I ran over to the double doors, turned the lock and reached up to slide the bolts into place. Jo ran over holding a chain from the back room and wrapped it around the handles, locking it into place with a padlock.

We ripped off our uniforms and hats and followed Wyatt and Ben as they dragged the corpse through the swinging doors into the back room.

In a loud crunch, Wyatt pulled the knife out of the dead man’s face and threw the body into the walk-in freezer, with Ben slamming the door shut.

We immediately started rummaging through all the drawers in the kitchen, gathering knives of all sizes, the diner’s fire extinguisher, even scissors – whatever we thought we could use to defend ourselves. “I have an idea.” Ben said as he ran out of the kitchen.

We followed him through diner and into the office, each of us clutching to a butcher knife. Ben ran over to the lost and found box that sat under the desk and started searching through it. “Yes!” He smiled as he pulled out a medium sized can of hairspray and a lighter. I looked at him blankly, wondering what on earth he needed them for.
He then ran back into the kitchen, with us trailing close behind.

Opening the kitchen closet, he started pulling out brooms and mops and throwing them to each of us, then without saying a word, he ran back over to the drawer, pulled out some duct tape and ran back out into the diner, taking a seat in one of the only booths that wasn’t right next to a window. Jo, Wyatt and I followed him and each took a seat at the booth, wondering what he was up to.

“Pass me your knife.” He gestured to Jo, and she handed her knife to him, curious as to what he was doing.
We sat and watched in awe as he proceeded to tape the handle of her butcher knife to the end of one of the broomsticks. Holding it up to show his creation, Ben motioned to us to do the same. We grabbed the tape and started working on our own makeshift spears.

Once we were done, Jo looked over at the hairspray and lighter sitting on the table.
“What are they for?”
“If it works… A flame thrower. But it probably won’t kill them, maybe it’ll slow them down. I don’t know.” Ben answered, reading the label on the hairspray can.
I looked at him in shock, wondering how he suddenly had such expert knowledge on homemade weaponry.
“I play a lot of post apocalyptic video games.” He smirked, reading the curiosity in my expression.

“What else do you know about…” I paused, not knowing what to call the undead creatures that now wandered the streets. “Zombies?” He asked, finishing my sentence.
“Do you really think that’s what they are?” I asked, fearful of his answer. “I don’t know what else they could be,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “First, a virus spreads across half of the country. Classic cause for a zombie outbreak. Then, that guy said he was bitten, and he died. He died. Minutes later, he gets up and he’s all deranged and decaying and has an intense craving for human flesh? Sounds like a zombie to me.”

As much as I hated to admit it, I knew he was right. I’d seen my fair share of zombie movies and watched every episode of The Walking Dead, I knew a zombie when I saw one. But never in my wildest nightmares did I expect to be living it.

“So what do we do?” Wyatt looked up at Ben, taking a break from his weapon-making, “Well, I don’t know how much of it applies,” replied Ben as he shifted uneasily in his seat. “But if these zombies are anything like the ones from the video games and movies, the only way to really kill them is to destroy their brain, like Eva did with the knife in the eye before. But it’s hard, really hard. The best way to survive is to stay away from them. To run and hide. We have to be quiet, we need to gather weapons and food, and whatever happens, we can’t get bitten.”

I couldn’t believe it. My head started to spin as I tried to process everything he had said, and I felt my body start to go numb with fear. I suddenly felt light-headed at the thought of spending the rest of my life being chased by ravenous, wretched zombies.
This can’t be happening, I thought as I stood up from the table.

“We should eat. It’s well passed lunch time and none of us have eaten yet. We’ll need our strength.” I said, even though I wasn’t feeling very hungry. I needed to distract myself from my terror, even just for a few minutes.
I walked unsteadily into the kitchen, with the others following close behind.

We spent the next hour in silence, making ourselves salad sandwiches and quietly eating them on the floor behind the counter, out of sight from any deadly passers by.

We decided it would be best to not have burgers – Pop Rock’s signature meal – because the smell of cooking meat sizzling on the stove might lure more zombies our way. Even though the doors were locked and bolted, it would only require a hand-full of zombies to break through the windows. Besides, after seeing that monster try to tear into my leg earlier, drool dripping from its mouth as it craved my flesh, meat had lost its appeal.

As I sat on the cold tiles eating my sandwich, I thought about what Ben had said, about weapons, destroying brains, running and hiding, all the things we now needed to do to survive.
It made everything that had happened last night seem so unimportant. So trivial. Yesterday I was complaining about having to wake up early for work, now I don’t know if I’ll even wake up at all tomorrow. If I’ll even be alive that long to experience such a blessing.

All the little problems of yesterday had been completely washed away and replaced by one sole focus: survival.

Finishing my sandwich, I brushed the crumbs off of my lap and stood up, watching the windows intently as I walked towards the office.

“Eva, where are you going?” Jo asked as I walked passed her.

“To watch the news. If we’re going to get through this, we need as much information as we can.”