Silently, we all approach the pile of bodies. Most of them have decayed badly in the past few years and the smell is unbearably thick in the air.

"So we all know what we're looking for?" Henrietta asks. Everybody nods, "Good. Let's get searching."

We pull the first body from the pile. It's a young looking child with the throat brutally ripped out. The decaying body is in tatters, but it's clear that this was once a girl around my age.

Karen gags, but helps me move her to the side, out of the way.

The next body pulled out is headless and for some reason, half naked. Unfortunately, the boy is only wearing a shirt. I immediately cover Karen's eyes.

"Damn." Firkle whistles.

"This kid had one heck of a dick," Phillip pauses, instantly realising how weird that sentence was, "I'm just saying what we're all thinking."

"Nobody was thinking that." Henrietta rolls her eyes.

"Speak for yourself." Firkle snickers.

"You two are disgusting!" She groans.

With Phillip eyeing the massive dick and Karen having her eyes closed, we carefully remove the body and haul him away from the pile.

"This shirt is barely torn," I point out, "we could take it. We just might need to wash the blood off it."

"That's not a bad idea. I've been in these clothes for like, six months," Phillip says, "I'm sure these people have clothes in our size. It just might be hard for the shorty."

Everyone, minus Karen, looks at me and laughs. It takes me a second, but I realise they're making fun of my height.

"Hey! I'm not that short." I scowl.

"How tall are you? Four foot three?" Henrietta jokes.

"I'm five foot..." I mumble.

"Five foot what?"

"Just five foot."

They all burst out laughing again.

"Don't be mean! Trish can't help being short. It's just her crappy genes," Karen shouts, "I happen to like how short she is. It's kinda cute. And if you don't get back to looking for those keys, I'm going to pass out because the smell is awful."

Shocked into silence, the others begin to get back to work. They lift the bodies out of the pile and check for keys while Karen and I strip them of any decent looking clothing.
By the time we've shifted twelve or so bodies, we've got two outfits for everyone, the clothes just need to be washed and patched up.

"Hey! I think I see a lanyard," Henrietta excitedly shoved her hand into the pile. She keeps pushing and pushing until she's shoulder deep in the body pile, but, by some miracle, she pulls her arm out and she's holding a yellow lanyard with a key on the end, "we did it!"

"Finally, I'm about to pass out." Karen clutches her stomach.

"You do look a bit green," Phillip holds a hand to her forehead, "Jesus, you're burning up."

"Hopefully resting overnight will help. Let's go back inside." Henrietta pockets the lanyard and starts heading back for the school.

Firkle is the first to follow her, carrying a pile of dirty clothing, then Phillip, leaving me and Karen behind.
She's looking sadly at the bodies, stacked haphazardly in two different piles, most of them either naked from us stealing their clothes or already naked for some weird reason.

"You okay, babe?" I put a hand on her shoulder.

"I just..." she trails off, sighing sadly, "I can't stand looking at them like this. I mean, are we disrespecting them?"

"What do you mean?"

"We're stealing their clothes! Surely they're mad at us..."

"They're dead, baby. They can't feel anything anymore. And if we don't get inside soon, we might be too. I swear I can hear something moving on the other side of the fence."

With a nod, Karen slips her hand into mine and allows me to take her inside.

When we eventually return to the art department, it's oddly quiet. The pile of clothes Firkle carried inside has been dropped or left by the art room we decided to sleep in, but nobody is inside.

I try the handle, but the door is still locked.

"What's going on, Tricia?" Karen asks, "Are they in there?"

Upstairs, there's another loud thump, sounding like something heavy hit the floor.

"Can you wait here a sec? Like, in here or something?" I open up a supply closet and it seems like there's enough room in there for her, "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom."

She shakes her head and frowns at me, similarly to how my mom did when I did something wrong, the good ol' "I'm not mad, just disappointed" head shake.

"You don't need to lie to me. I know I'm sensitive, but I'm not a child," She crosses her arms, "I'm coming with you."

"I want you to be safe."

"I want you to be safe," Karen smiles, "you might need backup so I'm coming with you and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Fine." I sigh.

Karen smiles again and slips her hand back in mine.

We start making our way to the stairs near the front entrance, where a dusty 'wet floor' sign is lying horizontally across the steps.
Our footsteps echo in the empty corridor and the journey upstairs feels very strange, like we're in school during the weekend or something.

Once we reach the top of the steps, Karen squeezes my hand.

"Have you got a weapon?" She asks quietly as we start making our way towards the room making the noises, "what if it's a zombie?"

"I've got Phillip's knife but that's it," I pull it out and keep it by my side just in case of surprise attacks, although it would be unlikely since we checked the place out earlier, "Hey, wasn't the PE department up here? They might have something we could use."

"It's worth checking it out." Karen agrees.

The PE department is in the opposite direction of our destination, but we decide to go anyway.
The double doors leading to the changing rooms and the sports hall had been locked from the inside, but the glass has been smashed so we can unlock them. Said glass crunches beneath our feet as we head towards the sports hall.

The green floor squeaks with each step we take. The painted court lines have faded over time, but are still visible if you look hard enough. I can imagine students playing basketball in here, their sneakers squeaking, the ball thumping against their hands as it got passed around the players...

We reach the equipment cupboards which have been ransacked. Tennis rackets, shuttlecocks, ruined basketball nets and footballs cover the floor, the shelves broken with jagged wood poking out.

"Jesus," I mumble, "someone doesn't know how to tidy up after themselves."

Karen picks up a tennis racket which has somehow been bent and mines hitting a tennis ball.

"I haven't played sports in years." She whispers.

"Me neither. Hey, look!"

Hidden behind a bag of basketballs is a baseball bat with a purple handle. The smooth wood seems untouched, almost calling out to me.

"Take it. That'll do more damage than a tiny knife." Karen nudges me with her elbow.

With sweating palms, I grab the bat and twist it around in my hand until it feels comfortable.

"Wow. I feel powerful already." I grin.

"You look powerful," Karen agrees with a warm smile, "can I have your knife?"

"Sure." I pass it to her and she slips it into her jacket pocket.

"Let's go find the others. I hope they're okay."

"I'm sure they're fine, babe, they're probably just-"

I'm interrupted by a loud, blood curdling scream from the other side of the school.