With every bit of courage Betty could gather, she called out to the unknown figure. Trying to sound as threatening as possible, she weakly yelled out, "Whoever, or . . . Whatever you are, you better stay back. I have . . . Um . . . A spatula?" Yep. She was screwed.
For a second, it was just eerie silence. By now, if it was zombie, it would of clawed her face after making that pathetic threat. Soon enough, a pair of hands had gone up. One of which was holding a gun, which he or she had quickly dropped, in surrender.
Maybe they really didn't like spatulas.
She wasn't convinced that whatever "it" was, was human. Several students were turned into mimics and attempted to trick her. Yet again, these were the students who ran naked through the cafateria so they were easily out-smarted. She wouldn't think twice before going anymore near another human being after the apocalypse. It would be just like every other average day, but with zombies.
She felt more brave as she edged towards the pair of hands. If this was another airheaded mimic, then she could just easily throw a playboy magazine and make a run for it. "Come on. Get up and show me your face!"
The figure slowly stood up. It was blonde-haired man wearing a business shirt and a pair of pleats. On his back was an array of guns hanging from his belt and a baseball bat. Turning around, she saw a face that she had recognized. Instantly, Betty had dropped her spatula.
"Uncle Frank!?" shock had come across the Frank Hugh's face. In the same second, it had turned into a widespreaded grin. That he was able to find his favorite niece through the hordes of zombies seemed impossible, but she was right there. "Betty?"
She instantly ran towards him and tackled him into a warm embrace. The sound of his heart beat was reassuring enough.
"Betty, you gotta be careful during times like these. I was this close smashing a baseball bat into your skull!" he said, still a bit shocked.
"I missed you too, uncle Frank." after refraining from the hug, she took a big long look at here uncle. It was strange to see her calm well-mannered accountant of an uncle suddenly go all Rambo. Rips and bloodstains were all over his shirt. He kept guns around his belt. There was a bullet hole through one of the lenses in his glasses. "Sorry for threatening to gut you with a spatula."
"I don't mind. I just thought it was kinda sad that that was the best weapon you had." he grabbed the handgun from his belt and a survival knife. "There. You have now been un-pathetic-erized."
Having an actual weapon in her hands felt rather uncomfortable, but she could get used to it. "Thanks." she kept the survival knife in her pocket and held tightly to the handgun. "What are you doing here anyways?"
He grimaced. "As you can tell, we've got a huge infestation problem with zombies. I was worried about your safety and I expected that you were stuck here in the highschool of bat-shitery. And I was able to find you!" he took a look of his surroundings. "And . . . Now I don't know how to get out."
Betty quickly answered out of nowhere. "Down the hall, to the right, and pass the gym there's an emergency exit." Frank thought about the option.
"I don't know. I passed by that gym area, and it was infested with vampires and level twos. Might be a bit too risky." Betty searched her brain for any more routes.
"Well there's another way past the office. But it's way harder to find. The only thing it has is a bunch of level ones hanging around." Frank thought about his two options.
"Well, I say we . . .
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