Last Dawn of a Horde

Chapter Nine: The First Prince ~2 John

~John~

            “Help!” I cried.

            Sophie was angrily baring her teeth at me; she was heading for my body—she was eager to bite me, and the less scary, to eat me. I kept her head by pulling her hair away from my arm or my stomach, and that’s when the second gunshot banged in the air.

            James knocked Sophie aside, but it got her much more aggressive. I tucked the leather case safely inside my loose tee, and in the process, I lost time. She got James now.

            “John! JOHN!” James blurted out.

            I reached for the Scythe of Fire, and with my nerves disapproving my actions, I sliced Sophie’s left arm. James got the opportunity to kick her aside, and she was rolling in pain, her missing arm’s sockets were sizzling. It smelled like burnt eggs, and before she goes on again, I attempted to strike and kill her.

            Only that she did something I didn’t expect.

            She bit Anee on her neck, and in response, Anee woke up.

            Screaming in utmost pain, Anee screamed, “No! NO! HELP MEEE!”

            “Damn it!” James said as he got his Bolt. I thought he had thought of something desperate, like using that deadly earth-shaker weapon while we’re in the vicinity, but no. He got the Bolt’s butt to slam Sophie’s head away from her neck. A fountain of blood rose from her headless torso, and Anee was so helpless.

            Her bitten neck turned into a nasty shade of gray. She twitched, and I know there was a little time to save me and James.

            “Run, run, run! She’s infected!” I yell, and James and I kicked on the gravel and ran away.

            Thirty-nine left.

            I wasn’t counting, but that ominous dream of mine really bothered me. I saw seventeen teenagers go and fight a horde of endless zombies, and that means my dream held Mr. Riggins and Principal Guns away. It wasn’t a premonition, I hoped.

            Growling like a hungry dog, Anee shifted directions—much to our disgust. She’ll probably attack more of our classmates, and there’s nothing we can absolutely do about it. When we’re out of that sunless, smoky void, I see a street.

            On the left and the right, I see deserted houses. James was behind me, his Bolt ready to fire. I no longer cared about those three men wearing lab gowns any more, until Mr. Riggins yelled from behind.

            “Eddington! Stan! Help!”

            Ugh.

            We ran back to the subsiding smoke, and two figures were darting around. Anee got another one infected. That leaves to us being thirty-seven. We found our teacher being pounced by the same darting silhouettes.

            Before I can approach, Jimmy shot the two zombies. Jules was with him, and his bombs were complete. I see he was using his katana as a weapon. The reinvigorated Bridge was with them, and so does Jet.

            “Can we get the hell out of here?” Jimmy asked hysterically. “Three are already dead!”

            “There are more to come,” Bridge says. “Where’s the cure, John?”

            I flashed the case inside my shirt.

            “Did that work?” he asked.

            I shook my head. “Sophie went more bizarre.”

            Jules interjected. “See? I told you it’s a fraud. This virus has no cure. We wasted lives and time.”

            “Look, don’t be so negative, okay?” Bridge says coolly. “Your classmate has been infected for more than an hour, and the virus sticks itself on a host long enough after an hour.”

            “So you mean this thing only works when you’re just bitten?” asked Jimmy.

            “That’s what I’m guessing about,” says Bridge.

            We can stand there for a minute more, but Mr. Riggins pushed all of us. “We’ll get away from here.”

            I did a count. And I didn’t get happy.

            We’re only thirty, about seven people still missing. Six of us boys load our class, and Jet got upset when Katie wasn’t with the thirty. We screeched to a go, and we hit the road. James, Mr. Riggins, Bridge, and I sat on the front. The principal was wounded, and was loaded on the behind.

            I asked Jules to make a recap on who’s still alive, because Mr. Riggins proposed a safe house on where we can stay for a while. We’re all panicking, and that’s not good when a black, heavy-armed car was on our tail.

            “The terrorists are here!” yelled Mr. Riggins. I steered much harder, and bombs started to detonate on the roads. The rocks that flew from the road shattered the right windshield of the truck, leaving Bridge virtually defenseless. Mutated ones carried chainsaws and garden rakes, and I had to steer sharply to avoid the tires from being popped again.

            “Turn left,” says Mr. Riggins.

            We are heading away from the terrorist base, but Hunters and SWAT helicopters swerved on the air. Then we’re being followed by a strange car with an armalite on its front.

            “We’re all gonna die!” Rolcene barked from behind. If only I can shut him up, I wouldn’t be this skeptical. The roads before us got blown off, and I don’t know what to do.

            One Hunter made a house burst to bits of rock and cement, and the car behind us started to fire on the truck’s load. If we aren’t going to find somewhere to hide…then everyone behind on the load will die.

            A miracle suddenly happened.