A grotesque face stared back at us, sunken eyes fixed on the children.
“Ahh!” I couldn’t help the scream that I let out and reflexively I scooted back away from the creature. The skin on its cheeks was flaking off in chunks and the hair on its head was matted with black blood. My stomach turned and I felt like retching.
“A zombie!” Theo said, his voice sounding fascinated instead of fearful.
A zombie? No way. Zombies aren’t real. But as he said it, I remembered the line of text on my phone; zombie humanoids.
Were these really zombies? What the hell was going on?
An earsplitting scream pulled me from my shocked state and I flinched. It was followed by several other screams and inhuman howls.
“Oh god,” Ren covered his mouth, hand shaking. “The kids out there, what if they got in through the front?”
Oh, god. My blood ran cold. Oh my god. What do I do? My brain floundered, feeling lost at sea, as I struggled to comprehend the situation. Somehow there were real zombies, and they were attacking. They were going to kill them all, if they didn’t do something.
The zombie at the window smacked into it again, knocking the screen off and rattling the pane. Almost all the kids were actively crying, except Theo, who watched on in curiosity. Ren’s face had gone an alarming shade of white and I reached out, grabbing his hand.
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“Ren, are you okay?”
“We have to go save them,” he mumbled, wobbling unsteadily as he stood up. I grabbed his arm as he headed for the door.
“What are you doing?!” I shouted, louder than I’d intended. The terror I’d been trying to clamp down on was finally creeping out. “You can’t go out there!”
“I can’t just let them die!” he protested, tears sliding down his cheeks. “I have to help-”
“You can’t save them by yourself!” I argued, my hand wrapped tightly around his wrist. “If they’re already in the rooms, it’s too late!”
The layout of the daycare was like a long hallway. The front desk and dining room were in the front, with each age group’s room splitting off left or right as you continued down the hall. The youngest rooms were in the front, while our room was the last, all the way at the end of the hall.
We simply had to hope that some of the other teachers had been able to lock their doors before the creatures had gotten in.
A splintering crack sounded and I saw the zombie’s bloodied fist pounding against the breaking window. Raising its arm with a horrid grin, the creature shattered the window with one last blow, glass raining down into the room.
In that moment, I felt as though all my fear disappeared. I put down the terrified child in my arms, tucking her against the wall behind me, and grabbed the broom with no hesitation. As the sluggish monster began pulling himself over broken glass still in the window frame, I gripped the broom tightly and ran it, end first.
The impact buried the end of the broom in its broken chest cavity, filling the room with the stench of rotting meat. I could hear Ren empty his stomach but paid him no mind, avoiding the flailing arms of zombie, and kicked the thing hard in the face. It fell back, sliding off the broom and toppling back out the window. Seeing my chance, I quickly turned, searching for something to block the opening with.
“Ren!” I shouted, watching as he wiped his mouth. “Grab that shelf!”
I was worried he would still be in shock, but my command brought him to life and he burst into action. Grabbing the halfway empty shelf, he hauled it to the window and slammed it down.
“More stuff,” I say brusquely, shoving the small table against the door. “As much as we can.” Ren understands and begins grabbing crates of toys and art supplies, shoving them carelessly onto the shelf, adding to the weight.
“Woah, good idea!” Theo says brightly. I glance back, startled. I had briefly forgotten the kids, but they had stopped crying and screaming. They instead watched, eyes wide, as we barricaded the door and window. Once we had moved everything we could, Ren and I stopped, catching our breath.