Lacey stood above Miss Greene’s naked body.
“Oh my God,” Johnny whispered. Their teacher had been placed on top of a thick rug or carpet. Both of her feet had been removed. The carpet she lay atop absorbed the blood that had been lost through the injuries. The paleness of her skin told Bucky that their teacher was gone.
“She’s dead,” Lacey whispered.
“What kind of sick idiot would do this?” Johnny asked. “He must have been seriously messed in the head.”
Bucky closed his eyes. There was no one left to take care of them. The four students, kids at best, now needed to take care of themselves in a world far more unforgiving than the one they’d been raised in. Pressure bore down upon his shoulders. He was the guy that knew things about zombies, at least from pop culture. He’d be looked to as someone who could get them out of any situation they may find themselves in. Why the hell hadn’t Johnny just kept his mouth shut back at the hardware shop? Thanks to him, Bucky would now be looked upon as a leader, a title he did not want.
“Guys! They’re in! Quick! I need help!” Bucky returned to his senses with Aaron’s warning. He scoured the area until finding the sword on top of some boxes.
“What are we going to do?” Lacey asked.
Bucky turned to her. Time to lead by example and hope the others picked it up fast. “The only thing we can do. Survive.”
A group of infected pushed through the barn door. Wood splintered as the bike chain remained but the handle gave away. They ambled inside, one blood soaked person followed by another, groaning and snarling as they parted around the tractor.
Johnny took up an attack stance as Bucky left the storage room. “There’s only one way to get up here. We should be safe. We can pick them off one at a time if they climb the ladder.”
“Only if they climb the ladder,” Bucky replied. “If they don’t, and more decide to join them, we’ll be stuck. We will be safer down there on foot and away from tight spaces like this, not holed up in a barn that cannot keep the wind out. If we don’t get down now we’re stuck up here, and for a very long time.”
“I count seven,” Aaron added. “We can take seven of them.”
“Screw this.”
The events that had unfolded in the past day took its toll on Bucky, and no longer fearing for his own safety, he descended the ladder and jumped to the floor. The first to notice was a bearded man clad in a rain stalker coat. His white eyes found Bucky, and with a shrill akin to that of an animal, bounded across to his position with bloodied arms outstretched. Bucky wielded the sword and sliced the blade into his head, dropping the man to his knees. Blood poured from the wound as Bucky withdrew the blade, but it stuck inside, the skull unwilling to let it leave. He pulled again. The blade remained embedded. The man’s body began to twitch, causing more difficulty to keep hold of the weapon. A woman with wide, open eyes bore down upon him. Her mouth opened to its full extent, revealing black liquid that oozed and dripped down across her chin. Darkened veins protruded her skin as she descended upon him, ready to take a bite that would infect, or, even worse, kill him.
She jolted to the side as flesh and matter splattered his cheek. Lacey stood there, smashing her head with the hammer whilst her focus had been on Bucky. Aaron leapt to his side, plunging a screwdriver deep into the head of another woman, a farm hand by Bucky’s perception.
“Come on,” Lacey said, rushing past Bucky. He screamed out and pulled the sword with herculean effort, removing the blade from his initial attacker. Blood with the consistency of slime took hold of the blade, still unwilling to give it back.
Bucky rushed to the herd of infected ambling around the tractor. Lacey struggled with a top naked man who’d enjoyed far too many takeaways back in the old world. “Duck!” he screamed. Lacey dropped to the floor as the blade of his sword whistled over her head, slicing deep into the fat guy’s neck. The head tumbled from his shoulders, but hung against his back, still attached by skin and ligaments. The sword had not passed through the flesh with a clean strike. Black liquid trickled from the wound as the body swayed and tumbled in a drunken manner around the barn. Bucky ignored it and focused on the next, a skinny man wearing stained glasses. He swiped down before the outstretched hands could reach him, embedding the sword inside a skull for a second time. This time the blade withdrew on the first attempt. He span around, ready for the next attack, but it didn’t arrive.
Bucky stood motionless for a moment as the rain rattled the ground and crops outside. Between them they’d neutralised the threat. The aimless, beheaded body still wandered around, clattering and smashing into its surroundings. Johnny moved across and plunged the screwdriver into its head, dropping the erratic walking body to a motionless lump laying on the floor.
“Alright. What next?” Aaron asked. His cricket whites should have now been called cricket soils.
“I don’t think we can stay here,” Bucky replied, speaking with honesty. “It’s too dangerous. The barn won’t keep any of them out.”
“Ah, shit, man, I’m knackered,” Aaron stated.
“I know, but we’re not safe here, not now. These doors won’t hold without a handle.”
“Not even upstairs?” Johnny asked.
“No. If we have a horde rushing into us again and we’re all upstairs, we have nowhere to go.”
“Damn it,” Aaron sighed.
“Where do we go, though?” Lacey asked.
“Anywhere. It was like Miss Greene said earlier, just keep moving. I think that’s what we
