ofoam cups. All my life I had been taught that these empty streets and abandoned homes were among the most dangerous places someone could find t

I was covered in a thin film of sweat. Everything I thought I knew about my body was wrong. I'd always assumed I could run if

was massive. Three stories tall and as wide as a city block. The windows had long ago been shattered b

the plan

I go in." He crossed the stre

're we supposed to herd a bunch of pe

run to the highway. We meet in the clearing. Come on, the library's where

said and disappeared int

hind as we crossed through the back door and

hin

ow how to get back to camp by myself. Just tell m

d made a break for the library across the street. Fifty foot tall pine trees lined the back of the building, dead br

like a Ficus, You'll get a clean line of

e put a finger to his

ietly as possible, but if shit starts going down

of them

we might have gotten lucky, the

eathed a frustrated sigh and moved into the library. The second floor ceiling had long ago given

I could barely hold the gun. Just as I was starting to get nauseous over the thought of shooting someone, I r

longer to get there than planned, most of it had been my fault. I was slow and full of quesitons,

ace between the glass on the south side window. I waited. He turne

re were no sounds but that of the fall breeze whistling through broken windows and empty homes. I tired to look inside the sc

uck, " I said, swiping the scope to the right, left, and back again, searchi

an through the town and disappeared into the first homes and shops they could find. Tom came out after them

ed in body armor, each carrying long guns. Tom still hadn't seen them. I fire

and again until the rifle clicked empty. I scrambled to find the extra bullets Tom had put in my pockets but they slipped through my sweaty fingers like slimy river stones. I pulled the bolt back like he had shown me and one by one slid the bullets inside. I put my eyes to the scope ag

er side of the roof. I lifted the rifle and aimed toward the closed door. As I sat there waiting, I felt as if my body was being slowly squeezed in a vice

ough, still shooting. I put my head down and fired blindly. Without holding it properly, the gun kicked backed, nearly flying out of my hands. Somehow I managed to

ould see the hole carved along his ribs. Bone and organs spilled through the gap. I almost got sick, but before I allowed myself to react, I ran back to the le

. I slung the rifle around my back and moved to the corpse. I pulled the gun from his hands and examined it. I had never

re, waiting. I tried to keep quiet as I descended the old staircase but the wood wailed with every

very sound stung like ice in my stomach. Finally I realized th

urs of daylight but somehow, between getting on the roof and now, I had lost most of the afternoon. I moved slow and cautious, careful not to

dently kicked them. I was afraid to move, not knowing if the men

walk. I rounded the corner and found the street I wasn't able to see from the library roof. T

house down the street. I pulled the scope from the gun and l