Chapter four : Cassie

My dumbass is reveling in the thrill this whole mess has brought into my life. I’m living the moment -- riding this beat-up cycle through the night, weaving around scattered zombies on the road. They can’t really see me if I keep my distance, and the darkness is on my side.

Does this make me a bad person? That I feel like I finally belong -- but only in the middle of a f*****g apocalypse? I didn’t even flinch when I decapitated Elizabeth earlier. I should’ve hesitated more, like a normal person. But I didn’t.

The moon hangs overhead, silver light spilling through the trees. I think I feel… at ease. But it’s not just the freedom. It’s the strange calm in the chaos -- like I’ve stopped fighting against the world and just started moving with it. The night feels alive around me, quiet but full, carrying the rustle of leaves and the soft hum of things moving unseen.
I don’t have to pretend anymore.
I can just be me. There’s no one around. No eyes on me. At least, not that I’m aware of.
I take a slow, deep breath, letting the cold night air fill my lungs with the sharp scent of trees, night, and my newfound freedom.
Hola demons. Cassie is f*****g free.

Alright. Time to stop feeling free and start panicking. The cafeteria's crawling with zombies. BUT WHYYYY. I NEED FOOD.
So do they
Okay that's fair.
Thankfully, the lights inside are off. I carefully lean the bike against the wall just outside. I can sneak in through the backdoor to the kitchen -- that’s where they keep the good stuff anyway.
What if there are zombies there too, genius?
Let’s just hope there aren’t.
Dumb ways to die~
Shut up demons. If there are any zombie there, I'll walk the f**k out before they even notice. No big deal.
I circle the building, sticking to the shadows, all the way to the back. Peeking through the windows, I catch a glimpse inside -- they look nasty as f**k. Sure, I’ve watched enough zombie movies, but nothing could’ve prepared me for how gross they are in real life.

I tiptoe up to the backdoor. Okay, please, for the love of god -- don’t be locked. And if you are one of those screechy-a*s doors, I swear I’ll cry.
The handle turns smoothly. Barely a sound.
Thank f**k.
It’s pitch-black inside, but the little bit of moonlight spilling through helps. I don’t shut the door -- not about to trap myself inside. The kitchen’s separated from the seating area by a long counter. Honestly, the odds of a zombie sneaking in behind me are way lower than one climbing over the counter to rip me apart.

So, I drop to my knees, crawling low and quiet, eyes scanning for supplies.
Eggs. Okay, not ideal, but I’ll eat them raw if I have to.
Leftover Chinese. And-- holy s**t -- Korean fried chicken. Our cafeteria’s famous for it.
What if there’s zombie blood on this stuff?
I squint around the room. No signs of a struggle, no blood. Looks like the staff bailed before things went south.
I slide off my backpack and carefully set down the chainsaw. I need non-perishables, not just comfort food.
Rummaging through the shelves, I strike gold: peanut butter, granola bars, trail mix, beef jerky, canned everything. Holy moly, thank you, universe. I totally owe you one.
I load up the backpack as much as I can -- god knows how long until I find food again. My knees hurt from crawling, but I’m grinning like an idiot, stuffing snacks into my bag like it’s a Black Friday sale.
Then --
A sharp buzz rattles through the dark.
I freeze.
What the hell?
Not my phone.
I definitely turned mine off.
I tilt my head up slowly… and there it is: someone’s damn phone sitting on the counter, cheerfully ringing its way straight into my death sentence.
Oh, for f**k’s sake.
Really? Right now?
I don’t even get to think before I hear the sound from the front.
Tables crashing. Snarling. Clattering footsteps. No slow shuffle. No warning groans.
The zombies explode into motion -- tearing over chairs, smashing into each other, lunging straight toward the kitchen. Toward me.
You’ve got to be f*****g kidding me.
I clutch the chainsaw tighter.
Guess I’m not walking out of here as quietly as I thought.

“Great job, universe,” I mutter under my breath, stumbling toward the back door. “Really nailed the timing on this one.”

Run baby, run, run for your life.
Okay, demons -- seriously, could you not right now? I’m running for my actual life here. I’d appreciate it if you shut the f**k up, thank you.
If I run fast enough I can make it to the cycle and be off before they catch up to me. Off to where though? Oh f**k I didn't think that far ahead. Cafeteria, then what? I don't f*****g know. I'm totally screwed.
I barrel out the back door, as fast as my legs can carry me. I practically launch myself onto the cycle, nearly tipping it over, but somehow I manage to stay upright.
I take the path with the fewest zombies, weaving through the dark, pushing forward, not daring to slow down. I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I need to be anywhere but here. Anywhere I’m not being chased down by a horde of zombies and ripped apart.
And for now, that’s enough.