Chapter 17: Grade two Zombie

Chapter 17: Chapter 17: Grade two Zombie "Hey Bennett, why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?" Ethan’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts. She turned to see him jumping down from the jeep with his usual carefree expression. Betty shook her head and looked away, not in the mood to start another fight. ’Tch. If you were in my shoes, you’d understand why.’ Henry hopped out from the passenger seat, stretching his arms before reaching into the back. "Hey, is this the base you were talking about?" Betty glanced at him with wide eyes, as if he would shake his head, denying her. Henry nodded while walking behind the jeep, pulling out a box of food. "Yep. This is the place. What is something wrong?" "No, nothing. I was just asking." A frustrated groan slipped from Betty’s lips as they all began unloading the supplies. "Hey Bennett, help us out. Only one box left!" Ethan called from the jeep, holding two boxes in his hand. She nodded wordlessly and grabbed the last box. It felt oddly light in her hands—like carrying air instead of supplies. Ethan grinned and murmured playfully. "Don’t worry, I made sure to leave only one box. I know you can only hold one box because of your body health." Betty frowned in irritation as she took a step toward Ethan, making him take a running posture in fear. "hmph" Betty snorted and turned away from the jeep. Ethan sighed in relief, seeing her leave, ’thank god he didn’t beat me, I can tell he can beat the hell outta me seeing him fight after zombies’ As Betty stepped past the iron gates of the school, she turned to Ethan beside her and whispered, "So where are the survivors staying?" Ethan leaned closer and whispered back, "They’re in the basketball hall. We haven’t checked the main buildings yet—they could still be dangerous. This was the biggest school in the city, after all." Betty gave a small nod and took in her surroundings. The once-maintained campus was overrun with knee-high grass. Cracks spread across the pavement like spiderwebs, and the buildings were cloaked in moss and vines. The place looked abandoned for years. Her brows furrowed deeply. ’Why does it look like no one’s cared for this place in forever? According to the Tragic FL memories... the school was fine before the kidnapping.’ Betty stopped in her tracks, seeing them entering from backside of the building through a little iron door. ’This isn’t the main entrance...’ Betty shook her head, ridding herself of distracting thoughts, and followed the others through the back door. Inside, the school’s basketball hall was dimly lit—no electric lights, only flickering candles and the orange glow of fireplaces scattered around in various places. People huddled near the warmth, wrapped in worn blankets, their faces pale and tired. When they entered, a man quickly stood up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the supplies. "Ahh, thank god you came! We were about to faint from hunger!" David nodded. "Did the other team return?" The man sighed and ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. David narrowed his eyes. "What, they didn’t make it back?" "They did," the man replied grimly. "But... one of them got bitten. He’s locked up in that room now, his friends refuse to kill him, now he is a fully turned zombie." He pointed toward a closed room at the edge of the hall. Betty followed his gaze. A loud BANG echoed as something slammed against the door repeatedly. David’s face darkened. "That’s unfortunate, but we can’t risk the safety of everyone else. If he’s turned, we need to take care of it." The man looked at David, his voice dropping. "Yeah, we also know... but be careful, he’s not a lean and slow zombie. His speed is faster than any of us, and his strength is unreal. I have seen him holding the entire sofa with one hand when he was not turned." Betty’s eyes widened. Her jaw fell slightly open in shock, a bead of sweat slid against her forehead, making her wild hair cling to her head. ’What the hell? The apocalypse just started! How can a grade two zombie show up already?!’ "Betty! Watch out!" Calista’s voice suddenly screamed inside her head. Startled, Betty turned sharply—and her eyes went wide. A massive, hulking zombie had somehow crept up on her, and its huge fist was flying straight toward her face. ’W-What?!’ Instinct kicked in. She dropped the box and raised both hands and slammed her palms against the side of the zombie’s approaching fist, using its momentum to lift her body off the ground, sending herself rolling across the floor, dodging his fist. She landed on her side, heart pounding, and quickly scrambled back to distance herself. ’Hah... that was way too close!’ Betty’s POV: A hard gulp escaped my throat as my eyes fell on the broken door—the very one meant to keep the zombie locked inside. ’So that’s how he suddenly appeared...’ People had already scattered, hiding behind tables, audience chairs, or huddling near the walls, clutching their mouths to silence themself. But something felt... wrong. When I turned back to look at the zombie, a cold unease gripped my chest. ’Why is he only staring at me?’ "Graaewwww!""Str**ong... hu—man... ea*t..." ’H-He spoke?! That zombie... spoke?!’ He charged toward me so fast his own body looked like it could barely keep up with the momentum. I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding. I couldn’t fight him inside here. I had to lure him away. My eyes darted to the front entrance that is near me. Perfect. I sprinted toward it. "Graeerrrrt!!" "Wah—!" A giant hand swiped beside my shoulder, the force of it almost throwing me off balance. I twisted mid-run, narrowly dodging the strike and leaping sideways. The door was just ahead—I flung it open and bolted through. The zombie followed. ’Tch... he definitely has some kind of issue against me...’ While running, I don’t know what comes to me, I start blabbering. "Hey, big guy, why are you so bulky? You look like a cartoon character from a failed horror episode." Zombie didn’t even give a damn and continued chasing her. With a wry smile, Betty continued running away. At least I now know he can talk but can’t understand me.’