Part 2

"Guys," Alex said, shoving the dead weight off Aliyah as it clawed uselessly at the air, "we need to get out of here."

"No shit!" Stanley yelled back. He swung the broomstick like a man swatting at a nightmare he'd just woken from, wood cracking against a gray skull. The thing staggered but didn't fall. None of them ever fell the first time.

Tyler spun in a slow, panicked circle, eyes wild. "There! The window!" He pointed across the gym, toward the tall pane of glass that looked out onto the outdoor basketball court. Daylight bled through it, pale and thin, but it was daylight all the same—and right then it felt like hope.

"There's an army of them in the way!" Alex shouted.

"Better than staying here and getting eaten alive!" Dacre barked back.

Dacre didn't wait for agreement. He lowered his shoulder and charged. The others followed because there wasn't time to argue and because something old and animal had taken over—the part of the brain that knew when to run and when to fight. Improvised weapons rose and fell. Zombies reeled back. Some stayed down. Most didn't.

The cheerleaders froze.

Alex swore. "We can't leave them!"

"We're not!" Nathan yelled. He turned back, scooped Keira up like she weighed nothing, and ran.

Stanley grabbed Sadie. Tyler hauled Avril forward, half dragging, half carrying her. Screams echoed off the gym walls, sharp and terrified, mixing with the wet, hungry moans of the dead.

Dacre looked back at Alex, face red, eyes blazing. "Get Aliyah! Now!"

Alex didn't think. Thinking was for later. He bent, lifted Aliyah into his arms. She was lighter than he expected, trembling so hard it felt like she might shatter. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his shoulder, sobbing.

They hit the window.

Glass exploded outward, raining down onto the basketball court like icy confetti. One by one, they climbed and jumped, landing hard, scraping hands and knees, but moving—always moving.

"Where do we go now?!" Alex shouted.

The court was crawling with them. Dozens. Maybe more. But there was space. Air. Options.

Nathan pointed toward the parking lot. "There!"

Alex nodded. "Go!"

They ran.

Alex kept Aliyah tight against him as they pushed forward, carving a path through grasping hands and snapping jaws. Her tears soaked into his shirt. He felt them, warm and real.

The parking lot came into view.

Cars.

"Dacre!" Alex yelled. "How many fit in your van?"

"Five seats!" Dacre shouted back, fumbling with his keys. "The cheerleaders can squish!"

They reached it just as hands slapped against metal. Doors flew open. Nathan and Tyler shoved the girls inside. Stanley waved Alex forward.

"You two—passenger seat!"

Dacre leaned out. "She'll have to sit on your lap! Now, Alex!"

The dead were close enough now that Alex could smell them. Rot and old blood and something sour underneath it all.

Aliyah looked up at him, face streaked with tears, eyes wide and pleading.

"Fuck it," Alex said.

He slid into the passenger seat and pulled her down onto his lap. She fit there like she'd always belonged, arms locking around his neck, shaking.

The others piled into the back. The cheerleaders squeezed into the trunk, sobbing, praying, screaming.

"Drive!" Alex yelled.

The engine roared to life. Tires screamed. The van lurched forward as bodies slammed against it, fingers scraping paint, mouths snapping inches from glass.

"Goddamn," Alex said, voice hoarse, still tasting copper and fear in the back of his throat. "Where do we go?"

"Away from the school," Dacre snapped, jerking the wheel as the minivan fishtailed around an abandoned sedan. Zombies staggered in the road, some turning at the sound of the engine, others too far gone to notice. "Toward the highway. Maybe there's something out there—someplace still standing."

He checked the rearview mirror. The girls huddled together in the back like birds caught in a storm. Aliyah sniffled softly in Alex's lap, her arms tightening around his neck every time the van swerved.

"Okay," Alex said, forcing his voice steady, "but where do we stay?"

"I don't know!" Dacre shouted, stress cracking his words. "Somewhere without zombies! A mall, a stadium, a fucking fortress—anything we can lock down and not die in!"

He swore again, hard and loud, and Alex blinked. He'd never heard Dacre swear before. It felt like another small sign that the world had shifted.

"Okay," Alex said.

After that, no one talked.

The van barreled through streets that no longer felt like streets—just corridors of wreckage and bodies. Houses burned. Sirens wailed in the distance, cut off too abruptly. Time stretched thin, then snapped back without warning.

Then—

Dacre slammed on the brakes.

Alex looked up.

The mall loomed ahead of them, huge and solid and unreal. Glass unbroken. Doors closed. No movement in the parking lot except wind rattling a loose sign.

"Is it safe?" Alex asked.

Dacre leaned forward, squinting. "Looks like it. No zombies. Tons of food, water, supplies. And if those doors stop working, we barricade."

He glanced at Alex. "What do you think?"

Alex looked down at Aliyah, at the way her fingers were still knotted in his shirt, at the way her breathing slowed when nothing was immediately trying to kill them.

"Sounds good," he said.

"All right," Dacre said, putting the van in park. "Everyone out. We're taking the mall."

They piled out, moving fast, eyes scanning every shadow. Aliyah refused to let go, so Alex carried her, her legs locked around his waist like a scared little animal clinging to the last tree in a flood.

Inside, the mall smelled like dust and air conditioning.

TJ Maxx. A movie theater. A furniture store.

"Clothes and supplies," Dacre said, pointing. "Movies if we don't lose our minds. Furniture for sleeping."

The automatic doors slid open with a soft whoosh.

Alex swallowed. "Can't believe nobody else is here."

"Guess we got lucky," Nathan said, though his voice didn't quite believe it.

They scavenged quietly. Clothes. Blankets. Water. Food that wouldn't rot. Aliyah stayed glued to Alex's side, her hand gripping his sleeve like it might vanish if she let go.

"We could sleep in the furniture store," Alex said. "Pretty sure they've got beds."

"Oh hell yeah," Tyler said. "That's basically a hotel."

The furniture store opened up before them in neat rows of comfort—beds with clean sheets, sofas that hadn't been bled on, chairs that didn't try to bite.

"This is heaven," Alex said.

Stanley dropped onto a mattress with a groan. "I could cry."

The girls explored, whispering, laughing nervously. For a moment, it almost felt normal.

Aliyah climbed into Alex's lap as soon as he sat.

"Aliyah," he said gently, exhaustion dragging at him. "You gotta give me some space."

Her eyes filled instantly. "B-but what if they come back? I don't wanna be alone."

She hugged him again, tight.

Alex closed his eyes. His friends exchanged looks, smirking but saying nothing.

"Go hang out with Sadie and them," Alex said softly.

She hesitated. Then slowly let go. "Okay," she whispered.

"Finally," Alex muttered.

Dacre laughed. "Dude, she's clingy as hell. Like a koala."

Beds were claimed. Lights were dimmed.