100 Days in Deadland (Deadland Saga, #1)(35)

A sea of jaundiced dead faces looked up at me, growling, reaching, and chomping. I moved carefully and slowly onto the next frame, careful to distribute my weight over two rows of metal framing. I had no idea how much weight these ceilings were meant to hold, but they sure as hell couldn’t have been built for human travel.

I crawled over one panel to the next, pausing every few panels to catch my breath. My directions were jumbled in the darkness. I had no idea if I was heading toward the parking lot, back to the playground, or if I was going in circles. I lifted the edge of the panel to find that I was still in the cafeteria. Zeds stood under the opening I’d made in the ceiling in the opposite side of the room, still looking up, sniffing the air, reaching, mouths opening and closing like baby birds.

A crack of light filtered in through the corner I’d lifted and lit up the wall of concrete blocks in front of me. Shit. The ceiling ended where the wall separated the cafeteria from the hallway. My arms and legs were already shaking. I had to figure out something or else I’d fall right down into the cafeteria again. Except this time, I’d never have the strength to get back up here.

But there was nothing up here except space, wiring, and…air ducts. My attention shot to the large duct leading straight through the center of the cafeteria and through the concrete wall. Many smaller ducts ran off it like a spider’s legs. Ducts looked so much bigger in the movies, but I prayed that this one would be big enough. It had to be.

I made my way toward the metal duct. Sweat burned my eyes and tickled my neck as rivulets ran down to soak my shirt. By the time I reached the duct, I was exhausted and clumsy, nearly tumbling off the ceiling grid twice. I moved alongside the duct until I found where one section ended and another began. Both were held together by screws. I pulled out my tanto and used the tip to unscrew the first screw, and then the next. It was a painfully slow process to take out the six screws on the sides I could reach.

I pushed against the duct but it didn’t budge. Trading my knife for the axe, I pulled back a few measly inches and swung. The metal clanged and dented, echoed by moaning and shuffling below. A couple dozen hits later, the duct broke open. I slid the axe inside and shoved myself through. Sharp metal from the axe’s damage dug into me, but I continued to squeeze into the tiny boxed-in darkness until I filled up the area of the duct.

I sneezed in the dust-laden air, causing the zeds below to echo with moans. Using my elbows, I pulled myself forward. I could see nothing except light filtered in from vents every eight feet or so.

At each vent, I paused and looked down. The hallway was filled with shoulder-to-shoulder zeds sniffing the air. When the duct split into three pathways, I decided to head left over the hallway, hoping it would bring me to the front doors. I followed the duct, through several more intersections.

I sobbed out in exhausted frustration. My cramped muscles burned. My helmet clanged against the metal, but there was no space to take it off and leave it behind. When I finally reached a vent where I could see the front doors, I rested my head against the vent and nearly cried.

The glass doors were blocked by zeds.

Biting back a whimper, I backed up about ten feet until I came to an intersection and I took the first right. This duct led to a room with a couple office-style desks. It wasn’t a classroom, which gave me some hope.

Seeing no movement below, I fidgeted with the vent until I figured out how to remove it, and it dropped, landing on the floor with an echoing clang. Something moaned, and a shadow moved. A female, wearing khakis and a blue blouse with dark stains, stepped on the vent and looked around.

“Can’t I get a f*cking break?” I muttered.

Moving slowly, I reached out of the duct with the axe. The zed looked up right as I swung. The axe caught it in the forehead, and it tumbled back, taking the axe with it.

I grabbed my machete and waited for another one, but none came. I breathed in and out and waited. Dropping down feet first into a room with possible zeds was not my idea of a good time.

Careful to not bang my helmet on the metal, I lowered my head out of the vent to scan the room. It was an office with two desks and glass walls. The principal’s office was just on the other side of the glass wall to the right, and it was still occupied by a zed in a tailored skirt suit. She rocked on her feet, looking out the window.

The other glass walls faced two angles of the hallway, giving full views of the zed near the front doors. At least both doors were closed, but I had no idea if they were locked or would hold back the weight of zeds pushing against them.

I’d be in a fishbowl the moment I dropped.

Like the principal’s office, the fourth wall had a nice wide window overlooking the school parking lot. I could make out only one zed, and it was trapped inside a car. Maybe the zeds who’d escaped the Home Depot had followed Clutch’s truck when he left with Jase.

God, I hated maybes.

Unless the window was heavily tinted, the sun had nearly set, which meant I’d been crawling around this place for at least eight hours. I wasn’t the least bit surprised, not with how exhausted and thirsty I was. I even wondered if I’d be able to stand once I got out of this duct. My stomach had quit growling hours ago. My throat was parched, and my clothes were soaked.

I pulled my head back in, and shimmied forward over the opening so that I could back up and drop feet first into the room. I would’ve preferred to go head first to see around, but the opening was too tight, and there would be nothing to grab onto to keep me from breaking my neck from the drop.