Chapter 1
Liz
The morning started like every other morning at West Ridge High. Too hot for October, too early for human life, and smelling faintly like wet asphalt and cafeteria grease.
Kenzie said that every school had a smell. Hospitals smelled like bleach. Churches smelled like old wood and perfume. West Ridge smelled like sweat, mildew, and bad decisions.
Honestly, she wasn’t wrong.
I climbed out of my mom’s car with my backpack half-zipped and nearly got hit by a sophomore on a skateboard cutting through the drop-off lane.
“Watch it, idiot!” my mom yelled through the open window.
The kid just threw up a hand without looking back.
“Love you too,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes at me over the steering wheel. “You have your inhaler?”
“Yes.”
“Lunch money?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Mom.”
She sighed dramatically. “Okay. Fine. Have a good day.”
I shut the car door before she could start asking about homework or if I was “feeling better emotionally.” Which was her new phrase lately. Feeling better emotionally.
As if emotions were a cold you could sleep off.
The second I stepped onto campus, heat wrapped around me like a wet blanket. Florida mornings were disgusting. The air felt thick enough to drink.
Students crowded the walkways between buildings. Some sat on the concrete ledges outside classrooms. Others wandered around with headphones in or Starbucks cups clutched like life support. A group of baseball guys were throwing a ball near the field even though first period started in six minutes.
Kenzie appeared out of nowhere and slammed into my side dramatically.
“There you are.”
“You literally texted me thirty seconds ago.”
“And you ignored me.”
“I was getting out of the car.”
“Excuses.”
She looped her arm through mine anyway.
Kenzie somehow looked good at seven in the morning, which felt unfair to humanity as a whole. Her dark curls were piled into a messy bun that would’ve looked homeless on anyone else. On her it looked intentional.
Meanwhile I looked like I’d lost a fight with my pillow.
“You know Seth almost crashed his truck trying to wave at me?” she said.
“No he didn’t.”
“He absolutely did.”
“You’re so full of it.”
Kenzie gasped. “Liz Moreno. Calling me a liar before first period? Violent behavior.”
I laughed quietly as we crossed the courtyard toward the English building.
The campus buzzed around us with the same loud, chaotic energy it always had. Locker doors slamming. Teachers yelling at kids to take earbuds out. Someone blasting music from a phone speaker. The distant squeal of sneakers from the gym.
Normal.
Completely normal.
I think about that a lot now. The normal parts. The things nobody notices until they’re gone.
Back then, the biggest thing on my mind was the chemistry quiz I definitely forgot to study for.
Kenzie was rambling about some drama involving two girls from varsity cheer when she suddenly stopped walking.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
She tilted her head slightly.
“Don’t look now.”
“I’m literally going to look now.”
“Vann’s staring at you.”
My stomach immediately tightened.
“I hate you.”
“I’m serious.”
I kept my eyes forward anyway, because Kenzie lived for embarrassing me publicly.
“Why are you acting weird?” she whispered. “You literally talk to him.”
“Not really.”
“You absolutely do.”
Talking was a generous word for it.
Vann sat behind me in Algebra. We’d spoken maybe five actual sentences to each other this year, but somehow every interaction felt longer than it was. Like there was something unfinished sitting underneath it.
He was leaning against the railing outside the math building with his backpack slung over one shoulder, talking to some guy from the soccer team.
And yeah.
Okay.
Maybe he was looking at me.
Kenzie made a smug noise.
“Shut up,” I muttered.
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“You were thinking it loudly.”
She grinned.
Vann looked away before I could accidentally make eye contact, which somehow annoyed me more than if he’d kept staring.
“Coward,” Kenzie whispered dramatically.
“You are unbelievable.”
“And yet deeply lovable.”
The warning bell rang overhead.
Around us, the entire campus shifted into motion. Conversations cut short. Kids started moving faster through the outdoor halls between buildings.
West Ridge wasn’t one connected school. It was separated into different buildings spread across campus with covered walkways between them. Which sounded nice in theory until it rained sideways or the heat index hit a hundred and three.
We hurried into the English building right before the late bell rang.
The morning passed slowly.
Painfully slowly.
By third period, half the class was asleep. By fourth, someone had started a paper ball fight while the teacher pretended not to notice.
Everything felt ordinary in the way you never appreciate while it’s happening.
At lunch, Kenzie and I sat outside near the courtyard because the cafeteria smelled like expired milk and depression.
Seth dropped into the seat across from us carrying three bags of chips and a sports drink the size of a small child.
“How are you alive?” I asked.
He grinned. “Athleticism.”
“You got winded opening a pickle jar yesterday.”
“That lid was vacuum sealed.”
Kenzie snorted into her fries.
Seth was the kind of person who filled space without trying. Loud laugh. Loud opinions. Loud existence in general. Teachers loved him because he played football. Students loved him because he was funny.
I think Seth would’ve made friends in a prison riot.
He pointed a chip at me. “You studying for bio?”
“No.”
“Bold strategy.”
“I’m choosing peace.”
“You’re choosing academic failure.”
Before I could answer, someone sprinted across the courtyard nearby.
Not jogging.
Full sprint.
A guy I recognized vaguely from junior year.
He nearly slammed into a trash can.
“What the hell?” Seth muttered.
More students started looking up.
The guy disappeared around the corner toward the administration building.
Kenzie frowned slightly. “That was weird.”
“Probably late,” Seth said.
But he sounded unsure.
A minute later, sirens echoed faintly somewhere off-campus.
Nobody reacted much to that. Sirens weren’t unusual.
Then came screaming.
Not playful screaming.
Not cheering.
Actual screaming.
The courtyard went quiet in pieces.
Like sound shutting off one section at a time.
Students turned toward the far side of campus near the front office.
Someone shouted.
Then another scream cut through the air.
This one sharper.
Closer.
Seth stood up immediately.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
A crowd of students suddenly came rushing around the walkway near the admin building.
Running.
Actually running.
Panic moved through the courtyard instantly.
“What happened?” somebody yelled.
A girl nearly tripped over the sidewalk.
“There’s something wrong with that kid,” she shouted breathlessly.
“What kid?”
“I don’t know!”
More students started running behind her.
Teachers emerged from classrooms looking confused.
Then I saw blood.
A boy stumbled between the buildings clutching his arm. Blood streaked down his sleeve.
At first my brain didn’t process it.
It didn’t feel real.
It felt like watching something through a screen.
People started shouting over each other.
“Get inside!”
“What happened?”
“Someone attacked him!”
“Is this a fight?”
Then another student came barreling around the corner.
Only this one looked wrong.
His movements were jerky. Violent. Like every limb was moving half a second too fast.
Blood covered the front of his shirt.
He slammed into a girl hard enough to send both of them crashing to the concrete.
The scream she let out made my stomach drop.
Not anger.
Not surprise.
Pain.
Real pain.
The boy on top of her started biting at her shoulder while she shrieked and tried to push him off.
For one horrible second, nobody moved.
The entire courtyard froze.
Like our brains couldn’t understand what we were seeing.
Then chaos exploded.
Students started running in every direction.
Someone crashed into our table hard enough to flip it sideways.
Kenzie grabbed my arm painfully tight.
“Liz.”
Seth vaulted over the bench. “Move. Now.”
The infected boy—I didn’t have another word for him, not yet—lifted his head from the screaming girl.
Blood covered his mouth.
His eyes looked wrong.
Cloudy.
Wild.
Empty.
A teacher rushed forward trying to pull him off her and got tackled to the pavement instantly.
I heard teeth snap.
God.
I still hear that sound sometimes.
The courtyard dissolved into pure panic.
People shoved each other trying to get inside nearby classrooms.
A girl fell near the walkway and got trampled.
Teachers were yelling but nobody was listening anymore.
Sirens screamed louder outside the campus now.
Kenzie was crying without realizing it.
“Oh my God, oh my God—”
“Run!” Seth shouted.
We sprinted across the courtyard toward the science building as more screams erupted behind us.
Students flooded the outdoor halls, slamming into doors, pounding on classroom windows.
Some teachers locked doors immediately.
Others stood frozen in shock.
I risked one glance backward.
Big mistake.
More infected were coming now.
Not walking.
Running.
Fast.
Too fast.
One launched itself over a courtyard bench and slammed into a screaming student.
Blood sprayed across the concrete.
I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t think.
The only thing in my head was move.
Move move move.
Tyler appeared near the science building entrance looking pale as death itself.
“This way!” he shouted.
We shoved through the doors seconds before another wave of students came rushing in behind us.
Someone slammed the doors shut.
Bodies crashed against the glass from outside.
Students screamed.
People cried.
Phones buzzed endlessly.
And somewhere in the middle of all of it, over the intercom, the final bell rang.
