Young Writers Society

HOPE*

Yesterday was perfectly normal. Hope was sitting with her adoptive uncle in his backyard just talking about random things in life.

When hope woke up today she didn't think that everything would fall apart. It all started in 3rd period. All was normal, her dance teacher was recording us dance for our Grades. Then All of a sudden there was a loud scream.

The teacher ran out leaving us behind. More screaming accurd and then silence. It wasn't long before their teacher came back. Though at the time they didn't know...… their teacher was bitten by a zombie. They had continued class and hope's turn came up. When she went to start our teachers fell to the floor. None of us knew what to do... Did they save their teacher by fixing her arm or did they run to tell someone else.

Just as hope thought to run the principle came on the intercom. "RUN!" was all that got through.... Then a blood curdling scream broke through the intercom.. Worse than before. Way worse.

Hope took it very seriously. No way she would be caught by one of them. Hope had so much to live for. People to keep alive. She ran out of the class dodging people left and right. Half way through the school. Hope saw her three best friends. Elle, Max, James.

Elle was a small skinny Redhead girl of “5’4” stature.

Max a brown haired, grey eyed, lean trans boy of only “5’0” stature.

James had curly blond hair and grey eyes, standing at “6’0” lean built.

They all seemed to be doing ok, no broken bones, bite marks, scratches... Nothing...

Elle Noticed hope and freaked out as they began to all ran side by side. "Are you ok?" "Any bite marks?"

"Scratches?" "What about the ba-" Elle rambled with a scared look in her eyes.

"I'm Fine" Hope hissed out not wanting her to tell the world.

"Oh right, sorry...…." They ran into one of the closer classrooms seeing as most were either empty or occupied by the dead. They all looked and barricaded the door, closed the blinds and sat in a circle.

"No one got hurt right?" Max questioned all of them. "Hope is-?"

"Yep!!! just fine calm down." Hope hurriedly said.

James looked around confused and sighed a little. She gave him the 'I'll tell you later look'.

"I think we should wait it out for the night here." "I'll watch, you guys get some sleep" James called first watch. Hope kissed him on the cheek, then laid down holding her stomach slightly. Not long after she fell into a deep sleep.

*JAMES POV*

Hope kisses my cheek before laying down. When she fell asleep he noticed her holding her stomach a little.....

'Is....is she?...…. Fuck...….. Did I really...…'

'Damn it I did didn't I...….' James stared at the door thinking about Hope.

Elle and Max's hushed voices woke me. "He's pissed, Elle!"

"Well he can get over it, he's not leaving her with this baby alone in the fracking Apocalypse!"

James? Leaving? Baby? Me?..... Freaking heckles….

I sat up slowly not looking at them. Elle and Max's conversation stopped, and I could feel their eyes burning into my back.

A memory flashed in my mind.

'i don't want kids'

I stared at my phone.... 'but babe....' 'nope never Hope never'

Blinking the outside world came back.

Hope sighed quietly as James' footsteps got closer. He looked pissed. James stood there in front of her, with that look… A look of intense anger. His eyes full of hatred and eyebrows frowned. I knew he would be upset. Freak, I messed up. Why!? "James look.. I...". "No stop you know I didn't want kids why!? why would you do this!?"

Elle clenched her fist tight. "JAMES BACK OF-" A hand grabbed her shirt. "Elle stop they need to talk this out" Max said quietly. He pulled Elle to the other side of the room, leaving a fuming James and hope alone....

"look James I didn't mean to-" Hope began in a wippy voice. He glared harshly at her. "DIDN'T MEAN TO! BITCH, PLEASE! DON'T TELL ME YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he screamed at her.

Hope felt the tears trickle down my face. He hates me. Hope looked at him. His hair, usually messy in a roguish way, was frizzy and wild. His face was flushed, blurred into a mass of red by her tears. Hope blinked, clearing them out of the way.

"I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING, BITCH! AND WHAT DO YOU DO? YOU THROW IT BACK INTO MY FREAKING FACE! YOU LITTLE SLUT!" The tears were coming back. Hope wiped under my eyes, trying to ward them off, but they still came. Blinking again, She finally looked him directly in the eyes.

James' eyes were like hot coals, tiny and burning. All She could see in them was hate. They bored into hopes skull, beams of loathing drilling into her brain, and she fought the urge to look away. Because something in Hope told her, she had to be strong. This wasn't the James she loved anymore. Just by looking into his eyes, hope could tell that James was gone.

"No," She whispered, looking straight at him. Her voice shook of its own accord. "I'M SORRY? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?" James screamed. Hope could feel his anger pulsing from where she stood, trying to smother me. But something in her was starting to burn, too. This wasn't a James she wanted to love. Hope could feel her own anger start to rise.

NO!! She glared right back at him, straight in the eye.

"You know what? Go screw yourself." He looked bewildered.

"Any man that doesn't want what he helped create doesn't deserve me or my baby.. My baby, Elle, Max, and I will survive without you. If you don't want this kid then you can leave, because I'm keeping it no matter what," hope growled, letting her emotions take over. He took another look at me before turning to the door.

His face red with anger. His heart is heavy with sadness. Hope stared at his back as he unbarricaded the door and left.

He really left me. I stared at the opened door for a little longer before Elle's voice brought me back. "Hope... We have to do something. If we want to stay here we have to clear it out". This is what we needed to get supplies, and build a home for ourselves. A place for my baby. A safe place where we don't have to listen to adults dictate us. A home in a devastated world.

Hope got up slowly. "A home". They smiled at me noticing my change in mood. "A home". "A home".

We split up looking for things we could use as weapons. On a few of the dead there were knives or guns. Our schools Officers alway had those on them. Hope picked up the hand guns off of them and a glock that the other one had. 'These will be perfect'. With a fast pace she made her way back to the room.

Max and Elle sat next to different items. Max by some large boxes of food. Each box held about 10 cans and 2 boxes. The boxes held cereal. The cans were split equally between two types of foods: Black Beans and Peaches.

Elle had on a large jacket she must have taken off of one of the dead. Next to her was a large pile of car keys. "So i'm the only one who got weapons cool" Hope muttered annoyed. Max looked at her and shrugged. "I got food and Elle managed to get us a few cars we can pull up close to the school and use. Plus We can take them apart when we get the chance and fix up your truck!".

'My truck?'." I don't have a truck". Elle throws hope a pair of keys. A ford truck!

Hope Looked at the keys then back at them, then the keys before shooting out the room like all might. She dodge every biter along the way to the parking lot. Hope set the keys so that they would only flash the headlights.

There in all its glory sat. A black, four door truck. The windows were tinted and the bed was large enough to fit two bikes. HOLY SHNIT! Elle and Max came up behind me and smiled. "See now you do have a truck!". Hope opened the door to the truck ignoring the zombies. Wow. The interior was a dark purple with a strip of LED lights on the roof. The center console turned into a seat and the Radio had been changed for a CD player.

“You guys…. How did you find this beautiful truck?” hope questioned them with tears starting to flow out of my eyes. “Don't cry! We thought since you're not going to spend your birthday with anyone now, we could get you something.” Ell spoke, rubbing my back. “Since we now have a ride we can fix up everything and even level up your truck to biters apocalypse Manic truck” Max added. Hope told them to hop in and then got in and turned the truck on……..

THOMAS*

Working behind the till at the common garage wasn't his ideal job. Nor were many of the jobs that people have resorted too. It seemed so simple when he was younger: study, learn, work hard and you'd eventually get there. But then again, so many things seemed so easy when you are young. Things weren't the same way anymore. 'Keep your eyes on the prize' he would hear his dad say as he chewed his pencil's rubber off whilst wringing his mind in concentration trying to gauge out the previous day's lesson from the murky waters of his memory. It was hard enough then, and even then all he had to do was to solve calculations and spend mind-numbing hours flipping through textbooks. If only now, emerging into adolescent life, he could have a textbook to read to teach him how to survive in a world like this. If only now, somebody could explain to him the methods to earn money fast, to achieve his dreams. But now, he belonged to the majority of people who slaved away with the patriotic duty to serve a cause that they had never cared for. And he had the patriotic duty of serving diesel and peanut snacks to creepy people in white vans.

"Thank you, sir, and have a nice day." He sighed as yet another customer with a smile that shone just a bit too brightly handed him the change and returned to their car.

Through the grimy window, he could see another driver get out of their vehicle, fill it up and then start to head towards the convenience store. He had a harsh limp and lugged his body laboriously. When he arrived, Thomas could identify what looked like ketchup sprawled down his shirt and could smell beer on his breath as he neared towards the till.

“This, please.” Denying eye contact, the driver placed down a small bottle of water and a pack of paracetamol. Despite the man’s attention focused on his watch, he could see sickly pale skin and tinges of blue and red etched across his face.

“$3.20.” The driver pulled some coins from his pockets, still focused on his watch, and they crumbled from his hand onto the counter.

“Thank you, sir.”

He rushed away to the door and exited the shop. Thomas’ eyes trailed after him and watched him move to his car. He ordered the cash and took up the book that lay face down on the chair next to him. Opening the cover, he flicked through the pages and resumed where he was before. The sky was darkening and the dull breezes that swung the trees indicated evening. Though he had some drivers that stopped by so late, most of the time the parking was barren of cars and the shop empty of customers.

Nobody would ever have known, let alone cared that his true dream was to be a marine biologist. Speculating at the miscellaneous species that lined the thin pages of his book, he found interest in learning about vertebrae and the DNA of sea creatures. His friends had teased him- it was unlike his character of charm and wit. But it seemed to suit him so much, investigating the ocean and unveiling the secrets of the Earth. Maybe, they just didn’t know the real him. Or maybe it really didn’t suit him. He wasn’t even sure what to do with his ambition. He was 21, and maybe it had been too late. He was studying engineering, thanks to his dad’s demands. He had also taken up his job because of him- he hadn’t intended to work at his father’s garage, but hell, he didn’t know what else to do anyway. Engineering was a fine career, but it wasn’t him. It didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to spend his later years fixing cars and engines. Tucking the book away into his bag to leave, he sighed despairingly. The pages ripped against the zip and he quickly mended it with tape. Gathering the rest of his stuff, he exited the till and started his routine check around the shop. His father had told him to do this in case there were any stolen goods, mess that needed to be tidied or even people who ha snuck in there without Thomas looking to stay for the night. It was a small town and with the new mayor, people’s livelihoods were at cost. After his routine checks, he made way for the door.

Tilting his head up to push it open, he could see a figure writhing in the distance. From what he could see, it appeared to be the same man from before. Red liquid spewing from his mouth and veins bulging, his neck cracked and twitched and his body fell in a spasm of pain and inhuman movements. Thomas opened his mouth, horrified from the scene and realized it wasn’t ketchup that was on his shirt. How could he have not known? He was such an idiot, to not realize that this man was in need of help. But why had he spent so long over here? It had been an hour since he served him, it was almost like he was waiting for him- he reflected for a moment, his eyes furrowing in confusion and then rushed to get his phone and dialed 911, his fingers scrambling to find the right numbers. The phone rang and he pressed it to his ear, looking warily at the driver. He knew that he should surely go and help him, but he wasn’t experienced. Why would he be?

“911, how can I help you?”

Deep breaths.

“A.. man. I can’t- he’s. Blood.” The words tumbled from his mouth to create a confused muddle of meaning.

“Could you please tell me your address?” The woman asked patiently, discrete tones of nervousness quivering in her voice.

“Uhh, 346 Close Drive, the garage, and please. Hurry.”

“The ambulance is on its way. Can you please describe his condition?”

“He’s, vomiting blood and he’s out-” A sickening crack cut him short and he dropped the phone. Deaf to the attendant’s voice, he watched the driver staring at him hungrily, licking the blood off his face. The stone-cold glare was like an arrow pierced into his soul, wedging itself into his consciousness. The driver ran forward like a savage animal, flailing its arms about him and gnashing its teeth unpleasantly. It smashed against the door and weakly thrust its body towards it until finally the glass broke sending shards trembling down onto the floor, reflecting on Thomas’ own distraught face, etched with fear. Meeting the person’s eyes, he stood aghast as it began to climb over the door towards him.

The call was still going and the now screaming voice of the woman on the other line was unheard against the noise of the situation. Stepping on the phone, Thomas’ foot brushed against the hang-up button and ended the call. He backed away, his mouth hanging like a hammock propping up his tongue and teeth that shook with fear. Hands held up weakly, he stumbled back into a shelf, knocking down the tin cans as they rolled away in contempt and crashed against the floor. It gurgled. It spat. It dribbled. Blood. The door burst open, giving an easy path to the disheveled figure reaching towards him and raising his arms to grab Thomas’ collar. A whimper fled his throat and he lunged towards the till swinging away from its grasp. There was only one thing he could do, he thought, watching it chomp its teeth together. He pulled a small key from his pocket rapidly and fiddled with it in his hands, bending over to a locked drawer at the counter. Paranoid for the safety of his son, his father had given him the weapon. Jigging the rusted drawer, it opened and he saw a pistol lay limp inside. Reluctant to use it, Thomas’ had been taught from a young age how to wield it. Laying there, silent and tempting, he looked at the gun, refraining from thinking back to the times that he nearly shot somebody with his inexperienced aiming.

Taking it from the desk, he loaded it using the three packets of bullets that accompanied the metallic device. He navigated the shop through its tiny lens and targeted the approaching figure. Wincing, his finger rested against the trigger and only when it came too close he pulled it. No sound echoed from his deed and all he heard was the dull thump of the corpse as it hit the ground. Thank you Dad he thought, appreciating the fact that his dad had silenced the gun for his sake. It was funny, in a way. Why would his gun need to be silenced? Unless he was planning to murder somebody….

Fuck. He had just murdered somebody. Steadying himself with the edge of the counter, he watched the smooth layers of blood spill from the brain of the corpse and could still see the bullet embedded within the soggy flesh of his target. The mouth was askew, its jaw unaligned. The stench was overpowering and pressing down on its neck to check its pulse, he thought it was strange that the body was so cold, and so soon? Kneeling down, he stared into its dead eyes that lolled about the shop as the body adjusted its position, now flat on its back with its limp arms hanging by its side.

The shock was welcomed back by the frail thoughts that emerged into his mind. Would he go to prison? Would he be arrested? Why did his dad silence the gun? Could he hide the body…

The last question struck him in a death-like freeze as he reviewed this thought. I mean, now that he thought about it, there were no sirens, no police cars. Surely somebody would have seen him. Peering out of the window, all the cars were gone too. What if he didn’t have to kill him? What if, there was another way. He frowned, thinking about the man’s family, friends, who would be at loss because of his actions. But, he had to.

Didn’t he?

Feeling a lump under his shoe, he moved and saw his phone cracked and damaged. He held it in his hands. I mean, the ambulance was long gone. He could call the police, surely. But since he had heard no sirens, he was in the clear...

“Well, not really,” he remarked, continuing his line of thought and looking down at his blood-stained shirt and the body that was motionless like a rag doll on the garage’s floor.

He didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t like this was a common situation. He decided on his next move. If he even had any. Outside, the night howled with wind and the stars shone pridefully. It was dark. Could he.. Go? Could he run away? Never look back. He couldn’t help but sketch out a plan in his mind, thumbing through the details of his possible escape.

No- it was murder and would be even more so if he fled. He wasn’t a coward, and from his experience, running away doesn’t get people anywhere.

Slumping back against the wall, he dialed the police and held the phone to his ear, his eyes lingering on the corpse and the blood that was gradually travelling rapidly towards him. He stood up and moved further away.

The phone rang. It beeped. It vibrated. No reply was made and all he could hear was the methodical grunts it made. He hung up. Strange. But, he had to do something, anything, and he couldn’t wait any longer. Pushing himself off the floor, he sighed and thrust his head upwards to the ceiling in despondence and frustration. Swinging his bag over his shoulder, he went outside and trudged solemnly to the police station.

The air was thick with must and black shadows skittered in the corner of his eye. Squinting through the darkness, he could make out hushed and blurred figures of buildings tower over him. Deep snarls scowled anomalously and he quickened his pace, hearing the voices getting nearer to him. He was unable to see around him, but every so often, he felt a hot breath lean on his neck and something pull at his shirt. As the voices grew louder, he started to jog, which turned into a run, which turned into a sprint, his footsteps echoing on the ground. He slammed the door behind him and heaved. Clenching his fists in anxiety, he laughed quietly and was grateful for the glow of the lightbulb in the foyer of the police station. He had run so fast, and could only make out the slight whisper of words as he checked the sign to confirm his destination before swinging the door open. But he was here now, and it looked like a police station. That was good.

Now that he was here, he reflected on his decision. What was he thinking? Seriously, this?

He panted and ran his hands across his knees in exhaustion, smiling.

Suddenly, he was interrupted by the realization of where he was and snapped his head up, expecting a glare from a receptionist or the cold clamp of handcuffs press against his skin. But all that responded to him was a silent room. He loosened his posture and rang the bell at the desk, peering around the hallway. Not like he was eager to get arrested. Resting his arms on the reception desk, he huffed and took in the contents of the room. A bulletin board held missing person flyers etched with names of people and brief descriptions. The chairs in the foyer streamed along the wall and a stack of newspapers piled on a small wooden table. Decorated in an unappealing mustard yellow, the walls were blank and draughty. A coffee mug rolled on the carpet and coffee had spilt out of it, staining the tiny fibers. Nobody was coming. He had waited for five minutes now and his heart was growing weak with annoyance and fear- a very sorrowful combination.

Massaging his forehead, he opened his mouth to yell but looking but turning behind he saw the shadow of a thousand figures crowd the station and thrust against the walls. Their bodies shook against them, reminding him of the man that he had encountered at the garage. Their teeth gnashed and their arms raised in defiance. It was only now that he could see them, eyes- wide and trudging towards him from nearby buildings. Feeling around his jacket and jeans for his gun, he cursed himself for his stupidity. But then again, how was he to know that a thousand of these rabid people would come knocking on the door? Was he really going to take the murder weapon to the police station that he used? He ran, rushing through the corridors and navigating through the fairly small building, his fingers running against the walls as he looked behind him every so often, unable to hear the gurgle of voices. When he reached an exit, he slipped out slyly and maneuvered back to the garage. Fuck. He didn’t want to be near that thing that he could have killed. What was happening, wasn’t human. But, where else would he go? He didn’t have a car, he had parked his fathers’ outside of the garage. And it’s not like he had the time to try and steal a car right now and stop dead in his tracks.

Reaching the garage, he took back his gun and tucked it away into his jacket. Grasping a couple of tin cans, water, and a lonely pen knife that sat idly on the floor, seemingly from the dead man, he stored it in his backpack. He placed it on his shoulders, turned and squinted through the window, scouring the parking lot for any of the creatures that had followed him. Turning back towards the exit, he fumbled around for his keys, patting down his jeans and chest. Searching within his pocket, he could not find or hear the signature jangle of metal or the plastic picture that accompanied it. He rushed out of the backdoor, where his car sat parked and patiently waiting. Running forward, he pressed his body against the door, the first time ever praying that he had left it unlocked.

“No, no no!” He heaved and hit the trunk angrily and began to return to the garage.

The engine started behind him.

Spinning on his heels, Thomas’ mouth hung open as he watched three young teenagers climb in and put the keys in the ignition. A girl was in the driver’s seat, her face flushed with excitement as she gripped the steering wheel in awe. Her head turned and she saw him standing outside through the pristine glass window. Jaw clenching and her fists whitening, she stared at him. Then, the other two took the same position, gaping at him, shocked.

The other girl raised her voice, tentatively meeting his eyes with fear “Who are you?”

HOPE*

The coner of hopes eye cot something. A man. Hopes head turned and she saw him fully. Jaw clenching and fists whitening, she stared at him. The rush of excitement left me as Elle spoke. "Who are you?" she questioned him with hesitance. "Thomas Harklow, are you like them?" His voice held a small hint of panic but mostly was strong. Hope looked at him up and down before hopping out of the truck. There wasn't any biters that she had seen in the area yet.

"Hope, Leader of our happy band of not dead people, Nice to meet you" I tried to sound as regal as possible. This man hadn't made himself a threat yet... Key word Yet. "You took my dads truck. I need it back." hope sniffed a light laugh when he spoke. "Its my truck as of now. You could join us if you would like. But You have to prove you wouldn't hurt us or anyone who is in our group future wise." hope put a hand on her hip and smirked at him. Elle and Max stood behind hope having gotten out of the truck seconds after her.

"I wouldn't hurt someone normally. I-I did kill someone earlier. He was bleeding, his veins were bulging a-and he didn't speak a work when he attacked me". Max suddenly stood in front of hopes smaller frame. He shielded her from Thomas.

"Did he bite you?" Max asked getting closer to him.

"What? Bite?"

"DID HE BITE YOU?"

"No! I killed him before he could get anywhere near me." Max backed away nodding towards thomas. "You can join us. We are in need of some skills. Do you happen to work at the auto shop you came out of?" thomas hesitantly nodded.

"Good hop in, Max, you and Elle sit in the back." Elle grumbled angerly but they hopped into the back seats. Hope hopped into the truck and watched Thomas walk around to the passenger seat. As thomas walked around the car Elle spoke, "One wrong move towards your baby or you, Hope, and he's gone." Max and Elle got comfortable as he opened the door.

After thomas had buckled up Hope locked the doors, and pulled out onto the street. In front of the police station, just down the road stood around two dozen hungry looking biters. They turned towards the sound of our truck snapping their jaws. Hope turned the truck to the other way, away from them and just down the short road.

"Elle directions to the nearest food, cloth, a store like target or Walmart. Just no those two. Something simple" Hope spoke looking forward away from Elle.

"Simple enough, "Elle said," go towards the highway and turn left on it. Then about ten streets down on Maple street turn right, and into the parking lot of Winne Dixie it shouldn't be raided and most people don't think of small places like that. We can also stop at the Save lot and Belles before heading back to the school. They are just a crossed the street from Winne Dixie, and Might have some resistance if people thought to go there. While we are in Winne Dixie we need to get a lot of food and health items. So park by the entrance. Make sure to lock the truck and we each need to fill at least one carts full of the non-perishable foods, items for health, like pills and toilet paper, and chocolate from there. Other than that I'll mention when we are on our way to the other places." Hope nodded lightly at her. Thomas seemed to like the idea of going to Winne Dixie, but didn't speak up.

Hope quickly made drove carefully to Winne Dixie fallowing the Directions Elle gave me while avoiding the biters that were wandering around and pulled up right in front of the store. She looked at the others and said," Is everyone ready? We'll be fine and can get anything we need. So lets get out there." Hope turned the truck off. After it was locked we walked into the store quietly.

"Lets split up into twos Elle, you and Max will go together. I'll take Thomas with me. Don't worry I know what I'm doing. You make sure to get necessary hygiene items and make sure to not forget pads and tampons got it?" The nodded quickly and ran off to the center of the store with two carts. Hope turned to Thomas.

"Thomas," Hopes velvety voice spoke "Its better that you know now, but I'm pregnant so we are in charge of food of us and baby food too. Grab a cart and lets start with waters and other drinks, then we'll go over to the dry food and cereal area. Anything between the groups we think are important also throw in your cart."

"A baby? Ok sure" he sounded uneasy with the baby idea. Hope grabbed a cart and walked over to the water aisle. Whistling quietly she listened to thomas walk behind her. "I know its probably not the best thing to have to worry about. Your probably upset that you have to deal with this but I won't be a problem at any time I'm doing this for myself and will never get in the way."

------------------Hours later---------------

When we finally got back to the school it became evident that the biters had leveled out around the school and were not just concentrated in one spot like they had been when we left. Elle, who was driving, pulled the truck up to the fence and they got out ready to fight any biters in our area.

"We need to take out the few biters between us and the building so we can open the gate for the truck. So boys after we take out these guys we need to have you on watch. It will be easier to pull this truck into the school with the big truck gate and we'll be less likely to get it stolen." They all nodded and ran off to take out any close zombies. Hope quietly slipped behind one zombie and slammed her knife into his head. As he fell to the ground Hope noticed that they all had taken out most of the others.

"Guys we got them, now lets move" Hope said with a tone of excitement as she killed the last two in the area. Elle and hope pulled the truck into the school using the truck gate and started to take everything out of it and placed it into one of the classrooms. Many boxes and bags later, we had everything that we had gotten into a large classroom. They were standing outside near Hopes truck when Max said," So Thomas, since your new, tell us about yourself!" Hope lightly chuckled waiting for Thomas's answer. Hope looked at them at the end of the truck and said, " Lets go inside. We can get to actually know each other. Well that and my back is starting to hurt from carrying all those boxes and bags". After locking the truck we headed into the building and picked a unused classroom to talk in.

"Well I guess I will start. I'm Hope Mckalens. I moved to this town about five years ago. I am seventeen and going to be a mother" Hope introduced herself to thomas sitting down in a rolly chair. "I'm Ellebeth but you can call me Elle, I'm nineteen and I am with Max. I'm also Hopes bestfriend since she moved here." She sat next to hope, but on the floor.

"Lastly I'm Max. I'm eighteen, with Elle, and you?" Max asked with confidence in his voice. He grinned at Elle when he spoke. "I'm Thomas, I'm nineteen and I never went to highschool."

THOMAS*

The September autumn shook, reminiscing of the old days behind them. Winter was soon emerging, and in its presence, it would carry the frost-stricken shrines of an abandoned world ruptured by canary and conflict.

One of which was a school.

After an evening of polite introductions and welcomed friendships, Thomas was glad to have slept a full 10 hours that night. However, when he awoke, Max, Elle and Hope had already gone, their shabby and uncomfortable desk beds empty and hunched together. Craning his neck to see about the room, Thomas then sat up straight and walked out what appeared to be the senior science classroom and into the open corridor.

'Hey there!' Max turned from the door he was facing and came to greet him. 'You slept well last night.' 'Yeah, I mean it was quite a day yesterday'. 'Very.'

Grey and blunt, a small hammer writhed in Max's hands, and Thomas noticed this and stepped back, aghast.

Max followed his line of sight and laughed. 'Oh this?' He stated, twisting it in his palms. 'This is just something got from the fire alarm thingy. Y'know, the thing that breaks it open?'

Thomas nodded and smiled. 'Sure, of course, sorry.' He stepped back and rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. 'I just got a shock there is all.'

'It's okay. You have to be cautious in world overrun by biters.' Max smiled sadly for a couple of moments and then turned and pointed to the door. 'You see, there's a lock on all of these lockers, and I figured that I could break through it with this hammer. You know to get the goodies'

Max walked over to one of them and Thomas followed behind curiously. He raised the tool and clashed it against the padlock, the locker grimacing as it unlocked hesitantly. Opening the door, he rummaged through it and found nothing but a few science laden notebooks and a teddy bear panda.

'I guess we'll just have to chance it, eh?' Max said, looking over to the dozens of lockers that stood closed and stubborn.

Thomas nodded, and they began to go through each and every one of them.

'Look what we have here.'

After 45 minutes of hygiene products, rotten packed lunches, make-up and extra clothing, Thomas was staggering, a bountiful of resources tumbling in his arms. They had left the unnecessary stuff behind in a pile, and Thomas had already filled up 15 schoolbags worth of items. Max gestured for him to see, kneeling down and peering into the locker. Thomas leaned besides him, and picked up the magnum inside.

'Hey now, don't get too hasty with me.' Max looked at him expectantly, the palm of his hand opened. Thomas quickly gave it too him and returned his attention to the locker. There were still two knives and a wide assortment of bullets all tucked away inside a large hoodie.

'Here, you can take the knife.' Max handed over a small pocket knife and Thomas looked at it mindlessly. 'Thanks a lot'. 'Well, I don't know if I can trust you yet.'

Tom sighed, and flipped it over in his hands. 'Listen, Thomas, if you are in trouble I'll give you a gun. I swear. But you know how crazy people are, and the fact that some kid had this in their locker is even more concerning.' Max stood up and walked off to collect a couple of the bags. 'Let's go and find Hope and Elle and decide what we are going to do with this crap.'

Suddenly remembering his father's gun, Thomas stood back and swallowed hard. He didn't tell them yesterday, and they gave him one of their guns to fight off the horde of zombies, which he had returned. How could he trust them himself, or even surrender his only viable means of protection and the memory of his father. But if they saw him using it, or if Max saw him using it, he would be finished.

He looked at the gun hidden in the pocket of his jumper, gripping it protectively with iron in his heart. Max was right, you have to be cautious in a world overrun by biters. But maybe hiding the gun from them wasn't the best idea. They trusted him with much of their lives. Hope had trusted him enough to let him in on the fact she is pregnant. 'Max. Uh-h so I won't need a gun to keep myself safe'.

Max's head whipped around towards tom. 'What?' I grimly looked at him. ' I have on already. My dads old gun, a classic. I'm sorry I hadn't told you about it. I had forgotten'. Max's eyes shifted to the pocket of toms jacket. 'I'll talk with the others see how they feel. For now just keep it hidden'. 

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Hi! this is a rewritten-rewrite of my story under a different name! You'll probably notice its slightly different but please anything you notice that looks wrong tell me! This was originally called STZAHS but I figured that name sucked I call it The light of hope. Its A story that isn't all that strong in the horror. It will be in the future and its gonna take some turns. So please stay along the way as I continue to fight through the making of this story and fixing it to fit with what I have planned. So far you've met two mains but wait for the other three! 

Thank you and Please like this or at least give it a review. But At most please enjoy it!