Chapter 30: Suicide Mission

I, Sydney, Elena, Jason, Cindy and Christopher were the ones taking on the suicide mission to get hand on the radio in the Director’s room in the next building.

"Let’s stay close to each other," I said. The short wave radio on the roof represented our only hope of contacting the outside world, our single thread connecting us to rescue. But first, we had to survive the journey there.

The moment we stepped through the library’s threshold, I heard the desperate scraping and hammering behind us as the remaining students frantically reinforced their barricades.

Now we were on our own.

"At least the stairs to the fourth floor are close," Sydney whispered.

I nodded. "We don’t need to clear the fourth floor—just get past it to reach the roof access." My fingers tightened around the handle of my kitchen knife.

The stairwell stretched above us like a concrete throat, each step echoing softly despite our best efforts to move silently. I allowed myself a moment of hope—maybe, just maybe, we could reach the rooftop without encountering a single infected. Maybe this mission wouldn’t be the death sentence everyone expected it to be.

"You guys have good weapons..." Cindy’s voice broke through my optimistic thoughts, bitter disappointment dripping from every word as she stared at the box cutter I’d passed to her. It was a pathetic thing, really—my former weapon before I’d managed to upgrade to the kitchen knife. The blade was barely an inch long, more suited for opening packages than defending against creatures that could tear a person apart with their bare hands.

Christopher let out a hollow laugh, holding up his own weapon. "Still better than mine, Cindy." A pair of scissors?

They were the kind used for arts and crafts, not warfare against the undead.

I felt a pang of guilt looking at their makeshift weapons. "But you guys managed to clear the third floor and ground floor with such things, right?" I asked.

Cindy smiled wryly. "Yeah, but we used chairs as barriers to keep them from getting close. We worked together as a group—that was Alisha’s idea becasue that idiot Scott got nearly all of us killed at first.

"As expected of her..." I muttered.

The remaining students survived thanks to her smart contingency plan before they could get all killed it seems.

But intelligence could only stretch makeshift weapons so far. A box cutter and scissors were pitiful against creatures with the abnormal strength of the infected, though I supposed they were better than nothing. At least they were better than what Jason had—which was essentially nothing at all.

I glanced back at Jason, who had picked up another pair of scissors from the library’s supply closet. His hands shook as he held them, and I could see the internal battle playing out across his features. "I’m not really good at killing," he had admitted quietly when we were preparing to leave. "I’d prefer to avoid it if possible."

I hadn’t pressed him on why he’d volunteered for this mission if he wasn’t prepared to fight. Maybe it was guilt, maybe desperation, or maybe he simply couldn’t bear to stay behind while others risked their lives. Whatever his reasons, another pair of hands—even reluctant ones—could prove helpful.

We moved through the building in a formation I’d hastily devised, hoping it would give us the best chance of survival. I took point, my kitchen knife ready, with Sydney and Elena close behind. Sydney gripped her own kitchen knife with white knuckles, while Elena hefted her broken chair leg with both hands. Jason followed alone in the middle, isolated but protected, while Christopher and Cindy brought up the rear, watching our backs with their inadequate but determined weapons.

The climb to the fourth floor felt endless. When we finally reached the landing, I held up a hand, signaling for absolute silence. The door to the fourth floor loomed before us, scratched and dented from previous encounters.

I pressed my ear against the cold metal, straining to hear what lay beyond. Low, guttural growls drifted through the barrier—the clear sound of infected, but thankfully distant. My heart hammered against my ribs as I slowly turned the handle and opened the door just a crack.

The hallway stretched before us. I could see the rooftop access door at the far end—so close, yet it might as well have been miles away. Between us and salvation, I counted at least three infected shambling aimlessly through the corridor. The others might be thankfully in the corners branch of the corridors.

But then I froze when I noticed—a card reader mounted next to the rooftop door, its small LED light blinking red in the darkness.

"There’s a card reader," I whispered, turning back to Elena and the others.

Christopher smiled at me. "Yeah, but they stopped working after everything collapsed. We still have electricity, but I don’t know for how long."

I nodded, seizing onto this small piece of good news. If the security systems were down, we might actually have a chance.

"Alright," I said. "I’ll go first to secure the door. We need to make as little sound as possible. Their eyesight isn’t great, but any noise could trigger them." The plan was simple, desperate, and probably stupid—but it was all we had.

The others nodded, their faces pale but determined.

I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves, and slipped through the door into the hallway. The smell hit me immediately—the sickly sweet stench of decay mixed with something metallic and wrong. It was really impossible to get used to this smell.

Sydney held the door open behind me as I left. I crouched low, making myself as small as possible. Each step felt like it took an eternity.

The infected continued their mindless wandering, oblivious to my presence. One repeatedly walked into the wall with dull thuds, maybe its damaged brain unable to process the obstacle. Another stood swaying in place, its head tilted at an unnatural angle. They were once people—teachers, students, janitors—but now they were just empty shells driven by an insatiable hunger.

When I finally reached the rooftop door, I gripped the bloodied handle. I ignored the unease I felt and wrapped my fingers around the cold metal and pulled, praying it would open silently. The door swung wide, revealing the stairway to the roof, and I positioned myself behind it to hide from the infected still lurking in the hallway.

I caught Sydney’s eye and nodded. One by one, they crossed the danger zone. Jason moved with surprising stealth despite his obvious terror, his face ghost-white but serious. Elena followed, her broken chair leg ready for action. Cindy and Christopher brought up the rear, their makeshift weapons gripped tightly in their hands.

When everyone had made it safely through, I eased the door closed with agonizing slowness, holding my breath until I heard the soft click of the latch. We’d made it past the first obstacle.

"Phew, that was scary," Cindy whispered, her voice shaky with relief.

Sydney wiped sweat from her forehead despite the cold. "Let’s hope the roof is empty."

I tried to project confidence I didn’t feel. "It’s the rooftop, so there shouldn’t be many up there." The logic seemed sound—how many infected could have made it to the roof before the outbreak spread? But even as I said it, a nagging voice in the back of my mind whispered warnings.

The stairs to the roof were narrow and steep, our footsteps echoing softly in the confined space.

Finally, we reached the top. The rooftop access door stood before us, heavy and metallic, with small windows that had been painted over long ago. This was it—our moment of truth. I reached out with my hand hand, grasped the cold metal handle, and slowly began to turn it.

The door opened with a soft groan, and immediately I was face to face with our worst nightmare. The rooftop wasn’t empty—far from it. At least ten infected stood scattered across the concrete surface.

One of them, a former security guard still wearing the tattered remains of his uniform, noticed the movement of the door opening. His head snapped toward me with unnatural speed, revealing a face that was barely recognizable as human. His jaw hung at an impossible angle, half-eaten and exposing yellowed teeth and blackened gums.

"Shit," I breathed.

I slammed the door shut just as the creature lunged forward. The impact of his body hitting the metal barrier sent vibrations through my arms, followed immediately by the horrible sound of fingernails scraping against steel as he clawed desperately at the door.

"How many?" Elena asked, trying to hold back her panic.

I sighed. "Around ten."

Jason’s face went from pale to absolutely white, and he swayed on his feet as if he might faint. "T...Ten?!"

"The administration building should be right there," I said, pointing through the small window in the door toward the left side of the rooftop. Through the grimy glass, I could just make out the edge of the neighboring building, tantalizingly close yet separated by what looked like a significant gap. "We might have to break into a run and... jump."

Jumping between buildings was something you saw in action movies, not something a group of terrified survivors attempted in real life. But what choice did we have?

Cindy nodded but she seemed perplexed. "But any of these things could catch us while we’re trying to jump," she whispered. "What if we don’t make it? What if—"

"We have to be fast," Isaid. My eyes met Christopher’s. "Christopher and I can push them back, create a clear path for a few seconds while the others jump."

Christopher looked down at the pathetic pair of scissors in his hand, then back up at me with a grimace. "Well, I’m okay with the plan, but..." He held up the scissors. "It’s going to be pretty hard to push back creatures with abnormal strength using arts and crafts supplies."

Yeah it was kind of absurd.

But before I could say anything, Elena stepped forward without hesitation.

"Elena, can you give him your—" I started.

"Yeah," she cut me off, immediately extending her broken chair leg toward Christopher. There was no selfishness in her gesture, no hesitation—just the understanding that Christopher would need the better weapon if he was going to protect the others.

Christopher grasped the makeshift club, testing its weight and balance. A smile crossed his face as he felt the solid wood in his hands. "This should do the work." He tossed the scissors to Elena, who caught them with a resigned sigh. "Here, take these."

Elena looked at the scissors with the same enthusiasm one might reserve for a particularly unappetizing meal, but she gripped them tightly nonetheless.

I took a deep breath, running through the strategy one more time in my head. "Okay, here’s how this works. I’ll slam the door open and push the first infected away. Christopher and I go out first, then you follow behind us. While we keep the sides clear, you jump one by one to the next roof." I paused, looking at each of their faces. "Who among you feels the most confident about jumping first?"

The question was crucial—the first jump would set the tone for everything that followed. If the first person made it safely, it would give the others courage. If they didn’t... I couldn’t bear to think about the psychological impact of watching someone fall to their death just before attempting the same leap.

To my surprise, Jason raised his trembling hand first. His voice shook as he spoke, but there was something different in his eyes—a steely resolve I hadn’t seen before. "I... I’m confident in jumping."

I looked at his face, remembering his earlier comment about being good at climbing. Maybe his athletic background would serve him well here. "Alright, next?"

"I’ll go second," Sydney replied.

"Third," Cindy added next.

"Fourth," Elena said quietly, already mentally preparing herself for what was to come.

"Then Christopher and I will bring up the rear," I concluded, glancing at my companion who nodded. We’d be the last line of defense, the ones to ensure everyone else made it safely before attempting our own escape.

I gave everyone a moment to mentally prepare themselves, watching as they each dealt with their fear in their own way. Jason was stretching his legs, limbering up like an athlete before a competition. Sydney stood with her eyes closed, breathing deeply and steadily. Cindy was speaking with Christopher, smiling, while Elena seemed to be calculating distances and angles with the precision of an engineer.

Despite never having jumped between rooftops before, I felt a strange confidence building within me, something told me I could pull this off.

"Ready?" I asked Christopher, who responded with a fierce grin.

"Yeah. Let’s do this."

I took several steps back, building momentum, then launched myself at the door with every ounce of strength I possessed. My foot connected with the metal barrier with a resounding crash, and the door flew open so violently that the infected who had been clawing at it was sent sprawling backward across the concrete.

Immediately, every pair of milky, dead eyes on the rooftop turned toward us. The infected began shambling in our direction.

Christopher and I burst onto the rooftop first, our weapons ready. The others followed close behind, and we quickly formed our defensive formation—Christopher taking the right flank while I covered the left, creating a protective corridor down the middle for the others to move through.

BANG!

I glanced over to see Christopher bringing his chair leg down with devastating force on one of the infected. The creature crumpled to the ground, its skull caved in from the impact. Christopher stood over the fallen monster, breathing hard but grinning with savage satisfaction.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, feeling a surge of confidence. Having this guy as backup suddenly felt a lot more reassuring.

We fought our way across the rooftop, step by step. I swung my kitchen knife in wide arcs, keeping the infected at bay.

Finally, we reached the edge of the building. The gap between our rooftop and the administration building stretched before us. It was maybe eight feet across—definitely jumpable for someone in good shape and confident, but terrifying nonetheless. Far below, I could see more infected wandering the streets, tiny figures that would become very large and very deadly if any of us fell.

All eyes turned to Jason, who had volunteered to go first. I watched his face transform from fear to focused determination as he backed up several steps from the edge. His expression was completely serious now, all traces of his earlier nervousness gone. This was a different Jason—confident, athletic, prepared.

He broke into a run. At the edge, he launched himself into space with the fluid motion of someone who had done this before—maybe not between buildings, but certainly in track and field or gymnastics. He sailed across the gap with room to spare, landing smoothly on the other side and rolling to absorb the impact.

"I... I did it!" His laughter rang out across the rooftops, pure joy and relief mixing in his voice.

"Sydney, you’re next!" I shouted, punctuating my words by driving my foot into the chest of an approaching infected. The creature stumbled backward into two of its companions, buying us precious seconds.

But even as I fought, I kept glancing toward Sydney with worry gnawing at my stomach. Could she really pull off such a jump? She seemed agile enough, but there was a big difference between being nimble and launching yourself across an eight-foot gap three stories above the street.

My concerns proved unfounded. Sydney approached the jump with the same calm focus I’d seen her display throughout our ordeal. She took her running start, hit the edge with perfect timing, and sailed across the gap with surprising ease. Her landing was just as smooth as Jason’s, complete with a professional-looking roll that would have made a gymnast proud.

"Nice!" Jason called out, helping her to her feet.

Cindy was up next. She took several deep breaths, backing up to give herself running room.

"You better come back alive, Chris," she said to Christopher.

Christopher paused in his battle with two infected to flash her that cocky grin of his. "No way I’m leaving you behind. You can’t survive alone."

Despite everything, Cindy actually rolled her eyes and smiled at his response. Then she took a deep breath, ran forward, and jumped.

Her form wasn’t as perfect as the others—the jump was more desperate than graceful—but she made it across, barely catching the metal safety rail on the other side. For a heart-stopping moment, she dangled there, feet scrambling for purchase.

"I got you!" Sydney immediately rushed to help, grabbing Cindy’s arms and hauling her up to safety.

I saw Christopher’s shoulders sag with relief, and I felt the same tension leave my own body. She’d made it. Three down, three to go.

"Elena," I called out, smashing my kitchen knife into the shoulder of an infected that had gotten too close.

Elena nodded once.

She took her position, measured the distance with her eyes, then ran forward and jumped. Her leap was higher than the others, almost too high, and for a terrifying moment I thought she might overshoot the building entirely. But she managed to catch the handrail, executing a perfect somersault that would have impressed an Olympic gymnast before landing squarely on her feet.

"Woah..." I breathed, genuinely impressed by the athletic display.

"Hey man!" Christopher’s voice snapped me back to reality just as an infected lunged toward me from my blind spot. Christopher’s chair leg connected with the creature’s skull, sending it sprawling. "Don’t lose your focus!"

"Y...yeah, my bad," I stammered, shaking off my amazement. "Go ahead, Christopher. Your turn."

He hesitated, glancing between me and the remaining infected. "You sure you can handle them alone?"

"Yeah, go!" I insisted.

"Then take this!" He pressed the broken chair leg into my hands.

Christopher stepped back, and I could see him mentally preparing for the jump. Despite his cocky exterior, I caught a glimpse of genuine nervousness in his eyes. But then his trademark smirk returned, and he winked at Cindy on the other side.

His run was confident, his jump powerful, and his landing smooth. He rolled to his feet on the other side, immediately turning to scan for my approach. Cindy threw her arms around him the moment he stood up, and I couldn’t help but smile at their reunion despite our dire circumstances.

Now it was just me and the remaining infected on the rooftop.

I hefted the chair leg. I swung it in a wide arc, catching two infected across their midsections and sending them tumbling backward.

"Come on then," I muttered to the remaining creatures, backing toward the edge. "Let’s finish this."

I threw the chair leg like a javelin at the closest infected, watching it strike the creature center mass and knock it flat. Then, without looking back, I turned and sprinted toward the edge of the building.

The gap rushed toward me, and I could see the gazes of others. At the last moment, I planted my foot on the edge and launched myself into space—

But something went wrong.

My foot hit something slippery on the concrete—blood, maybe, or some other fluid I didn’t want to think about. Instead of the solid launch I’d planned, I felt my foot slide, robbing my jump of precious momentum and power.

I stretched desperately toward the other building, my fingers barely catching the metal safety rail. For a moment, relief flooded through me—I’d made it, barely, but I’d made it.

Then I heard the ominous creak of metal under stress.

"No way!" I gasped, watching in horror as the rail began to bend under my weight. The metal was old, corroded, never designed to catch a full-grown person falling from height.

I felt my grip slipping, my fingers sliding along the deteriorating metal. I was about to fall three stories to the infected-filled street below when a strong hand clamped around my wrist.

Elena. She’d thrown herself flat on the rooftop, reaching down to grab me just as I lost my hold on the failing rail.

"Grasp my other hand—" She started to say, but her words cut off in a grunt of strain. My weight was too much for her alone, and I felt her being dragged toward the edge.

Christopher and Sydney rushed forward, reaching out desperately, but they were just inches short as both Elena and I slipped over the edge together.