All That Remains

How it Began

The zap ran through my brain like a sheet of white-hot lightning. It seemed like such a long time since I had received detention for fighting on the school field but it was only yesterday. It wasn't my fault. That racist idiot Robbie had decided to bully some little year 7 and I was only doing what was right. I ended up with a black eye and a scar along my jawline and he got a nosebleed and slight concussion before we were split up by a midday supervisor and given detention. I had been in that very detention when it started.

I was shaking with agony, the other students howling around me. The pain was excruciating and I couldn't think at all. The teacher, who had been on the computer, was squirming fitfully at her desk. A girl was crying blood-red tears on the back row. My head was frazzling up and I couldn't catch a rational thought. The boy sitting in front of me slumped on his desk and yelped painfully. My friend Ryan Cole was slamming his fists on his desk with his eyes tight shut.

Suddenly the teacher spun on her swivel chair and snarled.

There was something terribly wrong with her face. Her eyes were slashed with black and dripping blood, her cheek had fallen off to reveal yellowing teeth and gums. It was like she was decomposing in front of us. The teacher then grabbed the writhing student in front of me, tore out his throat with his teeth and slurped it up like a sausage. I was panic-stricken and tore my compass from my pencil case as the teacher-zombie hit the boy's skull against her desk to get to the brain inside. The teacher-zombie made a swipe for me but all she got was thin air. I dodged and weaved but she was getting nearer and nearer and... BAM! I shoved the desk into her pelvis and knocked her off balance. By now the pain had stopped and I was left with a dull thud in my head. My long brown hair swished around as I spun and joined the stampede out of the room, trying to make some sense out of what had just happened.

It was after school hours so there were only teachers and a handful of students from my detention. Just then I heard a familiar voice. "Zoey? What's happening?" Ryan asked. "What's going on?" He was pale and shaking and I was worried for him. "I don't know, we need a teacher." I answered, scanning the corridor. "I mean, did she really just tear that boy's throat out?" His face was slightly green from disgust. "Yeah. I don't understand either." I replied, seriously freaked out.

We ran downstairs to the staffroom, where Ryan shoved open the door and four teacher-zombies slowly crawled out gargling and groaning. Ryan's eyes filled with fear as he leaped backwards into the receptionist's desk and fumbled behind him to grab a ruler. I kicked the first teacher-zombie into the second so Ryan stamped on its face when it fell. I jabbed forwards with my compass that was tightly clutched in my fist and stabbed the nearest right through its eyeball. It bellowed and staggered backwards into Ryan, who was punching another teacher zombie, then shoved them both over. I then slammed my fist into the last's jaw and kicked it in the groin. Spinning around we took off, sprinting down the corridors to the staircase.

But, before we were able to reach it a zombified caretaker grabbed for his leg and his face slammed to the ground. By instinct, I grabbed his arm and painfully dragged him into a storage cupboard and threw myself against the door to block it. In the dark I heard him gasping, "Oh my god, oh my god... Are all the adults, like, flesh-eating? So... what about our families? Are my dad and step-mum... Zombies? And what will happen to my stepbrother and my brother? Oh, I'm scared Zoey." He gabbled panicked.

"I'm scared too," I replied, not wanting to think about my family. "I have... a sister and a brother." I murmured. He was silent for a few seconds, "Then that's our plan. We get our families and get out of here, okay?

"Mm hmm." I agreed. I peered around the tight cupboard looking for something to use, my eyes becoming more accustomed to the dark. I could see piles of blue exercise books and geography textbooks, boxes of pencils and scissors, rulers and glue and a toolbox. A toolbox! Kneeling on the cold wooden floor, I lifted the lid. I handed Ryan a hammer and for myself I selected a screwdriver. That would be something to defend ourselves with at least. I stood up, carefully opened the door a crack and scrutinised the corridor beyond. All clear. That zombie must have found another helpless pupil. I pulled Ryan with me out into the light.

We slowly crept down the stairs into the entrance hall where the zombified caretaker was tearing the flesh off a little girl's thigh with its teeth as she howled in agony. I could tell, for Ryan this was torture. Ryan once had a little sister who was hit by a car. Sadly she died in hospital. Little girls affected him and this drew him almost to tears. He lifted his weapon and slammed the zombie in the back of the neck with the two sharp spikes on the back of the hammer. The zombie collapsed onto the girl and she passed out. "She's not going to make it Ryan..." I warned but Ryan ignored me and knelt down next to her. "You're okay, I got you, I got you." He whispered to the unconscious girl. "Ryan it's not her! It's not her!" I protested, pulling him back. Her chest stopped its rise and fall and Ryan threw his hammer at the wall in a fit of rage. Suddenly her eyes flew open and black streaks clouded her eyes. "Ryan!!" I shrieked and leapt backwards. The girl snarled and grabbed Ryan's arm. He stumbled backwards into me and tripped. Shuffling backwards, Ryan was gasping for air as the girl, who was pinned down by the zombie's corpse, snatched out for him. She was too young, too fragile, but it was necessary. I drove the screwdriver into her forehead. She went still.

Ryan was pale and shaking on the ground. I was utterly terrified but I knew I had to be brave, for both of us. Retching and gasping, Ryan threw up all over the floor. His warm vomit splashed the edge of my black boots. Shaking all over, I crouched down. "First ones we killed, I guess we should be proud."

"It's just wrong Zoey! They were people! This is murder."

"You're right, but it's us or them. Ugh. I hate it." I replied. A cold tear slid down my cheek as I forced a smile.

"I wanna go home now." He whispered forlornly. His eyes closed in worry for what he would find there. "I'm sorry." I hugged him. "You're struggling enough already without me bothering you. I should go."

"Don't leave me." His eyes were wide and he was shaking. "Don't." I helped him up and returned his hammer to him. He pushed the button to open the sliding doors. Nothing. "No electricity?" I asked, opening the manual doors. "No, none at all." He replied as he followed me outside. The sky was a dusty grey and there were no lights lit in any window. The streets of our hometown looked bleak and empty without the usual bustle. As we ran swiftly through the streets our footsteps were the only noise in the eerie silence.