once-gleaming floors.
Before continuing onward, Mike reached down to the sheriff’s body and quickly searched it for more rounds, finding them in a small pouch secured to the man’s belt. Unfamiliar with guns, having fired his first shots that very day, he had to rely on the skills of the teens with him that regularly hunted with their families. He cringed slightly when Blaine snapped the action back into place and returned the fully loaded gun to him.
Scanning their surroundings, Mike was relieved that the sound had not attracted unwanted attention. Further down the hall, they found the remains of the three officers that had tried in vain to hold back the crushing wave of attackers. Two of the boys, Blaine and Derrick, retrieved the firearms from among the bodies as well as four full magazines of ammo.
Forcing himself not to get sick, and seeing the others fight the same internal battle, Mike carefully maneuvered his way through the carnage to the main office. As expected, the phone lines were down, thus eliminating the easiest route to a rescue. Through the large glass-less window that faced the parking lot, he saw the three patrol cars that sat idly outside the building’s front doors.
“Blaine, your dad’s a reserve deputy, right?” Mike asked the boy.
“Yeah, why?” replied the tall, well-built eighteen year old who intended to enlist in the Marines immediately after graduation.
“Those patrol cars have shotguns and shells in them, don’t they?” Mike continued his questioning, an idea taking shape in his mind.
Understanding his point, Blaine confirmed the assumption and informed them that there were usually a few rifles and shotguns in each cruiser. The weapons, however, could only be unlocked from their storage with a key—a key that Blaine would recognize easily.
As he and Derrick made their way back to the slain officers to search for the keys, Mike went to the front doors and surveyed the front courtyard. Before him, the lawn was littered with the corpses of the infected the officers had managed to kill before being forced to retreat inside. Walking aimlessly among them were several bloodied figures, heads severely cocked to one side. He counted seven within sight, but worried how many others remained unseen. It might be too risky to go out with guns blazing , he thought.
The two youths returned, their smiles signifying a successful search of the bodies. Mike quickly detailed the plan he had formed. Blaine, Jenni, and the other boy—who he learned was a freshman named Josh Sorenson—would make for the cruisers and retrieve the weapons, while Mike and Derrick would provide cover fire.
Now armed with two guns apiece, they kept a vigilant eye on the infected, as the others crouched low to the ground and headed for the cruisers. Mike could feel the nervous beads of sweat falling down his face. The sun hung low amidst the clouds, coloring the sky with faint tones of pink and red. Each of the three students had reached their respective targets, and he could see them unlocking the weapons from the center consoles of the cruisers. With a hesitant sigh, he hoped that the mission could continue without raising the interests of the infected that milled about in the courtyard.
As the three scavengers made their way back, arms heavy with the stolen weaponry, they struggled to remain crouched and hidden from view. The broken glass that scattered across the pavement caused Josh to misstep and fall to the ground with a loud clatter. Almost in unison, the creatures turned towards the break in the late afternoon silence. The same growls and screams that had chilled Mike’s bones preceding his barely survived attack now echoed off the brick walls of the school.
Derrick wasted no time in firing at the infected that now bore down on them. An experienced hunter, his shots hit their intended targets with much greater success than Mike’s own inexperienced aim. Within seconds, Derrick had brought down three of
Before continuing onward, Mike reached down to the sheriff’s body and quickly searched it for more rounds, finding them in a small pouch secured to the man’s belt. Unfamiliar with guns, having fired his first shots that very day, he had to rely on the skills of the teens with him that regularly hunted with their families. He cringed slightly when Blaine snapped the action back into place and returned the fully loaded gun to him.
Scanning their surroundings, Mike was relieved that the sound had not attracted unwanted attention. Further down the hall, they found the remains of the three officers that had tried in vain to hold back the crushing wave of attackers. Two of the boys, Blaine and Derrick, retrieved the firearms from among the bodies as well as four full magazines of ammo.
Forcing himself not to get sick, and seeing the others fight the same internal battle, Mike carefully maneuvered his way through the carnage to the main office. As expected, the phone lines were down, thus eliminating the easiest route to a rescue. Through the large glass-less window that faced the parking lot, he saw the three patrol cars that sat idly outside the building’s front doors.
“Blaine, your dad’s a reserve deputy, right?” Mike asked the boy.
“Yeah, why?” replied the tall, well-built eighteen year old who intended to enlist in the Marines immediately after graduation.
“Those patrol cars have shotguns and shells in them, don’t they?” Mike continued his questioning, an idea taking shape in his mind.
Understanding his point, Blaine confirmed the assumption and informed them that there were usually a few rifles and shotguns in each cruiser. The weapons, however, could only be unlocked from their storage with a key—a key that Blaine would recognize easily.
As he and Derrick made their way back to the slain officers to search for the keys, Mike went to the front doors and surveyed the front courtyard. Before him, the lawn was littered with the corpses of the infected the officers had managed to kill before being forced to retreat inside. Walking aimlessly among them were several bloodied figures, heads severely cocked to one side. He counted seven within sight, but worried how many others remained unseen. It might be too risky to go out with guns blazing , he thought.
The two youths returned, their smiles signifying a successful search of the bodies. Mike quickly detailed the plan he had formed. Blaine, Jenni, and the other boy—who he learned was a freshman named Josh Sorenson—would make for the cruisers and retrieve the weapons, while Mike and Derrick would provide cover fire.
Now armed with two guns apiece, they kept a vigilant eye on the infected, as the others crouched low to the ground and headed for the cruisers. Mike could feel the nervous beads of sweat falling down his face. The sun hung low amidst the clouds, coloring the sky with faint tones of pink and red. Each of the three students had reached their respective targets, and he could see them unlocking the weapons from the center consoles of the cruisers. With a hesitant sigh, he hoped that the mission could continue without raising the interests of the infected that milled about in the courtyard.
As the three scavengers made their way back, arms heavy with the stolen weaponry, they struggled to remain crouched and hidden from view. The broken glass that scattered across the pavement caused Josh to misstep and fall to the ground with a loud clatter. Almost in unison, the creatures turned towards the break in the late afternoon silence. The same growls and screams that had chilled Mike’s bones preceding his barely survived attack now echoed off the brick walls of the school.
Derrick wasted no time in firing at the infected that now bore down on them. An experienced hunter, his shots hit their intended targets with much greater success than Mike’s own inexperienced aim. Within seconds, Derrick had brought down three of
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