The first light of dawn slipped through the cracked windows, pale and sickly, falling across the scattered bodies of the twelve survivors who had huddled together for warmth during the night. The air was dry, the snacks they'd shared were long gone, and the mood had turned brittle with hunger and exhaustion.
Lexi sat near the door, silent, her knees hugged close to her chest. The others hadn't offered her food. They hadn't offered her conversation. Instead, they'd thrown scraps of insults and laughter at her all night, mocking her weakness, forcing her to "stand watch" while they joked and whispered.
She had watched, yes. Just not in the way they thought.
Every flicker of the eye. Every twitch of the mouth. Every whispered plan. She read them all. And as she pieced them together, the board revealed itself.
They had already decided her fate.
Sasha stretched, her movements languid but her voice sharp. "We can't sit here any longer. We move, find supplies. And if those freaks show up—" Her eyes slid to Lexi. "—we know who runs first."
Kelvin snorted. "Yeah. She'll draw them off. She's useless otherwise."
Lexi lowered her gaze. She let her face burn with shame, her lips tremble. "If… if that's what it takes," she whispered.
The sneers satisfied them.
But inside her chest, her heart was steady. You've already made your move, Sasha. And you don't even see it.
They filed out into the hallway, twelve in all. The once-pristine high school was a graveyard now—lockers bent, bloodstains smeared across tiled floors, the faint groans of the half-dead carrying through the halls like whispers.
Lexi lingered at the back, small, quiet, unnoticed. From there she could see everything. How Kelvin's impatience made him storm ahead without caution. How Tori clung too tightly to Lisa, slowing them both down. How Sasha barked orders, but her hands shook when she thought no one was looking.
They were a puzzle of flaws. Lexi had already solved it.
The first death was almost immediate.
At the fire exit, Marcus—broad-shouldered, jittery—yanked on the rusted door. "It's jammed!" he hissed, pulling harder. The metal groaned, then screeched as it ripped free, the sound echoing through the stairwell.
Everyone froze.
The answering groans rose like a chorus. Shadows shifted at the bottom of the stairs. Dozens of them.
"Run!" Sasha snapped.
Panic fractured the group. They shoved past each other, their screams ringing down the hall.
Marcus stumbled, tripped, and before anyone could help, the first of the horde was on him. His cries were drowned in wet tearing sounds.
Lexi pressed herself against the wall, eyes wide, whispering "Oh no, oh no…" just loud enough to be convincing.
Inside, she counted. One gone. Eleven left. And Marcus was always the loudest piece on the board.
The group sprinted through a science wing. Glass shattered under their feet. A girl—Harper—tripped over a fallen chair. "Help me!" she screamed, scrambling.
Kelvin glanced back once, then sneered. "Leave her!" He shoved the others forward.
Sasha didn't protest.
The groans closed in. Harper's screams cut off in seconds.
Lexi covered her ears, trembling as though traumatized, but her mind was still cold. Kelvin played exactly as expected. Cruelty makes him predictable.
One by one, the numbers dwindled.
Two boys cornered themselves in a lab, too slow to escape when the dead burst through a window. Lisa, in her desperation, slammed a door shut to save Tori, leaving another girl outside to be dragged away, her fingers scraping uselessly at the glass until they snapped.
Each death was sudden, chaotic, inevitable.
And each time, Lexi survived. Not because she fought, not because she ran faster—but because she knew who would shove, who would falter, who would panic. She simply stepped where she knew the cracks would appear.
Ten. Nine. Eight.
The board was clearing.
By late afternoon, the halls were quieter. Bloody. Empty. The group had been carved down by teeth and betrayal.
Now there were only five. Sasha. Kelvin. Lisa. Tori. And Lexi.
They collapsed in a dusty stairwell, panting, sweat dripping from their foreheads. Their clothes were ripped, their arms streaked with dirt and blood that wasn't theirs.
Sasha hugged herself, trembling. "We… we lost everyone…"
Kelvin's jaw was tight. "Dead weight. Better this way."
Tori wept silently, her face buried in Lisa's shoulder.
And Lexi—Lexi rocked faintly, her hands pressed to her temples, whispering, "Why me? Why am I the only one who keeps… keeps making it out?" Her voice cracked, the perfect note of guilt and grief.
Sasha looked at her, suspicion flickering in her tired eyes. For a moment, it seemed she might speak.
But then she looked away. After all, Lexi was just the weak girl. The nobody. The pawn.
Lexi lowered her gaze, hiding the smile tugging at her lips.
No, Sasha. You're the pawn.
Four remained. Exactly the four Lexi wanted.