I was just thinking about going to the terrace to get so fresh air. You know, the usual "I need five minutes away from this madness" kind of mont.
But then I rembered the pigeons. Oh, the pigeons. Those little feathered demons were everywhere now, and honestly, they scared more than the zombies. At least zombies were predictable. Pigeons? They could fly. They could swarm. They could chirp to death.
I complained about it to Elliot, who, as usual, nodded like he was in so kind of nodding competition. Alex, on the other hand, sighed like she’d just heard the most boring thing in the world. "It’s okay," she said, trying to sound optimistic.
"Now we’ll stay double alert. Double alert ans double chances of being alive."
I stared at her, dumbfounded. Double alert? Double chances? What kind of math was she doing? If anything, double alert just ant double the paranoia.
But before I could say anything, the three newbies, who had joined us a few days ago, got all motivated by Alex’s nonsense. "Yeah, that’s our Alex!" one of them said, grinning like they’d just discovered the secret to eternal life.
Jake, the edgy sword kid who always carried around a blunt sword like he was auditioning for a zombie apocalypse movie, was looking at Alex in this weird, embarrassing way. Wait. Was that... a crush? Did Jake like Alex? Oh no. This was bad. Like, really bad. Crushes in a zombie apocalypse were like adding gasoline to a fire. Sure, it might burn brighter for a second, but then everything explodes.
I sighed and looked outside the window. The pigeons were having a feast on a zombie’s eyeballs.
The zombie, of course, didn’t care. It just stood there, letting the pigeons peck away like it was so kind of all-you-can-eat buffet.
I couldn’t help but wonder, what was life like for those zombies? Were they even alive? Were they dead? What even separated us from them? Intelligence? If so, then were zombies basically just wild animals?
I got stuck in this deep philosophical spiral for way too long. I an, who wouldn’t? When you’re surrounded by zombies and pigeons, you start asking the big questions. Like, what’s the aning of life? Why do pigeons exist? And why does Jake keep staring at Alex like that?
Elliot snapped out of my thoughts by throwing a piece of stale bread at . "Mira, stop overthinking. You’re making that face again."
"What face?" I asked, dodging the bread.
"The ’I’m about to solve the mysteries of the universe but also complain about pigeons’ face," he said, deadpan.
Alex laughed, and Jake’s face turned red. Oh no. It was definitely a crush. This was going to be a disaster.
I sighed again and looked back at the zombie outside. "You know," I said, "if zombies are just wild animals, does that an we should start a zombie zoo? We could charge admission. Two cans of beans to see the undead."
Elliot groaned. "Mira, no."
"Mira, yes," I shot back. "We could call it ’Zombieland.’ Or ’The Walking Zoo.’"
Alex snorted. "You’re ridiculous."
"And you’re double alert," I said, rolling my eyes. "Which, by the way, is not a real thing."
As the group laughed—even Jake, who was still sneaking glances at Alex—I realized that maybe, just maybe, we were going to be okay.
Sure, the world was overrun by zombies, pigeons were the new apex predators, and Jake’s crush on Alex was going to be a whole ss. But as long as we had each other, we could handle it.
And if not, well, there was always the zombie zoo idea.
****
We were just joking around, trying to lighten the mood because, let’s face it, if you don’t laugh in a zombie apocalypse, you’ll probably cry. Elliot, being Elliot, decided to drop one of his classic zombie jokes.
"Hey, you know why zombies don’t ever get fat?" he asked, grinning like an idiot.
"Why?" Alex asked, playing along.
"Because they only eat brains and let’s be real, none of us are exactly buffet material," Elliot said, gesturing to the group.
We all burst out laughing. Even Jake, who was usually too busy being edgy to laugh, cracked a smile. It was a terrible joke, but in that mont, it was exactly what we needed.
And then, of course, the universe decided to ruin it.
THUD.
The sound ca from outside, loud and heavy, like sothing big had just slamd into the ground. We all froze mid-laugh, the humor draining from our faces.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
It ca again, rhythmic and terrifying. My heart started pounding so hard I was sure it was trying to escape my ribcage. "What the hell is that?" I muttered, already dreading the answer.
We all rushed to the windows, peeking out cautiously. What we saw made our eyes widen and our blood run cold.
There, in the middle of the street, was a zombie. But not just any zombie. This guy was huge. Like, sumo wrestler huge. His body was grotesquely mutated, his skin stretched tight over rolls of fat, and his arms were thick enough to crush a car. He was running—yes, running—toward another zombie.
THUD.
He slamd into the smaller zombie with the force of a freight train, crushing it against the wall. The poor little zombie didn’t stand a chance. It was like watching a wrecking ball in action.
"What. The. Actual. F*ck," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Lila—the pink-haired newbie I’d started calling "Pink Fury" in my head, said, "That there looks like a mutated zombie. Ya know, like in the movies—they’re special. Smarter, stronger."
"Let’s call him Wrestler," I said, trying to lighten the mood even though my hands were shaking. "And I really, really hope he’s the only one."
Alex opened her mouth, probably to say sothing like, "Now we have to stay triple alert," but I cut her off before she could finish. "Shut up, dumbass," I snapped.
She blinked at , surprised. I’d never talked to her like that before, but honestly, I was stressed out of my mind. My brain was running on overdrive, and I didn’t have the patience for her optimistic nonsense right now.
"We’re so, so f***ed," Lila muttered, her usual fiery confidence replaced by sheer panic.
I ignored her and looked around the room. Everyone was panicking, even Alex, who usually had this calm, leader-like vibe had quieted down after I spoke rudely to her, and I just realized that it was my fault the leader had gone into panic mode too. Soone had to say sothing. Soone had to take charge.
"Guys, c-calm down," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "W-we need to push back... t-the fear if we want to survive. We’ve made it this far, right? We can handle one big zombie."
THUD. CLATTER. CLATTER. CLATTER. CLATTER. CLATTER.
The sound ca again, louder this ti, and closer. We all jolted, our heads snapping toward the window. Wrestler was gone.
"Where is he?" Elliot asked, his voice trembling.
And then it hit . If we couldn’t see him, it ant one thing: he’d slamd into the barricade.
CLATTER. CLATTER. CLATTER.
The sound of clattering benches confird my worst fears. The barricade was gone and zombies were about to enter the School
"Oh, hell no," Ben, the ever-optimist, whispered as he fell to his knees.
"Oh yes," I muttered, grabbing my Broom. "All hell’s about to break loose."
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