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Zombie Pines was a ******** deathtrap. but leave it to Andeon and Mackenzie to feel as though they needed to go look for survivors while most of the others were either sleeping or standing guard over their 'home' camp.

On rare occasion a scream would pierce the eery silence. If Andeon had learned one thing from horror movies and his brief stint in Death Academy for Gifted Young People Soon To Be Dead, it was that you never, ever went towards the screaming. Tired, hungry people in need of help did not scream like they were being murdered. People who were being ******** murdered screamed like that, and Andeon just wasn't up for an instance of too little, too late that would just leave him face to face with whatever horrendous creature happened to be to blame.

Their task was made infinitely more difficult by the fact that they couldn't shout for survivors. Even armed with their feeble weapons, even the slightest noise could act like a homing beacon for the remaining zombies. They had to pick their way carefully across the campus, walking on bloody, dismembered eggshells so as to not alert the undead horde to their presence.

“We should check the library,” Andeon whispered, tightening his grip on the flagpole that served as his weapon, “Any of the main areas are more likely to attract people looking for somewhere safe.”

Micky gave a silent nod, the thought not occurring to her that Andeon might not be able to see it. The sound of the voice, echoing way too loud to them, snapped the redhead to attention, all nerves on fire as she lifted the flashlight slowly to the person who spoke. At first it was a relief -- the voice seemed friendly, and was calling Andeon by name. The zombies she had come in contact with before this had all been less than rational. It soon became apparent, however, that things were very very wrong. As the light lifted to Benny's face, Micky immediately froze, her muscles locking. Gunshot. To the temple.

There was absolutely no way that Benny Beldon was 'alive.'

Sucking in a slow, shaky breath, Mack swallowed, her eyes flickering from the raised gun to the other student's face, her mouth going dry. "Hey... Benny," She replied warily, trying to keep her voice relatively calm and neutral, "What're you doing over here?"

Public relations... they could do this. Benny seemed rational... despite the... blood stained teeth... and the gun in his hand. Maybe she could reason with him. Maybe. At this point, it seemed the best option. The fact remained that neither of them could outrun a bullet. Moving one elbow slowly, ever so slowly, she applied just a hint of pressure to Andeon's side. It was dark. She didn't know how well zombies could see, but it looked like the only source of light was the flashlight. Maybe... Andeon could try to work into a better position...

Then again, Andeon's name had been the first he had called.

Benny raised his gun and fired in apparent surprise (or was it?) as Andeon barrelled towards him with his makeshift spear. There was the pop, pop! of a gun going off, and things were happening too quickly to see where the bullets went -- his mouth was lifted in a snarl and the wandering pupils were now wandering at twice the speed, darting in and out like surprised fishes as he dropped the gun and reared forward --

The spade flagpole rammed through his shoulder. This was possibly one for the American Way.

The shots rang loudly in Andeon's ears, his eardrums stinging from the close-range fire. It was compounded by a sudden pain as one bullet grazed his shoulder, leaving only a shallow trail of blood before embedding itself in the far wall. He wanted to make some kind of noise, to whine and cry and b***h and piss and moan about being shot, but there was no time for that. He twisted the spear violently, and was just about to try and yank it out for another go when he heard the sick, squishy, all too familiar sound of a Little Slugger making contact with zombie flesh.

Thwack!

God ******** bless Mackenzie O'Connell.

Disappointing. Linarite was incredibly bored with this whole scenario, and was feeling particularly bitchy. Bitchy enough that she wanted to bring beloved Nealite a little present. Specifically, the head of one Andeon Boskovic. The glares and eyerolling that had accompanied his pickup lines and bombastic slurs had been too hilarious for the teen, and it was about time someone did something to kill off these morons.

Chronos was out there somewhere, and they weren't supposed to let her get to any of the rest of the kids. If dismembered, there was probably no way that he could be resurrected. Right?

Setting this thought aside, Lina turned to browse through her mental choice, before grabbing three youma students at random. She didn't know their names, and really didn't care to. They were beyond such things now, and would follow her every command. 'Follow me' was simple enough, and while they were mildly resistant, they did what she asked with silence.

"Well, it's not surprising that you don't die so easily, Andeon. Perhaps Ms. Johnson cast you well enough after all." The bluenette's voice carried smoothly across the empty space, denying any relief the pair of students might have felt at the re-death of Benson. "Not even a youma with a gun is effective."

“I'VE BEEN SHOT! CALL THE COAST GUARD.” Andeon said abruptly, the tone of his voice making the drama of the moment quite apparent. “CALL THE NAVY. CALL NATALIE PORTMAN.” He wailed, jazz-handing with the arm that hadn't been horribly, awfully, terribly wounded (read as: lightly grazed by the bullet). Of course, she couldn't see his classic glee club gesture, but that was entirely besides the point. Mackenzie's lips on his cheek brought a moment of joy. They were alive. They were both alive. He wasn't going to have to bury Mackenzie O'Connell. He wouldn't have to see her lying on the ground, pale and cold and looking up at him with eyes that asked 'Why couldn't you save me? Why couldn't you save any of us?”

Because they were alive. Sure, they were still trapped in a zombie-infested school from hell, but they were alive.

And then the relief drained from his body and the color drained from his face as Linarite's voice echoed in the room, shattering the moment of bliss like a rock through a window pane. The overwhelming relief of being alive was stolen away with that simple statement, and Andeon turned his head towards the source. He reached for the flashlight, groped blindly along the floor, until his hand found the cold metal tube. Thumb pressed down on the rubber button until he heard the telltale click and a beam of light illuminated the blue-haired lieutenant.

Andeon shot to his feet, sidestepping in front of Mackenzie. It was instinct by now, really. Where his sudden sense of obligation over those past few days had come from he neither knew nor cared. Maybe it was simply part of being a man, or his chauvinism telling him the Mackenzie, who had just saved his a**, needed him. Maybe it was just his fondness for women. After all, he would not have stepped in front of Lucas like that. Or Nihls. Or Sue. Then again, Sue was a d**k. Whatever it was, he felt that same sense of dread as he set an angry gaze upon the bold bluenette, brow narrowed above the rose-colored glasses.

A youma, she had said. Is that what these monsters were called then? These insane, bloodthirsty mimics of the people they had known and loved. Only one thing was clear to Andeon; they were finally meeting someone who knew what was going on. Someone who was cool and calm and collected, standing there and speaking as though she owned the place.

Someone who seemed intent on killing them all.

It was not until Andeon's eyes fell upon the three students that he realized they never stood a chance. For a moment he could only stare, wide-eyed and slack jawed at the faces he had seen in the halls during better days. Mouths that had once gossiped and laughed now hung agape. Hands that had once written shitty essays about federal government and the Boston Tea party now hung, gnarled and clawed and ready to rip them both limb from limb. He stared at them, first horrified, then mournful. His expression went through a series of emotions, but where it landed was resignation. Acceptance. The look of tired admittance, where you knew that you were outnumbered and outmatched. There were no more free passes, no more narrow misses.

In one sudden, staggering moment, Andeon Boskovic realized that he was going to die.

And so, he inhaled one deep, slow breath. He lifted his chin to fix the bluenette with a sturdy gaze which slipped, only momentarily, to the students at her side. To the monsters that would be the death of him, so that the blue-haired b***h wouldn't have to get her own ******** hands dirty.

“Not in front of her.” He asked, his voice steady but pleading. Surely, she wanted to kill both of them, but it was he who she had spoken to. It was he who she had targeted with that piercing gaze. His brows rose slightly, and Andeon fought back a wave of terror that threatened to make his knees buckle. He could die. Of course, he could die. Some small part of him, beneath the boozing and the sleeping around and the constant escape from everything real and human and intimidating, had been waiting for that day. All of the emotion he'd stored away the day Jakob died came rushing out of him. All of the feeling and humanity and willingness to face life as it was, instead of how he wished it had been, came pouring out into those simple words.

“Please.. let me say goodbye, and just let her go.”

This girl made her sick. Mackenzie was up in an instant, snatching Andeon by the shoulder and whipping him around, jerking him forcefully away from the blue-haired girl threatening him. In her stomach, anger was coiling in her stomach, quickly replacing anything else she had felt. She was still shaking -- quivering like a leaf -- but the fear had diminished, crushed beneath Linarite's pretty booted heel. She really wanted to kill him.

Diplomacy be damned.

"There will be no goodbyes," She replied through calm, narrowed eyes, straightening her spine and standing up as tall as she could. To a normal person, Mack might have looked threatening, her height unusual for girls. Linarite, however, was no normal girl. She knew this... it didn't take a genius to realize someone who could control these zombies was less than normal. "I don't know who you are, but this is Team Tallahassee. We don't roll over for bitches like you."

She didn't know what she was planning to accomplish. The youma hung behind Linarite like obedient minions, ready to devour them at any moment. But by now, it didn't matter. The need to survive had overridden who she was, who she had been, and in that moment, Mackenzie had realized. It was wrong. It was all wrong. THIS was wrong. And she certainly was not going to turn over anyone -- not Andeon, not Nihls, not Lucas or Billy or Kirin or Piper or even Sue, god damn Sue, whom Andeon hated for whatever reason.

"We're going to make it," She mumbled, a small, twistedly confident smile curling the redhead's lips, squeezing Andeon's shoulder, "You're not going to die. We're getting out of here. I promise."

It all happened so fast. Suddenly Micky was raising her arm, revealing not the baseball bat but the gun Benny had dropped as he had died. Within the next few seconds she released a few shots in quick succession at the Negaverse Lt, her arm jerking with the recoil of an obvious newbie.