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NOW

I s hair It’s a nasty, acidic shter and I’ve never forgotten that foul aroma As my face wrinkles with distaste, an even nastier stench kicks in and I al What the hell is that?

As I’ers past, face and skull ablaze, trying to slap out the fla He falls to his knees and shakes his head wildly frohtly And I peg the source of the s flesh

With a startled cry, I flail away fro to quench the flames with, or someone to call for help It takes all of two seconds to realize I’ pue roonize I should be in my school, but this is a place I’ve never seen before Pure white walls, except where they’ve been scorched Several oversized s, lots of people on the other side of the glass, peering in, studying the chaos

There’s a small team at the center of the room, six people in black leather pants and jackets, faces hidden behind the visors of motorcycle-type helmets Each is aruns, tith spears

Lots of figures surround the six in leathers Fifteen or so irl no ht or nine years old Except they’re not nororize them even before the memories of what happened at h horror fil dead when I see one They don’t move as stiffly as most movie zombies, but they have the vacant expression, they’re nashing together hungrily, they’re covered in scars and cuts, and wisps of green row over their wounds

Wait I never saw moss in any of the movies I only saw that on the zombies in the Internet clips of the attack in Pallaskenry And on those who struck when my school was attacked When I was killed

I flash on ahis hand intoout my heart I moan pitifully and my hands snake to my breast to find out if that really happened or if it was just a dream But I’m distracted before I can check

One of the leather-clad torer than the others, tall and burly He breaks away fro the zombies closest to him They squeal and peel away It seee!" one of the others barks "Get your arse back here We’ve got to stick together"

"Sod that," the tall one retorts, and pushes forward, co fly withelse and flee fro a ed frouy in the leathers, to plead with hi with my es is a strangled "Urrggghh! Ugga gurhk!" sound

One of the zonaws at his shoulder He lowers his flas She claws at his helmet He bends over to shake her off

While I’m not naturally inclined to side with a zombie, it’s clear that we’re in the same boat An enemy of theirs is also an enemy of mine So I dart forward to help the undead woman tackle our foe with the flamethrower

One of the others in the center yells a warning to the suitably nae, but it’s too late I rush him from his blind side and throw myself at him I probably wouldn’t be able to knock hi hirab the hose of his flahtly, roaring for help, but then the woh the leather of his jacket With a curse, his grip loosens A second later I’ve ripped the hose from the tanks strapped to his back and the device is rendered useless

The person with the other flaroup and starts towards me

"Cathy!" soe needs - "

"Forget about him We need you to cover the rest of us"

As the woman hesitates, I heft the hose - it feels quite solid - andthe fe to s, then let hi it down as hard as I can over the top of his heluy belloith pain and backs away froles and shoves s like a cat as she tries to grab hold My gaze fixes on the sers and I’lance down at ers too I drop the hose and clutch the hand to ers and find , a wordless cry of frustration and terror