Books always talk about how heavy a person is when they are unconscious or dead. They chalk this added weight to the person not helping you lift them, but that never made sense to me. Their body weight is the same dead or alive, so how can they be heavier when dead? So I always wrote this factoid off as a way to depict the emotional toll associated with handling the dead.

  Now I know I was wrong. Bodies are so much heavier when they don't help you to carry them. It's unsettling how limp their bodies are. It almost feels disrespectful to even be touching them. Like I'm disturbing their rest or something.

  I avoid moving the ones I killed. I don't even know what depths of hell exist for murders that desecrater the corpses of their victims. All I know is that I want to avoid those depths. I accept that I will be going to hell for murder but I'd rather not make my case worse then it already is.

  We line the bodies against the wall adjacent to the door leading out of the classroom. This way if we try to leave the room or if anyone comes in, they don't have to step over or around any body.

  Taking a step back I look at the bodies lining the wall. Twentythree bodies in total line the wall. The majority are victims of cannibalistic classmates. I don't know why but we separated them from those that turned cannibal but we did.

  We probably should of uses gloves and masked up to move the bodies. Granted most of us are covered in blood already, so it probably wouldn't make a difference. If there is something to catch from moving the bodies we've already been exposed.

  Sebastian takes a desk and places it before the line of zombies. He grabs another and sets it next to the one he placed first. Soon enough we join in collecting the desks and placing them before the line of bodies. We fashion a wall of desks between us and the cooling bodies of our classmates.

  With the wall in place our silent, heavy work is done. The scent of copper is still heavy in the room and blood stains the carpet more often then it doesn't. Yet with the bodies out of the way and partially hidden we can almost convince ourselves that we are trapped in a room with dead bodies.

  "I think we should look for supplies." Hanna quietly suggests.

  The moaning from beyond the barricaded door is still present. However, it does appear to have diminished in volume. I don't know if our being quite has made them loose interest of or they've been pulled away by the sporadic scream plaguing our silence.

  The continued screams at least mean that there are other people still alive in the school. However, it also probably signifies the death of someone. As such non of us acknowledge the screams.

  "Isn't that disrespectful? I feel like we already were pushing the boundaries of the law by moving them. Going through their stuff feels like we are crossing a line. Right?" Abby whispers to Hanna.

  "We'd only look for essentials. Like water or food." Hanna explains.

  "Do we have too? Doesn't the emergency bucket have water and food?"

  "It has like two liters of water and a box of protein bars." Sebastian offers. "The supplies put in it are really only meant to last a few hours."

  "How long do we plan on staying here?" Abby asks.

  Hanna shrugs. "Does it matter? Better to prepare for the worst then to not."

  "I guess, but looking through their stuff and taking it just seems wrong."

  "You don't have to do it. You're right, we are crossing a line. But if my survival in on the line I doubt there are many lines I won't cross." A cold expression clouds Hanna's face.

  Silence returns to the room. I believe that the others were also contemplating what lines they are or aren't willing to cross in the sake of survival. I know that's what I'm thinking about.

  I've already crossed the line of murder. So how much further am I willing to go? I don't really believe my survival is all that important, however what about other people. If Abby or Sabrina were in immediate danger I know there is nearly nothing I wouldn't do to ensure their survival.

  I guess it doesn't matter. We can push comes to shove those choices are almost always made in the moment. Until we are in the kind of situation where lines are being drawn in our morals we can't really say how we'd react. I know I'd like to think that if Abby or Sabrina were in danger I would try to find a peaceful resolution to it. Yet recent history proves that I'm not that type of person. I'm a murderer just waiting for an excuse to be violent.

  Hanna stands up from where she was seated. She turns to Abby and gives her a look that I struggle to make out. It's almost pity but it's not.

  "I won't judge you for not being willing to look through their stuff. Honestly I respect you for it. However, I'm going to look for supplies. I'll only take things that are useful to us. Anything personal will be left where it is. Also, if I die you guys are free to take my shit. Free of any guilt."

  Hanna pivots and grabs the nearest bag to her. She starts searching it, leaving the rest of us to watch her. It only take a moment before Sebastian joins her.

  Should I join them? If we are stuck here long term it's something that we would probably wind up doing anyways. But isn't it too soon? Shouldn't we wait until we need to look for supplies?

  Yet, wouldn't it be wiser to know what supplies we have now instead of waiting until we need something? Knowledge is power and all that. If we know what supplies we have available to us now, we can better more informed plans.

  So, by that logic we should go through and figure out what we have available to us. But what right do we have to rummage through our dead classmates' stuff? What right do I have?

  Abby stares at our two classmates searching through bags. Her eyes are clouded with indecision. She bites her dry lips as she watches them, trying to argue her way into helping.

  Standing I join Hanna and Sebastian. It doesn't matter what rights I have. Abby is too nice of a person to be willing to go through our dead classmates stuff, yet she's also too nice to let others do the work for her. So I won't make her feel like she needs to make that choice. Finding a bottle of water I take it and hand it to Abby.

  "Rest up Abby. If things get dicey we'll need you at the top of your game to heal us."

  She takes the offered bottle and thanks me. Cracking open the bottle she takes a small sip before passing the bottle back to me.

  "You need to take care of yourself as well."

  Accepting the bottle I can't stop my heart from racing. Her blue eyes dazzle in a way that sends butterflies to my stomach. I don't deserve her friendship, her attention, to stare at her gorgeous eyes.

  Banishing that train of thought I take a sip of the water. The refreshing fluid coats my mouth and slides down my throat. Despite being room temperature it has to be some of the best tasting water I've ever drank. I know that's just the dehydration talking but it's a real struggle to not down the whole bottle.

  Forcing the bottle away from my lips I hand it back to Abby. She caps the bottle off and gives me a warm smile.

  "Looks like you needed that."

  "I guess I did."

  "Don't drink it all. We need to make what ever we have access to last until we can find more." Hanna chimes in.

  "Don't worry, we only took a small sip." Abby answers back.

  Returning to the work we quickly get through the rest of the bags in the classroom. The three of us ended up finding around four liters of water, two sandwiches, and a two extra proteins bars.

  Hanna also found a lighter that she decided to take. She argued that it's too useful of an item to leave behind. Since it was one of the generic gas station lighter none of us argued with her choice, however Derrick did grumble.

  Honestly I'm surprised he didn't throw a fit at us going through our classmates stuff. With how antagonistic he's been towards every other choice we've made it felt weird to not heard a peep from him. However, he seems to be completely distracted by his unconscious girlfriend. Which I can't really fault him for, but it feels strange to see him care for someone else that much.

  Maybe in my annoyance and anger I demonized him far more then warranted. Derrick catches me watching him and glares at me.

  "What do you want Orphan?"

  On second thought Derrick is a dick. We don't like Derrick.

  "It's not much." Hanna whispers after we gather the scavenged supplies into a single pile.

  "Sure it's no Trader's Joe, but what were you expecting. It's not like we're going to be here for days." Sebastian chimes in.

  "It's more then nothing so I don't think we can be too upset." Michael adds.

  "What's the plan with it?" Abby asks.

  "I don't know. It's clear to me we can't stay here in this room for any real length of time. So what do you guys think we should do with it?" Abby asks.

  "Depends on what we're going to do doesn't it? If we want to hide out in this room until someone saves us then we need to ration this. However, if we plan on making a run for it, then I say we fuel up while we have the opportunity to do so." Sebastian says.

  "So then I guess the real question is what do plan to do?" Hanna asks.

  "I'm getting out of here." I state.

  "I'm with Jason. I need to get out of here and staying locked in this room doesn't seem like a valid survival plan to me." Sebastian adds.

  Hanna turns to Abby, looking for her input. Abby looks uncomfortable from the attention for a moment.

  "I don't know." She shifts her weight from foot to foot almost as if she's rocking herself. "I don't like the idea of fighting but I don't like the idea of splitting up even more. I don't want to be here forever but I get it's dangerous right now."

  "That's not much of an answer Abby." Hanna states.

  "I'm sorry. I know it's not. I don't know what to do here." Her hands shake as she wraps her arms around herself. "I mean, we're just teenagers. What are we suppose to do in this situation?"

  "Wait for the adults. Duh." Derrick turns from Sandy to stare at us. "We aren't in a movie or anything dumb like that. This is real life, the adults will be figuring this out soon and on their way to help us."

  "Again guys, this isn't happening just here in this school. This is a city wide, if not world wide event. We can't rely on the assumption someone else will handle this and save us. No, we need to be proactive otherwise we might as well invite those zombies in to eat us." Hanna states while staring at Abby.

  "I know I know. I'm just…" Abby falls into silence as her gaze falls to the floor.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Behind Abby Sebastian's gaze locks onto mine. He mimes giving someone a hug and points at me then to Abby. I shake my head in answer to his request. She hasn't given me permission to hug her. So hugging her out of the blue would be rude right?

  Sebastian dramatically mimes sighing and shaking his head in disappointment. Returning his gaze to mine he emphatically mimes wrapping arms around something and points between Abby and I.

  Abby's shoulder's shake as she stifles back tears. I want to help her. To give her the support she needs. So why don't I? She hugged me earlier. So it should be fine, right?

  Tentively I lay a hand on her shoulder. Before I can offer her any support she whirls and throws herself onto me. The tears wet my shirt as she stops holding them back.

  "I want my daddy." She sobs into me.

  Her words come out almost childish to me, but I don't fault her for that. I'm surprised the others haven't broken down yet begging for their parents. I mean fuck, we watched and participated in the massicure of nearly our entire class.

  I want to be with Sabrina right now too. Part of it is so that I know that she's alive and can be there to protect her as best as I can. The other part of it is because I'm scared. I want to be comforted by her. To have her tell me everything is alright and to rub my back like she does when I have a nightmare.

  I don't want Abby to be scared. I want to get her back to Mr. Walker. As she sobs into me I know what I have to do. Protecting her isn't enough. She needs to be able to feel safe and without her father around I doubt she will ever feel that way again. I want her to feel safe, to not be so scared or stressed. I need to get her back to her father.

  "Don't worry Abby. I swear I'll get you back to your father." I promise her.

  Her beautiful blue eyes glance up at me. Tears flow freely from her eyes, causing her makeup to streak worse then it already has. The fear behind her eyes breaks my heart and as I stare into them I know that there is no way for me to get out of this promise.

  "Do you promise?" She asks, scared to have the hope that I'll do as I say.

  "Even if it's the last thing I do, I will make sure that you get back to Mr. Walker."

  She snickers at me.

  "Eww. Don't call him that, his name is George or dad. You know he wants you to call him George right?"

  "No he doesn't."

  "Yeah he does. You know the other day he asked me if you are scared of him, because you're always so formal with him. Are you scared of my dad Jason?"

  "What? No. I'm just being respectful."

  Abby laughs and pushes me away ending our embrace. She wipes her eyes free of tears.

  "You know, it's okay if you are. He's pretty intimidatingly sometimes. But I'll let you in on a little secret. He's just a giant teddy bear all scary on the outside but soft and cuddly."

  "I'm not scared of him."

  "Sure. Sure." She laughs. Her mirth dies out and she looks up at me. "Thank you. I needed that."

  "Anytime."

  And I mean it. I may hesitate at times, unsure on if I'm allowed to be the one to comfort her. But if she has no one else I won't let her suffer.

  "As sweet as that was it doesn't answer my question. Abby what do think we should do?" Hanna interjects.

  Abby's cheek redden before she turns away from me.

  "You guys are right. We can't stay here forever, so better leave while we have the energy to do so."

  "Alright and what of you Michael?" Hanna turns to the short nerdy boy.

  Michael's brown eyes stare out from behind a circular frame of glasses. He clenches his jaw as he mulls over what ever thoughts he has. Something behind his eyes harden as he answers the question.

  "We can't stay here. I don't know where we will be better off but I know being stuck in this room is a death sentence. We should eat while we can, all else fails we can always just hit up the nearest vending machine or even the cafeteria."

  "That settles it then. Let's divide this up between all of us. It's pretty late, so we should get some sleep and work on getting out of here in the morning." Hanna states.

  The two sandwiches are split into fourths each, leaving eight servings of sandwiches. Everyone takes a serving, with Sandy getting two servings. We figured out all of us, the injured person needed the extra nutrients the most. We each took a protein bar and a cup of water to pair with our meal.

  The food sits before me on a napkin someone found. I know I should eat, that I need the nutrients and calories to live. But everytime I entertain the idea of idea of eating my stomach churns and threatens to send bile through my throat.

  Every time I reach out I catch sight of my red-stained hands and stop myself. What right do I have to eat when three people no longer can because of my actions? On a logical level, I get Abby is right. That it was self-defense to an extent. But I know on a deeper level it was more to me.

  I wasn't fighting for my life. I was fighting to satisfy a dark desire of mine. I wanted to make them hurt. To vent my hatred and anger through acts of violence.

  I'm no hero who had to kill to end the suffering of others or myself. I'm someone who lost control and murdered people simply because the opportunity was there. Their attacking us was just the excuse I needed to let my savagery free.

  Someone like me doesn't deserve this food. They don't deserve to live when others are dead due to their actions. I don't deserve this food. I don't to live. But I have to keep going. At least until I can get Abby back with her father and after I confirm that Sabriana is okay. Then I can repent and die the death I deserve.

  "Jason you need to eat. We need all the energy we can get before we try to escape." Abby says.

  She pulls one of my hands into hers. With a disinfectant wipe in her other hand, she sets to work on cleaning my hands of the red staining them. The white rag quickly grows to being a pale pink color, leaving my hands to look more and more like they're supposed to.

  "With your hands so dirty it makes sense you'd hesitate to eat. Hang on I have more wipes." Abby stands and walks over to her backpack. She pulls a container of the cleaning wipes out and hustles back to me. She sets to work on cleaning my hands.

  Watching her clean my hands I know that the blood will never be gone, not really. The red viscous fluid may no longer coat my hands, may no longer stain my skin, but I know it'll always be there. Even now looking at them freshly clean I can still feel it. The flaking, copper-smelling, red stains are still there and no amount of washing will ever get rid of them.

  "That's better. Wait, I also got some lemon-scented hand sanitizer." Abby grabs her backpack and fishes out a slightly yellow tube. She dispenses the opaque fluid on my hands and motions me to rub them together.

  She flashes me a warm smile as I rub the sanitizer in. My hands look far cleaner and now have a slight lemon scent, but the coppery smell of blood is still there.

  "Thank you."

  "That's what friends are for. Now eat up, we need to keep our strength up."

  Nodding I lift the sandwich to my mouth and bite in. It's stale and bland but as I chew my stomach gurgles in anticipation. With my last meal being breakfast I know that I was hungry, but even now my appetite is non-existent. Every bite is forced. Every time I go to swallow my body tries to reject the mush of nutrients and calories.

  As Abby's blue eyes gaze at me I know that I can't spit the food out. I know that she would worry about me if I didn't eat. If she knew what kind of monster I am would she care so much for me?

  I quickly finish the meal. Even if she would see me as a monster that's no excuse to let her worry over me right now. I just need to get her to her father and then I can tell her what kind of monster I am. That way she wouldn't worry about me dying the death I deserve.

  "How are you feeling?" Abby asks me.

  I shrug at her in answer. I can't exactly tell her without her realizing I'm a beast in human skin. Once she realizes that there is no way she'd let me help her get back to her father.

  Abby sticks her bottom lip out in a pout. It's adorable and is almost enough to break my resolve.

  "That's not an answer."

  Sighing I turn my attention away from her and to the view outside the window. Trees sway slightly in the unseen wind. It looks peaceful out there. The orange glow from the city is still present, but in the darkness provided by night, it's hard to tell that it's from a fire.

  "I'm worried about Sabrina. How much of the city is on fire? Is anyone working on containing the fires? What about the zombies? How bad is it over there?" Turning to Abby I find her blue eyes locked onto me. "I need to get to her, just to make sure that she's okay."

  Abby reaches out and pulls me into another hug. She's warm, more so than I expect. It's the comforting warmth of home. It reminds me of sitting next to a lit fireplace and letting the heat envelope me. It's soothing, more so than I deserve. Yet I can't bring myself to break the embrace.

  "I'm worried about my family as well. I'm worried about my brothers. They were supposed to be coming home from college this weekend. I'm even worried about my mom."

  I can feel her trembling ever so slightly. I realize that she's not embracing me just to console me, I know that it's part of her reasoning. Part of her needs to feel the comfort of someone else. With this in mind, I return her embrace.

  She sinks into me and we stay there for a few moments. No words are spoken, we just bask in the presence of each other. Our worlds have been shattered. Modern society has lulled us into believing that the next day is all but guaranteed for us and our families. Now that guarantee is non-existent and perhaps it never existed to begin with.

  I mean any number of things could have killed us or our family without warning. A car crash, a brain-eating amoeba, a sudden stroke. Maybe our lives were never really guaranteed, we just took it for granted.

  "You should get some sleep." I tell Abby.

  The others have already laid down for the night. I don't know if they're sleeping but at least they are trying to rest.

  "What about you?" Abby asks.

  "Someone should keep watch, in case anything happens during the night."

  "But you stayed up the last night. Should you be the one to keep watch?"

  "I'm fine Abby. I'll wake someone else up to take over when I'm ready to sleep."

  She gives me a look that says she doesn't believe me. She's right not too, but I won't be telling her that. The truth is I'm scared of the dreams I'll have.

  After a moment she nods and leaves me alone by the window. She finds someplace to lie out and tries to sleep.

  Turning my attention back to the window I watch the ever-shifting glow of the city on fire. It's so far away, that I struggle to imagine the blazing infernos generating the glow. The heat from them must be insufferable and stifling. Hopefully, whatever buildings were engulfed in the flames were able to be evacuated before anyone got hurt.

  The room is silent as even the banging on the door has ended. The rest of the school remains silent and for a moment I could almost imagine that we are just camping out at school. I let the calmness wash over me as I try to relax without falling asleep.

  Taking deep deliberate breaths I force my mind to be clear of any thought. It's a meditation practice I learned from a from Sabrina after she took me in. She taught to me in those first few months of being with her. I had frequent nightmares back then and this was her way of helping me. It's goal is to relax my mind and body by being aware of nothing but my breaths. It's suppose to ground me and bring me back to the presence.

  My chest expands, sucking air through my nose and into my lungs. I hold the air there for a moment that isn't counted or quantified in any way. I release the breath when it feels right to do so, letting it out slowly and methodically. Then I repeat the process, focusing on it and nothing else.

  My mind wants to wander, to find something else to occupy it. But I let those thoughts flow away from me as I breathe. I deny any of them purchase in my consciousness.

  As I breathe I become aware of something in the air. Not aware in the sense that I'm thinking of it, but aware in the same way I am that I have a shirt on. It's a knowing provided with subtle hints, from the weight of the shirt, to the texture of the fabric. I don't have to focus on any of these to know the shirt is there, I just know without thinking about it, my subconscious mind processing the information for me. It's in this way I know something is in the air I breath.

  It's a weight to the air I can't quantify. A buzzing excitement to it, that makes no sense for regular mundane air to have. It presses in all around me like gravity but flows away from me as easily as the air does when I shift. It flows and swirls in the air as if it were water with its own currents.

  It's a familiar presence but without stopping and thinking about it I can't recall why it's familiar. As I continue my breathing I passively watch this presence and it's flowing currents. My attention is drawn to the area around my left ear where the swirls become more violent.

  The presence becomes a vortex swirling around the earring dangling from me. The vortex converges on the charm and funnels into it, appearing to flow almost like water draining in a sink. My perception of it dwindles as it enters the earring but as I watch this phenomenon I become more aware of a tingling sensation coming from the earring.

  As I focus on this tingling I feel my awareness shifts and I find my focus now being internal. The world fades from me as I watch this strange foreign energy be forced into me. It flows from my head down through my neck and into my chest. There it meets with a different energy that I recognize as something familiar. Familiar in the way that it's a part of me just like my hand, yet I don't think I've ever been aware of this energy.

  No that's not exactly right. I don't know how I know this but I know that I've always been aware of this energy in my chest. It feels like it's one of those constants that we unconsciously forget about because it is so normal to us. Sort of how you're not always aware that your're breathing. Or maybe it's more like how we can't really see our noses because our focus is always elsewhere, yet we still know our nose is there.

  The foreign energy meets with the familiar energy and something in it shifts. It stops being foreign and becomes one with the familiar energy. As I watch this process I become aware that I have a finite amount of room to store this energy and I'm quickly approaching that point. It's like I'm overeating and can't stop myself.

  As I approach this point the influx of foreign energy slows down. The closer I get to being full the slower the energy enters me. Eventually, it goes from a torrent to a stream ending with a trickle barely perceptible.

  Uncomfritable from the sensation I stop and open my eyes. My awareness of the energy inside me fades leaving me to no longer sense the flow of energy in the air. The sensation of having over ate is still present but not focusing on it helps force it out of mind.

  Soft breathes behind me remind me of the other people in the room. They've all found their own spots in the room to spread out. Most avoid the wall lined with the corpses of our classmates as best they can, with myself being the closest. From the sounds of their breathing, I don't believe any of them are awake.

  I envy them. Being able to sleep in this situation. I wonder how many of them had to kill one of our classmates. I know Hanna did. Does she feel guilty about it?

  Motion from across the room steals my attention. Luckily with the power still going and the lights on I can easily make out one of the corpses twitching.

  Fuck. We've been calling them zombies but didn't even stop to consider what that would mean.

  No, no I'm just freaking out for nothing. Zombies are made up monsters meant to scare people. They aren't real and we don't actually know what happened to our classmates. Corpses twitch a lot after death, don't they? I know I've read that somewhere before.

  My hand searches blindly around me until it finds a rubber-handled hammer. Slowly I bring the tool-turned-murder weapon, to the ready. Standing slowly from my spot I watch the corpse go from twitching to full-body convulsions. Crack and snapping sounds from from the body, sounding like someone is cracking their knuckles.

  Another body starts twitching followed by a third. Fuck, if corpses do twitch after death I know for damn sure it's not like this.

  "EVERYBODY UP!" I scream. "THE DEAD ARE COMING BACK!"