They didn’t need a hammer.

Or for Sen to punch holes into vending machines, for that matter.

In the dimness of the hall, the five of them stood under the faint orange light of the embered moon, letting the smolderlight carve orange outlines along the sides of their faces. Sen and Em stood over Benji, who was kneeling in front of the machine with a screwdriver in his hand and a lockpick between his fingers.

“Where the hell did you learn how to pick a lock?” Sen huffed, glaring at the vending machines. “And why do you carry a set of lockpicks around?”

Benji gave him a sheepish smile. “It’s my, uh, hobby. Lockpicking. I buy locks and stuff online and try to figure them out, you know? I get sets.”

“Sets?”

“It’s how we managed to slip out of the underground gym,” Assad, who was keeping watch of the left corridor, spoke. He glanced at Benji and grinned, “The coach had the key, but we were lucky we knew about Benji’s strange hobbies.”

“Hobbies?” Em asked. “Plural?”

“Yeah. His uncle in Pakistan owns a gun range, so he plays around with gun parts. His room has some model ones that he likes to assemble and disassemble.”

Prince chimed in from across the hall, his gaze looking down the opposite way. “The man loves cop flicks too, so he’s got shit like handcuffs and batons all over the place. The lads and I used to call him the school shooter kid before we got to know each other.”

Sen gave him a look, “Are you sure you two aren’t just friends with a serial killer?”

“Nah. Our Benji boy’s too cute to be a serial killer.”

Sen and Em exchanged a look of doubt, but wisely stayed quiet. And soon, within seconds of fiddling, the door to the vending machine popped open as Benji worked his magic on the simple lock. The short, pudgy boy in glasses grinned as he pulled away, pride swelling in his eyes.

“That was a lot faster than last time,” he mumbled, smiling. Em gave him a look.

“Last time?”

“I lost track of time.”

“That definitely wasn’t what you said.”

“Oh, look, a row of KitKats.”

Em was an easy girl to bribe. She turned and shoved her hand into the vending machine, all suspicion forgotten. With her backpack gaping open, she shoveled the granola bars, chocolates, wafers, and bags of chips inside, squeezing them in as much as she could. Sen joined her without pause in plundering the gaping corpse of his archenemy. He squished what he could inside his laptop bag, glad to have dumped anything he didn’t need before.

And once the bags were filled, they moved on to the next.

Looted from the empty classrooms, the bags that once belonged to the mutated vampire students were perfect for keeping snacks inside. Sen had four empty packs slung over his torso and several more winding around his shoulders, strapped to his sides in a pile of hanging satchels.

By the time the vending machine was emptied, he’d filled up three of the bags with an assortment of snacks. Em had her own share filled as well.

“This is a lot lighter than I thought it would be,” she said, rolling her shoulders. “I thought these would weigh more.”

“What’s your Body attribute at?” Sen asked.

“Rank three. You?”

“Five.”

“Wow. You really are a jock. Leave some for Mind, will you?”

“You’re laughing now, but you won’t be once you realize that all I have to do is run faster than you when the vampires come.”

“That’s kind of fucked, Sen.”

“Like you wouldn’t trip me up at the first opportunity to get away.”

She laughed and jokingly punched his arm, but instead of hitting skin, her fist thumped back against the bone plates inside of Sen’s sleeves. She winced. “Bloody hell, okay,” she said. “Remind me never to do that again.”

“And miss you hurting yourself? Never,” Sen replied, adjusting the straps around his shoulders. He signaled to Assad and Prince down the hall and the two nodded. Sen nodded back as the two approached, “We’ve got a few more vending machines in the building,” he said. “Two on the first floor below us, one upstairs by the faculty, and a final one outside, next to the fire escape.”

Prince gave him a weird look, “Why do you know all this, again?”

“I’ve lost a lot of money to these things.”

The freshmen gave him weird looks, but Sen ignored them as he stepped up to the vending machine. He glanced around at his four partners in crime. “Have all of you been spending your Essence?” he asked.

Everyone but Benji nodded. All of them turned to him.

He scratched the back of his head.

“I mean, I play RPGs, but there’s a thing at the top of the interface. The Ability option that needs a thousand essence. I’ve been uh, putting my points into that. All of them. I’m close to unlocking it now.”

Assad raised an eyebrow at him, “You know what it does?”

“I don’t, but it looks good, doesn’t it? The expensive options are usually the best ones in games,” he said, and Prince scoffed.

“This ain’t a game, mate. What’re you gonna do if we need to run?”

“I… I’d prefer if it didn’t come to that.”

Sen put a hand on the guy’s shoulder. “He’s already spent the essence, so a lo hecho, pecho, as my aunt would say. No use complaining about it when it’s already happened. Does everyone but Benji have ranks in Body?”

A round of nods answered his question, and Sen hesitated for a moment, before he started taking off the bags around his chest. He passed it around to all of them equally, splitting the bags of feed among them until he had none left. Sen bit his knuckles in thought, before nodding.

“I’ll leave the bags with all of you,” he said. “And if we end up getting attacked, or having to run, you guys should escape without me and get back with the food. I have the armor skill and I bet I can run faster than any of you. So if we get ambushed… I’m bait.”

For the first time since they met, Sen saw a guilty look flash through Em’s face. She pursed her lips. “Hey,” she said. “You know I was joking when I said I wanted you to be the one taking the hits, right?”

He smiled, “Are you sure? You were pretty convincing.”

“That’s because I’m overwhelmingly charismatic. I’m always convincing,” she replied, an eyebrow raised. Then her expression went slack, and she sighed. “But even if I do look Jenna McDougall—”

“You really don’t.”

“—I still don’t like the idea of ditching someone to the vampire zombies. Even if that someone is you, vomit man.”

Benji gave them both a confused look, “Can someone please tell me what all the vomit talk is about?”

Sen and Em ignored him. Instead, he grinned and pushed at her shoulder, his eyes narrowing playfully. “You talk a lot of shit, but you actually like me, don’t you? You think I’m cool.”

“Honestly? I think volleyball players are superior.”

“How—How dare you.”

Offended, Sen took a step back in disgust. He wrinkled his nose at her and turned away, facing the rest of the group in turn. “It’s not like I’m saying I’ll go off and ditch all of you now,” he said. “I’m just volunteering because compared to all of you, I’m… better. I probably have the best chances of not dying horribly out of all of us.”

“Oh, cheers, mate,” Prince said. “Fuck you too.”

Assad flipped him off and Benji laughed.

Smiling, Sen stepped away, motioning for them to follow him as he led the group towards the next set of vending machines. Down the stairs they went, the tension returning as they descended into the darkness. Still, it was calm. There were no beasts in the dark waiting to kill them. No monsters in the shadows, and no vampires waiting to drop from the ceiling.

Just silence.

As they reached the first floor, Sen noticed the vampires in the distance. The monsters had their backs turned to them. They faced the collapsed west wing, still burning under the light of the moon and belching smoke up into the dark sky. Sen crept through the gloom as he watched them swarm around the smoldering corpse of the west wing like an army of ants.

The fire seemed to captivate them, somehow. It drew their attention away.

And in turn, it let Sen’s group loot the vending machines in peace.

The two on the first floor were practically bursting with snacks. And after only a few seconds of fiddling with the locks, Benji had them set for days’ worth of supplies. They stuffed them all into the bags, filling up each to the brim before moving on. And while they couldn’t reach the vending machine outside because of the vampires perched along the rooftops, the one of the fourth floor had the most important resource of all.

Water.

Or at least, that was what they thought.

The final vending machine’s door popped open, but the inside made Sen frown. The water bottles lined up along the wires were completely empty. Just plastic and air.

There was still hope, however. Em reached over Sen’s shoulder and grabbed one of the juice cartons, before shaking it. Sen released a breath of relief as he heard the juice slosh around inside. Quickly checking, he found that the contents of any containers completely encased in aluminum or carton had survived.

It seemed only the transparent ones had completely evaporated. He frowned at the empty water bottle in his hand, with not even a droplet of moisture inside.

“Looks like the sun grew a hate boner for water today,” Em said, looking over his shoulder. Sen nodded.

“At least the global warming crowd will have less ocean to worry about.”

Assad cupped his chin, “Bro. Do you think the ice caps completely melted?”

“No way,” Benji replied, “We’re seeing vampires instead of living through the plot of 2012, so probably not?”

Prince scoffed, “2012 was a rubbish movie, anyways. I’d rather have the vamps.”

“You did not just say that.”

“I will die on this hill, mate. Don’t start.”

Sen let them bicker as he finished dumping the surviving drinks into his bags. Sighing, he leaned back against the wall and popped the cap off a canned coffee, letting the sweet bitter of an espresso dance over his tongue. He glanced at his bag and hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in.

He plucked a cigarette from his bag and lit it with a match. Sen inhaled a puff of smoke and let it out.

Bliss.

He instantly felt his entire body relax. The sweet nicotine filled his mouth and calmed his brain. He felt his muscles untense. His stance turned lax, and by his third puff, Sen finally felt like himself again. Just a stupid teenager back in Spain, seeking thrills with his cousins and caring little about his grades. Then, after a day of climbing rooftops and jumping cliffs into the sea, he would unwind by the shore, smoking a stick in front of the sticky, sea breeze.

Sen exhaled another plume of smoke. He’d promised his aunt that he would stop, but…

“You smoke?” a voice asked, and Sen looked up to find Em leaning on the wall beside him. She gestured to his pack, “Mind if I have one?”

Sen gave her a look. “Smoking is bad for your lungs.”

“Not very convincing, coming from you. Don’t be stingy and fork one over.”

He let her have one, and Em lit it. She looked at the smoldering end for a moment, before shrugging and putting it between her lips. Em breathed in deep and—

—She coughed, jerking it out of her mouth and hacking into her sleeve. Em winced and scratched her cheek, before putting the stick into her mouth again. She breathed in slower this time, and only coughed a little when the smoke left her. Sen raised an eyebrow her way.

“Was that your first time?” he asked.

She shrugged.

“World’s ending. I might as well try out everything I can, right?”

“Right.”

Sen took a puff out from his cigarette and took another sip of coffee. Together, the coffee and the smoke felt right. It made him feel like he was at home again, for the first time since he’d flown to Dubai. Sen plucked his phone from his pocket and tried a number.

Beep. The number you have dialed cannot be reached. Please try again later.

He sighed.

“Someone from home?” Em asked. He nodded.

“My aunt. I’m… worried. About her. About back home. What about you? Tried calling your parents yet?”

“Nah. Haven’t.”

“Want to try?”

“Sure.”

Sen handed her his phone, but instead of dialing, she took out her phone as well. Em swapped contacts with him, putting her number into his phone and his into hers. She handed it back to him after.

“My mum and dad are divorced. Not really close with either of them anymore,” she said. “S’why I ran all the way here to Dubai. If I’m gonna live with strangers, it might as well be new ones. How about you? Got a tragic backstory to share?”

He felt himself smile a little, “My dad got mauled by a pack of wild dogs.”

“Seriously?”

Sen smiled, “Nah. He was part of a drug cartel. Joined to pay for mom’s hospital bills, then stayed after she didn’t recover. He got shot to death a few years after, and my aunt’s been my guardian since.”

Em made a face.

“You know,” she said, “I just said that to sound a little cool. Like, we’re smoking and all, you know? During the end of the world. And the moon’s fucked and there’s impending doom everywhere. It was just the right mood. I wasn’t expecting an actual tragic backstory.”

“It’s hardly tragic,” Sen scoffed. “It happened when I was still a baby. I don’t even remember either of them.”

Em nodded slowly, her face unsure.

“…Good for you?”

“You’d be great at a children’s hospital.”

“Oh, fuck off,” she laughed, cuffing him on the shoulder again. Thankfully for her, his bone armor had already worn off, leaving her knuckles unharmed.

Sen laughed and turned, moving to throw his empty espresso into the garbage chute against the wall. The can clattered into it, echoing down, down until it hit the trash heap far below. He leaned back against the wall next to Em.

It felt peaceful, up where they were. On the fourth floor, full of empty classrooms that hardly anyone visited. No vampires. No threats. Just a vending machine, unsettling moonlight, and tragic backstories that no one really took seriously. He almost didn’t want to leave.

And yet, a reason eventually came. It always did.

Tap, tap.

A sound. Tapping, on glass, coming from right behind them. Sen froze. Em stiffened. Together, they turned around to face the classroom window behind them. They peered into the darkness inside, and—

A girl.

She leaned against the window, her cheeks sunken and her eyes dry. Her skin flaked and withered, and her cracked lips would have bled if she had any blood to spare. The half-dead girl stared at them through the window, urging them on as her finger drummed against the glass.

Tap, ta-tap-ta, ta-tap, ta-tap-tap-ta.

Em rushed inside of the room immediately, Sen and the rest of them right behind her. They moved to help. To give her water. But even as they lifted her from the chair and set her down, trying to push Sen’s water bottle into her lips, she kept tapping on the ground.

Tap, ta-tap-ta, ta-tap, ta-tap-tap-ta!

Still, they didn’t listen. Still, they stayed inside. They ignored the withered corpses huddled in the corner and looked down at her when they should have been looking up.

But her tapping was fruitless. They didn’t understand her, and the girl couldn’t tell them:

She wasn’t telling them to come.

She was telling them to run.