Dawn of the Zombie Apocalypse

by Murray, Lee

  “I bet she’s setting us a test,” Darren moaned. He sighed. Sometimes my best mate could be a bit of a drama queen.

  Talia stood up. “Someone should go to the school office and let the principal know that Mrs Pike hasn’t turned up,” she said.

  Darren rolled his eyes. Talia had gone to the same primary school as us, and every other week our teacher would award her with a certificate for Politeness, or Diligence, or Being Responsible, or having the Best Science Project. If there’d been a certificate for Withering Looks That Made You Feel like a Worm, then she would’ve won that one, too.

  And the one for Prettiest Girl in School.

  “Well?” Talia said. “Anyone?” She scanned the class. No one met her eye. She sighed heavily and stalked into the corridor, her ponytail sweeping out behind her. Everyone went back to launching spit balls. Talia returned a few minutes later, looking puzzled. “There’s no one in the school office,” she announced.

  “No teachers? That’s strange. Maybe there’s a staff meeting?” said Talia’s friend, Penny.

  Talia shook her head. “I looked in the staff room. There was no one in there either.”

  “Maybe there was a fire drill and we didn’t hear the siren,” said Darren. We hurried to the window to check, but there were no classes lined up at the assembly area.

  “Doesn’t look like it,” said Andrew.

  “Could it be a Teacher-Only day?” Penny said.

  “If it was, the school would’ve sent a notice home,” Talia replied. “And Teacher-Only day means the day the teachers come. And the students don’t.”

  “Hang on,” said Darren. He slipped into the corridor. Less than a minute later, he was back. “Mr Huffington isn’t in Room 12 either.”

  “That’s really weird. No teachers. There must be some kind of emergency going on. An earthquake or flooding or something?” Talia said.

  “Oh no!” Penny brought her hands to her face.

  “Emergency updates are listed on the school portal. I’ll check,” I said, pulling my tablet from my bag.

  “You’re not supposed to log on to your computer unless it’s for a lesson,” Talia said, her lips pursed.

  “I’m checking to see if there is a lesson,” I said, tapping. But there was nothing on the school portal. As far as the school was concerned, it was a normal day.

  Only, there were no teachers.

  “Cool.” Andrew twirled his basketball on his finger. “No teacher. I’m going to shoot some baskets in the quad.”

  Most of the class followed him out, Talia watching with her hands on her hips. Afterwards, she sat down and got out her maths book. Seems she was looking to get the certificate for Doing Unnecessary Math Equations, too.

  Penny looked at the door, then back at Talia. Sighing, she sat down.

  I was gathering up my stuff to join the others outside, when Darren nudged me. “Zombie Apocalypse,” he said. “Maybe we could have a quick look?”

  It took me less than a second to decide. Mrs Pike was three quarters of an hour late. She could hardly give us litter duty. Pulling my tablet out, I logged on, and showed Darren the preview: the revolting hand exploding from the screen, zombies shuffling and lurching through the streets, and Bastion Axestone winking at us both.

  “Awesome,” Darren breathed, clearly as impressed as I’d been.

  I felt a bit stink. The game had been free yesterday. I should’ve called Darren and told him about it when I had the chance. Now I had the game and my best friend didn’t. I couldn’t make him a copy either. Chaos software came with copy protection.

  That’s when an icon popped up in the top right corner of my screen, so tiny I almost missed it—an upward arrow with lettering underneath. I squinted at the screen. Upload.

  The icon flickered and an idea hit me. I logged off and logged on again, this time using my school username. Then, I uploaded Dawn of the Zombie Apocalypse to the school portal. I grabbed Darren’s laptop.

  “What are you doing?” Darren said, reaching for it, but I twisted away from him, the laptop on my knees.

  “Nothing. Just trying something,” I said. “Is your password still DeBaron12?” I didn’t wait for his answer. Apart from his age, which he tacked on the end, his password hadn’t changed since primary school. “The school portal is designed to share information with students, right?”

  “Yes…”

  “I might not be able copy the game for you, but maybe I can share with you.”

  “But Seb…” Darren said warily, “are you sure we should be doing that?”

  “No one will know,” I said.

  “You’d better hope they don’t find out,” came Talia’s voice. I’d forgotten she was there.

  “It’s okay, I’ll delete it in a sec,” I replied, handing Darren back his laptop. “Just as soon as Darren has a copy.”

  “Hang on,” Darren said, his face puzzled. “I’ve just got a message box. It says the file The Dawn of the Zombie Apocalypse already exists. Do you want to replace? You must have invited me to the game last night, Seb. I don’t need to download it, after all.”

  That’s odd. I didn’t remember specifically inviting Darren, but I couldn’t tell him that.

  “High five, man,” Darren said, beaming. We bumped palms.

  Talia, however, was not beaming. Her stare drilled through my eyeballs and into my brain. “If I were you, I’d delete that game from the school system, right now, Sebastion Mackay,” she said. “If the principal finds out, you’ll be expelled.” Beside her, Penny nodded vigorously.

  “Okay, okay, I’m deleting it now.”

  I picked up my tablet and pressed delete to erase the game from the school site. Nothing happened. I mustn’t have clicked properly. I touched the delete key, harder this time. Still nothing. Something was wrong. I couldn’t delete the game. The system wasn’t letting me.

  “Seb,” Talia warned.

  “It’s gone. I’ve done it,” I lied, logging off and deliberately slipping my tablet back in its neoprene sheath. I’d have to delete the game from the school site later, when Talia wasn’t breathing down my neck.

  Darren’s eyes were fixed on his laptop. I gave him a quick shove. “Let’s get out of here,” I said.

  “But Seb, the game—”

  I cut him off before he could say any more. “The basketball game, yeah. Don’t want to be a couple of benchwarmers, do we?”

  He was still fumbling with his laptop as I hustled him outside.

  The teachers were still missing in action, and three hours is enough basketball for anyone, so after lunch everyone went home.

  Cody bounded over to greet me when I opened the door. I kneeled, expecting him to turn over for a belly rub, but instead he rushed past me and out into the yard.

  Dad was busy watching something on his tablet. Ava, though, was pleased to see me. In her highchair, she raised her chubby arms in the air—a Mexican wave of one. Her face, smeared with butter and Marmite, was streaked with tears.

  “Up, up. Ava get down,” she pleaded.

  I lifted her out of the highchair. It took some doing and some grizzling from Ava because her legs had stuck to the chair’s plastic covering, but eventually I managed to prise her out. Ava threw her arms around my neck. I gave her a bit of a cuddle. Euw, she ponged! Her Pull-Up was like an over-inflated water bomb. It was so full it could blow at any second.

  Had she been in her highchair all morning?

  With Ava wrapped around me like a baby spider monkey, I turned to Dad. He was watching television on his tablet, his morning coffee stone cold beside him. Since I’d arrived home, he hadn’t moved and he hadn’t said anything either. Not even, “How was your day, Seb?” or “Don’t dump your bag on the floor. Put it where I can’t trip over it.” His face was covered in stubble and, like Ava, he was still in his pyjamas. Come to think
of it, he was exactly like he was when I’d left this morning.

  “Dad? Are you okay?”

  He didn’t reply, entranced by whatever was on his screen.

  Maybe an unthinkable world catastrophe was unfolding somewhere, like the earthquake in Nepal. Still holding Ava, I checked his screen. It was just the regular news, an article about the cricket test.

  “Dad?”

  Dad didn’t look up. I waved a hand in front of his face. “Seb? You’d better hurry, or you’ll be late for school,” he said.

  Late for school? It was after lunch.

  Ava shook her head. She pointed her index finger at Dad. “Daddy’s sleeping,” she said.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ava was right. Dad needed a nap. He was showing signs of being sleep-deprived, something Dad says happens when you have small children. Mum had it just after Ava was born. Half the time she was cranky, or dozy, and the rest of the time, she forgot stuff. Important stuff like attending school interviews and paying the garden contractor. I gave Dad a nudge and encouraged him to go up to his room to have a quick nap, but I couldn’t get him to move from the table. It was as if he was a flagpole, cemented in place. He stared at the screen with hollow haunted eyes. Something was definitely up. I was going to have to look after Ava until Mum came home.

  Even though it wasn’t my job to change her, I took Ava to her room and set her down on the floor while I rummaged in a drawer for a clean Pull-Up. I found one with a pink and blue Disney Sleeping Beauty on the front. But when I turned back to Ava, my little sister had stepped out of her soggy nappy and was dashing down the hall, giggling. I caught a glimpse of her bare bottom as she skedaddled into Jason’s room.

  Oh no. I had to get her out of there. Jason would have a hissy-fit if he found out Ava had been in his room. There was no telling what he would do if she touched his things—medieval torture sprung to mind.

  “Ava,” I called. “Come on, out of there.” I looked around the door frame. Ava was jumping on the bed.

  “Jump-ing, jump-ing,” she said when she saw me. It was understandable. I’d jump for joy too, if I’d been squeezed into a high chair all morning.

  “Ava, let’s get your pants on,” I said, dangling the Pull-Up in the air.

  “No pants,” Ava said, jumping even harder. A couple of bounces and she’d moved to the other side of the bed and out of reach. Jason’s pillow fell on the floor.

  This could be a problem. Ava didn’t always cooperate at changing time. Sometimes, she’d clamp her hands to her sides like a toy soldier and refuse to be dressed. Dad called it her screaming-iron-girder trick. I needed to play this carefully or I could end up chasing her around the house for hours.

  “No pants, huh? Well, if you’re going to be a rudey-nudey, I should turn the bath water on…” I said.

  “Pants on,” said Ava quickly. She stopped jumping and slipped tummy-side-down off the bed. With her hand on my shoulder for balance, she stepped into the Pull-Up.

  I took Ava to the kitchen and gave her a cracker and some cheese. The kitchen clock said three thirty. Still hours until Mum came home. I didn’t know how Dad looked after Ava every day. Just a couple of hours on the job and I was already exhausted. Maybe that’s why Dad had stayed in his pyjamas today. Could this be a strike? Maybe he was refusing to work until his demands were met. No, he wouldn’t deliberately ignore Ava. It had to be something bigger.

  The doorbell rang. I couldn’t leave Ava.

  “Visitor, Ava,” I said. She ran to the front door ahead of me, tiptoeing and stretching her fingers to the limit trying to reach the handle.

  “Me, me,” she said.

  I opened the door.

  It was Darren. His face was red, and he was puffing. He must have biked here because his hair was plastered to his head where he’d taken off his bike helmet.

  “Hey,” I said, but already he was pushing his way into the house.

  “Everything’s wrong,” Darren said, his eyes wild. “I think it could be the beginning of the apocalypse.”

  Ava was climbing down the front step, about to make an escape onto the street. I pulled her back by her t-shirt and closed the door while Darren caught his breath.

  “Well, maybe not the apocalypse, but something,” Darren went on. “First, no teachers, which was weird. Then, Mr Davies didn’t turn up to coach football practice. He didn’t come, Seb! That never happens. We played for twenty minutes, until J.D. took his ball, then we called it a day. But when I got home, Mum was sitting on the couch checking her social media. And not just now and again. She was checking her phone for updates every minute. Sometimes after less than a minute. And she hardly spoke to me.”

  Now I knew he was serious. Darren’s mother not speaking? Mrs Howard never stopped talking. Words sped out of her like kids from a waterslide. Whenever I went over there, she was all, ‘How was your day, boys? Anything interesting happen in school? Any teachers I need to have a word with? Would you like a slice of cake? How about a biscuit?’

  Darren shook his head wearily. “I don’t know what to do, Seb. She just ignored me.”

  Nodding, I stepped aside so Darren could see Dad at the kitchen table. It wasn’t a pretty picture. Dad’s skin was as grey as day-old Weet-bix. His eyelids were drooping, and his dressing gown hung from his shoulders. He looked pathetic.

  Darren gave a low whistle. “Your dad, too? What are we going to do?”

  “It’s okay. Mum’ll be home soon. She’ll know how to handle it.”

  Darren didn’t look convinced. “It’s all right for you. You have your mum and Jason. I don’t have anyone else. There’s just Mum and me.”

  I’d forgotten Jason. I checked the kitchen clock again. Where was he anyway? He was usually home by now.

  All of a sudden, Darren broke into a grin.

  “What?”

  “Jason. When I came up the driveway, I saw a light in the garage.”

  I felt a wave of relief. My brother was home. If anyone knew what was going on, he would. I picked up Ava and the three of us dashed outside and across the yard to the garage. Ava giggled at being jostled and jolted, but there was nothing funny about it. It was like trying to run while juggling a cabbage.

  I had to put her down on the driveway while I yanked up the roller door. The door was a bit sticky at knee height, so Darren got his fingers under it and together we heaved it up. Ava raised her arms too—although by that time the door was already over her head. I made a grab for her hand before she got any ideas about running off.

  We peered inside.

  Jason was sitting at the back of the garage, silent in the gloom. Wearing the same clothes as last night, he was hunkered over his desk with his headphones on. The eerie glow from his laptop lit his face.

  “Jase?” I said.

  My brother took a swig from a bottle of neon yellow energy drink. His eyes didn’t stray from his screen.

  “He can’t hear you,” Darren said, cupping his hands over his ears. “Headphones.”

  Slipping her hand out of mine, Ava copied Darren, only instead of cupping her palms to her ears, she jammed the heel of her hands in, her fingers outstretched the way Mum did when Jason and the Argonauts were making a racket. She screwed up her face. It was cute, but it didn’t stop the hair on the back of my neck prickling. So Jason hadn’t heard me. Hardly surprising with his headphones on, sound blasting in his ears, but why hadn’t he noticed the daylight spilling in when we raised the roller door?

  I held Ava’s hand, and we crept forward. My neck tingled—it was as if an entire flea circus was practising somersaults back there. This was Jason, my brother. I’d known him all my life, and as brothers go, he was a pretty good one—providing I didn’t mess with his stuff—but right now I couldn’t be sure what he would do.

  I reached out and touched him gently on the shoulder.

 
Jason jumped, and I gave a little jump myself. He took his headphones off and hung them around his neck. For a second, I thought I could hear the beat pumping from them, but my heart was pounding pretty hard, so I couldn’t be sure.

  Jason turned to face me, his movements slow and stiff as if he could do with a good stretch. “Yeah?”

  Those circus fleas were killing me. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Lost track of time, I guess. Tell Mum I’ll head up to bed in a tick. I just want to sharpen the bass on this track…” He turned his attention back to the screen and slipped his headphones back on. It was as if we weren’t even there.

  My mouth went dry. Jason had been in the garage all night and half the day working on his computer. He was behaving just like Dad.

  “Jason!” I shouted. I swivelled his chair and yanked his headphones down.

  “What?”

  I put my hands on his shoulders and shook him hard. “Come on! Dad’s acting really strange. I need your help!” My chest heaving, I stared into his eyes.

  But Jason pushed me off, twisting out of my grip. Putting his headphones on, he turned back to the screen. “Yeah, I said I’ll be a minute. Just let me finish this,” he said. He went back to his tapping.

  I looked at Darren and shook my head. We backed out of the garage and pulled down the roller door.

  “Ta-ta, Jason!” Ava said, bending over to wave as the gap got smaller and smaller.

  We stood on the driveway in the sun. There was no one about. Darren wiped his face in his hands. “What did I tell you? It’s the apocalypse.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s not the end of the world. It can’t be. Things are a bit weird, that’s all.”

  I marched the pair of them inside, one hand grasping Darren’s elbow and the other on the top of Ava’s head. Twisting free of my grip, Darren flopped on the sofa. “Well, what is it then? Your dad, my mum, Jason. They’re all acting like somnambulists.”

  “Like what?”