Night of the Dead

"He'll make it," she replies forcefully, as if she herself didn't beleive it," He WILL make it,".

You nod, afraid to say anything more on this subject, when the door suddenly flew open. You can see the zombies, or "infected ones", and you realize it's your classmates, but a lot paler. You imagine, as they limped closer to Mr. Hunter, that their smell would be horrid. But Miranda yanked at your arm and ran before you could find out if that was true or not. We shoved the door open and ran out into the cool night, the moon glowing ominiously in the sky. The air smelled strange, sickly sweet, and with one whiff of it you started to gag and cough.

After a few minutes, Miranda quickly relocated her dad's truck in the eerily empty parking lot. She climbed in, you following. You both sat, waiting for Miranda's dad to emerge from the door you just shoved open, and into the truck to drive you all to safety. As you waited, you noticed that Miranda's hand was still clasping yours, her grip iron-like. Her hand was smooth and soft against your large, rough one.

And then you felt a tremor run through her arm, and you saw that she was quietly shivering in fear.
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