text: [Themes: sci-fi, post-apocalyptic]
  
  You figure it will be wise to stay with the brains of the operation and so you walk over to Mike and Dr. Verrukt. Mike gives you a soft high five and smiles a little. Dr. Verrukt gives the other groups direction.
  
  "Right this way, then," Destiny says, reaching for the door handle; James a few steps behind. He looks back at you and sneers a little. You watch the sway of Destiny's hips as she steps out of the room. You glance up to catch Christie's eyes glowering at you from across the room. Busted. Haha. So much for a follow up kiss.
  
  "Let's go," The small teacher says; leading you and Mike into the hall. He leads you to the trash can line, which has somehow been knocked over. You notice that everything is covered in a layer of dust. It wouldn't take an expert tracker to follow anyone, Destiny and James' prints are practically glowing against the dirty floors.
  
  "It's so quiet," Mike comments in a whisper from beside you.
  
  "Yes," Dr. Verrukt says. "Let's be careful here. The first sign of trouble and we head back to room 413, understood?" Verrukt doesn't wait for an answer but you catch Mike nodding obediently as the doctor leads you straight ahead down Math hall.
  
  Dust covers everything in a thick sheet everywhere you go. The school is quiet, each step taken sounds deafening. Dr. Verrukt opens the study hall door with a loud, slow creek. It was unsettling to see so many empty desks in such a large room. Some of the desks were turned over in a path to the doorway, the metal legs of overturned chairs glinted from the flashlights.
  
  "The floor is sticky here," you tell them.
  
  "Shhh," Mike says. "Does anyone else hear that?" He shines his light around until it settles on a dark form on the ground on the far side of the room.
  
  "What is it," you ask.
  
  "I don't know," Mike says. The form starts moving and the flashlight catches the gleam of a pair of eyes. Dr. Verrukt shines his light on the form as well and it is enough to make out the upper torso of a man in a shirt and tie trying to crawl down the aisle toward them with only his arms. The man growls and snarls as he moves, his entrails dragging behind him.
  
  "Time to leave boys," Dr. Verrukt says, retreating to the doorway. You and Mike follow closely behind. The moment you step into the hallway you hear a shrill scream from somewhere else in the school. "Let's move," Verrukt says, adjusting his pace. Another scream sounds, joined this time by a second voice and followed by what sounds like a snarl.
  
  Ahead of you are the fallen trash cans leading to the closed off hall. James and Destiny are arriving there a moment before the three of you. Another scream comes from further in the school, a series of growls and snarls rising in intensity.
  
  "What is that?" James asks. "Where are Christie and Frank?"
  
  "It doesn't matter," Dr. Verrukt tells him. "Come on, we need to get back to our world."
  
  "No," James says. "I'm not leaving them behind."
  
  "You're being foolish, James;" Verrukt tells him. "They know how to get back."
  
  James bites his lip and nods. "Yeah, well so do I, doc." He runs off down the hall.
  
  Dr. Verrukt shakes his head with disappointment on his face. He looks at the rest of you and says "Come on." He heads back down the abandoned hall to the classroom with the portal on the chalkboard. Destiny follows, not turning to look back for a second. Mike looks at you as if waiting to see what you want to do.
  
  > catch up with James.
  You run after James, Mike following close behind; following him down the long hall. He stops at the end of the hall, where the only option is to turn left down the history and social studies hall. You come to a halt beside him, Mike following your lead. Following James' lead you see about ten disfigured people walking. On the other side of them are Christie and Frank, trapped between this group and another larger group.
  
  Filtering in from the dusty windows, pale sunlight illuminates the scene enough that you can see something is off about these people. Their skin is loose and in some cases covered with gaping wounds. You swallow hard. They are like the half torso from the study hall. They're dead.
  
  "Zombies?" You ask. "How is that even possible?"
  
  "In the multiverse theory," Mike explains; "There are an infinite number of possible universes. Even ones with zombies."
  
  "Would you two shut up?" James mutters from over his shoulder. "Come on, we need to help them."
  
  With more stealth than you can believe a guy of his size is capable, James moves quietly down the hall toward the undead, his bat resting casually over his shoulder. He walks up behind the nearest one and smacks it in the back of the head; knocking it face down to the ground at Christie's feet.
  
  "Nice one," Frank says; sticking it in the skull with the blade of his knife.
  
  Mike cracks one over the back of the head with his stick and sends the zombie stumbling toward Christie, who steps nimble aside and trips it to the ground. She is on it at once, stabbing through its skull with one of Frank's hunting knives.
  
  The zombies start to turn around to face you as James takes another one down. "Are you going to help or not?" James growls at you, striking a zombie in the face so hard its jaw rips off of its face.
  
  "I don't have a weapon," you say.
  
  "Why the hell are you out here without a weapon?!" he asks incredulously.
  
  Frank stabs another one in the skull and it drops to the ground. Christie stabs the one beside it to the same effect.
  
  "Frank," Christie said; "Toss Charlie one of your knives." Frank nods and tosses a knife over the heads of the remaining zombies to you. You shrink in fear of being stabbed and it clatters to the ground. The blade is not out, of course.
  
  "Pick it up you idiot," James tells you, smacking the bat into another zombie, sending it sideways to the ground. Mike moves in to wack it over the head repeatedly with his stick until both the skull and the stick crack.
  
  "Damn," Mike says; "I liked that stick." He snaps it the rest of the way over his knee and tosses half of it aside.
  
  You pick the blade up and struggle to open it up. There are only a few zombies still standing between you and the others. Frank stabs the jawless zombie dead, James knocks another one down, and you begin to grow frustrated with the knife as one of the zombies steps past James and toward you. One of them stumbles toward Mike, falling atop his small frame and taking them both to the ground.
  
  "Shit!" Frank screams, he moves toward the tangle of Mike and the zombie and stabs the corpse through the skull two quick times. He rolls the zombie over to find Mike looking extremely relieved.
  
  "The big group is getting closer," Christie warns.
  
  The stray zombie is nearly upon you. "How the FUCK do you open this damn knife?!" You scream.
  
  "There's a button down on the handle!" Frank tells you.
  
  You push the button, a three inch steel blade pops out. Strong fingers grip your shoulder and pull you in. You scream and stab at it with your blade over and over again, finding the skull softer than you expected. Your zombie falls to the ground and you see James, Christie, and Frank standing beside you; the rest of the zombies scattered in black blood and gore around you.
  
  "Nicely done asshole," James says. "Now let's get out of here."
  
  The rest of the zombie hoard is drawing near.
  
  "Let's move," Christie says.
  
  James nods. "Go. I'll bring up the rear."
  
  The others nod and start moving down the hall, Christie taking your hand and pulling you along while Frank runs along beside you. As you make the turn on the hall toward the hall you hear Christie swear.
  
  "There's more up ahead," she says. "If we hurry we can make the hall and move to room 413."
  
  "Lets do it then," you say.
  
  "We need to move," James says. "No more jogging. Run!" He breaks into a run to the abandoned hall. You and Christie try to keep up, keeping a wary eye ahead and praying that you are able to beat the zombies to your destination.
  
  As you reach the toppled trash cans, the zombie hoard is closing in. You try to make the turn hard and end up slamming your shoulder painfully into the wall. James trips over one of the trash cans and you hear a terrible snap as he goes down.
  
  "FUCK!" he screams, clutching at his leg. You can see the bone of his shin pressing awkwardly against the skin.
  
  "Go!" he tells you. "There's no time. Save yourselves."
  
  Frank and Mike nod, jogging down the hall without looking back. Christie takes a moment to think about it before speaking. "We'll leave a circle on the board for you," she says. Then she follows the others, rushing abck to room 413.
  
  You take a moment to stare down at James, then to the closing hoard of zombies. They're just outside of spitting distance, growling and moaning in their approach.
  
  "What are you doing?" James asks, trying to prop himself up against the wall. "Go."
  
  > go to room 413. Hurry!
  You follow the others back down the hall to room 413 where the chalk drawing of a rune framed portal remains on the black board. Christie draws four circles over the arc with her chalk. She takes a quick glance over her shoulder at you and Frank and steps through. You watch as her circle disappears.
  
  "Come on," Frank says. "I don't like this any more than you do, but if we want to live we have to go." He steps through. His chalk circle disappears. Taking a deep breath you step through as well.
  
  Stepping out of the board on the other side you find everyone waiting for you. Mike is chewing his fingernails nervously. Dr. Verrukt is pacing. Destiny is sitting on the floor with her head in her hands. Christie and Frank are explaining what happened to the others.
  
  "Now what do we do?" you ask.
  
  "First we wait," Dr. Verrukt. "If James steps through the portal in the next ten minutes, then good. If not, then we do our best to go back to our normal lives."
  
  "I don't know how that's possible," Christie says in a quiet voice.
  
  "Let's just wait," Verrukt says evenly.
  
  You are waiting no more than a couple of minutes when Mike slides to the ground. "You guys, I don't feel so good," he says. His face is covered in a sheen of sweat and he holds his arms crossed over his chest while he shivers.
  
  "What's the matter with him?" Christie asks.
  
  "I got bit," Mike says with a weak smile. "I think I should go to the hospital."
  
  Dr. Verrukt shakes his head. "Absolutely not. No one can know about this. There is hydrogen peroxide in my office, we can have his wound cleaned up in no time."
  
  "Doctor Verrukt," Christie says. "He was bit by a zombie. He needs more than peroxide and a band-aid."
  
  The scientist is red all over, veins on his forehead bulge, and his eyes go wide. His tone is cold but in perfect control. "No one can know about this."
  
  "No one would believe it anyway," You say. "Who the hell is going to believe a zombie bit him? Come on. We can just say he got bit by something and doesn't remember. It doesn't matter what story we come up with, he needs to get this taken care of."
  
  "Fine," Dr. Verrukt says. "Do what you will." He turns on his heel and leaves the room. You never see him again. He suddenly disappears from Blossom Dale, his office and home cleared out completely.
  
  Frank leaves with Mike, heading to the hospital.
  
  James never returns and you leave the room disheartened. He is presumed by the world to be little more than another teenage runaway. A statistic. You know better, of course. He's back in that other world, walking around with dead eyes and eating the flesh of the living. You left him there to die. The guilt of your actions stays with you.
  
  Mike's wound gets worse. His infection spreads while the doctors scratch at their heads. They investigate the area where he claimed to have been bit, but for a long time nothing works. Mike is unique, an anomaly to the medical world. They call it a flesh eating virus. They don't understand how close to the truth they are.
  
  Eventually it takes him over entirely. They say he had some heavy fevers in his final days, speaking absurdly of zombies and the multiverse. He was moved to a medical research facility in Berlin, Germany in his final days. You've heard no word of him since. You hope they have stumbled upon a miracle cure but fear the worst.
  
  Last week it was been reported that an emergency quarantine was issued for the city of Berlin. Today it was reported that the quarantine has been expanded and extended.
  
  They won't say it, no one dares to say it; but they don't have to.
  
  You already know.