The chaos outside grew louder, but nothing could have prepared us for what happened next. As we cautiously peeked out into the hallway, the first zombie stumbled into view. It was a former janitor, his uniform torn and bloodied, his milky eyes staring blankly ahead. His head jerked unnaturally as he staggered closer, dragging one leg behind him.

For a moment, we froze, unable to believe what we were seeing. Then he snarled and lunged toward us with alarming speed.

“Run!” someone screamed.

We turned and sprinted down the hallway, adrenaline surging through our veins. As we fled, more zombies appeared, emerging from classrooms and around corners. Their numbers grew rapidly, and soon they were rushing the hallway, their grotesque forms moving with horrifying determination.

“There’s too many of them!” Emma yelled, her voice nearly drowned out by the cacophony of growls and pounding footsteps.

Spotting an open classroom door, we darted inside, slamming it shut just as the first wave of zombies reached it. A heavy thud reverberated through the door as they began pounding against it. Inside, we found a few other students huddled in terror. They looked at us with wide eyes, their faces streaked with sweat and dirt.

“Help us block the doors and windows!” I shouted.

Together, we grabbed desks, chairs, and whatever else we could find to reinforce the barricades. The survivors joined in, working quickly and silently. The growls and thuds outside grew more intense, but the barricades held—for now.

We stood there, catching our breath and gripping makeshift weapons. No one spoke, but the fear in the room was palpable. It was only the beginning, and we all knew it.