Free Web NovelChapter 22: Break through
The next seven were upon them now. Five at the center, one at the side, and another a bit behind.
Grimm shot again, piercing the skull of the corpse by the side, sending it into the lockers before it could even reach the barrier.
’He didn’t use his ability this time.’
At least the one that exploded his bullets.
He shifted his aim again before firing, targeting the waist of the leading corpse in the center before pulling the trigger.
Its left side exploded in a mess of blood and bone, the backward momentum sending it careening into the corpses behind it, their own forward drive canceling its momentum.
The result was the shot corpse and the next two behind it tumbling into the growing pile of corpses serving as the barricade.
Yet, unlike what Mr. Morgan or any of them would’ve wanted, the crash shifted the pile, disrupting the flame wall.
And in the moment before the fire consumed its new fuel, the last two in the center broke through the gap.
Mr. Morgan wasted no time stepping forward to meet them. His bat swung into the face of the first before it made contact, yet the second slipped by him entirely, heading towards Brandon.
Only to find Miles in its path. As though sensing nearer prey, it changed directions, charging directly towards him.
He remained calm in the face of it. He was sure any normal person would have been anxious, terrified even. There was a part of his mind that *was*—anxious, terrified, and telling him to run.
Yet it was swallowed like a ripple on the calm surface of the sea, muffled like shouts through a pane of glass.
Suppressed. It would not reach his surface. It couldn’t affect him.
He sidestepped when there remained only a few feet between him and the freezing mass of flesh and blood, letting it pass him by.
Before it could turn, he slammed his bat into its exposed back, targeting its spine. It went down instantly.
But it wasn’t dead.
Giving it little time to reorient, he swung again, his iron bat smashing into the back of its skull. The kickback spiked pain in his wrists.
Yet he swung again, targeting the same spot. There was a crack, and the corpse stopped moving entirely.
He barely felt winded.
’Is—’
His train of thought was interrupted by a gunshot. Grimm was targeting the last among the third wave.
The shot had blown a chunk off its shoulder, yet it showed little signs of stopping, heading straight for the flames.
It was only then Miles noticed it looked different from all the corpses they’d faced so far. Its skin was somehow paler and patchier than the others’.
Its shirt was torn, revealing long arms covered in lean and wiry muscles, darkened by a frostbite that had almost spread to its chest.
At the pace it was going, there was little doubt that it would break their barrier, even if the flames caught on. There was still another wave behind it.
"Fuck!"
Swearing for the first time since Miles had known him, he clicked something on his rifle before leveling it at the corpse. His face was noticeably pale as he did so.
A burst of four shots rang out, each blowing holes in the corpse’s chest, neck, and arms, finally stalling it as it tripped over the barrier before falling face-first onto the ground.
Its momentum hadn’t vanished completely though; its fall shifted the barrier even further, weakening the flames. Worse still, the fire barely caught onto its downed body.
There was a cough, then the sound of blood hitting the ground. It was Grimm. He’d slumped against his position by the locker, gun dropped to his side as he held a bloodstained hand in front of himself.
Then he coughed again, more blood spilling onto it.
"Grimm!"
Mr. Morgan headed straight for the boy, but not without shouting more instructions.
"Burn the corpses."
Brandon paled a little at the command, paling even more as he summoned, then shot a wave of flames towards the barrier, reigniting it.
His hand trembled as he lowered it, leaning against the lockers for support.
By then, Mr. Morgan finally reached Grimm. The boy weakly kept a hand on his dropped gun as he coughed even more blood onto his hand and the floor.
The vice-principal raised Grimm’s head slightly to find the boy hyperventilating with deeply inflamed eyes. He choked a little as the blood he coughed slid back down his throat, prompting the man to tilt his head back.
Chloe had already appeared behind the boy, hooking her arms beneath his—a gesture Mr. Morgan could only nod at before reaching for the boy’s gun.
Although still in the midst of coughing, Grimm tightened his grip on the weapon, to which Mr. Morgan only pulled harder, wrenching it from his grasp, giving Chloe the chance to finally pull him to the back.
The man slanted the rifle, glancing to see it was still on burst, then looked at the semi-transparent magazine.
"Only about half full."
He muttered.
’Fifteen rounds?’
There had also been a time Miles had been interested in guns. Not that it mattered. The fourth wave was almost upon them. There were more corpses behind them, and the crowd at the very end of the corridor still showed no signs of decreasing.
’Are all the corpses in the building here?’
A growing sense of incongruity had been gnawing at the back of his mind ever since they’d left the gym. Ever since they’d seen that window.
The strange view outside.
The disturbing familiarity he sensed staring at the endless path that had replaced the gym.
The nonsensical geometry and architecture.
The never-ending corridors.
The fact that none of them had grown even a little winded.
The seemingly infinite corpses here.
And most importantly, the fact he still hadn’t received a skill for any of his kills.
Arranging the oddities out like that finally made something click in his mind.
’I—is this all an illusion?’
A gunshot rang out. The fourth wave was upon them now.
