Zombie High (3 page)

Spurred into action, you run forward and try to
help Mr. Tibbs deal with the old man. You have no
weapons, this is a school after all, but the idea of
something happening to your favorite science teacher is
too much to witness and not get involved. Rushing
forward, you lift the history book you once said was so big
that it must contain everything since the dawn of man and
slam it down onto the old man’s back. The sudden impact
jars the old man and makes him fall to his knees, giving
Mr. Tibbs a second to back away. As he does so, he pulls
his long sleeve sweater up from his wrist revealing
another sleeve, this one part of the shirt he has beneath
the sweater. Yanking it back as well, the skin on his
forearm looks to be red, but it’s not bleeding. Apparently
the two layers were sufficient to hold back the old man’s
biting teeth.

Unfortunately, you are not wearing two layers, and
the wonderful flesh of your hand is completely exposed as
the old man grabs it and shoves it into his gaping mouth.
Just as you try to pull away, you feel his teeth sink into
your hand, and your pinky gets trapped behind his back
molars in a way that bends it in an unnatural angle. As
pain shoots up your arm, you bend over instinctively
trying to relieve the pressure and see your own blood
pouring out of the old man’s mouth.

Attempting to help you, Mr. Tibbs steps up behind
you and takes hold of the sides of the old man’s face and
tries to pull him away from you and back towards the
outside. As he does so, however, you see some of the old
man’s paper thin loose skin begin to peel back, and you
find yourself looking away, unwilling to watch this happen
before you. It’s at this point that you spot the old man’s
wife, who has just shambled up to the front of the school
as well, and she latches on to Mr. Tibbs, biting the back of
his neck.

Acting in self-defense, you thrust your foot into the
old man’s waist and pull, in order to free yourself. The
force of it is more than you expected, however, and you
find yourself flying backwards towards the crowd of
students who are standing behind you, watching while the
old man tips backwards out the door.

Your friend Steve, pushes his way through the
crowd in an attempt to reach you, but as you start to sit
up, your eyes lock on the gruesome fall of Mr. Tibbs just
outside the school as he is taken down by two of the
walking dead. It occurs to you that if you hadn’t rushed
in, Mr. Tibbs might have made it free on his own, and you
wouldn’t now be infected and doomed to be one of the
walking dead.

Your friend Steve helps you to your feet, and the
crowd, still open mouthed and staring out the glass doors,
begins to part as he helps you to the office.

Once there, Steve helps you into the nurse’s office
but the two of you quickly find that Nurse Jackie isn’t
going to be helping anyone else today, no one except for
Nathan who is helping himself to a yet another delicious
bite of her flesh. Turning to leave the way you both came
in, you see Steve’s exposed arm and are overcome with
curiosity. “What does he taste like?”

Turning, you plow through the crowd of students
and head for the main office hoping someone there can
help Mr. Tibbs. When you get there, you try to explain to
the school secretary what you saw, but the words come
out in a jumble, falling over each other as your tongue
tries to keep up, and she doesn’t understand a word of
what you’re saying. Taking a breath, you repeat the
important parts saying, “Mr. Tibbs is being attacked at the
front door. You’ve got to help him.”

Your words alone might have been seen as a
possible prank, but the secretary recognizes the urgency
in your voice as genuine and rushes over to the PA system
where she says, “Mr. Jameson to the main entrance. Mr.
Jameson to the main entrance,” before she gets any more
details from you.

Dropping the microphone back onto the desk, she
comes out from behind her counter and asks, “Who was
attacking him?”

Attempting to explain, you say, “I don’t know,
some old guy. He came up to the door and knocked.
When Mr. Tibbs opened it, the dude just bit him.”

“Bit him you say?” asks the secretary. “Okay, you
head back to class, and we’ll make sure he’s okay.”
Trying to explain the problem, and wrapping your
own mind around it at the same time, you speak your
thoughts aloud saying, “But the old man, he didn’t look
right. I think…” and you pause before you say the one
thing that will either be believed and save lives or
dismissed and allow others to fall. Finally, you muster up
and say it, finishing your thought, “I think he was a
zombie.”
The secretary looks you in the face, clearly not
believing you, but at the same time unable to shake the
fact that it’s clear that you believe what you saw. Finally,
she says, “How about you have a seat here, and I’ll find
out exactly what’s going on.”
Looking over to the cracked leather chair where so
many kids have had to sit waiting for their sentencing, you
turn back to her and ask, “You don’t believe me, do you?
You think I’m just making this stuff up.”
“No, I believe that Mr. Tibbs was attacked, but we
both know zombies aren’t real. How about you take a
seat, and when Mr. Jameson comes back, we’ll get some
answers.”
Frustrated that yet again, adults think they know
more than kids just because they’re older, you say, “Fine,
you don’t have to believe me, just come out here and I’ll
show you,” and you reach out and grab the secretary’s
arm dragging her with you as you head back out into the
hall.
As you’re crossing the threshold, the secretary
begins to pull back and you instinctively grip tighter,
intent on bringing her with you no matter what, but then
the hall erupts with screams and she stops pulling against
you and follows you into the hall.
It takes longer than normal to make your way
through the mass of people who have gathered near the
entrance, most of whom seem in shock by what they just
saw. Several girls are crying and holding each other, while
many of the boys stare on with gaping mouths. At one
point, you pass two freshman boys who are talking, and
you hear one of them say, “I told you. They said he used
to wrestle bears in cage fighting matches before he
became a teacher. This proves it!”
Pushing past them, you spill out into the front of
the crowd, and see Mr. Tibbs breathing hard as he stands
over the old man who is now lying on the ground with his
neck twisted around so that his face stares up at the
ceiling while his chest rests on the floor. Looking up, Mr.
Tibbs sees you, the secretary, and the kids, and his eyes go
wide in in astonishment as if he can’t believe that he just
did this. That’s when Mr. Jameson, the school principal,
finally make it through the crowd. To the principal, Mr.
Tibbs says, “It was self-defense. He was biting my arm
and once I got behind him, I just pulled. I had no idea that
would…” but he trails off before finishing.
Raising his voice over the noise of the crowd, Mr.
Jameson yells, “Everyone, please head to your second
hour class. We will be calling the EMTs, and I want
everyone to stay in their classrooms so that they can do
their work.” When only a few people begin to head away
from the scene, Mr. Jameson raises his voice once more
and says, “Please, students, go to your classes,” and
swings his arms forward in an encouraging, move-along,
fashion which helps to get the students moving. Turning
to the secretary. Mr. Jameson says in a lower voice,
“Please go to the PA and announce that students are to be
accepted into their classrooms without being marked
tardy. Then we’ll call for a lockdown in five minutes once
they’re all in class.”
“Okay, Mr. Jameson. Do you want me to call 911
as well?” asks the secretary.
“No, I’ll do that,” says Mr. Jameson. Nodding, she
turns to leave, and Mr. Jameson addresses Mr. Tibbs
asking, “Are you all right? What happened?”
Shaking his head, Mr. Tibbs says, “Yeah, I think so,
but the guy just came in and started biting me,” and pulls
his sweater and longsleeve shirt up his arm to inspect the
wound.
As he does so, Mr. Jameson notices you standing
off to the side and says, “Hey, you. I told everyone to
head to class, now come on, get going.”
Startled by the principal’s words you turn to head
up the stairs, but not without taking one more quick look
back to Mr. Tibbs who holds up his arm for Mr. Jameson
to see. When he steps to the side, you spot the bloody
wound of the old man’s bite, and cuss under your breath
knowing if these are zombies, your favorite science
teacher is now on borrowed time.
Taking the stairs up, you make your way to history
class where you find everyone is talking over one another
as they try to tell the curious teacher, Miss Millstone,
what happened. Heading over to your desk, you hear the
PA system come on, and Miss Millstone quiets the whole
class simultaneously with her loud shrill voice as the
secretary says, “The school is now in lockdown. This is not
a drill, the school is in lockdown. Teachers please make
sure that your students remain in class, and we will let you
know when the lockdown is over.”
Heading to the door, Miss Millstone checks the
doorknob from the outside to make sure it’s locked, and
then after a quick look up and down the hall to see if
there are any straggling students, she swings the door
closed. Next, using hand gestures only, Miss Millstone
directs the class to remain quiet and to leave their seats to
go sit up against the back wall. All of the students quickly
and quietly abandon their books and things and begin to
head to the back wall where she’s pointing. The ones who
always sit in the back of her room are already taking seats
on the floor.

As the rest of the class gets up and begins walking
to the rear of the classroom, you stand up and approach
Miss Millstone. Stepping up next to the hefty woman, you
whisper, “Miss Millstone, I was there with Mr. Tibbs when
this happened. The old guy bit him.”

Not paying you much attention, Miss Millstone
says, “That’s what the others said. We’ll just stay up here
until we’re told the paramedics have dealt with things
downstairs. Now how about you go sit with the others.”

Frustrated, you blurt out, “But Miss Millstone, he
was a zombie.”
Unamused, she turns to face you raising an
eyebrow and says, “Whatever medications you’re on at
home, you might want increase the dosage, but for right
now go sit down and stop bothering me with this
nonsense.”
Feeling completely dejected, you go to the back of
the room to join the rest of your class. On the way,
however, you peek out the open window and see four
more old people walking over from the church across the
street, all of whom you think look like zombies. From
here there is no way to tell for sure, and there is no way
Miss Millstone is going to take your word for it. Taking
your spot amongst the crowd, you have a choice.

Unsure of who will believe you at this point, you
quickly find one of the guys you used to hang out with
back in middle school. Without any other options, you
decide to test the waters and see what the others know
before you let them in on any of your thoughts. Leaning
over you ask, “Hey, Jeff, you know what’s really going on
here?”

Looking over, Jeff’s face contorts for a second as if
he forgot that you were in this class with him, and he says,
“Oh, hey, I…uh…no. I heard Mr. Tibbs got attacked or
something downstairs, but I was coming up from the gym,
so I didn’t see anything.” Then looking around, he spots
the girl he’s looking for and says, “You should ask Sarah,
she said she was there.” Turning, Jeff whispers loudly,
“Hey, Sarah, what happened down there?”

“Well, I was downstairs coming from Mr. Parks’
geometry class, and a crowd was all around the front
door. My friend Jessica and I tried to squeeze our way in,
but that’s when the principal showed up and told
everyone to go to class. From what I heard, though, Mr.
Tibbs went ape on some old guy after the geezer bit him
or something.”

Inserting himself into the conversation, Ben says, “I
was in Mr. Tibbs’ room first hour. That guy is awesome.”
“Well, if you were there, what did you see?” asks
Jeff.
“Okay, so like, Mr. Tibbs went out to the hall like he
always does when the bell rings, and we all got our books
and stuff and started to head out, too. Anyway, some old
guy came up to the doors and started knocking. From
there, I’m not sure, I was in a hurry to get here on time,
but I heard he opened the door and the guy started trying
to eat him or something. Mr. Tibbs defended himself, and
…,” but the rest of Ben’s words are cut off by Miss
Millstone.
“Excuse me,” says Miss Millstone loudly from her
stool in the front of the room. “This is a lockdown. You all
shouldn’t be talking back there,” completely ignoring the
fact that for as much as they were having a whispered
conversation, if there was someone out there looking for
them, she just announced herself to at least half the
school.
Ducking down sheepishly, Ben says, “Sorry, Miss
Millstone,” before he leans back and rests his head
against the wall saying, “She has no idea what an ‘inside’
voice is.”
Realizing that none of them seem to know anything
substantial, you figure that they aren’t about to make the
connection you have that these old people are zombies,
and without anyone else around that actually saw them,
there’s no way any of them will believe you. Just then,
you hear a thud at the door.
Normally in a lockdown, no one is supposed to be
in the hall, so this is more than a little unusual. Standing
up from her stool, Miss Millstone walks over to the door
and waits. A moment after she gets close to it, there are
two more thumps on the door. To someone not listening
for it, it might sound like someone knocking, but you
could swear the thumps sound a little too squishy and a
little too wet, almost as if someone bumped into the door
with their face.