There was a crash that rang throughout the academy as Raul, Chase, and Ardwen crashed into the cafeteria. They hastily scrambled around, grabbing every chair and table they could and throwing it against every door they could until they had blockaded the room. The three stood panting in the middle of the cafeteria. They had just run through the majority of the school, gathering more and more zombie students behind them as the horde grew.
"This is madness," Ardwen sighed, leaning against a pillar. His hair was damp with sweat and hung in front of his eyes. "We can't run from them forever."
"No, not since we trapped ourselves in here," Chase added sarcastically. One of the doors hissed as it slid open with a cluster of students standing outside, staring through the gaps in between chairs and tables. "We can't run at all anymore."
"We could fight," Ardwen muttered, half hoping nobody would hear it and agree, but not wanting to look weak. Raul trembled a little at the mentioning of going near the zombies.
"Oh right, we can't fight them because we're hanging out with a chicken who will pass out if we get too close to them." Chase threw up his hands in frustration. Normally he would be the first one into a fight but the restrictions he was given were killing him on the inside. A spark shot out off his body, fading on the ground as it fizzled out.
"So then what do we do now?" Ardwen slid down the pillar until he was sitting, folding his legs up and holding them tight to his body with his arms.
"We sit and we wait and we die," Chase snapped back.
"They don't kill us, they just put us in a resonance state. I'm pretty certain we won't die, but we'll just wander around the school looking for others to put into resonance states." A chair fell down, rattling onto the ground, its sound bouncing around the largely empty room. A student's arm punched through the new space, wiggling around as it searched for the desired chi or a way to get closer to it.
"I'm sick of this resonance state crap. Resonance this, resonance that, let's just cut it out and call them zombies." There was a banging at the blockade that shut up Chase's rage quite quickly, leaving him standing in the room with Raul and Ardwen at his feet.
"Fine, zombies, call them what you like," Ardwen muttered. "I'm getting sick of these attacks on the academy. We can't even use our Goliaths!" Ardwen turned to Raul, who would normally be quite useful and skilled in such a situation with his ninja training but was currently curled up in a ball on the floor. "And we have to babysit too."
There was a rattling above all of them as one of the air vents grates shook a little. The grate popped off and fell to the floor, followed by Nami and Gretta. The two of them gently landed on their feet, with a rope trailing behind them back into the hole in the ceiling. "You two using that for an escape?" Ardwen said without surprise at the appearance of the girls. In response, Nami tugged on the rope and yanked Rick through the hole, letting the man's face smash straight into the ground. He had already appeared to be knocked out before the impact anyways so he didn't make a sound.
"He's in a Resonance state too." Nami threw her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Rick's state.
"Zombie," Chase corrected. "He's a zombie now. They're all zombies. Looks like everyone in the school is at our door." Chase nodded towards the blockade, which continued to be rattled and broken down.
"So no camp-out?" Nami pouted, much to everyone's shock. "Fine, ok I was kidding. So then what do we do now hmm? Sit and wait until your chairs and tables fall down? Or do we beat up our fellow students?"
"You don't seem to have any problems beating up Rick." Ardwen laughed a bit before a seething glare quieted him.
"She has a point though," Chase murmured, thinking a bit. "These are classmates, fellow students..."
YOU ARE READING
Sigma/Star
MaceraThe Earth is approaching the year 2200. It has been divided by four major powers who dwell in ceaseless war. Human pilots learn to drive massive mechanized soldiers called Goliaths as warmachines to tip the tides of battle in their favour. Porter Ry...