Buzzkill (A Lesbian Story)

3: I Hate Running

  The only lighting we had, besides Ashley's phone, were the red emergency exit signs placed around. There was no sound except our slow footsteps and breathing. Which was weird considering that there was a pep rally supposed to be going on. Even with the power out like this, there would be the dull roar of restless students and Craft's voice over a bullhorn to settle them down. Yet there was nothing.

  "This is too creepy." I said as we were coming to the corner by the gym. "I mean, it's dead silent."

  "Do you think that maybe everyone got evacuated outside?" Ashley asked. We turned the corner and stopped dead in our tracks. Infront of us, about ten yards away and infront of the gym doors, was a figure. From the track pants and bullhorn attached to their hip, I could tell it was Craft. She swayed a bit, hunched over and head tilted to the side.

  Something wasn't right.

  "Coach Craft!" Ashley shouted, stepping forward. Craft shuddered, but stayed quiet and in her spot. "Coach!  Whats going on? Where is everyone?"

  When Craft turned around to face us, a chill ran down my spine. I grabbed Ashley's arm to stop her from going further. "Ash, stop."

  She turned to me. "What?"

  A deep and low growl echoed through the hall as Craft took a wobbly step towards us. More growls followed as more swaying figures multipled behind her. Their movents were jerky and sudden, like they didn't exactly know how to use their limbs.

  "What the fuck?" Ashley breathed, stepping back.

  Suddenly, Craft broke into a full on sprint. I turned on my heel and pulled Ashley in the opposite direction of Craft and her buddies. We turned down another hallway, the growls of whatever the fuck those things were getting louder.

  "The fuck is happening?" Ashley was breathing heavily. Shadows appeared infront of us so she grabbed my arm and pulled me down the science hallway, back towards the gym.

  Not a good idea.

  I spotted the janitor's closet and pulled her that way. Pushing her in before me, I followed and closed the door slightly, leaving a crack since these doors always close loudly.

  "What the fuck, Max?" She whispered.

  I shushed her and watched through the crack. No sign of the things. The growls were prominent, however. The sound of hunger echoed off the walls, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

  "We need to get the fuck out of here." I breathed and looked to Ashley. "Where did you park?"

  "Front of the school." She shook her head. "Plus my keys are in my bag which is in the cheer locker room by the gym. Judging by how many of those..." She waved her hand. "Things were there, I suggest that we do not head that way."

  I nodded. "I park out by the softball fields. My keys are in the softball locker room. Which is..." I thought about where we are right now and turned a bit to point to the left. Away from the gym. "That way. Think we can make it?"

  She shrugged. Through the light of the fog glass window, I could see the terror on her face. "We can at least try."

  I had to smile a bit and clasp her shoulder. "That's the spirit."

  My gaze went back to the hallway. It was still. The growls died down a bit. I was about to tell Ashley that we were good to go, but a figure suddenly appeared. It was Craft. She sniffed the air and looked around. I backed up slightly, but my back hit a mop. The mop would have fallen and created a domino effect with other mops, but both Ashley and I scrambled to stop it. Ashkey reached around me to catch a mop as I grabbed one with my hand and then caught another with my foot just before it hit the ground.

  This left us in this weird, awkward almost-embrace. Our faces were really close, but I turned my head to see Craft looking towards the closet in interest. She started staggering this way, but a crashing noise from down the hall she came made her turn and go that way. More swaying figures followed and the growling got less intense.

  I let go of a breath that I was holding, Ashley doing the same. Her breath flowed over my neck as she uprighted the mops. I grabbed one and held it infront of me as a weapon. I looked behind me at Ashley. "You ready?"

  She nodded. I slowly pulled the door open and stuck my head out. No sign of them. Ashley was holding onto the back of my leather jacket as we walked forward. I checked both ways before sneaking down the hall to the corner. We passed through open doors and stopped at the corner. My eyes swept the hallway until they landed on the softball locker room.

  The door was closed and looked almost untouched. That locker room has always been my safe haven. Softball helped me build and accept myself. My team mates helped. Oh god. My team. What happened to them?

  There was a blood curdling scream behind us. Where Craft and ran off to. Growls echoed. Ashley was shaking. Her front was pressed against my back as she clutched my jacket tighter. I gently put a hand on hers and led her to the locker room.

  Quickly opening the door, we slipped inside. The locker room automatic lights were on, meaning that someone was already in here. I gripped the mop and studied the room. The locker room was dirty, but when was it not? I stepped forward between the row of lockers. I put down the mop and picked up my bat. It felt snug and familiar in my hands. There was a rustle behind the lockers. I crept that way, my bat held at the ready.

  Suddenly, a figure jumped out from behind the corner and I swung. Hands grabbed the end of my bat and a voice exclaimed my name.

  It was Steve.

***
Author's Note: Intense right? Ashley isn't exactly as tough as she seems, Max is actually helping her, and Steve is alive! Hallelujah! Stay tuned for next time, where it will definitely get more interesting;)
Xoxo -AwkwardLes