The clang of our weapons echoes through the campus. But it's drowned out by the near-constant gunfire and explosions going on outside the town walls. This particular battle has been going on for over a week. It started the day Hardin and I first started sparring, and now we're all getting used to hearing the chaos and seeing the plumes of fire and smoke billowing into the sky.
"We should join the war," I say one morning as the sun comes up.
He strikes my blade with his and cocks his head to the side. "We?"
I gesture to the dorms. "All of us. We're good fighters, and instead of going out there and helping, we're stuck in here, on lockdown like schoolchildren." I balance the tip of my sword on the concrete and look up at the window of my room.
"I've thought the same thing," he says.
I raise my eyebrows. "You have?"
"Of course I have."
I lift my katana and slide it into its sheath. "So why are you still here?"
He presses his lip ring between his teeth. "If it gets so bad out there that they need everyone, I'll be first in line. But until then, we need to stay here."
I cross my arms over my chest. "That's crap. It's already bad out there. People are dying while we're sitting around reading books from a time that is long gone. How are we helping the world? How are we making the world a better place?"
He thinks about my words for a moment before replying. "I think it's places like this that remind us of our humanity. And those books, while they tell of a time long ago, they tell us where we've been, what we've accomplished, and how far we've come."
"He's right, Tessa," a voice says. I turn to see Steph standing in the doorway. "Without places like this, where people can learn and grow and be safe, the world would just be one giant war zone. Knowledge and history and art, we need to preserve it. Otherwise we'll be just as bad as the mindless creatures we fight."
I open my mouth to argue, but an explosion rocks the ground beneath us, knocking us off our feet. Rubble lands all around me, and all I can hear is a ringing that vibrates through my skull. I sit up, clutching my ears and squinting through the dust cloud enveloping me.
"What the hell was that?" I shout, but I can't even hear my own voice.
Figures move through the smoke, and it doesn't take long for me to realize what they are. I climb to my feet, trying to steady myself while picking up my sword. Someone grabs onto my arm and I turn to see Steph standing next to me, yelling something that I can't hear. I can see the panic in her eyes as she points behind me. I look over my shoulder to see Hardin lying on the ground, blood streaming down his face from a deep cut above his eyebrow.
Everything feels like it's happening in slow motion as I look back towards the figures in the smoke. I can see them clearly now, in all their rotting, horrific glory.
"Hardin!" I run over to him, grabbing hold of his shirt. His eyes open, but he looks straight through me, furrowing his brow in confusion. I tug on his shirt, using all my strength to pull him to his feet. I pick up his sword and shove it in his hand, yelling at him to fight. He presses his fingers against the cut on his head and flinches, but looks me in the eyes and nods.
I turn around just as Molly and Nate burst onto the street, wielding their swords high. Dozens of my classmates follow, and soon hundreds of us are standing in the street, forming our own army of students who will not be beaten by the hateful monsters before us.
I look around me and the smoke stings my eyes. "Ready?" I shout. "Go!"
We launch into battle, taking down as many zombies as we can. A zombie dressed in a suit and tie is my first victim. I swing my katana in a downward motion, slicing his head in half before shouldering him back into a group of five others, knocking them all down. Steph, Molly and I stomp on their heads, letting out battlecries with each crack of the skull.
The smoke clears and I see just how many there are. Soldiers are firing at them from outside the gates, cutting the numbers rapidly. Soon, reinforcements arrive, tanks and trucks ramming into the horde, flattening them into the asphalt. By the time the last zombie is killed I'm covered in blood, and I'm too high on adrenaline to know if any of it is mine.
Steph puts an arm around my shoulders and wipes the back of her hand over her sweaty, bloody forehead. "We did good."
I suck in a deep breath and look around, assessing the damage. "How many casualties?" Bodies surround us, and it'll be hours, maybe days until we know who survived and who didn't.
I search the crowd of survivors for my friends. I spot Hardin nearby, helping an injured girl walk to an ambulance that just pulled in. Nate is wandering around, sticking his blade into the skulls of any zombies still moving. I catch a glimpse of pink hair in the distance, and it's Molly talking to people I recognize from my Lit class.
I let out a relieved sigh, grateful that our little group is still intact. I don't think we could handle losing another one of us.
One Month Later...
I elbow Hardin in the side and his head snaps up. "Huh?"
I lean over and whisper, "You fell asleep again."
He runs both hands through his hair and blinks a couple of times, trying to wake himself up. Luckily for him, the professor is too busy talking to notice Hardin's constant drowsiness. But with him sitting right next to me, it's hard to miss it.
When class is over, I close my book and turn to him. "Still can't sleep?"
"I'm fine," he mumbles before standing up and leaving the room.
Landon shoots me a worried glance. "What's with him? He's even more unpleasant than usual."
I shrug. "He doesn't sleep well. And he lost two of his friends last month, so maybe give him a break." I feel oddly defensive of Hardin, it catches me by surprise.
Landon raises an eyebrow at me, and I laugh it off. "Besides, he's not that bad once you get to know him."
When I reach my room, Hardin is sitting on the floor in the hall, resting his against my door.
"Hey," I say, pulling out my key. "I think Steph has classes all day."
"I'm not here to see Steph," he says. His words sound slurred.
"Have you been drinking? It's mid-afternoon."
He gives me a confused look and shakes his head. "No."
I try to look at his face, but he keeps letting his hair fall in front of him and looking away. "So why are you here?"
He shrugs. "I thought we could hang out."
"What did you have in mind?"
An hour later, Hardin is parking his car at the end of a gravel road surrounded by green grass and yellow wildflowers. We get out and walk for a while, chatting casually about school and his home back in London. Every now and then we hear a rustling and stop, our hands clutching the handles of our swords, but the threat is never anything more than a rabbit or a bird.
"We're here," he says as we emerge from the trees. A crystal blue stream cuts through the lush landscape, and I don't remember the last time I've heard such peaceful silence.
"How did you find this place?" I ask, taking a seat on the grass.
He sits close next to me and watches the water flow by. "I learned about it last year in my Zombies in American History class. The Battle of Ellensburg was fought right here in 1922, thousands of men and women died trying to protect the U.S from zombies."
I look around us, imagining the bloodshed. "I remember learning about that in school. The virus had only been in the country a few years." I shake my head. "It must have been so horrible for them. They had no idea what they were fighting against, how merciless and unstoppable zombies can be."
He presses his lips into a hard line and drops his gaze to the ground. "You remember last time we played truth or dare?"
I tilt my head to the side, taken aback by the random question. "Yeah."
"And Molly dared you to kiss me?"
I lower an eyebrow. "Yeah."
He gives me a sideways glance. "Would you have done it? I mean, if we weren't so rudely interrupted."
I watch him for a moment, wondering if he's being serious. "Well, yeah. I'm not one to back down from anything. Why are you asking me this?"
"It's just something I've been thinking about lately." He says it slowly, like he's being careful with every word he chooses. "I've been thinking about a lot of things."
"Hardin," I say. "What's going on with you?"
He shakes his head. "I've really liked spending time with you the last couple of months." A smile spreads across his face. "Even though we fought a lot at first."
I start to worry. I turn to face him, trying to make eye contact. "Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?"
He stands up and pushes his hands through his hair. "This was a bad idea. We should go."
I stand up and grab his wrist, turning him around to face me. He finally looks into my eyes and smiles, but all I see is sadness. And it kills me.
He leans in, but pauses mere inches away from my face. I close the gap between us, crushing my lips to his. I can feel the heat emanating from his body as I run my hands down his back, but when I touch his right hip he flinches and pulls away.
I furrow my brow, already missing the feel of his kiss. "What's wrong?"
He steps forward again. "Nothing, kiss me again."
I press a hand against his chest. "Are you hurt?" I start to pull his T-shirt up, but he grabs my hand, shaking his head and giving me an intense stare.
I pull my hand away and rest it on the handle of my sword. "Don't make me fight you, Hardin. You know I'd win."
His shoulders drop. "Fine." He squeezes his eyes shut, taking in a deep breath as he pulls his shirt over his head.
At first all I see is the black ink covering his torso. A tattoo of a dead tree on his stomach takes my breath away, and I follow the bare branches until I see something that makes my heart sink. "Oh, Hardin. No."