The sky above the Drakensberg Mountains was a canvas of deep indigo, dotted with twinkling stars that seemed close enough to touch. The crisp night air was filled with the earthy scent of pine and the distant sound of a flowing river. A group of ten students from Parkview High School had gathered around a roaring campfire, their laughter and chatter echoing through the secluded campsite.

Noxolo Dladla sat cross-legged on a log, her eyes dancing with the reflection of the flames as she sipped hot chocolate from a tin mug. Beside her, Chantelle Joseph adjusted her woollen beanie, her cheeks flushed from the warmth of the fire and the companionship of friends. The trip had been planned for months—a chance to unwind before the pressures of final exams and the impending responsibilities of adulthood.

Across from them, Marco Condesse gestured animatedly as he recounted a funny story from their bus ride earlier that day, his hyperactive energy infectious. Melisha Budhai laughed heartily, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder as she leaned into Ricardo Larsen, who had his arm casually draped around her. The two had been flirting incessantly since the trip began, much to the amusement and occasional annoyance of their friends.

Scattered around the fire were the rest of their classmates: Thato Mokoena, a stocky boy with a passion for rugby and an even greater passion for food; Lindiwe Khumalo, a shy girl with a knack for sketching; Sizwe Dube, the resident class clown; Priya Naidoo, a studious girl who had reluctantly agreed to come along; and David Meyer, an adventurous spirit with a camera perpetually hanging around his neck.

As the night deepened, the stories transitioned from humorous anecdotes to spooky tales meant to send shivers down spines. Marco, ever the entertainer, had taken centre stage, weaving a tale about a haunted cabin that supposedly existed nearby.

“...and when they opened the door, all they found was a single, bloody handprint on the wall,” Marco concluded, his voice low and ominous.

A collective gasp followed by nervous laughter rippled through the group. Lindiwe clutched her sketchbook tighter, her eyes wide. “That’s not true, is it?” she asked hesitantly.

Marco grinned, his white teeth gleaming in the firelight. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll find out tonight.”

“Oh, please,” Priya interjected, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been watching too many horror movies.”

Before Marco could retort, a rustling sound came from the nearby bushes. Everyone fell silent, their heads snapping toward the source of the noise. The forest, which had been serenely quiet moments before, suddenly felt oppressive, the shadows between the trees darker and more menacing.

“Probably just an animal,” David said, lifting his camera in anticipation. “Maybe we’ll spot a deer or something.”

Another rustle, louder this time, followed by the unmistakable sound of snapping twigs.

“That doesn’t sound like a deer,” Thato muttered, his jovial demeanour fading as he rose to his feet.

Ricardo stood up as well, his eyes narrowed. “Maybe we should check it out. Could be a stray hiker needing help.”

Noxolo exchanged a nervous glance with Chantelle, who shrugged but looked uneasy. Melisha, ever bold, got up and dusted off her jeans. “Let’s go have a look then. No point sitting around scared.”

Together, Ricardo, Melisha, and Thato approached the edge of the clearing, their flashlight beams cutting through the darkness. The rest of the group stayed behind, tension palpable in the air.

“Hello? Is someone there?” Ricardo called out, his voice steady.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, emerging slowly from the underbrush, was a man. His clothes were tattered, hanging off his gaunt frame, and his skin had a sickly, greyish pallor. Blood smeared his mouth and hands, and his eyes were clouded, lifeless.

“Oh my God,” Melisha whispered, taking a step back.

The man let out a guttural groan and lurched forward, his movements jerky and unnatural. Behind him, more figures appeared—men and women, all in varying states of decay, advancing toward the students with alarming speed.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Run!” Ricardo shouted, grabbing Melisha’s hand and sprinting back toward the campfire.

Panic erupted as the group scattered in all directions. Screams pierced the night, blending with the horrifying moans of the undead. The tranquil campsite transformed into a scene of pure chaos.

Noxolo grabbed Chantelle’s arm, her heart pounding wildly. “This way!” she yelled, pulling her friend toward a narrow trail leading deeper into the woods.

Behind them, Sizwe tripped over a loose rock, sprawling onto the ground. He scrambled to get up, but a zombie was already upon him, its decaying hands gripping his shoulders. Sizwe screamed as the creature sank its teeth into his neck, blood spurting out in a gruesome spray.

“Sizwe!” Lindiwe cried out, but Thato yanked her away before she could do anything foolish.

“There’s nothing we can do! We have to go!” Thato shouted, dragging a sobbing Lindiwe along as they fled into the darkness.

David, ever the adventurer, had tried to document the unfolding horror, his camera flashing repeatedly as he backpedalled away from the advancing horde. But his fascination proved fatal when he backed straight into another zombie that had circled around. The creature clawed at his back, tearing through fabric and flesh alike. David’s screams were cut short as more undead swarmed him, pulling him down into a mass of gnashing teeth and grasping hands.

Priya, separated from the others in the frenzy, found herself cornered against a large boulder. Three zombies advanced toward her, their mouths dripping with fresh blood. Desperation fuelled her actions as she grabbed a hefty branch from the ground and swung wildly, managing to knock one creature back. But as she tried to fight off the others, another zombie emerged from behind, sinking its teeth into her shoulder.

A blood-curdling scream tore from Priya's throat as she struggled futilely against her attackers. Her screams echoed through the forest, spurring the others to run faster.

Thato and Lindiwe sprinted down a steep slope, their breaths ragged and lungs burning. The sounds of their friends' screams echoed ominously behind them, but they dared not look back.

“We have to find shelter!” Lindiwe gasped, her eyes darting around frantically.

“There!” Thato pointed to a small cave nestled between two large rocks. Without hesitation, they dashed toward it, scrambling inside just as more undead figures emerged over the ridge.

Inside the cramped space, they pressed themselves against the cold stone walls, trying to stifle their heavy breathing. The moans and shuffling footsteps grew louder as the zombies neared their hiding spot.

“Do you think they saw us?” Lindiwe whispered, her voice trembling.

“I don’t know,” Thato replied, gripping her hand tightly. “We just have to stay quiet.”

Outside, the silhouettes of the undead passed by slowly, their grotesque forms casting eerie shadows that danced across the cave walls. After what felt like an eternity, the sounds began to fade, leaving only the distant echoes of chaos and the pounding of their own hearts.

Meanwhile, Noxolo and Chantelle had managed to put some distance between themselves and the campsite. They paused behind a thick cluster of trees, both struggling to catch their breath.

“Where are the others?” Chantelle asked, tears streaming down her face.

Noxolo shook her head, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I don’t know. We got separated.”

A sudden rustling nearby caused them both to tense up. Noxolo raised a finger to her lips, signalling for silence as they peered cautiously through the foliage.

Relief washed over them as they saw Ricardo and Melisha stumble into view, both looking dishevelled but alive.

“Ricardo! Melisha!” Noxolo called out softly, waving them over.

The pair hurried toward them, collapsing onto the ground in exhaustion.

“Did you see any of the others?” Ricardoo asked between gasps.

Noxolo’s face fell. “We saw Priya get attacked. I... I don’t think she made it.”

Melisha covered her mouth, stifling a sob. “What about David and Sizwe?”

Chantelle shook her head slowly. “We heard screams, but we couldn’t see anything. I’m sorry.”

The group sat in mournful silence, the weight of their losses heavy in the cold night air. The reality of their situation settled in—what had started as a fun getaway had turned into a nightmare beyond imagination.

Just then Marco emerged, looking wild-eyed and panicked.

“Marco!” They all said in unison, relieved to see him alive.

“Hey, guys. What the hell is going on?” He asked, his usual jokester vibe nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t know, but we can’t stay here,” Ricardo finally said, his voice firm despite the fear in his eyes. “Those things are still out there, and they’re fast.”

“Where do we go?” Melisha asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Noxolo squared her shoulders, determination replacing the terror that had previously consumed her. “There’s a ranger station not too far from here. If we can make it there, maybe we can ask for help.”

Chantelle nodded, wiping away her tears. “It’s our best shot.”

Together, the five of them rose, leaning on each other for strength as they ventured deeper into the forest, clinging to the hope of finding safety amid the unfolding horror.

Back in the forest, the bodies of their fallen friends lay scattered, lifeless and still, as the moon cast light on the devastation.

But this was only the beginning. Unknown to them, the chaos they had witnessed was unfolding across the nation, the undead rising and humanity’s survival hanging in the balance.

For Noxolo, Chantelle, Marco, Melisha and Ricardo, the fight was far from over. They had survived the night, but the dawn would bring new challenges and the sobering realisation that the world they knew had changed forever.