your mouths off for a while!"

            "I d-don't know," I tell them, because I really don't. I just remember things before this inhuman chaos happened...

            Friday morning. Everybody is so excited about this day. Last day of the week, to be followed by the week-long vacation. Just in the first subject, Literary Arts, we're all so bothered by the thought of one long vacation.

            I was always seated next to the windowsill. The room is air-conditioned, so the glass fogs once my warm breath creeps on it. I wasn't just bored or I didn't like the subject. It's just I feel something's wrong with the day. Not the very hot temperature outside, where a few varsitarians are practicing, or not the voice of our teacher, Mr. Riggins, which wasn't so lively today. Yes, who wouldn't be so sad—their salary to be decreased because of a single week.

            No, I just tend to notice things from today. 6:42 on my watch, and this was early enough for my best friend, James, to have a tandem with me in destroying one classmate's morning. Just for laughs.

            "How about Andrea? She looks so sick today, look—" James tells me, and points the girl nearest to the door, with waist-length hair. James and I always tease her because we know she can't fight us, and always resists our childishness.

            "Why her?" I ask him. If there's a classmate to tease, not only the long-haired girl is available. There's Rich, a fat boy with his neck covered by his cheek-fat, whom we used to push around because his balance wasn't as stable as what we slim persons have. He ends up tumbling after.

            There's Matthew, a small guy with glasses. For us, he's not nice to be with, and his face wasn't as nice as what we call friends have, if you know what I mean.

            So just seeing our classmates, we knew fun isn't as hard to reach as the simple geometry quiz we have yesterday.

            Only one moment, my eyes seem to freeze on the school gates down our room. I get to see it and the guardhouse with the guard, which we nicknamed Roger, a lot because I'm always bored, and always wants a small adventure.

            One bloody woman in a long, white dress enters through the guard house. And there's Roger, running towards the woman, her hair covering her face entirely. I was just a little bothered—she wasn't responding, and she walks like a drunken party-girl. Only that her dress was splashed with a red wine. No, she's not from a party when you look up from here; I see her feet wearing nothing but a layer of grime and dirt; she begins to notice Roger, who's so eager to assist her, and started pummeling her seemingly heavy arms.

            "What the," I whispered to myself. But that whisper was so loud amongst the silence, so Mr. Riggins called my attention.

            From the windowsill, my eyes shifted to his angry ones. Sternly, he says, "Aren't you listening, Eddington?"

            "W-why, sir?" I ask back frantically. Was I so deep in my thoughts? That I was called and I didn't hear anything?

            "Sit down," he says angrily. "You got a zero for today's recitation."
            I didn't mind him; it was only James who spoke to me after.

            "He called you," James says. "I've nudged you three times."

            "I don't know," I say, then turn my head back on my windowsill, and to the small commotion between one strange woman and Roger on the school grounds.

            To my absolute shock, the woman was gone, and Roger was fallen on the ground. Seconds later, blood starts to spread from his back. Looking on another angle, I was so horrified to see the left side of his neck, the one not easily seen without standing from my seat, had a big chunk of flesh missing, and blood was flushing out of him.

            "NO!"

            I looked around the class, and they were surprised at my motion. James was whispering to me, "What happened?"

            I ignored the whole class, with Mr. Riggins, completely, and turned to the windowsill again. I searched for the woman; that in the crucial seconds Mr. Riggins called my attention, was gone, and left Roger in his own pool of blood.

            "What the hell is wrong, Eddington?" Now Mr. Riggins dropped his book on the table, and marched up his way to me. "If you don't want to be in my class—" he reached me, and grabbed me by the arm, which wasn't allowed and it's against student rights. "—you are free to go!"

            "No, no! R-Roger, t-the g-guard! He's killed!" I blurt out, and that's when Mr. Riggins let go of my arm, and makes his way to my windowsill to check it for himself. I hope he doesn't get a heart attack on his early age.

            "What are you talking about, Eddington?" Mr. Riggins takes a final look at me. "If this is a complete childish hoax, I swear I'll send you to a week—"

            He's cut short—his right hand cupped his mouth, and almost fell on his knees if it wasn't for James. I hope he gets to see I didn't lie. And he did.

            "W-what happened, Eddington?" He yells at me, and I can almost see the veins on his face.

            I quickly went to where he stands and shoved him out of the way. By time, blood inside me gets hotter—in slight fear and anger to him.

            All other students stood up, and they poked their noses on the glass. At the exact point my classmates utter a deafening scream; all other students in the building who must've seen it in their own rooms cried and screamed their head off.

            I wasn't one of them. Instead, my eyes searched for that woman—who surely did this. And she was strange enough to raise suspicions. Why haven't the other students in their rooms under ours noticed it before I can? Now I know why. Only seniors are taking breaks after their second subject, and the freshmen, sophomores, and juniors must be on their way to the cafeteria, a building in the school near the classrooms. Maybe I was the one who noticed it because our room is located not so high from the ground, and the other seniors are just about to be curious, and see it for themselves.

            "I ask you, Eddington, what happened?" repeats Mr. Riggins.

            Unable to see where the strange killer woman was, I quickly told him the details.

            "T-the guard, h-he saw one weird woman, and tried to assist her, and then—she must've killed him!" I tell him.

            Not long enough he was to ask if I saw her do it. But he stopped himself—he knew it on order, and it was because of him that I didn't see it.

            He was speechless, so I turn to the windows again. Andrea, the long-haired girl says frantically, "He's dead!"

            There were other reactions, but I didn't hear it, because I came to my senses.

            Roger the guard is bloody. Chunk of flesh was missing from his neck, like it was just bitten. Bloody woman. Her footprints, in gleaming red, led to this building's entrance. Just below our room.

            "She's entering the room halls!" I yell, and there's another cry of pain just below us. Help! is what I hear.

            A big regret we agreed on keeping just one guard. Now their purpose is so prominent.

            In just a short time, everyone was disarrayed—the students began to panic, and starts to scream things like "Murderer!" or "There's a killer!" I hate it—it prevented me to think clearly. The chairs were rumbled, even though Mr. Riggins, who looked scared too, tries to calm his class.

            "Class, we don't need to panic!"

            But no one heard him. Some of us opened the door, and some got their things and themselves out of the room. Now what? There's a killer on the loose, and probably, it's killed a few students downstairs who are about to eat on the school cafeteria.

            I was the only one left on the windowsill, so still and quiet, even though James got his bag and asks me to go now. But I didn't. Mr. Riggins got a few students of the room out, insisting there was an emergency going on, until it's only me and James. My best friend never leaves me, either.

            The teacher shouts at us, "What are you two doing there? Get out now!"

            "No," it's all I can say.

            Hairs on my back stood up, and my lungs were to stop receiving cold room air, as my eyes were fixed at Roger, whom I think is already dead by the volume of injury he got. Roger scoops himself up from his own blood, and once on his feet, he started to walk like the strange woman before used to. After a few steps, he stops, looking like he's searching for something—his head going at every angle.

            James stood beside me, and held his mouth, too.

            "Eddington! Stan! Last call or I'll grab your side burns on the way here!" Mr. Riggins yells at us again, his left hand at wrapping around the door knob. "Eddington, don't let them reach the hole!"

            Let's say I ignored him.

            Roger below raised his head, and he seems like he was looking at us—the last students on their room probably. He was to resume walking wearing his bloodied uniform, when he turns his head down until it falls down from his neck, then to the grounds and finally it crashed into a red, disgusting pulp. I expect him to fall back on the ground, but he continues to walk, headless.

            "Let's go!" I tell James after I quickly got my bag from my seat. I was to vomit, but I didn't permit it. Mr. Riggins, who was a scaredy one too, disappeared from his stand beside the door. On the hall, many students were making their way down the stairs, to the ground floor.

            A few classmates of mine were crashed to us, about seven girls, including Andrea, whose neatly-combed hair was sent into a frenzy.

            "C-can we go with you?" Andrea asks.

            Without saying anything, I pull her wrist and the others followed us with a run. After using elbows against panicking students on our way to the base ground floor, the nine of us were standing amongst other students.

            Just next to the entrance, hundreds were watching Roger; the headless guard makes his slow entrance. But I didn't notice, the strange woman from earlier was sitting on the floor, doing something none of the students hushed in terror can see, because she had her back at us. She's picking something from the floor with her hands, and carries it to her mouth.

            A few girls and boys on the front lines yell, "She's eating someone!"

            Just as they yell, the bloodied woman turns her head sharply at us, her face disoriented—her eyes were pupilless; her cheeks clawed with something; and then her mouth full of blood and meat. Human meat.

            So it was a whole screaming time again. I forbid any of us nine to yell, so I had no problem with them, only that one classmate, named Jasmine, just puked on the floor, getting my shoes with a smelly thing too. Ugh.

            I see no familiar friend around, and then suddenly, the woman stood up, and reveals a flesh-disheveled body of one male student. To our surprise, the woman growls, and charged at one student. Adrenaline shoots through me and the other students, who decided to run outside as well. I can't pull out my classmates easily, and they're not convinced that we should go outside.

            "What if there are a hundred of those cannibals?" asks another girl, Ellie, and brought terror to the eight of us.

            "No, logically, if there's been a mob of cannibals outside, the students who've gone outside must be back here," I say. But no one who came out returned. Maybe they are already in safety.

            After being a genius in simple common sense, I convinced them to go out. But after passing through the man-eating woman and before we were truly outside, we were stopped by something to watch.

            The horrifying walking headless Roger starts to attack those who were attempting to go outside. Although he's headless, he attacks by chasing one student and then...beheading them.

            "What the hell! Look! The gates are closed!" James suddenly yells.

            All nine of us looked at the gates, where a few students attempted to open, and end up realizing the keys were at Roger's uniform. Some attempted to climb, but when they were high enough, they slip and fall back to the ground again, bones broken, probably. While the others kept on rummaging the gates, trying to open it for their escape. Unfortunately, they call for help, which was stupid because the school's alone on this street. No houses or guards outside to hear them and help us.

            "Come on!" I shout again, pulling them with me. I don't like having people on my responsibility even if I was their class president, but I also knew I don't want to see any of my senior classmates—the friends I have for years—dead in front of the selfish me.

            Roger was busy trying to behead one struggling girl, and the strange woman (or maybe a creature,) was busy on chewing fresh meat. Human meat. We're out, when one student wearing glasses calls, "T-the whole school staff is dead!"

            No, no. This can't be happening. If this was ever true, I'm about to be hopeless now.

            But it didn't stop me—I try to force myself into one more round of sprint, if it wasn't for my stamina running low. I was breathing heavily that somehow noises everywhere were clouded a bit.

            Den, one of the seven girls we got, points at something behind us. "L-look! The male student that crazy woman killed was standing up!"

            He did. Then pounced on another student. I got to ask myself, Is this even real? Because I only have dreams like these after I watch movies like this. But no, I see that once you are killed by the woman or the male junior student, you get turned into something like them. Hungry for flesh.

            "What are they?" asks Ellie.

            No one answered in fright, as I pull them away again. I came up into realizing that whatever those people are turned, they are certain to kill and make a cannibal out of their victim. There are already three deranged beings on the loose, and there are still a thousand of us students. Some must've locked themselves on their room, or got to the Offices and try to call for help...

            That's it!

            "We need to get to the Offices, they have telephones there, and we can call!" I tell them.

            Of course not all of them agreed. Sophie was another student, and said, "Have you heard that nerd? He says the whole staff was already dead! And the admins must've turned into cannibals as well!"

            I nod. She's right. Or maybe not.

            James points something, to where the Offices must've been. Without saying anything, his face well explains it.

            A horde of marching dead was making their way down from the Offices to up here, the main grounds. I recognized them well—some of it was teachers, and some were the school janitors. A thought of Mr. Riggins killing us passes my mind, and I know that who must've killed the school staff is clever, not the deranged-thinking one.

            "I hate to say this, but... That killer woman isn't alone," I muttered under my breath.

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