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“Who are you?” He asks.

“Reed,” I answered.

It’s the first time I’ve spoken my name in a long time. Even when the world wasn’t a piece of shit, I didn’t go by Reed; I was Reaper. I was a trained assassin and killed more people than I care to admit. Who would’ve thought that now I'd be trying to ‘save’ them instead? Though Noah’s friend was starting to get on my nerves with the way he was holding that mallet.

At the thought of the mallet, I bend down towards his friend, picking the thing up. I stand back up, holding out the mallet for Noah.

“What’s this?” He questions, blinking down at it.

“A mallet…” I frown. Has he never seen one before? It wouldn’t surprise me. He was probably in college, barely lifting a finger. The idea tastes sour on my tongue.

“Well, yes, obviously it’s a mallet, mydead friend’smallet at that. I mean, what do you expect me to do with it?”

He can’t be serious. Only I know he is the moment he stares up at me. I let out a breath and twist the mallet around.

“You’re not going to kill any lurker with those,” I tell him, pointing towards his pockets. “The mallet is more practical.”

“I hate that name. Whoever came up with the idea of them being lurkers needs to be shot. I mean, we grew up watching zombie movies and shows; we should know the proper way to get rid of them.”

“The government is stupid; what do you expect?” It was a rhetorical question, but he seems to think it’s a good idea to comment.

“Sure, but why can’t we just learn from past mistakes or look at the million dollars they spent making the movies? Couldn’t they, I don’t know, figure a way out to?—”

“Listen, Noah. I would love to sit here and debate why zombies are a thing and what their name is. But we do have to go.”

I hike my backpack further on my shoulder, tucking my bat under my arm. Glancing around, I make sure there’s nothing I might need. Satisfied there’s nothing, I turn towards Noah, who’s already staring at me.

“Come on.”

I don’t bother waiting for him to make up his mind about following me or not. Heading towards the cracked door, I peek out, searching for any sign of zombies. Once it’s clear, I step out, feeling Noah behind me. I reach back, grabbing my bat as we keep close to the wall. Keeping it at my side, I tilt my head, listening for any sudden movement.

“Where are we going?” Noah whispers behind me.

I roll my eyes. I don’t plan on sticking with him. The moment I get us out of this building, hopefully alive, we’re going our separate ways. I don’t need to stick around a human, much less a human that I’m craving to sink my teeth into.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“Yes.” I grunt out.

Noah huffs but doesn’t say anything else.

When we get to the end of the hall, I hear it. The flesh being ripped apart and the smacking of their lips. I hear them swallowing the blood, the organs trickling down their throats. My mouth waters.

Fuck.

I feel my eyes grow heavy, the need to rip apart the human standing behind me. I stop midstep; Noah slams into my back.

“Shit,” he mutters.

The noises quieten down, and the chewing of flesh eases. I have about two seconds to decide if I’m going to fight against who knows how many zombies or make a run for it.

“Wh—”

I swing around and slam my hand over his mouth just as the faint sound of three sets of footsteps echoes down the hallway.

Too late.

I reach around, grabbing my mini pickaxe. I back up, knocking into Noah, who thankfully gets the hint and begins to back up as well. Standing in front of Noah, I widen my stance. It’s then that three zombies come running around the corner, their milky eyes zeroing in on us.