~Jet~
“Everybody to the wall!” Stanley yelled.
Well, maybe he didn’t exactly do the right thing. It made the zombies run faster towards us, and Miguel pushed everyone except me and Stanley away from the wall. No need to mention the three civilians weren’t normal humans. Their saws started to clang within the tiled floor, and the zombies started banging their heads on the fiberglass as Stella cries out.
I want to tell everyone not to panic. I want them to calm down. But as you can see, I couldn’t even tell them we’ll make it with everything we have.
Wait. What do we have to fight and survive, anyway?
I held on to the hopeful fact there’s got to be at least one of us gets out of this hell. Miguel got his racket ready, and the other boys were muttering curses as they figure out something in this cell.
One thing, this claustrophobic cell was my last choice if I was to choose a place to hide. It’s awful; I can smell rotten potatoes from its dark walls, like zombies here were eating rotten flesh. The ceiling had a single square colored gray that seems to look down at me.
Stanley suddenly yelled, “They’re going to saw the glass!”
I looked and turned, and to my horror, I see the three Mutated ones drilling their saws through the fiberglass, which seems to melt as the blades were ripping it apart. Adrenaline rushed inside me by the time I can see the glass shaking.
I had an idea.
“Miguel, give me your racket,” I asked Miguel. He was using his delicate racket to spank the saws churning back and forth the thick glass that was larger than my full-body mirror at home (don’t ever ask why I have huge mirrors).
“Why would I?” he said hesitatingly.
“We need to escape!” I said.
Reluctantly, he hands me his racket and probably his last defense. With one last look on the Mutated ones, I took the racket on its end, and I began on jumping, striking the square on the ceiling. At first it gave a small shake like it’s about to open, but after three hops, I hardly made a difference.
“Faster, Jet!” Grace exclaimed, as they were planting themselves on the wall, like the saw will catch them anytime. The fiberglass was close to shattering, and then the hole opened.
“Climb there, NOW!” I yell.
The Mutated didn’t like people escaping, so they sawed harder. The zombies started to reach their arms out for us, but they can’t reach us. I gave the racket back to its owner, and other boys readied themselves. I slumped Stella on the back of my neck, and she was reaching for the ceiling.
“What’s in there?” I asked her once her head was inside.
“Nothing, but it’s made of steel!” she replied.
“Okay, climb up now!”
For fifteen full seconds, she used my shoulder to back herself up, and she was terribly screaming up ahead, like she can see zombies—something impossible to happen.
“I’m next,” said Grace, and I loaded her next. My heart pounded louder when she reached the ceiling, and that’s the time when the fiberglass finally broke and two zombies squeezed inside our cell.

YOU ARE READING
Last Dawn of a Horde
Teen FictionThere are two things we were absolutely afraid of: Getting killed by the dead, and getting killed by the living. All we have to do is to choose. I am John. Friends are my greatest strength. As long as they live, my life's eternally happy. I am James...