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“Sorry,” she said, “but seriously, move it.”
“I am. You’re in my way.”
As soon as she’d landed, I leaned forward and threw myself over, bracing for a hard fall.
Luke grabbed me before I could hit the ground, his breath warm on my neck. It was nothing—it meant nothing—but the contact startled me.
“You good?”
I nodded quickly, my throat tight. His mouth was too close to my ear. “Thanks.”
When my feet met the mulch, I tried to step away from him, but the strap of my crossbody bag yanked me back against the fence. Pain bloomed across my collarbone, and I half twisted around, fumbling for it as Luke and Kirby crowded me.
On the other side of the fence, the dead were mere steps away, with the same grey-toned skin and milky eyes I remembered from the airport.
They were too close. I couldn’t get the slack I needed to pull the strap over my head.
“Leave it,” Luke said as the first infected reached for my hair.
The man’s shirt was soaked through, dark and shiny across the chest, fabric clinging to ruined flesh. Another infected joined him, her eye so badly injured that it dangled from its socket.
Gargles and low groans bubbled up from their throats, and the stench was so intense I could taste it. Saliva flooded my mouth, my stomach turning.
“Forget the bag!” Kirby shouted.
Everything that meant something to me was in there. Photos on my phone. Keys to my sister’s place and mine. The last pieces of normality.
“No—there’s—” I pulled harder, throwing my entire weight into the movement, and the strap gave way with a sudden snap.
I stumbled into Luke, and he shoved my shoulders. “Go.”
Kirby grabbed my elbow, and the three of us bolted for the side door.
Behind us, the first body collided with the fence and rattled the bars. Another clang echoed through the night, followed by more when the dead gathered, hands reaching through the gaps.
“Move, move, move,” Kirby hissed.
Luke reached the door first, clutching the handle and shoving. Nothing happened.
The fence shook again, louder this time. More infected were joining the initial group, drawn by the noise.
“We need a brick or something,” Kirby said.
I searched the ground for an object solid enough to break glass. The play equipment was too big. No toys were lying around.
“Here we go.” Luke shoved his hand into a bush where a flash of teal glowed, grabbing a steel water bottle one of the adults had left behind.
The moans at the fence blended together, rising in volume.
What would happen when they couldn’t see us anymore? Would they walk away?
Luke faced the door and pulled his arm back. The first hit of the bottle cracked the glass, then the second shattered it.
I held my breath and waited for an alarm, but only silence followed.
He tossed the bottle aside and reached through the gap, unlocking the door from the inside. As Kirby and I rushed into the building, he went back and grabbed the two packs.
I stopped in the middle of the room, my heart pounding in my ears.
