by E. Van Lowe
Principal Taft couldn't have been more pleased with himself. "Now, I'm thinking Mrs. Mars is a zombie, Sybil is a zombie, and you're still here. What is wrong with this picture?"
"If it's the last thing I do, I am going to stop you."
He ignored the threat. "Remember when I told you zombies love meat, hate fish? Well, you are covered with tender chunks of sirloin. That's what the can said: 'beef chili made with tender chunks of sirloin.' I bet you're irresistible to zombies now."
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A self-satisfied smile appeared on his lips. "I don't think you need to worry about a boyfriend anymore. I do believe you're about to have all the boyfriends you can handle."
In the distance, I could hear the sound of many footsteps moving in our direction. The footsteps weren't shuffling. Whoever was coming was running up the corridor. People, I thought. Living, breathing human beings were on their way.
As the footsteps got closer, echoing as they slapped against the tile floor, the triumphant expression on Taft's face slowly began to fade.
"You hear that?" I said, a hint of hope creeping into my voice. "Someone's coming to rescue me. Sybil must have called for help before she became a zombie."
Just then, six tall and athletic zombies came running around the corner, dressed in Salesian High track uniforms. They stopped when they saw us. There was yearning in their eyes.
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Chapter Thirty four
I recognized the six zombies standing before us. They were all members of the school's track team. Among them was Tyler Moss. Tyler was long and lanky, a top-notch sprinter who'd won several gold medals for the 100-meter dash. He was at one time the most feared sprinter in the state. Now, he was a ferocious-looking zombie.
Taft was smiling again. "I love yanking your chain," he said with a chuckle. "You should have seen the look on your face when you thought you were being rescued."
"Fast zombies," I said. There was no emotion attached to the words. It was an observation.
"Yes," Taft replied. He was gloating. "These kids have been running all their lives. They're my uberzombies. Margot, if it's any consolation, you really were my favorite."
"You can turn off the compliments, Principal Taft. I think when you're about to kill someone a compliment loses its charm."
He thought about this a moment. "I can see that. But you always wanted to feel special, right? Now you're about to get
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turned by uberzombies. That'll put you right at the top of the zombie social order."
The zombies began to moan. Their ravenous eyes crawled over us.
"Let's Hear It for the Boy," by Deniece Williams, pumped through the sound system.
"You can thank me later," Principal Taft continued. "The boys are getting hungry. It may take several hours for you to become a zombie, but don't worTy. You'll be joining your friend soon enough. Now, I've got to get home."
He began inching away from the zombies, who were now focused on me. Then he turned the corner and was gone. I could hear the click-click of his shoes as he hightailed it out of the building.
Slowly, the uberzombies advanced.
"I'm getting so sick of zombies coming after me," I whispered.
The zombies had fanned out into a circle around me, and were closing in. There would be no escape. There was no way I could outrun them.
"So, Tyler Moss, you are looking very buff these days. Been working out?"
His only response was the desire in his eyes.
"Did I ever tell you I had a big ole crush on you freshman year?"
Tyler's lips parted. "Mmmmmm."
"See, that! I thought you had a thing for me. Look, why don't we all go back inside, do the electric slide, and talk about this tomorrow?"
"Mmmmaaah!" Mrs. Mars cried, as she struggled against the ropes. The ropes were loosening. In a moment I'd have her to worry about as well.
It was then I noticed that the zombies stopped advancing
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when Mrs. Mars cried out. Quickly, I got behind her desk and shoved it forward a few inches. The zombies all backed off a few feet.
"Mrs. Mars, you're my ticket out of here."
I pushed her desk a few inches toward the zombies. They began backing down the hall.
"Mmmmaaah!" Mrs. Mars repeated as she continued to struggle.
"I know this isn't a moment we're going to look back on with pride, Mrs. Mars. But I want you to know 1 do possess the character you spoke of in the letter to my mother. You'll see."
I grabbed the top of her chair, tilted it backward, and began dragging her up the corridor away from the uberzombies.
"Don't you boys move!" I called, imitating her gravelly voice as I'd done earlier in the gym. "Or you'll be in my class next semester, same bat time, same bat channel."
The uberzombies were standing still, seemingly befuddled. Then my gaze moved ahead, up the corridor, in search of an escape route. The elevator was at the end of the corridor, but I needed a key to operate it.
"Do you have a key to the elevator on you, Mrs. Mars?"
Her answer was an angry growl.
I stopped dragging, moved back around in front of her, and began rifling through her pockets. I pulled out a large ring of about twenty keys.
"I sure hope one of these is what I'm looking for."
I resumed dragging her, now with purpose, toward the elevator at the end of the corridor. For their part, the uberzombies were beginning to overcome their fear. Cautiously, they again began advancing on us.
We reached the elevator, and systematically I began trying keys in the lock.
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"Grrrowl." Mrs. Mars' chest heaved upward, and the ropes around her went slack.
She was free.
It would be only moments before she realized it. I fumbled key after key into the lock.
Click. The key in my hand turned the tumblers. I pressed the call button. It lit up. In the distance I could hear the ancient elevator rumbhing to life.
Mrs. Mars stood, the ropes pooling around her ankles. The uberzombies again halted their advance.
"Good, Mrs. Mars. Just keep them at bay for a few more minutes."
The sound of the elevator stopping made my heart dance. Mrs. Mars turned to me.
"Hhhhhh.'' Her lips parted and she emitted a deep, airy sigh. Her gnarled fingers reached for me just as the elevator door opened. I scrambled into the elevator and mashed all the buttons. Nothing.
"Come on! Close door! Close!"
Mrs. Mars sluggishly began moving toward me. She slogged onto the elevator and again reached for me. I scurried into a corner. I thought about making a run for it, but the uberzombies were now standing at the elevator threshold, not willing to go any farther. I'd be walking into their open arms.
Bing!
The door slid shut. Clunk. Then the tiny chamber began to move upward. Mrs. Mars stepped toward me. I knew if I eased backward, in seconds I'd be trapped in a corner. So I darted toward her, and as she reached for me I dashed behind her. Now her back was to me.
She turned around as quickly as she could. But she was a zombie, and an old zombie at that, so her movements were
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sluggish. As she turned to her right, I moved to my left, keeping her back in front of me.
"Mrs. Mars, you really don't want to bite me. I'm going to be your prize student next semester. We just need to get past this moment in time."
She flung her arms behind herself, trying to grab me while her back was to me. I dodged her grasp.
"Graaagh!" she screamed in frustration. She jerked to her left, and I jumped to my right. She jerked to her right, and I jumped to my left.
"We're going to laugh about this one day," I called.
Several dodgy minutes later, the elevator door finally opened, and I blasted out, away from the clutches of Mrs. Mars.
I was running,. .fast. Fear is an amazing drug. It allows you to do things you never thought possible. Tonight I had run, used my stre
ngth, and even climbed the ropes--everything I needed to do for the state endurance exam. That's why I knew I'd be ready next semester. What I didn't want to think was... if There is a next semester.
"I Ran," by A Flock of Seagulls, began to play. I headed up the corridor as fast as my aching legs would allow. I took the stairs back down to the main-floor corridor, then barreled toward the main exit door. If I was going to save Sybil I needed to get some help.
I slammed into the door with a booming thud--CARUNCH! I bounced off the heavy door like a rubber ball. Quickly I re-covered and pressed on the metal bar to release the catch. The door crept open six inches, then stopped. Clunk. I put my back against the door, pushing with all my might. Clunk, clunk, clunk.
The door had been chained from the outside. Principal Taft was making sure I didn't get away this time.
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The uberzombies emerged from around the corner. I took off up the corridor.
Slap, slap, slap, slap. . .
The uberzombies' footsteps reverberated in the empty corridor behind me. And while they may not have been as fast as when they were human, the track zombies moved with amazing speed.
I ran from corridor to corridor trying all the exits. Every door had been locked and chained from the outside. With every futile step the zombies got closer.
A searing pain in my lungs. My achy legs slowed. 1 couldn't go much farther.
I have to make it to the boiler room. Maybe Baron and Milton are still among the living. Maybe the three of us could stand a chance against the zombies.
It was a feeble plan, but a plan nonetheless, and it gave me hope. With the hope came the burst of energy 1 desperately needed.
My lungs were on fire as I took the stairs to the basement. The uberzombies were close on my heels. There was only one staircase that led to the boiler room. It was clear across the building. A long way to run with uberzombies on your tail. I have to make it there, I told myself.
The zombies were closing fast.
"Run!" I called, urging myself on. If only I had done those practice runs around the track as Mrs. Mars had suggested.
Too late to think about that now.
The cafeteria was to my left. Without thinking, I crashed through the double swinging doors into darkness.
It was empty, chairs neatly folded atop tables And dark, lots of shadows to hide in. I ducked behind a table. If I caught my breath, maybe I could make a run for it.
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Two beams of fuzzy light shone through the windowpanes in the double doors. Phil Collins' "Against All Odds" played in the background.
There was a throbbing pain in my left ankle. I'd twisted it along the way. The ankle had a knot on it the size of an orange. Running would be even more difficult from here on in.
I needed to make a stand. How many zombies could I rap on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper before one grabbed me? That's something they never teach in math class.
Or maybe I could use the zombie death grip. I smiled as I thought of Baron teaching Sybil the grip the night we went to Dirk's house. I was so blinded by jealousy I couldn't see he was doing it to get my attention.
I like Baron,
There, I finally admitted it to myself. He wasn't the kind of boy I wanted to be associated with. He wasn't popular, or an athlete, or a member of any of the cliques Amanda and the it- girls would ever date. He was a geek who thought he was way cooler than he was But I liked him.
And I wasn't aiming low with Baron, as I had once believed. He was intelligent, caring, handsome, and he wasn't afraid to let his feelings show. Baron Chomsky was a real catch for a girl who wasn't bent on impressing those around her. If I ever saw him again, I was going to let him know If I ever saw him again.
Nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide.
The double doors swung open.
I peered around the table. Six shadowy zombies entered.
Sensing my presence, the uberzombies began searching. I dodged them, crawling from behind one table to another, from shadow to shadow, at times narrowly missing being seen. Eventually the zombies spread out, blanketing the room. They were forcing me toward the rear, where there would be no escape.
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Chapter Thirty - five
I continued ducking behind tables, narrowly escap-ing detection by the zombies, but time was running out. In a few moments there would be no tables left to duck behind.
Nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide.
I reached the wall. The zombies inched closer. It was time to make a stand.
I stood up.
"Over here," I called. I meant to say it loudly, bravely, but my quaking words were a near whisper.
"Mmmm." The zombie moan was a few feet away.
"Hhh!" I let out a tiny, involuntary gasp. The zombie six feet from me spun around. "Here I am," I said with a bit more conviction.
The uberzombie quickly closed the distance between us and corralled me with arms heavy like cement.
I punched him in the nose.
"Yeee!" he screamed, but he didn't let go. His grip was unrelenting.
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The rap on the nose didn't work on uberzombies, I guessed. "Way to go, Principal Tart," I said out loud. He had beaten me.
The uberzombie's mouth opened hungrily. His lips moved in, and his rancid breath drifted up my nostrils, attacking my senses. The end was near. This time for sure.
When I become a zombie. I'll find Sybil, and well roam the school together, best friends forever.
I consoled myself with the peace in that thought. The room began to spin as the zombie's saliva trickled down my shoulder Then his icy teeth touched my flesh.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something zipping across the room at a tremendous speed. It hit us with fierce intensity. I went sprawling to the floor, but the thing had latched onto the zombie, and they went airborne, traveling twenty feet through the air before crashing into a wall. They slid to the floor. The thing rose, standing over the zombie. It let out a ferocious wail. "Aiiiiiiiuii!"
The thing was Sybil. Her complexion was kelly green, her rage-filled eyes a crimson sea.
Slowly, the uberzombie got up. He was joined by the others. Sybil bared her zombie teeth as they surrounded her. Not once did she look in my direction, but I knew I had been right. Even as a zombie, she wouldn't attack me. Her sense memories were of an abiding friendship that would last forever.
As the uberzombies moved in, she crouched low, like a lioness ready to pounce. I didn't wait to see the fight. I understood what I needed to do. Sybil had saved me so that I could save her. I slipped out of the cafeteria. The attack was vicious--growls and screams, and the sound of ripping flesh.
I cried like a baby as I headed for the subbasement. Moving
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away from the ferocious battle, I thought of all the wonderful things Sybil had done for me over the years. But this took the cake. My throat ached as 1 sobbed out loud. I did not look back.
I pulled open the door leading to the subbasement The moment I did, I heard the most unwelcome sound. More zombies. Loud zombie moans and shrieks were coming from down the stairs. 1 peered down the darkened staircase. There must be hundreds of them down there, I thought. Then I remembered Sybil, and started down.
I reached the bottom. Before me lay a long, narrow corridor with deeply creviced walls. The corridor, lit only by a few low-wattage bulbs, was empty.
"Woooooeeeeeohh!" A zombie wailed from somewhere up ahead. My legs were shaking as I continued in the direction of the sound. There was a door at the end. The boiler room.
The sounds were getting louder.
"Where are they?" I whispered. It was as if the corridor was crawling with zombies, and yet I didn't see any.
"Ooooooooh!" I jumped. The sound was just above me. I looked up and spotted the ventilating duct vent. The zombie moans and cries were carrying from upstairs through the duct. There were no zombies here.
"Oh, my goodness," I whispered as I slumped again
st the wall. I let out a long, slow sigh of relief. I was safe ... for now.
I reached the door at the end of the corridor. A sign on the old metal door read:
BOILER ROOM
Custodial Staff Only!
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I held my breath, and pushed in.
The boiler room was as dimly lit as the corridor. As I entered, I was assailed by the dank and pungent odor of mold and mildew.
Baron and Milton were seated in folding chairs across the room in front of the huge metal boiler. They didn't see me at first, but as I stepped into the room, their heads lifted. Slowly, both boys rose. Baron's lips parted.
"Hello, beautiful."
I couldn't believe my ears.
"What are you doing here?" chimed Milton.
My eyes widened. "You're not zombies. You're not zombies!" I cried as my heart sang out with relief. I raced across the room, threw my arms around Milton, who was the closest to me, and hugged him.
"Get offa me!" he squawked. "Of course we're not zombies." He pushed me away.
"Is someone gonna hug me?" Baron asked.
I looked into his smiling eyes and threw my arms around him.
"That's what I'm talkin' about," he said, grinning. I thought I'd never see that smile again.
"What are you doing here?" Milton again.
"I came for the antidote. What are you doing here?"
Baron explained that when Principal Taft stumbled upon their lab, he was so happy to discover what they were doing, he officially enlisted them to create the new antidote. He brought them here, where they could work undetected.
"So, you're not prisoners?" I said.
"Course not. We're free as birds. We go home every night," said Milton.
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"And every day we work on the new antidote. It'll be ready in a few days," added Baron.
