Jase and I eyed each other. With a deep inhalation, he stepped inside first. Glass crunched under my boots as I stepped around the corpse. We walked as carefully and quietly as we could, pausing to listen after every few steps.

Something fell on the floor in a nearby room. I swung my rifle around.

We moved as one toward the open door. I listened for any other sounds, but could only hear movement in the one room. When we reached the door, I twisted around and aimed. I lowered my weapon with a sigh. “Jesus, Bill. I nearly blew your head off.”

He continued to rifle through papers on the table. “They’re not here. I don’t understand it. There’s no note.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before he looked up and over his shoulder. “They must still be in the student center.”

“Hold up,” I said, reaching for him. That no one had cleaned up the body in the building they lived was a serious red flag. “They probably had to run and didn’t get a chance to get back here to leave a note.”

“Bill, hold on, man,” Jase echoed.

He pushed open the door. “It’s lunchtime. Everyone eats at the student center.” He headed outside.

“He’s a real pain in the ass,” I muttered, not caring if Bill heard me or not.

“The idea of ditching him and heading back is getting pretty appealing,” Jase added.

I glanced at my watch. Six minutes to go. I sucked in a breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

We followed Bill as he jogged down a sidewalk and up to a brick building with large glass windows.

“Hold up,” I said and grabbed his arm before he opened the door.

He yanked out of my grip. “Everyone will be inside. It’s okay.”

“Look,” Jase said and pointed.

“What?” Bill asked, and then he frowned. He cupped his hands against the glass and squinted. He let out a gasp. “No.”

Inside, the student center was a mess. Tables were overturned, chairs were scattered. There was nobody eating lunch. There was nobody, period.

“They must’ve run,” I said hopefully.

Bill grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. As he ran inside, I lowered my head and shook it slowly. After taking a deep breath, I followed, staying protectively at Jase’s side.

There were no zeds, not even any bodies littering the floors. The ominous feeling in my gut had morphed into fear.

Bill was doing a three-sixty, looking around. “Katie!” he called out. “Jan!”

“Sh,” I hissed. “Keep it down.”

A thump came from somewhere off to my left, confirming my suspicion. There were zeds still around here, all right.

A smile broke out on Bill’s face, and the tension fell from his shoulders. “Oh, they’re in the theater. Thank God.”

“Don’t,” I warned.

Bill turned back to us. “It’s all right. The theater is our emergency shelter. They’ve probably been staying in there until someone came to give them the all-clear.”

“Then why is there a steel pipe through the door?” Jase asked, but Bill either didn’t hear or didn’t care because he rushed across the open space and to that exact door.

“I don’t like this,” I said, slowly walking toward Bill.

“I think we should get out of here,” Jase said.

“Agreed.”

“I’m coming!” Bill called out and glanced over his shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t understand. This is part of our emergency procedures. Someone probably locked them in here for safety, so that zeds couldn’t get to them. But now they can’t get out unless we unlock it for them.”

“Then why didn’t they lock the door from the other side,” Jase asked dubiously.

Bill slid the pipe out from the handles and pulled open the door. He stood there, staring into the darkness. “Katie? Jan?”

Moans echoed. Jase and I both lunged for the door the same time a zed tumbled from the darkness. Bill cried out and shoved it down. Jase slammed the door shut, and I slid the bar back into place. I spun on my heel to see Bill holding the zed back with his hands pressing against its shoulders.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of fists pounded against the metal door. It sounded like the entire theater was filled with zeds.

Jase swung his machete, taking off the top of the zed’s skull, and it collapsed.

“Holy shit,” Jase said, sucking in a breath.

“Yeah,” I said breathlessly before turning around to find Bill frozen behind us. After wiping sweat from my face, I grabbed his arm. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Both Jase and I pulled at him, but he dug in his heels. “The theater was safe. No windows. How’d the zeds find them?”

“Someone was probably infected before going in there,” I answered.

“That door isn’t going to hold them for long,” Jase tacked on. “We need to get out of here. Because those are going to be some fresh and fast zeds in there.”

Bill collapsed onto the floor with his head between his knees, hugging himself. “I never should’ve left. I should’ve come earlier.”

Jase and I looked at each other, hopeless. Neither of us spoke. I didn’t voice the truth, that his family had probably never stood a chance.

The sounds of fists pounding against the doors echoed through the center. The bar through the door handles clanged as the door moved against it in a rhythmic wave. It would take minutes, at most, for them to break free.

I nudged Bill. “We have to go.”

He shook his head. “What’s the use in going on?” He looked up, tears running down his cheeks. “It’s my fault. I should’ve come for them.” His voice grew louder with every word, and I tried to shush him. Bill shook his fist at the theater. “You bastards! You’re all bastards!”

I eyed Jase and he nodded. “We need to go now,” he said, enunciating every word.

I nodded. We each grabbed one of Bill’s arms and pulled him to his feet.

He tore away. “No!” He fell back onto his butt and sobbed.

I pursed my lips. “Bill, it’s not your fault what happened.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Bill. Your family would want you to save yourself.”

Bill didn’t respond, instead he continued to sob.

We tried to pull him up again, but he shoved away and fell back down. The zeds’ moaning and pounding were growing louder, echoing throughout the student center.

This time when I eyed Jase, his features hardened, and he shook his head slowly. I swallowed and glanced down at Bill one more time. The man had reached his breaking point. He’d chosen to give up rather than to keep on living. I wanted to yank him along with us, but I knew it would be pointless. If we took the time to drag him, we’d never get out of there alive.

My throat tightened and I stepped back. Then Jase and I ran back to the plane, leaving Bill behind with a theater full of zeds.

Chapter V

“Where’s Bill?” Clutch asked as Jase and I piled into the Cessna. I dumped my gear onto Jase’s lap and pulled the door closed.

A distant scream broke through the silence.

“He’s not coming,” Jase said as I started up the plane without taking the time to go through any checklist, let alone buckle my seat belt.

Clutch didn’t say anything else, but I could feel his eyes on me as I tried to smooth out the engine as quickly as I could. As soon as its rough grumble of fouling spark plugs cleared somewhat, I throttled full power and started my takeoff roll.

“A shitload of zeds coming in fast at our two o’clock,” Clutch said loudly at my side.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” I muttered, pulling back on the yoke, trying to force the plane into the air. With the tanks only half full and one less passenger, the Cessna lifted off at the edge of the dorms. Zeds came running around the buildings and onto the street below. I leveled off my climb to build up speed just out of reach of the zeds below, because I didn’t want to risk stalling and losing what little lift I had.

Once I could manage a decent rate of climb, I looked down at the crowded street below. If we’d been five seconds later, zeds would’ve collided with the Cessna, and we never would’ve gotten off the ground. I let out the breath I’d held on takeoff. “That was close.”