Her school blouse was half-unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of white lace underneath, and her hands were frozen mid-motion on the fabric. Her navy blue skirt was wrinkled, and her knee-high socks had fallen down to her ankles. She looked like she’d been in the process of changing clothes when I’d burst in.
For a mont, neither of us moved. The silence stretched between us, broken only by the distant moans of the infected and the sound of my own ragged breathing.
I slowly averted my gaze, trying to give her so semblance of privacy in this awkward situation. That’s when I noticed the shadow moving in my peripheral vision—soone else was in the room with us.
"Wait, Elena—" The blonde girl started to say.
"Uh!" I managed to grunt, but it was too late.
The second figure had already moved with deadly precision. Sothing hard and wooden connected with the side of my skull with a sickening crack. Pain exploded through my head like white-hot lightning, and the world tilted sideways before going completely black.
The last thing I heard was my own body hitting the floor.
Consciousness returned slowly, like surfacing from deep, dark water. The first sensation was pain—a throbbing, pulsing agony that radiated from the left side of my head down through my neck and shoulders. I could feel sothing warm and sticky matting my hair, and the tallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
I groaned softly, trying to focus my eyes. The world swam in and out of focus, shapes blurring together like watercolors in the rain. Gradually, two figures materialized before , and for a mont, I thought the blow to my head had given double vision.
But no—there really were two of them.
The girl I’d first encountered was still there, her ice-blonde hair now properly arranged and her blouse buttoned up. Her bright blue eyes watched with a mixture of concern and embarrassnt. But beside her stood another girl who looked almost identical—the sa ice blonde hair, the sa piercing blue eyes, the sa delicate features that belonged on a magazine cover rather than in a zombie-infested school.
The only difference was their hairstyles. The first girl had gathered her hair into a neat ponytail with a navy blue scrunchie. The second girl whom I caught in the middle of changing clothes wore her hair loose, cascading over her shoulders like a golden waterfall.
Twins. Beautiful, identical twins.
Even through the haze of pain and confusion, I couldn’t help but notice how stunning they both were. It seed like ever since this nightmare had begun, I’d been surrounded by gorgeous won—Emily, Sydney, Rachel and Rebecca. Now these two had joined the collection of breathtaking survivors I’d sohow found myself connected to.
"You shouldn’t have hit him, Elena..." One of the girls said with a sigh. She was adjusting her loose hair with a scrunchie as she said that. "Look at him—he’s hurt."
Elena shifted uncomfortably, still gripping what I now realized was a broken chair leg. The wood was stained dark with my blood, and she held it like a weapon, ready to strike again if necessary. "I—I thought he was an infected and was going to bite you, Alisha!" sShe replied, her voice high with panic and justification. "He just burst in here while you were... while you were changing!"
The reminder of the awkward circumstances of our eting brought a fresh wave of embarrassnt to both sisters. Alisha’s cheeks flushed pink, while Elena’s grip tightened on her makeshift weapon.
I tried to move, to sit up or at least shift to a more comfortable position, but sothing was wrong. My arms wouldn’t respond properly, and when I looked down, I realized why. My hands were bound behind my back with what appeared to be strips of fabric torn from a school uniform—the material was rough and cut into my wrists with every movent.
"Wait, he’s awake..." Alisha observed, her voice dropping to a whisper as she noticed my eyes focusing on them.
Elena imdiately raised the bloodied chair leg again, her knuckles white where she gripped it.
I looked between them, trying to project calm despite the throbbing in my skull and the precarious situation I found myself in. My throat felt dry as sandpaper, and when I spoke, my voice ca out as a raspy whisper.
"Can you release now..." I asked them, trying to keep my tone non-threatening despite the pain. "Please. I’m not infected—I’m just trying to survive, sa as you."
"Do you think we’ll believe you?" Elena asked with a suspicious gaze. She raised the broken chair leg higher, her knuckles white against the splintered wood. The makeshift weapon trembled slightly in her grip—whether from fear or adrenaline, I couldn’t tell.
"If I were infected, I would’ve already turned by now," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the throbbing pain in my skull. "Just release . I need so water." My eyes drifted to my backpack, carelessly tossed aside near the overturned desk.
Alisha—the one who seed to be the voice of reason between the two sisters—nodded slowly as she approached my bag. Unlike Elena’s frantic energy, Alisha moved with the careful precision of soone who’d learned to think before acting. She rummaged through my things finally extracting my water bottle.
"Wait, Alya!" Elena’s voice cracked with panic as she watched her sister approach . The chair leg wavered in her grip. "What are you doing?"
"He’s not infected yet, Elena. Don’t worry." Alisha said. She moved closer, ignoring her sister’s protests.
"I’m not infected at all, to begin with," I grumbled, frustration bleeding into my words. The rope around my wrists chafed, and my head felt like soone had used it as a punching bag.
Alisha crouched down beside . Up close, I could see the exhaustion etched into her features—dark circles under her eyes, a tightness around her mouth that spoke of exhaustion and constant vigilance. She twisted open the bottle cap with steady hands and brought it to my lips.
I tilted my head back, letting the cool water flow down my parched throat. It tasted like salvation—clean and pure in a world that had beco anything but. I drank greedily, feeling so of my strength return with each swallow.
When I finished, Alisha pulled the bottle away but remained crouched beside , studying my face with intelligent eyes. There was sothing analytical about her gaze, as if she were solving a complex equation and I was one of the variables.
I wasn’t complaining the last. It wasn’t everyday, you could see such a very pretty face close. If I had to guess she was from Eastern European origins.
"Who are you exactly?" Alisha asked. "You’re not a student at Lexington, are you?"
"Ryan. I ca here with friends," I explained, choosing my words carefully. "One of them is a Lexington student. She thought if we could get here and find so way to communicate, we might be able to call her father. He could get us to safety."
"A student from here?" Alisha’s eyebrows rose slightly. "What’s her na?"
I shifted uncomfortably against my bonds, the fabric cutting into my wrists. "Can you release first?" The request ca out more irritated than I’d intended, but my patience was wearing thin.
"Don’t!" Elena’s voice pitched higher, the chair leg raising again. "He could be infected, Alya!"
That did it. The last thread of my composure snapped like a rubber band stretched too far.
"I am not fucking infected, you idiot!" The words exploded from , echoing off the classroom walls with surprising force.
Elena froze mid-gesture, her mouth falling open in shock. Even Alisha blinked, taken aback by my sudden outburst.
I sighed regretting right after to have let my emotions burst out like that.
When Elena finally recovered, her face flushed red with anger. "W-what did you just say?"
"I called you an idiot," I said, eting her glare head-on. "You nearly killed without even checking whether I was infected or not."
"Y-you barged in here like one of those things!" Elena shot back, her voice rising. "What did you think I would do?"
"I was running from an infected, you idiot!" The word slipped out again, and I saw her face darken further.
"Stop calling an idiot!" Elena’s knuckles went white around the chair leg, and for a mont, I thought she might actually swing it.
"Elena, calm down." Alisha glanced at her sister sternly. She sighed deeply before she turned back to , her expression apologetic. "I’m sorry for my sister’s... aggressive behavior. But you have to understand—over the past two days, we’ve had dangerous people attack us. They saw this chaos as an opportunity to kidnap us or do... worse things."
Oh, of course. I should have realized sooner.
Once again, Lexington Charter was exclusive—every student here ca from elite families, wealthy backgrounds, powerful connections. In a world suddenly stripped of law and order, these kids would be pri targets. Kidnapping, ransom, or worse—the apocalypse would bring out the absolute worst in humanity.
"If you’re still here, I assu you dealt with them?" I asked, my anger cooling into sothing more like understanding.
"Yes," Alisha nodded, but a shadow passed over her face. "But so people didn’t have that chance." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "And we think others might still co after us."
I could see it now—the way both sisters carried themselves, the hypervigilance, the quick resort to violence. They’d seen things, done things, that no high school student should ever have to face.
"I understand your concern," I said, my voice softer now. "But I think you can see I’m not like them. I’m a high schooler too—from Abraham Lincoln High School."
Alisha studied my face for a long mont, as if reading the truth written in my expression. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her, because she finally began working at the knots around my wrists.
The fabric bonds were sloppy, improvised from torn school uniforms. With my recovered strength, I probably could have broken free on my own with my current strength, but it was better to let them release willingly. Trust had to start sowhere.
As the last of the restraints fell away, I stood slowly, groaning as my muscles protested. Alisha stepped back, giving space but keeping her eyes on .
"Thank you," I said, then reached up to touch my throbbing head. My fingers ca away sticky with blood, and I stared at the crimson sar across my palm.
I looked up at Elena, who imdiately flinched and turned away, guilt written across her features like a confession. Her fists clenched at her sides, the chair leg finally lowering.
Under different circumstances, I might have been furious. But seeing the trauma etched into both their faces, the way they moved like hunted animals, I felt my anger drain away. They’d been through hell, and sohow, they’d survived it.
Though I had to admit, despite everything, Elena looked too cute with that guilty expression painted across her features. The way her cheeks flushed with embarrassnt, how she couldn’t quite et my eyes—there was sothing disarmingly vulnerable about it. Even streaked with dust and exhaustion, she was undeniably beautiful.
Beauty was sure a very powerful weapon...
"You said you ca with friends?" Alisha’s voice broke through my wandering thoughts,. "Are they..." She trailed off, but the unspoken question hung heavy in the air between us. Dead. Infected. Gone.
"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "We got separated when one of the infected jumped . They went ahead to the third floor while I got dragged down to the first. When I managed to escape, I ran into you two."
"Third floor?" Alisha raised an eyebrow, sothing shifting in her expression.
"Yeah, the library. It was the closest safe-looking spot we could find, and we figured we could barricade ourselves in there." I searched her face for any sign of what she was thinking. "It is safe, right?" The question ca out more hopeful than I’d intended, tinged with the desperation I’d been trying to hide.
The library had been our best guess, our last resort. If it wasn’t secure, Sydney and the others had walked into a trap...
"No, it’s safe," Alisha said, and I felt my shoulders sag with relief. "Actually, it’s the only safe floor in the building. We and the others have been staying there ever since we cleared out the few infected that had gotten in."
Wait. Others?
"Others?" I asked, surprised. "How many of you are there?"
"Around thirty?"
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