Chapter 3
Bella's POV
Sometimes surviving means running. Sometimes it means thinking and today? We do both.
For a few seconds, no one talked.
The gym was quiet — too quiet.
The kind of quiet that made your heart beat louder than your thoughts.
We were all breathing hard, trying not to freak out.
Alya wiped her face. Violet hugged her knees on the bleachers, shaking like a wet chihuahua.
Jesse stood near me, holding her bat like she'd swing at anything that moved wrong.
The two boys stared at us from the middle of the gym, gripping their bats too. They looked scared, like everyone else in this school who was still human.
My hands still hurt from holding the bat so tight. My brain felt like it was overheating.
I kept thinking:
We almost died in a bathroom.
A freaking bathroom.
Not heroic. Not dramatic. Just dead next to soap and hand wipes.
Happy birthday to me.
Violet sniffled. "Guys… I want to go home."
Jesse muttered, "Me too."
Alya hugged herself. "We… we can't. Not yet. We need a plan. We need safety."
One of the boys cleared his throat.
"We should stay here. It's big. We can block the doors."
I shook my head immediately.
"No. Gyms echo. The noise carries. One scream, one hit, one sneeze— zombies will find us in seconds."
Violet gasped. "What if I sneeze?!"
"Then hold it in or sneeze into your soul," I replied.
She nodded dramatically. "Okay. S–soul sneeze."
The second boy pointed toward the back of the gym.
"There's an emergency exit behind the storage room. It leads outside."
Outside.
Not safe, but safer than inside a building full of things eating people.
A loud BOOM hit the front gym doors.
All of us jumped.
The zombies were still out there. Trying. Waiting. Angry.
Another slam. Metal shook.
My voice came out low. "They're going to break in."
Violet whimpered. "I'm gonna cry."
"You're already crying," Jesse said.
"I'm gonna cry more."
"We need to move," I said. "Storage room. Now."
The boys nodded.
We moved fast but quiet — slow enough not to make noise, fast enough not to die.
The gym felt too open. Too bright. Like a spotlight saying:
HEY ZOMBIES, WE'RE RIGHT HERE, COME SNACK.
We reached the big equipment closet.
The first boy opened the door slowly.
Creeeeeeak.
We froze.
Violet's eyes widened. "Why do doors betray us…"
Inside was dark, dusty, and filled with equipment — balls, mats, a stack of old uniforms. And at the very back, a glowing green exit sign.
Freedom.
Maybe.
"Alya, check if outside is clear," I whispered.
She tiptoed to the door and peeked outside.
Grass. Trees. The back school garden area. Silent.
"I think it's clear," she whispered.
"Okay," I nodded. "We go. Quiet and fast."
Jesse went first.
Violet went after her, clinging to her backpack like it was a life jacket.
I stayed back, waiting for everyone to pass.
Leader duties suck. Zero stars. Would like to return this responsibility.
We all stepped outside—
CRASH!!!
The main gym doors broke open.
A scream of monsters echoed.
Footsteps.
Fast.
Hungry.
"RUN!" I yelled.
We sprinted across the grass.
Feet pounding.
Hearts exploding.
Zombies burst out of the gym behind us, screaming like nightmares with teeth.
The boys slammed the storage exit shut and shoved a metal bar through the handle to block it.
It shook hard — bodies slamming from the other side.
"GO!" I shouted.
We ran toward the far school fence.
"Why is this campus suddenly SO BIG?!" Violet cried.
"Exercise!" Jesse yelled back.
"We are literally exercising right now!" Violet screamed.
Zombies shrieked from behind.
I didn't look. If I looked, I might fall. If I fell, I was dead.
We reached the tall metal fence — topped with sharp wire.
Of course.
Why not.
The universe hates teenagers.
The boys threw their jackets over the wire so we wouldn't get cut.
"Climb!" I ordered.
Alya went first, shaky but fast.
Then Violet. She cried the whole way up like a baby koala.
"IF I DIE, BURY ME WITH SNACKS!" she sobbed.
"You're not dying!" Jesse shouted, climbing after her.
"BUT WHAT IF I DIE ANYWAY?!"
"THEN I'LL HAUNT YOU BACK!" I screamed.
"Yes ma'am."
I climbed last. My fingers burned. Legs shaking. Heart booming so loud I could hear it in my teeth.
We threw ourselves over, landed on the pavement. Knees screamed, but we stayed standing.
Behind the fence, zombies smashed against it.
Hands reaching.
Mouths open like they were starving for us.
We backed away slowly.
Breathing.
Alive.
Barely.
Outside the school was worse.
Cars crashed. Smoke rising in the distance. Sirens. People screaming somewhere far away.
The city wasn't normal anymore.
The world wasn't normal anymore.
Violet gasped. "Guys… look."
Across the road, someone was running — a teacher maybe — screaming for help.
Behind them, three zombies chased.
Before we could think, the teacher fell.
And the screaming stopped.
Alya covered her mouth, crying.
Jesse looked away.
The boys clenched their fists.
Violet whispered, shaking, "We're… we're really in the end of the world."
I tightened my grip on the bat.
"No," I said quietly.
They all looked at me.
"This is the start. The end comes later."
Silence.
Heavy. Real.
A wind blew past, carrying the smell of smoke and fear.
"Where do we go?" Jesse whispered.
I swallowed hard.
Home. Hospital. Police. Military. Anywhere safe. But nowhere was safe.
I pointed toward town.
"There's a convenience store two blocks from here. Food. Water. Maybe medicine."
"And zombies," Violet whispered.
"Also zombies," I agreed. "So stay together. No leaving anyone behind."
They nodded.
We began walking — fast, but careful.
Every sound made us jump. Every shadow felt alive.
I didn't know if we'd make it.
I didn't know if tomorrow existed.
But we were moving.
Surviving.
One step at a time.
I tightened my hold on the bat.
"I am NOT dying before I eat cake on my birthday."
Violet sniffed. "Same. Also… after this, I am never going on a diet again."
Jesse patted her head. "Good choice."
We walked forward.
School behind us.
Unknown in front of us.
Death everywhere.
But we're still here.
Breathing.
Fighting.
Living.
For now.
-
Rule 1: Don't die. Rule 2: Don't let your friends die. Rule 3: If you have snacks, share them or I will fight you.
The street was too quiet.
No cars passing.
No students laughing.
Just wind and distant screaming like the world had a sore throat.
We stuck close together — six shadows moving fast.
Violet held Alya's hand so tight I thought their bones might fuse together.
"Don't let go," she whispered every five seconds.
Alya nodded every time, like if she didn't, Violet would explode.
The boys walked ahead a little, talking in low voices.
I listened.
"Are your parents okay?" one asked.
The other shook his head. "Dad works at the city hall. Mom's at the mall. What if—"
He didn't finish.
No one finished sentences anymore.
Hope felt fragile. Like glass you don't want to drop.
Jesse walked beside me, scanning the area like she expected something to jump at us.
Good. Expect the jump-scare — don't BE the jump-scare.
We followed the sidewalk, stepping over backpacks, books, abandoned phones. One bag lay open — stuffed with homework and a lunchbox with a little cartoon bunny sticker.
Normal life.
Left behind like trash.
Violet whispered, "Is this really happening?"
"Yeah," I said softly. "And we're going to survive it."
"…Do we get trauma discounts for snacks after this?"
"Probably."
We reached the convenience store at the corner. The big glass windows were cracked but not broken. The lights flickered inside — weak but alive.
Alya squinted. "I don't see movement."
"Good," I whispered. "Stay quiet. Slow. Check everywhere."
The boys opened the door slowly. A little bell above the door made the tiniest *ding* sound.
We all froze.
"…why would a bell betray us like that," Violet whispered.
Inside smelled like candy, dust, and something rotten — like old food and fear.
Shelves half knocked over. Bags of chips on the floor. A spilled soda slowly dripping from a counter edge like red syrup blood.
Alya whispered, shaking, "W-we only grab what we need."
"Food, water, medical stuff," I nodded. "Fast."
Jesse headed straight to the drinks fridge and started grabbing water bottles. I grabbed protein bars, chips, anything we could eat while running for our lives.
Violet wandered the snack aisle, whispering, "I'm sorry If I ever hated carbs…"
The boys searched behind the counter for first-aid kits.
Everything felt too quiet.
Too easy.
A sound broke the silence —
Shuffle.
From the back.
A slow step.
Another.
A chill raced down my spine.
I raised my bat.
"Everyone freeze."
Violet froze holding a bag of chips like a newborn baby. "Wasn't me."
Alya whispered, "Bella…"
From the back storage room, the door moved.
A hand appeared.
Rotting. Twitching. Nails cracked.
Then another.
And then a zombie stumbled out — an adult, maybe a worker. His apron was stained with blood, eyes foggy, mouth half-open like he forgot how to close it.
He sniffed the air.
Then his head *snapped* toward us.
Violet: "NOPE NO THANK YOU I HATE EVERYTHING—"
He lunged.
I swung my bat — hard.
CRACK.
He fell but didn't stop — crawling with jerky movements like a spider that forgot how to be a spider.
Alya grabbed cans and started throwing them. One hit the zombie in the face.
"Ouch— sorry— panic throw!" she yelled.
Another sound came — louder steps.
Two more zombies pushed through the back door.
"Time to go!" I yelled.
Violet dropped chips, grabbed new ones, then screamed and ran.
Jesse rushed to help one boy pull a shelf down — blocking the zombies for a second.
A second is enough to not die.
We bolted out the door, panting, sliding on the sidewalk.
The bell dinged again.
Violet gasped, "WE NEED TO BREAK THAT BELL—"
We ran until we reached a small alley behind the store.
Safe for now.
Maybe.
Everyone breathing hard like we'd run a marathon inside a nightmare.
Alya leaned on the wall. "I-I can't keep doing this…"
"Yes you can," I said softly. "You're still here. That means you have to fight."
Violet wiped her face. "I wanna sleep for twelve years."
Jesse checked our supplies. "We need somewhere safer. Somewhere high. Locked. Windows."
"I know a place," one boy said. "My uncle owns a studio apartment a few blocks from here. Second floor. Metal door. Balcony view. We'd see everything coming."
A home base.
A chance to rest.
A roof and walls and maybe breathing without shaking.
I nodded. "Lead the way."
As we started walking again, the city groaned — alarms in the distance, glass breaking somewhere, a siren dying mid-scream.
Alya whispered, voice tiny but strong:
"Do you think help will come?"
I didn't answer right away.
I wanted to say yes.
I wanted to lie if I had to.
So I did.
"Yes. But until they do, we help ourselves."
Violet nodded bravely… then immediately tripped on a rock.
"I HATE THE OUTSIDE," she cried.
Jesse grabbed her. "You're fine."
"No I'm emotionally damaged—"
"Same," Jesse sighed.
We kept walking — six scared kids trying to act brave in a world falling apart.
And somehow, just surviving together felt like a promise.
We were not dying today.
No matter what happens.