Why I Quit Zombie School

by R. L. Stine

  “A blast?” I uttered. My voice cracked.

  “Take your hand and hold it onto the end of your arm,” Ernie instructed. “Then …”

  “Then?” I said. My voice cracked.

  “Then I’ll throw the switch,” Ernie said.

  25

  I stepped into the red light. It was hot inside the little room. The electric equipment buzzed and crackled.

  I gripped the chair back with my one good hand. “Owww.” The metal felt hot.

  “Sit down,” Ernie ordered. “What are you waiting for?”

  Well … I’d just like to take a few more breaths before you FRY me to a crisp.

  I started to lower myself onto the hot metal chair. But I stood straight up when I heard voices.

  Through the open door, I saw two of Ernie’s friends come running up to him.

  “Hey — here he is!”

  “Ernie — what are you doing here?”

  “We’ve been looking all over for you. Come on, dude. Come back to the party.”

  “Hurry. The Stomp Contest is starting. We need you, dude.”

  Ernie tried to explain to them what was happening. But they didn’t give him a chance. They pulled him away, back toward the gym.

  I stood there holding my breath till I heard the gym doors close behind them. Then I ran out of the Reviver Room.

  I slammed the door behind me. I blinked in the bright light.

  I couldn’t help myself. I lost it. I did a happy dance. “I’m alive! I’m alive! ALIVE!”

  I stopped in middance. I suddenly realized the words I was shouting could get me killed.

  I glanced up and down the hall. No one there. I could hear the pounding drumbeats of the music in the gym.

  I realized my hand was still tucked into my shirtsleeve. I pushed it out and moved the fingers to get the blood flowing.

  Tomorrow, I’ll tell Ernie I threw the switch myself, I decided. I’ll tell him it worked perfectly, and my hand is back.

  I decided not to return to the party. I wanted to go up to my room and celebrate my good luck.

  The kids all thought I was undead now. I had passed the test. I could relax now. No more suspicious stares. No kids following me around, watching my every move.

  The rubber hand was a stroke of genius.

  “I’m a genius!” I told myself. “A genius!”

  “Hey — what are you so happy about?” a voice behind me boomed. I spun around. Angelo.

  How long has he been standing there?

  How much has he heard?

  26

  I raised my right hand and wiggled the fingers. Then I pointed to the Reviver Room.

  “All fixed,” I said.

  Angelo grabbed my wrist and studied the hand. He turned it over and rubbed his fingers along the skin.

  “Wow. Perfect,” he said. “You’d never know it fell off.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I got lucky,” I said.

  “Hey, your hand is warm,” he said. He eyed me suspiciously.

  “From the high voltage,” I said.

  He nodded. “You going back to the party?”

  “No,” I said. “All that electricity kind of wiped me out.”

  “Catch you at practice,” Angelo said. He waved good-bye and headed back to the gym.

  I couldn’t keep a grin from spreading over my face. “Matt, you’re definitely a genius!” I told myself.

  Guess how long I stayed a genius.

  The next morning, I woke up with another brilliant idea.

  Since the day I arrived at Romero, I noticed something strange and a little creepy about the kids. Most of the undead kids had a pale blue tint to their skin.

  I had proved to them at the dance that I was a zombie, too. But I still needed to do every thing I could to keep them from guessing the truth about me.

  That meant I should have pale blue skin, too.

  No problem. I took out my horror-makeup kit. And I very carefully dabbed a blue tint over my face, my neck, and my arms and hands.

  When I finished, I checked myself out in the mirror. Yes. The color was perfect. Just a hint of blue.

  I got dressed and hurried down the hall. I wanted to show off my skin to Franny. I knew she’d agree that Matt the Genius had struck again.

  But she wasn’t in her room. She had already gone to breakfast.

  I walked through the crowded halls with confidence. No one turned to stare at me. No one followed me, hoping to prove I was alive.

  I was accepted. I was one of them.

  Everything went perfectly — until gym class.

  27

  “We’re going to run track indoors today,” Coach Meadows announced. He blew his whistle. His whole body appeared to deflate every time he blew it.

  He had us run laps around the gym. I ran between Angelo and another guy from the soccer team named Steven.

  You couldn’t really call it running. It was more like stumbling and staggering. Angelo was talking about a soccer match the Vultures were playing against a team called the Spotted Owls.

  “Why would anyone name a team that?” Angelo demanded. “What kind of name is Spotted Owls?”

  Steven agreed.

  “Maybe they don’t give a hoot,” I joked. I thought it was pretty funny. But neither one of them laughed. I was beginning to catch on that zombies didn’t laugh very much.

  We ran another lap. Kids trotted slowly, lurching and stumbling. One boy staggered right into the gym wall and then fell flat on his butt. No one seemed to notice.

  It felt good to run, even slowly. We didn’t get much exercise at this school. I think that’s because the undead kids were afraid of body parts falling off.

  I let Angelo and Steven run ahead. I wanted a little freedom. A few moments to stretch my muscles and move by myself.

  Halfway around the gym again, I thought I saw some kids watching me.

  I scolded myself. Matt, don’t start imagining things. You’ve got them all fooled — remember?

  But I wasn’t imagining it. I passed the locker room door and kept trotting. Some boys moved forward to trot right behind me.

  I saw others turn and stare.

  What was up with that? Just about everyone was staring hard at me now as we all lapped the gym.

  My heart started to race. I knew something was wrong. But what could it be?

  As I came around again, I grabbed the handle to the locker room door. I pulled the door open and hurried inside.

  The air was hot and steamy in the narrow locker room. Someone had left a shower running.

  I hurried up to the mirror. I saw kids coming up behind me. What had I done wrong? Why were they chasing after me?

  Frantically, I rubbed the mist off the mirror with my hand. I stared into the glass.

  I knew instantly that I’d made two mistakes.

  The first mistake: I was sweating. Zombies do not sweat.

  Mistake number two: The blue makeup. My sweat made the blue makeup run. And it had run onto my white gym T-shirt.

  A deep blue stain ran around the collar of the shirt.

  I spun around. A large gang of boys had jammed the locker room. Most of them were staring at the sweat pouring down my face and the ring of blue on my shirt.

  “Uh … this isn’t what it looks like,” I said. “I mean … I was testing something … for Halloween. I mean …”

  My explanation was not going over.

  A huge mountain of a kid grabbed the front of my shirt. He rubbed a hand on my sweaty cheeks. And the blue makeup came off on his fingers.

  “Uh-oh,” he said softly. “Uh-oh. Uh-oh.”

  28

  He pulled my T-shirt tighter. And then he blinked a few times, startled. “Hey — this dude has a heartbeat!” he boomed. “I can hear it. A heartbeat!”

  Uh-oh.

  No way to talk my way out of this one.

  Their angry cries rang out through the steamy air.

  I ducked my head and took off. I darted right between the
big guy’s legs.

  Hands grabbed for me. Guys stumbled toward me.

  But I ran right through them. That was the one advantage of being alive. I was faster than them.

  I rocketed to the locker room door. Shoved it open with both hands and ran full speed into the gym.

  A few kids were still trotting around the floor. Coach Meadows looked up. He opened his mouth to call to me. But I was already out of there.

  I hurtled out the back door. The afternoon sun was low in the sky. Shielding my eyes, I ran toward the playing fields.

  Where was I headed? I didn’t know. I only knew I had to get away from these guys.

  Glancing back, I saw eight or ten of them come bursting out the back door. They weren’t going to give up. They knew they had a living kid in school.

  And they didn’t want me to stay alive for long.

  My sneakers slid on the smooth grass. I ran across the soccer field.

  Behind me, they grunted and groaned as they forced their dead legs forward.

  I had a good head start. And I could run a lot faster.

  But they didn’t give up. They just kept coming. Waving their arms in front of them as if ready to grab me at any moment.

  I was breathing hard. But my legs felt strong. I knew I could outrun them.

  I was nearly across the soccer field when I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head.

  I was hit. A soccer ball hit me in the back of the head. I stumbled forward.

  Fell hard.

  I was down. Down on the grass.

  Caught. The zombies had me.

  Their ugly grunts and groans grew louder as they staggered toward me.

  I raised my head, stunned. Pain rolled down my body. The back of my head throbbed.

  “Ohhhh.” A low moan escaped my throat as I spread both hands on the grass.

  I gave a hard push and forced myself to stand.

  Behind me, I glimpsed a zombie kid fall and start to roll toward me. Another guy tripped over him and went down. But several others kept coming, hands outstretched to grab me.

  I took a deep breath. I shook off my dizziness and took off again.

  But I didn’t have far to run.

  At the back of the soccer field, I ran right up to the tall black fence. It rose like a wall, high above my head. I glanced from side to side. The fence seemed to stretch forever.

  A cry of panic escaped my throat. The groaning zombies moved closer. They had me trapped against the fence.

  I turned and started to run full speed. I searched for a door … a gate … an opening … a crack. Anything I could slip through.

  Nothing. No way through.

  Behind me, I saw a zombie kid stumble and fall. Two kids fell on top of him. The others stopped to help them to their feet.

  I spotted a big, square rock poking up from the grass. Catching my balance, I gazed at it for a moment.

  Then, I didn’t think. I just moved.

  I took a few steps back. Came running at the rock. Took a long leap onto it. Hoisted my hands high over my head. And flew up to the top of the fence.

  I wrapped both hands over the top — and swung myself up.

  “Whooooa!” I uttered a long cry as I sailed over the top of the fence and dropped onto the dirt on the other side.

  “Oooof.” I landed hard on my back. The collision with the ground knocked the wind from my lungs.

  I lay there choking and gasping. I could hear the low groans and muttering from the zombie kids on the other side of the fence.

  Did they see me hurtle over the fence?

  I was still on my back. I stared up to the top of the fence. I expected to see them follow me over it.

  But I heard their clumsy footsteps move along the high fence. Their shouts and groans faded. They hadn’t seen me. They kept running.

  With a sigh of relief, I stood up. My legs felt shaky. I steadied myself.

  I brushed dirt off the front of my clothes and glanced around.

  To my surprise, I was standing in a graveyard.

  Rows and rows of low gravestones poked up from the flat dirt. The stones were white and looked pretty new.

  The graveyard was completely walled in. The fence rose high above me, and I didn’t see a door or a gate anywhere.

  I was totally boxed in. Yes, I was safe from the zombie kids on the other side. But the sun was going down. Soon, it would be dark.

  I didn’t want to be trapped in this graveyard in the dark. No way.

  I listened hard. The voices on the other side had vanished. Had the zombie kids given up and gone back to the school?

  A sudden wind blew through the graveyard, making some of the stones creak. I turned and started to walk between the first two rows of graves.

  “Whoa.” I stopped about three graves in. Stopped and stared at the name on the tombstone.

  Way ne. Angelo’s brother.

  And the next stone? It was Angelo’s.

  The twins were buried here. Did that mean all of the zombie Romero kids had their gravestones in this cemetery?

  Yes. On the end of the row, I saw Ernie’s grave. And a few stones down the stone was engraved for Angelo’s friend Mikey.

  Each name sent a chill down my back.

  The kids were all buried here. But of course most of the graves were empty. Because the kids were undead. Because they had climbed up from their graves and … and …

  I read the name on the next grave and gasped in shock. I froze. My eyes bulged. I had to read the name a second time.

  “Oh, noooooo,” I moaned. “I … don’t … believe … it.”

  29

  Franny’s tombstone.

  I was staring at Franny’s tombstone.

  “She lied to me,” I murmured.

  Franny was a zombie, too. She told me she was alive. She said the two of us were the only living kids at Romero.

  Why did she lie?

  My mind began to spin. All the things she said to me flashed back into my brain.

  She lied. She lied. She lied.

  Franny only pretended to be my friend. She only pretended that she wanted to help me.

  Why? Because she was watching me the whole time. Spying on me.

  That had to be the truth. She pretended to be my friend so she could spy on me for the other zombie kids.

  I suddenly felt like a total jerk.

  I believed her. I trusted her. I really liked her.

  She was lying the whole time.

  And now here I was, trapped in this graveyard. Staring at the tombstones of all the kids in the school. Kids who didn’t want me to stay alive.

  I spun away from Franny’s grave. I began walking along the fence. I searched for a way out. And I listened for the zombie kids to return.

  But it was silent on the other side. I remembered Franny saying no one ever wanted to come back here because it was so sad and depressing.

  She was right.

  I made a complete survey of the high fence. No door. No exit of any kind.

  I sat down and leaned my back against the fence. I watched the sun slowly drop. Long shadows fell over the graveyard. Then … total darkness.

  I shivered. The wind was cold and sharp. I hugged my knees and waited.

  How long would I be here? Forever?

  My stomach growled. I suddenly realized I was starving. In the dark, the tombstones looked like big teeth poking up from the ground.

  How late was it? I couldn’t tell. The moon was hidden by heavy clouds.

  I jumped when I heard a sound nearby. At the fence. A soft thump.

  Then a scraping sound. Another soft thump.

  I climbed to my feet and turned toward the sound.

  In the gray light, I saw something move on the fence. I couldn’t tell what it was. I walked closer. Slowly. Carefully.

  It slithered and bumped at the wood planks. I stopped, squinting hard at it.

  At first I thought it was a snake. Then I saw two of them.

  Two long snakes stre
tching down the wall?

  I took a step closer. Then another. No. Not snakes. A rope ladder.

  Someone had tossed a rope ladder over the fence. I walked up to it.

  “Who’s there?” I called.

  Silence.

  “Who’s there?” I repeated. The gusting wind muffled my voice. “Who’s there? Who flung this rope ladder down?”

  No answer.

  I tightened my hands around the sides of the ladder. The rope felt rough against my palms.

  I hoisted myself up onto the lowest rung.

  “Who’s there?” I tried again.

  No answer.

  Was it a trap?

  I had no choice. I couldn’t hide in this graveyard forever. I had to take a chance.

  I slid my hands higher and pulled myself to the top.

  30

  I stared down at Franny, who was holding the other end of the rope ladder.

  “Hurry,” she whispered. She glanced behind her toward the school. “I guessed where you were hiding. But someone might have followed me.”

  I scrambled down the ladder. I was happy to be on the other side, out of the graveyard.

  I wiped my hands on my shirt. Then I turned to Franny.

  The moon floated out from behind the clouds. Moonlight washed over her pale face.

  “You lied to me,” I said. “You’re one of them.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I know,” she replied in a whisper.

  “Why?” I asked.

  Clouds made her face darken again. She flickered in and out of shadows, like a ghost.

  “I had to,” she said. “They made me.”

  She tugged the rope ladder off the wall. She folded it carefully between her hands. Then she tossed it to the ground by the fence.

  “It’s not safe here,” she said. She glanced to the school again.

  “Tell me the truth,” I insisted. “What do you mean they made you?”

  She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “They said I had to spy on you. They need to know about every new kid. Just to make sure a live one doesn’t come here by mistake. So … it was my turn to spy on the new kid. You.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “Why did you help me? If you were spying on me, why did you help me fool them?”