Page 4 of Uprising

I debate on lying to him, but there could be valuable things in the rooms. Shaking my head, I refuse to make eye contact with him. I’ve been told I’m a shitty liar, and I’d rather not be called out on it. Not by Jamie, at least.

“Well, shit, come on, let’s get started.”

Jamie takes the lead, pushing the cracked door open. I wait in the hall until he enters the room and nothing jumps out at him.Safety measures.That’s what I’ll call it.

A sudden movement has me stopping in my tracks and standing in a batting stance with my rocks. My shoulders tense, my eyes straining for any sound of the zombies.

Jamie tilts his head to the side, watching the tiny covered area in the corner. A faint sound of heavy breathing followed by growling. My pulse jumps, and my heart drops to my stomach. I swear if something pops out,I’m going to shit myself.

And I refuse to die with shit in my pants.

CHAPTER2

Reed

Iknew the moment they stepped into the government building I should’ve run away. But I thought hiding out in the room, they would pass me, and one of them almost did. Until the other entered the room. Then I thought they would get scared of the noises. It usually does the trick when you breathe heavily and growl. Most run for the hills.

Not these two.

The taller one, with overgrown blond hair, wears an old varsity jacket. His jeans are a bit too tight; I’m surprised the button hasn’t popped off yet. But he’s not the one I’m focused on. It’s the other one.

The shaggy blond hair that falls over his forehead makes him swipe it back only for his hair to fall back into his eyes.It’s cute.His sharp jawline flexes as he widens his stance, appearing like he’s not afraid. But the slight shake of his hands as he held a few rocks tells me otherwise. Does he really believe rocks would kill a zombie? Does he not realize I could snap his neck, and it has nothing to do with the undead?

CHAPTER3

Noah

Istruggle to hold my breath because I’m afraid if I breathe, a person or zombie is going to pop out and maul us to death. It’s a completely rational fear. People became even more selfish, if that were even possible, when the world began to go to shit. People turned on others, but that was not anything new to me.

Being gay, I was always treated differently in school. Most boys didn’t want to hang out with me, fearing that rumors would fly that they somehow turned gay from me. It was ridiculous and not true. I couldn’t help that girls didn’t do it for me; I tried multiple times. But I couldn’t force myself to be someone I’m not, even with the attempts from my terrible parents.

But the lack of growling and movement told me this couldn’t exactly be a zombie. They didn’t have control of themselves.

“Come out with your hands up,” Jamie’s voice shook as he spoke. If I didn’t know better I would’ve chuckled. But Jamie was strong; right now, he was the only thing standing between whatever was hiding in the small closet and me.

The growling continues, and fear licks up my spine. Why aren’t they attacking? My heart pounds against my chest; my breathing becomes ragged.

“I’ll ask one more t–time,” Jamie's voice cracks. He nervously glances at me, begging me with his eyes to not comment about his voice crack.I’m so going to say something.But he doesn’t need to know that, not when we might get mauled to death by whatever is hiding.

“Alright, come out,” I drop my hands, sliding the rocks back into my pocket.

“Dude, what are you doing?” Jamie holds his mallet above his head, most likely going to knock himself out instead of whatever is hiding. I chuckle under my breath at the idea, earning another weird look from Jamie.

“What? He’s not going to come out here if we’re threatening to hurt him.” I don’t comment that the chances of us hurting whoever it is are less than one percent. I have rocks in my pockets, not that it would do any damage to the zombies. It would probably just piss them off. And Jamie, while he’s a big dude who played football, he’s got a brain the size of a peanut.

“That doesn’t mean it should think we’re not going to kill it,” Jamie hisses back.

I roll my eyes, annoyed with the whole situation. I didn’t want to come out here, but since I’m the only one who knows what most medical equipment is used for, I’m the one who has to go.

The growling quiets down, some rustling before a giant walks around the corner and out of the shadows. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely was not that. His jet-black hair hangs just past his eyebrow; his left eye holds a nasty, white, raised scar. It’s ragged and goes from just under his eye to across his face. His bright blue eyes mix with a milky color. But that’s not what holds my attention.

It’s the muzzle.

I lick my dry lips, grimacing when my tongue swipes the sweat off. I shuffle on my feet, not sure what to say now. I have this habit of talking about a big game, but when it comes time to show my face, I like to tuck my tail and run. There have been multiple times that Rue, one of my old best friends, has had to come to my rescue. But she’s not here, and neither is Mallory. They’re either dead or one of the walking dead. Especially Mallory.

I shake my head, ridding myself of the thought of my old friends. No use in thinking about them now, not when it’s not going to help me here.

“Why are you wearing a muzzle?” Jamie finally asks. I peek over at him; the mallet now hangs by his side, his fist flexing around the handle. Guess I’m not the only one confused and a little scared of whoever this person is.

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