ELIZABETH MAY SAUVETERRE
I take a few seconds to comprehend the sight of walkers heading towards Phineas Carter. His high-pitch scream snaps me from my daze. He reminds me of Mariah Carey and her annoying Christmas songs. I take a full second to decide if I should help him out.
It will be inhumane of me to leave him there.
I desperately need the extra help, too.
I glance around me to see foldable tables everywhere. An idea creeps in my head.
"Phineas!" I charge straight at him and grab his collar. I don't give a fuck if he's the president.
Whadda 'ya know? He can run. The walkers are very slow, but with their accumulating numbers, it's hard to escape from a corner.
"What do we do?!" he shouts frantically. His bald head is full of sweat and his office wear is messy and wet. The strict disciplinarian illusion is no longer there. For once, it feels refreshing to know there are new sides of people to them.
So hopeless… So distraught.
I quickly go over the tables, "Help me barricade the stairs with these," I tell him. He obliges.
There are over five staircases in the school. There's one in each corner and an outlet from the kitchen to the end of the first hall. I put up tables on top of one another as fast as my limbs can permit me. But as soon as I finish putting the last table, I hear a groan.
Without thinking, I swing the crowbar. A kid falls on the floor, and for a second there, my heart jumps.
Chill, Sauveterre. It's dead already.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I finally finish barricading the other three. It's all science how I'm able to lift these tables easily. I meet Phineas halfway by the quadrangle who's already out of breath after just one staircase.
"I think we know who needs gym class more," I snicker. He glares at me. Without another word, I take his hand and we sneak behind the horde of undead. They're practically maple syrup on pancakes at how fast they're filling up the place. I check the clock by the cafeteria.
10:59 a.m.
One hour left before students go out.
I curse under my breath. Who knew playing hero is blind as fuck patriotic?
We quietly sneak back to the clinic where the kitchen and staff room are just beside it. The large divider that covers these areas is big enough for the walkers to mistake it as a wall, but it won't be for long. Noise coming from the kitchen reaches my ears, and Phineas and I share a glance.
"It's the only way up," I whisper. He quivers. "Why?"
I blink. "I'm sorry you're stupid. To the radio room."
He gasps at my insult and is about to lecture me, but I slap a hand on his mouth to shut him up. "You no longer have any power over anyone at this point so I suggest you save it for later," I say.
I tiptoe to the kitchen to peer inside, only to find a crowd already hanging out. I mentally curse. It's a party over here.
I signal to Phineas to go back; he does.
Then, I hear a scream.
I widen my eyes at Phineas who is holding his left foot, but just when I'm about to curse him off, the kitchen doors kick open. "Damn you, you gay principal!" I scream and drag him by the shirt. Behind us, a horde of undead is following us–much faster than I expect and we find ourselves surrounded by the cafeteria.
My heartbeat rings in my ears as I try to think of a way out. Damn this gay shit!
Just when I can't think of anything, my eyes set down on one staircase. The stairs I took earlier with Desiree. A thin gap over the tables is visible from here and without wasting a second, I grab a lone table while dragging Phineas.
I shove Phineas through the gap as fast as I can. He mindlessly gets in like jelly. I shut the entrance with the last table in hand, but a hand wriggles in and almost snatches my hair. "Eck!" Phineas yelps when one gropes his ass. "The hell were you being sloppy for, motherfucker? You could have gotten us killed!" I yell.
He flinches from my voice but says nothing. I roll my eyes.
Who's the fucking adult now?
"Come on," I groan. I push him lightly forward, but he stumbles on the steps.
"Get on your feet, princess. Don't wanna look weak in front of a girl." I taunt. He swats my hand. Ooh, someone's angry.
"Have you forgotten that I'm your principal?" he wheezes between breaths. "Again with that?" I ask.
"I'll explain it in a way you'll understand," I start. "You no longer have any power here, princess principal. Now that we're in this archaic pandemic you seem to refuse to accept." I jab my finger behind me to emphasize my message.
"Don't call me princess," he grumbles. I sigh in disbelief. "Selective attention much?"
We stride through the first hallway, our shoes the only sounds that echo. From a corner, a massive shadow looms over the wall in front, and as you guess, it's not human. Its body staggers to the direction of its head–a hopeless dead.
The corner of my lips peels back. Ugh, that smell.
Phineas quivers behind me in fear, hiding in my shadow. Before it can lift its head, I hit its face with the bloody crowbar. Its head neatly disconnects from its body in a flash. The carcass hits the floor and splotchy blood splatters everywhere. I stare at the head when I notice something.
"This one's dead already," I conclude. "Don't think me stupid for a second–let me talk," I clear out.
Phineas raises a brow, "But I said nothing."
I snicker.
"His blood is splotchy and his flesh is bloated, unlike the rest," I remark. I nudge his torso with my foot, only for my shoes to soak. Ew!
"What do you mean?" Phineas asks.
"This walker must have drowned, which could explain his bloated state and splotchy blood," I answer. "But that's impossible! The pool area is closed for renovation," he argues. I roll my eyes. "Come on; let's get to the radio room."
I grab his wrist, but he recoils so fast from my touch like a burn.
"What?" I seethe. I won't lie - that fucking hurt.
"If you must know, Sauveterre, I'm gay. I'd like it if you don't touch me so familiarly," he admits. My brows furrow.
What the actual fuck?
"What's so funny?" he asks when I laugh.
I throw the crowbar at him. He shrieks at the top of his lungs when blood smears all over his outfit. I laugh even harder.
He's cute. If I didn't need an extra pair of hands earlier, I might have just left him for good. Thanks to that, he'll be my newest source of entertainment. "You're cute–I'll keep you," I mumble.
Let's only pray the Wicked Witch of the West–the real Liza Sauveterre–doesn't make a comeback. Nicolette and Jee Ho certainly don't want another accident.
"Oh honey," I coax. "Don't you worry your pretty ass about 'Lil old me."
His brow flattens at my assurance. "Then who are you interested in?"
It's weird talking about mate preferences with a former principal, but I answer his question. "I'm interested in dumb but well-built, good-looking guys. I can assert my dominance while bringing good eye candy."
"Like who?"
"Like you."