Chapter 22: Entering Lexington Charter!
"Then let’s go!" I urged them. Without waiting for a response, I sprinted toward the main building, my eyes scanning for the closest entrance.
The Lexington Charter Academy loomed before us like something out of a Gothic novel—all stone facades, arched windows, and ornate architectural details that spoke of old money and older traditions. Even in broad daylight, the building cast long shadows across the manicured courtyard, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were running toward a fortress rather than a school.
Behind us, the infected were gaining ground. I could hear their shuffling footsteps on the concrete, punctuated by the occasional moan or the scrape of dragging limbs.
The main entrance was a massive set of double doors, carved from what looked like solid oak and fitted with brass handles that had probably cost more than my family’s car. Gothic arches framed the doorway, and stone gargoyles perched above, their weathered faces seeming to leer down at us with ancient malevolence.
I grabbed the ornate brass handle and pulled hard, expecting the familiar give of an unlocked door. Instead, it held fast, not budging even a fraction of an inch.
"What?" I pulled again, harder this time, putting my full weight behind it. Nothing.
How was this possible? The virus had only started spreading two days ago. The academy grounds were clearly compromised; we’d seen infected wandering the campus. So why were the main doors locked?
These weren’t just any doors either. They were clearly like one of the primary student entrance, the ones hundreds of students passed through every morning. During regular school hours, they should have been wide open, propped with the usual doorstops to handle the flow of students between classes.
"They are coming!" Sydney’s voice snapped me out of my confused thoughts.
I turned to see the infected closing the distance between us. The group from outside the gate had been joined by others as well?
"Get back," I said, gently pushing Rachel and Rebecca away from the door.
I backed up several steps, looked at the the door with new eyes. It was old, probably original to the building, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was weak. The wood was thick, dark with age and multiple coats of varnish. The brass fittings looked solid, and the frame was set deep into the stone archway.