Last Dawn of a Horde

Chapter Nine: The First Prince ~1 Jet

~Jet~

            “Let us out of here!” Stella cried.

            My name’s Jet, and I don’t think I’ll still need my name, my schoolmates’ names, and even hope when I was seeing right now I could almost do nothing to save myself.

            I hated the undead. And I hate myself for not saving Katie, or any of my classmates. It’s not that I was so miserable to the fact people here with me wasn’t on my acquaintances, but all my despair came from the fact that death was coming for me real and slow and torturing.

            I don’t like being in cramped, small spaces.

            It makes me feel like I’m depriving myself from breathing. It feels like my existence was only a debt to whoever put us in here. Now, I don’t know or how did they had managed to put us here, and it made a chill on my spine to think that the others might have not made it alive. I was wondering where are the others--whether if they are alive or not.

            It’s just like my life is now tied with strangers I come to trust if I want to survive.

            I’m not stupid—I know we are locked here. Adrian, Stella, Miguel, Prince, Stanley, and Grace were with me as well. We’re crowded, and I can’t breathe well.

            The walls were painted black, and they were cold. They were three; and none even had a small window. The fourth wall was creepy enough—it had a see-through glass, which I believe was fiberglass. Unbreakable with easy means.

            Prince said, “They had injected us with something! For us to sleep while they bombard us to here!” He was pointing at a small, red dot on his forearm, and no one noticed him. I checked my forearm, and there was a tingling, subtle sensation on the same red dot I got too.

            “My racket’s still with me!” Miguel suddenly chided, and he was hugging his black-shafted racket, like he hadn’t seen it for years.

            “Well, surely my bow and arrow’s not with me,” Adrian added.

            Then all of us fell silent when we heard an elevator go ding! And we were all sure it came from that room behind the reflective glass. Miguel, Stanley, and I poked our noses on the glass to see everything clearly.

            And after a glimpse, I swore I had wished I didn’t exactly try to see it.

            About five bloodthirsty zombies accompanied by three civilians all carrying long saws were searching desperately around the room.

            One Mutated pointed to our direction—as a matter of fact, I think it pointed straight to me—and the zombies were suddenly hell-bent to run towards us: the students who were virtually defenseless.