Part 2, as narrated by BasiltheCats charcter Storm.
I don't want to die, not here, not now. As my vision becomes more clear, I see my leg pierced by a piece of the metal, it wasn't in deep but it hurt like hell and I could not find the will to move. But the pain was nothing compared to what was going through my mind, the biggest concern. The children, there were 22 on this bus, now, from my slowly focusing mind I counted 4. My mind becoming more and more fearful as the full horror came into view. It wasn't the children, little Laura had her face twisted into an almost unrecognizable expression, one of feral hatred. But she was still wearing her little purple dress, her eyes still those sweet and innocent baby blue. My biggest concern was the other 3, and what lay before them. I felt bile rise in my mouth as one of them ripped into the mangled corpse of the late bus driver, the body drowning in what I hoped was mostly her blood. Laura locked her baby blue eyes onto mine. She began moving towards me, arms outstretched, letting out a bone-chilling screech. This couldn't be real, it...it... can't be. I reached into the a nearby sports bag, looking for something to defend myself if necessary, and my hands fell upon a familiar tool, a bow and arrow (a quiver of only about 6) from archery class up at camp. Years of archery practice and competitions back in England may just save my life. I looked back into those eyes filled with anger and hunger, fear and adrenaline overtook my body, and loading up an arrow, I released it into her skull, blood sprayed onto the floor as her body collapsed to the ground. I almost vomited, the pain in my leg seemingly increasing. I held back the tears and the sensation of terror. I needed to move, fast, the other...things had not noticed my presences of yet, too busy indulging in flesh, one pulling apart her stomach. “Pull it together Naomi, pull your shit together.” I muttered. I needed to move, The piece of metal isn't in too deep, which is good cause that means all it'll need to heal is some bandages and time. The problem was getting out of here, I prayed the things that once were children aren't too fast. I bit my lip and heaved the metal off, pain shooting through my leg. The noise of the metal piece clattering on the floor alerted the other things. No time for breath, no time for tears, I ain't even got time to bleed I just had to get the hell out of here. I pulled myself up, and ducked through the blood-soaked children. I remember thinking damn was today a bad day to wear flip-flops, as I ran through warm, sticky blood bare foot. I crashed through the door of the bus, I didn't stop for a second, I ran as fast as I could with an injured leg, until I could continue no more, till every part of my body ached. I had reached the back of a light blue house. There was a door that lead down into the owners basement, and though it was locked, the doors were wooden and the lock rusted, so it was no problem to get in, a few sift kicks with my good foot and it broke open. I lowered myself into the cellar and checked for danger. It was a simple stone cellar, empty save for cobwebs, a water tank, boxes, and stairs, no doubt leading to the next floor. At the wooden door leading upstairs was another one of those damn things, scratching constantly at the door. I raised my bow, sliding in an arrow and raised it, but I couldn't fire it. Instead I crumpled to the floor, dropping the bow and quiver, and cried, sobbing on the cold cellar floor. Everything that happened, something that had happened, something that will change everything. I couldn't bring myself to say it but the word 'zombie' came to mind. My sadness quickly turned to anger, anger towards myself. I ran without thinking where those kids were, if they were safe. I...I had to find them, it was, is, my duty to keep those kids safe as camp councillor, even if I was a temp. volunteer. Those kids are my priority. This isn't the Naomi that the kids saw. I must be strong, I must be thoughtful, I must be fearless, that is what the kids saw me as, Storm, that is what they called me, that is what Father called me, that is who I must be. I must be Storm. “I must be Storm.” I was beginning to rise when something made me freeze. Footsteps. Movement from the floor above. The scratching intensified. After a few minutes, the footsteps moved towards the cellar door. I held my breath. If whoever it was opened that door, the zombie-thing would no doubt overpower whoever it is on the other end. I could warn them, or fire an arrow at the thing. But do I want to draw attention to myself? Probably not. But what if it's another zombie on the other end, hm, then I'd have two to deal with. I shut my eyes. I heard the slow turning of a door handle, then 3 loud knocks, probably from the front door. Whoever it was moved away from the door. I took a deep breath, then, after grabbing my bow and slinging my arrow over my shoulder, I slipped quietly out of the house, leaving behind Naomi and stepping into this terrifying reality as Storm.
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