A Sudden Confession and Don't Look Outside

Dashing out of the school was like playing Whack-A-Mole with rotting moles. These zombies had the survival instincts of a potato. A moldy potato.

And for some reason, it seemed like something had changed in them.

"S-Seriously?" Jake stuttered, smacking a zombie in the face with his blunt sword. "Th-They're j-just… s-slowly walking over to us now. D-Did they g-get tired?"

"Don't jinx it!" I yelled, jamming my broom handle into a zombie's open mouth. It bit down, realized it couldn't chew splinters, and spat it out indignantly. "See? Even they hate my cooking!"

Elliot swung his bat like he was auditioning for Zombie Baseball Pro 2025. "Hey, Mira! Think they'll let us keep score?"

"Only if you count how many times Ben says 'sorry'!" I shouted back.

Ben, paused mid-swing. "S-Sorry? Why would I—oh." He accidentally whacked a zombie in the ribs with his crowbar.

"SORRY"