It was dark. It was always dark these days, with the undead that wandered the halls in their disgruntled state. With my lonesome that kept me company, I had scrambled to the air vents to escape the undead when shit had hit the fan. I didn’t know what had happened, I didn’t know anything. What caused this? I knew not. What were those things that used to be human? Students that rushed through the halls in fear of being tardy. I knew not. I called them the undead because that was the closest to what they appeared to be. Why had I not left this place? I knew not. And where were my companions? Julia? Jaclyn? Kayla? All the others? That I also did not know and it pained me to even think that they had become one of those mind numbed creatures that drooled their own blood and screeched without reason.

I wielded my weapon, a fire axe which I had taken from the office. It did me good service on the occasions that I took to the hallways, littered with undead, to snatch whatever food or supplies I could grab. I sat now, with my back against the cool wall of the air vent, checking my phone as I had done many times in the past few days. It was close to dying, a red 11% on the top. I had attempted texting Phil, texting my friends, texting my family, anyone. But no one answered and my service had stopped working after the first day. Sighing, I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall of the air vent. I whimpered something I knew I did not mean; “I wish I were dead.”

There was something lonesome in the way they moved. Ambling aimlessly with calcium clouded eyes, they no longer looked like the students that should be here, flourishing and learning. They were in a throng of others, yet they seemed not aware of them. They were alone, their instincts not allowing them to look beyond the death and destruction. The instincts never would, for they were simply dead. Distantly I was surprised at myself for thinking of such things. It was either me or them, and I should not be getting so sentimental. Yet I couldn't help the swell of emotions that ran through me when I saw a rotten face I knew, whether I hated or liked them. Abigail, Diana, Asia, Maha... All made my eyes sting with tears that I stubbornly blinked back.

Despite this, however, I knew better than to wallow in the grief. If I had any hope to survive, I had to steel my emotions and think of myself. I was weak with stamina and I had to rely on my strength and small size to carry me through. If I let myself falter, I would surely be dead. The hammer I had snagged from the lone construction class helped as well. But with these familiar and unfamiliar faces, I could always feel the unspoken question on my lips. My friends were at school as well when this whole thing had happened. I remembered fondly our lunch together, the last time it seemed that any would be alive. What if the next familiar face I saw would be them? Or worse, what if they were alive but bitten? Could I bring myself to end their suffering? I avoided the question, deciding to deal with it if it ever came and hope it didn't. The thought they had grouped together and were simply looking for me comforted me, if only for a few naive minutes.

I slipped into the cafeteria and watched a few of the zombies move about. I had ended a few of the zombies earlier, and the rotting bodies still lay in their final resting place. I carefully skirted around the lives ones, snagged a bag of Welsh snacks from the broken vending machine and headed back towards the side hall with the Drama and Dance classrooms. My gaze drifted to a vent, frowning in thought. Were they always open? I must not have noticed. Curious, I climbed into the air duct and began to crawl through it. Perhaps someone was living here? It would be smart, but it could also be a bust. Who would think of something like living in an air vent? It seemed a little crazy, anyways.

Deep in thought, my hardened glare was fixed on the steel wall of the air vent, as if it would bare an answer to my unasked questions. My thoughts and the sounds of the undead were all that surrounded me daily, since the outbreak. No sign of life anywhere that I had checked. I only hoped that, regardless who it may be, that I would find a living companion.

My thoughts were abruptly interupted by a clatter that arose from down the air vent. My heart began to race with a dangerous mixture of fear and excitement. From what I had seen, these creatures did not have the capibility to climb or even run. They were so dense, in fact, that they did not recognizie my presence until I had past by them. One could run through a whole horde of them if they made sure not to brush against them. So, the thought that one of them had managed to climb up into the air vents did not seem probable to me. However, many unbelieveable incidents had occured over the last two days. I had to be cautious.

Tightening the grip on my axe, I slowly crawled towards the source of the noise, in hopes that it would be another human. Staff or student, it didn't matter. I just needed to know I wasn't alone in this.

I stopped crawling once I had gotten to where I assumed the clatter had come from. In a meek and rather quiet voice, I called out, "Is someone there?"

I internally winced at each clatter my hammer made against the metal, and after a while I ended simply raising the hand holding it and awkwardly crawling along with three hands and knees instead of four. It was a lot more stealthy, anyways, and the need to be stealthy could very well be needed. What if I encountered one of them, who had somehow found their way in here? Or perhaps another human, so insane from isolation they'd kill me? ...Well, perhaps that wasn't likely. I must have consumed too much zombie apocalypse media.

Still, the need to be cautious felt better than just simply clattering around without a care. I had survived this long, it would be a shame for a simple mistake like that to be my end.

My somewhat scattered thoughts froze, hearing a voice reverberate along the metal walls of the vent. I could feel my blood go cold, recognizing that voice immediately to be one of my friends. My shoulders shook with anticipation as my thoughts spiraled. Could she actually be here, alive and well? Was she with the others? Or was she simply a figment of my imagination? Had I gone mad?

Regardless, I called out, perhaps without thinking things through. "Leah?" If it was truly her, I didn't want my caution to get in the way of finding someone alive in this place. If not, then I would simply accept the fact I've gone mad and attempt to shake myself into sanity. Surely it was a win-win situation, no matter the choice.

My breath caught in my throat, my limbs feeling as if they were numb. Hearing my name in a voice so familiar...They obviously knew me well enough to recognize me by my voice. I racked my brain, trying to register who the voice belonged to. I had gone so long without hearing another human's voice, it seemed almost foreign to me. Suddenly, it were as if a light bulb went off in my head and my confusion and fear turned into joy and disbelief.

"Julia," my mouth said the name before my mind could catch up. Surely I couldn't be imagining all of this. I slowly but steadily began to crawl towards her voice, not carrying about the noise my axe was making against the metal air vent. She couldn't have been too far down in the air vent, her voice was relatively loud.

"It's me," I spoke again, trying to assure her she wasn't in danger. I knew, if she had been through anything like I had, her mental state might not have been so stable.

I pursed my lips, not moving from my spot as I listened to the advancing thunks. She had uttered my name as well, assured me it was her, did that throw more evidence into the fact that she was truly who she said she was? It should. But I found my limbs stuck, unable to move as I struggled to process the fact that someone else was alive. Alive, not one of those things.

"I sure hope so." I said with a weak laugh, joy overriding my caution. Even if it wasn't her, it would just mean no one was there. I had no one to be embarrassed of if they witnessed myself crawling to an empty space. So I eventually began to move, approaching the approaching noises and trying not to rush. I let my the hand holding the hammer assist me, no longer concerned about making too much noise. Why should I, when it was possible my friend was alive?

When I grew close enough to see her I paused, squinting in the dim lighting and taking in the sight of her. Yes, she was most certainly alive and not my imagination. There actually existed another person here.

From the darkness of the air vent, emerged the sight of what I hoped so intensely to see. Not only the likeliness of another human but of my best friend. At first sight, my words refused to leave my mouth due to the pure shock. All this time I had been so certain that I was the only one left. I had visions of myself rotting away in the air vent until I could find no more food or water in the lockers or class rooms. I was certain that if my loneliness did not kill me, starvation surely would. While coming across Julia did not cure my worry for food, it certainly did bring me a wave of comfort.

Finally, after moments had passed, my brain and body began to function as normal again and I was able to speak. "Oh my god," I said slowly, peering at her through the darkness that made her barely visible. "I can't believe you're still alive...I looked everywhere I could think of." I said. "Where were you? Do you know if anyone else is alive? How have you been surviving all this time?" I flooded her with questions, not realizing she may not be able to answer them.

The word alive never seemed to taste so sweet before. I had been torn before, flitting between the desperate hope that someone had managed to survive here and chiding myself for thinking it was possible. The fact that it had been my constant companion seemed to further stick the words to my throat, and for a brief moment I wondered just what else could be possible. Jaclyn and Kayla alive? My family? Well, if Leah was here, perhaps the former would not be so unlikely.

I swallowed thickly in the silence, and for a moment I feared we'd be stuck mute forever from the shock of seeing each other. What was one to say when it seemed the past had come back to life? I shook my head, opening my mouth to attempt to unstick whatever words had stopped up in my throat, but was saved the pressure of speaking first by her voice. A wide smile cracked my face. "I could say the same for you." I said, ignoring how cracked my voice sounded to my own ears. Hers sounded just as, probably from lack of use.

The smile faded a bit at her questions and I shifted, trying to stretch in the small space of the air duct. "The elevator shaft." I said, moving to run a hand through my matted hair. "I managed to pry it open and I've been hiding out there." I paused, allowing time to carefully phrase my words. "I assume the same way you have. Avoiding the dead, stealing what food I can find, but..." Another pause, biting the inside of my cheek. "I haven't seen anyone else." It felt like a bitter phrase, quelling the joy I had felt but I ignored it. I had found one live person, surely there would be more. It was plausible.

I nodded as she spoke, my new found joy taking a swift kick in the gut when she said she hadn't found anyone else. But shouldn't I have figured it as such? Shouldn't I have expected my joy to come individually wrapped, not thrown onto me in bulk? It was only a minute ago that the thought of another human in the school seemed perposterous. Now, it came to life.

"I haven't found anyone either," I said, feeling the need to add it. "But I did find an area in the vent that runs above the street and you can look down and have an overview of it. You've probably seen what the halls are like but to see it from above..." my voice trailed off, the thought of the scene I described was enough to catch my breath. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Hordes of students frothing at the mouth, snapping their deformed jaws at any sound the heard, skreeching and howling for no foreseeable reason. It seemed as if it truly were hell on earth.

"I was so certain everyone was dead. Or whatever those things are. I've seen tons of people we know just wandering aimlessly as their flesh rotted away. Sometimes I can't believe it," I finished, my previous smile now completely transformed into a frown. "I really don't know how long we can live like this."

I sighed, my sole hope faltering a little at her confirmation. But then again, didn't I already know this? It was doubtful more than perhaps two people could sit comfortably here in such a cramped place, and though the darkness hid most of Leah's features in a shadow, I could see the expression in her eyes. It mirrored my own when I would look at myself with my phone's camera. We were exhausted, upset.

I began to crawl towards her, not wanting to just stare at a hazy shadow, not wanting my memory of our reunion to be of just staring at a darkened figure. "I've seen the same." I admitted grimly, slowing when I could see her a little more. The sight of her was comforting at least, though my grimace couldn't be wiped off my face from this alone. "Well, I doubt we can live for very long." I admitted, setting my hammer down. "We could survive here for awhile if we were careful to avoid as much contact with those things as possible, but we'll eventually run out of food. We'd either have to leave here or accept our demise."

To know your death approaches quickly is one thing. To accept it is another. As I sat there in that air vent, crouched over due to lack of space, and baggy eyed due to lack of sleep, I had to accept my death was going to come soon. I would not reach a ripe old age where at which I could sit on the front porch with my husband and watch our grandchildren play in the yard. I would not marry in a white gown nor have children that had my husband's blonde hair. I wouldn't even graduate high school. I would die here in this vent with Julia. That was a heavy pill to swallow.

I struggled to heave a sigh as I thought about this while Julia spoke. I didn't want to die here. But something told me what was outside the school was not any better than what was within. I wondered if we'd live long enough to find out. I at least wanted to try and survive as long as we could in the school, regardless if it was just to postpone the inevitable.

"Well what do you have with you?" I asked her after she finished speaking. "I mean, I know you have the hammer but what else do you have?" I wanted to see what collected assets we had before making any sort of decision or plan.

"My coat and my bag, mostly." I said, glancing at the polished metal beneath us. When this whole thing started, my first thought had been to flee the school. I had grabbed my coat and bag from my locker, but found my exit trapped. I had never put it back, and it now lay in the cold shaft I now called 'home'; my coat a blanket, my bag a pillow. "What food I could pilfer from the vending machines... Not a lot."

Often when I was alone at night, listening to the scattered moans of my fellow students, I would wonder why I was still alive. Sure, I never had grandiose ambitions. My image of the perfect mate is vague, thoughts on what my perfect life would be rare. However, I wasn't without a will to live. But here, I had to accept facts. I was strong, but not strong enough to fare in a zombie apocalypse on my own. Besides, what world could be waiting for me? Did this ever have an end? I could die on my own terms, with my own demons settled as much as I could. I could write a note, get out all of the bitter feelings I held inside towards Jaclyn, towards my family, and find my own consolation in that whoever read it would know that I existed. My body would not become another Jane Doe or be mutilated by one of those beings. I could rot peacefully in this shaft as someone I had always been; one face in a crowd of millions. One victim among the bodies of dozens.

But I would hesitate, the hammer at my temple and realize that even then I did not have the guts to take my own life. It was not that I was torn between living; either way I would die, right? But I was afraid of what awaited me in death. The gaping unknown before me that was as close as a twitch of my hand managed to close my throat with silent sobs. Weak, yes, but I knew that already. And inwardly I thought of why anyone would think the self-deprecation of yourself would be something to desire. Thinking this did not make me feel better, it did not normalize it for me. It was a simple acceptance of facts; my death would be caused when I could no longer stop it. No amount of saying it to the next living person would make that better. Even in the face if what seemed like at times my only friend, I knew that she would be unable to offer help, even if she were experiencing the same cowardice I was, just as I would be unable to help her. It was something unable to be healed.

"Did you do better than me?" I asked, keeping such grim thoughts to the back of my mind. Letting yourself get wreaked with hopelessness and despair. If not for the sake of living but for the sake of sanity. "I haven't seen much, but I've avoided classrooms. They seem like death traps to me."