J. Knoll - Zoe, Undead

Running tirelessly all the way to the school, which was a rather large, two story building, she found herself running toward the front entrance, which was brick with formed stone columns that held up the overhang of the roof that projected over the sidewalk out front almost all the way to the circular drive where buses would pause to unload students. Cars were parked here almost randomly as well and a few looked like they had crashed, one into the side of the school building.

One of the doors was standing wide open and she ran inside. In her mind she would find some of the staff she trusted in the offices she was used to. The main office was down the main hall off to the right and she ran toward it. Reaching the door, she pulled on the handle and found the door locked.

Looking through the window and into the office, she banged on the door with her fist and called as loudly as she could, "Miss Simpson! Miss Simpson, open the door!"

A big, gray hand slammed into the window from one side and Zoe screamed and back pedaled, her wide eyes locked on the zombie that moved into view on the other side of the window. This was another big one who wore a business suit and still had a tie on. He had the same pale gray eyes as the one she had seen in the house, but his pupils were very small, unnaturally small.

Her gaze locked on his, she backed away, halfway across the hall before running into something, and she spun around to find herself face to face with yet another zombie. This one was dressed in the denim coveralls of someone who worked in landscaping and had thin and scraggly looking white hair. He was a horrifying sight as he stared down at her and she screamed again and sprinted blindly away from him.

Finding an open classroom she was familiar with, she ran inside and turned to close the door, backing away from it as she struggled to catch her breath. Any second she expected one of the gray skinned zombies to come in after her and she spun around, looking for a way out should they find her. The desks were still lined up and awaiting students, the teacher's desk facing them with the white dry erase board clean and ready for the next school year. She found nobody inside and felt those pangs of panic begin to grow worse.

A moan outside of the door drew her attention and she wheeled around, backing away as a shadow fell over the door's window. Backing into a desk, she shrieked as it made a horrible scrape on the floor, then she turned back and fixed her horrified eyes on the shadow that moved across the doorway. That child's terrified cry sounded from her as she watched the door handle shake, then work downward. Desperately, she looked around her, and fixed her attention on one of the windows with a book shelf right below it. Sprinting to it, she brushed the few books from the top of it and climbed onto it, setting the pillow case down just long enough to unlatch the window and push it up. When the door latch clicked loudly, she looked over her shoulder with wide eyes and a scream exploded from her as she saw it slowly pushed open.

Hurling herself out the window, Zoe landed awkwardly and came to rest on her side. Hitting the ground like this did not hurt like she expected it to and she scrambled up, and as she started to run she stopped and wheeled back to the school, back to the window where she could still see her bag on top of the book shelf. Her eyes found the zombie as he stood in the doorway and just watched her and she reached through the window and snatched the pillow case before turning to run as fast as she could away from the school.

A long run was ahead of her back toward her house and she found herself standing at the end of the walkway to the front door, staring into the darkness of the house through the broken in front door. She was sure there were more zombies inside and was terrified at the prospect of them seeing her. Her gaze swept her street, looking for any movement, but there was none. The only sounds that reached her were birds and the wind in the few trees. She felt alone and afraid and tears filled her eyes. She also felt hungry. Looking back to the house, she knew she could find food in there, something to fix herself for dinner.

Too scary.

Hearing a muffled moan from inside the house, she backed away a few steps, then turned and trotted down the street.

There was one place she had not visited yet, a place she had always been made to feel welcome.

About an hour before sundown, the grocery store door slid open in front of her as it always did. She always watched it, just wondering what made it open when she walked toward it, and this evening would be no different. As she walked into the store, she turned and watched it close.

"Three seconds," she said absently. "It always takes three seconds." Looking down to her watch, she read the time aloud. "Seven twenty-four." Her eyes scanned the inside of the store and she absently said, "Spaghetti-O's are on aisle twenty-nine."

She knew the quickest way there and strode with purpose in that direction, stopping right in front of where she knew them to be. Absently, she had observed what a mess the store was, but something was on her mind, a specific mission that consumed her. Now, her objective was in her sights, right in front of her.

Zoe picked a can up and looked it over. No pull top on this one and she did not have a can opener. Putting it back in place, she reached to the smaller cans on the shelf right below, the single serving cans. She took a few seconds to look around her to be sure nobody was watching, then she slipped it into her bag and turned to leave the store.

Halfway down the aisle, she stopped and looked back to the shelf she had gotten the can from. Even with everything that was going on, she was afraid of getting caught. Drawing a breath, she tucked the bear under her arm and took the can from the bag, staring down at it for long seconds before she grudgingly took it back toward the shelf.

And there she stood, torn between her worsening hunger and her fear of punishment. Looking to the shelf, her brow shot up as she saw the can that included meatballs! Putting the first can back, she took a single serve can with meatballs and stared down at it for a few seconds before she slipped it into her sack, then another, and another.

Kitchen wares was surely where she could find a spoon and a bowl. Somehow, she finally had convinced herself that there was nobody in the store to scold her and slowly walked down the aisle where she could find a spoon and a bowl. The spoon was easy, but came in a pack of a hundred. She only took one. The bowl was a different matter. There were too many to choose from, and this was giving her a difficult time. A little further down her mind was made up and she smiled as she saw the pink plastic bowls in a neat stack one shelf over her head.

Surely the break room in the back had a microwave.

Entering cautiously, Zoe looked around to be sure the place was empty. Confident she would be alone within the large break room; she still entered hesitantly, her eyes panning back and forth for anything that might surprise her from the shadows.

There! At the end of the room on a kitchen counter near a single bowl sink was a small white microwave oven. She stood in front of it for a moment as she studied it. It had a dial on it, not buttons like the one at home, and she found herself trying to figure out how to operate it. Trial and error worked and she figured out it would turn on automatically when she turned the dial.

With her Spaghetti-O's sufficiently warmed in her pink bowl, she found a table nearby and sat down to eat, only to realize that she had nothing to drink. Looking to the door, she realized that she would have to brave the horrors of the open store to find something, but it seemed worth it.

Moments later she returned with a small bottle of strawberry milk and sat back down. While she ate, she took the time to study the room and found herself staring at a comfortable looking couch. That might be a good place to spend the night.