Girl Z: My Life As A Teenage Zombie

by Verstraete, CA

  We found my locker. My back to the hall, I pretended to fiddle with the lock as a couple other guys passed and stared at us. “Carm, this is harder than I thought. I don’t know if I can do it.”

  I zoned in on a spot across the hall as one of the geeky guys who used to sit behind me in chemistry wheeled around and stared, his face a stomach-turning road map of acne and Z scars. Ugh. I tried not to gag. The Z virus had only made things worse for him.

  Carm whispered while she fiddled with her locker. “Bec, don’t worry. Things’ll get better. It won’t be bad. Honest.”

  I shook my head, feeling even worse when I saw Jimmy Churlin stagger down the hall, heading our way. Holy cow, the virus seemed to have done a number on the guys around here. Jimmy made one ugly being, all drool, and even fewer manners than before.

  Grimacing, I watched him make a rude comment to one of the girls who sashayed by, hips wiggling in an attention-getting tight skirt. I’d have thought the virus would have toned down some of his less desirable traits. Day by day, I’d noticed most of my deadened senses had returned even though they stayed at more muted levels. Like I could taste food again (sometimes), but it usually didn’t taste like it once did (or stay with me) for long.

  Sure I had the wandering eye problem and tripped over my own feet, but so far, most of my problems were somewhat tolerable, considering everything. Not so for most male Zs, I saw. Carm and I exchanged horrified glances as we watched the rude, obnoxious way several of them acted, hoping it was a rare occurrence. Hardly.

  The main thing on most teenage Z’s brains (the little they had left, of course) these days was food, followed by sex, a horrific combination.

  The virus amplified the endless eating cycle teenage boys usually had. Even with all the protein drinks, I watched several stagger down the hall slobbering over packages of raw meat when they weren’t slobbering over girls. Ugh. I wanted to laugh, and would’ve, if it wasn’t so revolting.

  “You’d think they would’ve put those guys by themselves,” I whispered to Carm.

  She glanced down the hall and nodded. “I know, they’re so gross. Maybe Principal Thomas got scared he’d be sued?”

  I shrugged. “There’re more parents with non-infected kids. If he’s watching, and I bet he is, once he sees what’s going on he’ll have the guys reorganized this afternoon. I don’t know how that’ll affect the few girls I’ve seen like me.”

  “All right, get moving,” a security guard ordered several guy Zs. “You there, let’s go.”

  Another guard moved in and hurried the other Z boys along toward the end of the hall. A teacher peeked out from behind one of the doors, grimaced, and seeing me watching, gave a hateful glare before she ducked back into her room.

  Wow. Whatever plans had been developed so far to address the new school makeup weren’t working so well. Carm pointed out several colored spots. “See, there’re Z food stations marked on the map.” She paused. “Hmm, there’s one in the main hall, the rest are down the other hall.”

  I’d barely had time to dwell on this development when a voice called my name. I turned and groaned as Jimmy C. shuffled in our direction. Bad enough he kept texting me ever since we’d worked on that class science project together. Ignoring him hadn’t worked. “Hey, Becca baby, looks like you and me got somethin’ in common after all,” he yelled.

  As he zigzagged toward me, I watched the students in his path jump to either side with a curse or run in the other direction. Others gagged and threw their hands over their mouths. I thought the reactions rather exaggerated until he moved in on me.

  Even I had trouble breathing and stumbled backwards at the horrid stench of rotten eggs and spoiled meat wafting my way. Several long gashes on his arms, and probably elsewhere, explained the smell.

  I kept my distance and urged Carm to hurry. As Jimmy edged closer, a litany of curses and lewd comments on his crooked lips, I finally had had enough. I threw my extra papers and stuff in the locker, slammed the door, and spun the lock.

  “You know what, Jimmy? Bite me. Go bother somebody else.”

  Oops. Too late, I realized my mistake. Jimmy gave a weird, strange leer and crept nearer. “Be glad to,” he mumbled.

  Lucky for me, he was so slow and clumsy I managed to get out of his way before he came too close—a disgusting thought pre-Z and ten times worse now.

  I grabbed Carm, pulled her out of the way, and began to trot away—well, Carm trotted, I did a clumsy shuffle-step gait—down the hall.

  We stopped and glanced back at the chaos and screams behind us when Jimmy cornered another girl and her boyfriend stepped in. A minute later, a big, burly security guard moved in and pulled Jimmy, kicking and yelling, down the one hall, taking him to wherever kids like us went who didn’t behave or who acted up.

  I’d discounted the whispering I’d heard earlier while I waited for my aunt in the principal’s office, chalking it up to everybody being on edge. Now I wasn’t so sure. The bad vibes I’d felt were one thing. I couldn’t accept the idea of unwanted or troublesome part Zs being hauled off to little back rooms and offices, never to be seen or heard from again. My stomach turned watching what I now knew to be true unfold. Maybe Carm and I should keep her brother’s formula to ourselves if this was going on, I decided.

  The bell rang, crowds thinned as teachers broke up the chaos and herded everyone into the classrooms, leaving Carm and I standing there alone. I gazed at the banners and signs: School Improves Your Life, one said. Go to Another World: Read, said another.

  Right.

  I’d found that other world and sure wished I hadn’t. The signs mocked me. How unimportant this all seemed now.

  A staccato chirp made both of us stop in our tracks. It sounded again, followed by the shriek of what I thought was one of The Black Eyed Peas’ tunes. Carm changed her ringtone so often I wasn’t sure.

  “My phone!” Carm yelled, digging in her purse. The cell blared several more notes. She turned it on and checked the screen.

  “Unknown caller,” she whispered before answering. “Hello?”

  I reached out to steady her as Carm staggered back against the wall, her face white. Her next words made me catch my breath. “Mom? Wait, I can’t hear you. Where—? Mom!”

  “Carm?”

  The phone hung lifeless in her hand. I took it, listened a second to dead air, and hit the disconnect before I dropped it in her bag.

  Her words came out in gasps. “Sh-she said they were fine. It was hard to hear. All I could get was they’re still trying to come home.”

  “They’re okay? Both of them are all right? But where are they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  The two guards at the end of the hall called us over. “Girls, let’s go. Get to your classes.”

  The one man checked Carm’s schedule and directed her to the left. The other guard studied my schedule, then frowned at me, and opened the gate. “You’re in the wing,” he directed, his voice cold.

  I shivered and met Carm’s eyes, seeing the same dejection I felt. “I guess you were right, cuz. Neither of us should’ve come today. We don’t belong here.”

  She agreed and told the guard we needed to see the principal. “He said we should go to the office if anything is wrong.”

  I took her cue. “I feel sick. I need to go home.”

  The other man got on his walkie-talkie. He lowered his voice, but I heard what he said. If I could still blush I would’ve. Instead, I stared at the floor while he talked about me.

  “Got one of them here, said she’s sick. I thought they only made us ill,” he complained.

  The conversation done, we went left as he directed, his comments to his partner making me feel worse than ever. “Waste a taxpayer money lettin’ them back here,” he muttered.

  His attitude convinced me we needed to guard the formula at all costs.

  I saw the angry flush on Carm’s face and her clenched fist. She stopped, but I urged her on. “Forget it, Carm, a lot of people f
eel that way. Let’s go call my aunt. School’s out.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I’m sorry things didn’t work out.” Tia tried to sound upbeat. “Want to talk about it?”

  I couldn’t tell my aunt about all the dirty looks and smirks, the bad smells, and the rest of the disappointment that went into being one of the infected at Windale High. Tia had already heard enough of my heartbreak, she didn’t need to hear the details. Nor did I want to think about it again if I could help it.

  Her question didn’t center on me, though. The real thing she wanted to know, of course, was about the phone call. Neither one of us had anything else to say.

  “I’m sorry, Tia, I really am. I wish I knew more. Hope my mom’s okay. Why hasn’t she called me? I’m getting worried.”

  Tia sighed and shrugged, the motion making her gray-streaked black curls bounce like springs. “Girls, don’t worry, I’m sure they’re fine. Your mamas will call again, or maybe you will find them first. They may even come home sooner than we think.”

  Carm glanced out the window at her side, but not before I saw the tears well up in her eyes. I gave her arm a squeeze, leaned my head back into my hoodie, and scrunched down in the seat to watch the scenery go by. No one felt much like talking anymore.

  The rhythm of the car soon lulled me into a kind of doze. My head flopped sideways as the car bounced over a hole. I tried to zone out, focusing on the low hum of the engine, Carm’s soft snores and—

  I jerked awake and bolted upright. “Tia, LOOK OUT!”

  Carm’s scream joined my yelp and my aunt’s cry of “Oh, help us, mi Dios mi Dios! Niñas, hang on!” when something hit the front passenger side of the car.

  Instinctively I ducked down and peeked around my hoodie as the car passed an angry mob standing on the corner. I cringed at the clenched fists, shouting and curses thrown our way.

  The mob an ugly memory, my aunt gunned the car, but our relief was short-lived when a larger group came into view several feet further down the road. Oh, no! We had no way to get out.

  Unable to back up and with nowhere else to turn, my aunt swore under her breath and continued on. “Brace yourselves!” she roared.

  The taunts and yells grew louder the closer we got. I stared around my hood at ugly, sneering faces. At least forty or more people, men and women, glared at us and swarmed into the street. The mob chanted, yelled and cursed as Tia slowed down a bit if only to avoid running them over.

  The car locked tight, she clenched the wheel and drove ahead, her hand pressed on the horn. “Becca, get out of sight. Girls, get down.”

  I ducked, but not fast enough. A tall, dirty-faced man pointed at the car. “There’s one of them in there!”

  It turned into chaos.

  A swarm of people jumped at the car and thumped the car hood. They hit the doors and windows. The outside handles rattled, but luckily, the doors stayed locked.

  Carm and I clutched each other and huddled close to the middle of the car. We smashed ourselves as flat on the floor as we could.

  Revving the engine, my aunt swerved and tried to shake the haters off. “Hang on, girls, hang on!” she screamed.

  Tia steered with an iron grip and a continued string of muttered curses. The car, tires squealing, swerved around the rest of the mob. I craned my neck to see out, the car going wide, causing me and Carm to bounce around worse than my errant eyeball.

  “Bec, get down. Watch out!”

  Carm grabbed my arm and pulled me lower. WHAM! The window broke with a loud crack, sprinkling us with tiny chunks of glass. We huddled low on the floor and hugged each other for protection.

  The howls grew louder, acting like a propellant to the angry crowd. My aunt’s voice rose in alarm and anger over the mob’s roar. She floored the car, causing the people to jump back with more curses.

  The car sped forward unimpeded, leaving the group behind us. Carm and I shivered and clung to the floor mat, like it was a lifeline.

  “Girls, stay down! Carm, you have your cell? Hurry, dial nine, one, one.”

  Fumbling in her purse, her hand shaking, Carm hurriedly pulled out the phone and punched in the emergency number. “Help, there’s a mob, they attacked us! We’re on, what street are we on?”

  “Honey, Main, and Forty-fifth,” my aunt stated. “Take it easy.”

  “We’re on Main and Forty-fifth,” Carm sputtered, her voice getting higher in her excitement. I squeezed her arm and tried to get her to calm down.

  “Hurry, please, there’s a bunch of them. They’re yelling! They hit our car, they broke the window.” She bit back a sob. “Oh, please, hurry. Wait, yes-yes, I hear it. Thank you, thank you.”

  We all sighed in relief at the scream of the police car siren headed our way. Carm and I watched out the window at people running all over the street like ants fleeing the approach of an anteater.

  “Girls, are you all right? You’re not hurt?”

  “We’re fine, Tia. Are you okay?”

  “Sí. Not great, I’m a little shook up, but I’ll be fine. All I want is to get home, lock the door, and curl up with a hot toddy. I’ve got hot chocolate and some hot cranberry juice for you, Becca. How’s that sound?”

  “Bueno, Tia, muy bueno, but aren’t you going to stop and talk to la policia?”

  She shook her head and kept driving, leaning on the accelerator a little more. “No, not now. I’ll call when we get home. We need to get you girls home safe.”

  Carm motioned at the window, her worry showing in how she wrung her hands in her lap. “Sí, Becca? There’s another group. Aunt Imelda, there’s more of them up ahead.”

  My aunt pursed her lips and stomped her foot on the accelerator. The car rocketed forward like it was super-powered. “I see them. Girls, por favor, until we get home get down, stay low. Muchos locos. No comprende que pasa. Loco, muy loco.”

  I motioned Carm closer and whispered in her ear. “This is all getting to Tia, I think. She’s muttering in Spanish. Where’d they all come from? What’s going on?”

  The earlier conversation my aunt and I had came back. I peeked from behind the seat. “Tia? Can you put the radio on? Maybe we missed something.”

  She stopped muttering for a second, tuned in the news radio station and began to tsk-tsk and mumble again as the announcer came on. “Ay, loco, niñas. Todo el mundo está loco.”

  “Local police are reporting attacks on cars by flash mobs in response to recent reports about the spread of the Z virus,” the announcer said. “WHO officials state there is no cause for alarm. Updated vaccines are…”

  “Which means there is, right?” Carm whispered.

  “Tia, isn’t that what we just talked about?”

  “Sí, Becca. I am thinking el gato is out of the bag. The virus is spreading and people are going loco. I better call Franco again about the dog.”

  I scrunched down as close to my cousin as possible and whispered, “Carm, I think it’s time. This is getting too close to home.” I tried to prepare myself for her answer.

  “I know, cuz, I know, but what’re we going to do?” Carm clasped and unclasped her hands. “Where’ll we go? This is so freaky. I-I don’t know if we should go by ourselves. You scared?”

  “Yeah, I’m scared. I’d be crazy if I wasn’t.” This was more real than I’d imagined. I hadn’t thought this far ahead.

  I pondered everything for a minute and tried to figure out what we needed to do next. “Your mom was driving right? So my mom’s car’s still in the garage. We can take that.”

  “Bec, neither of us have a driver’s license.”

  “C’mon, you think it really matters? I have my permit and I can drive well enough, I’m just a lousy parker. We’ll take the side streets.” “Won’t, you know, there be more of them be on the back roads? What about the soldiers?” Gulp.

  She was probably right, but I had a hunch it would be the same no matter where we went. “I think the soldiers and police are too busy with the mobs to bother with much else.
I guess we should stay off the main roads. We don’t want to attract too much attention. Maybe we’ll zigzag around. I don’t know. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Where are we going?”

  I fought off a flutter of panic. I didn’t know. Where would we go? Think. Okay, where would my mother go if she couldn’t get home? We didn’t have any other family living around here. Who would she contact?

  “Bec?”

  “I’m thinking. Wait, I know. There’s only one place my mom will think is safe. We should still go to her friend Grace’s house in Lake Geneva. It’s more isolated. Probably less of them around, I hope. I think Mr. Jensen lives near her, too. He can help us.

  The rest of our planning would have to wait as my aunt’s frantic call grabbed our attention. “Girls? Stay down, más locos ahead. Darn. Hang on. Aieee…darn, I don’t have any more patience with this.”

  In response, she leaned on the horn and revved the car, sending us speeding by like we’d gotten caught up in the Indy 500. A few swerves and more beeping, we barreled down the road leaving a group of protestors eating our dust, yelling and cursing in our wake.

  With a curse, my aunt warned us to hang on. “More idiotas ahead girls, I’m going around and parking behind the house.”

  She swerved again, sending me and Carm banging off each other and against the seats like bumper cars. Poor Carm had turned positively green. On top of that, she’d be a colorful black and blue mañana.

  Me? I didn’t want to think about what repeated bruising and banging did to my eroding and weakened flesh. The possibility I might need a larger bandage on the weird spot on my leg crossed my mind.

  Best not think about any of this right now. The group of locos on the corner screamed at us, but stayed put as we rounded the corner. “Must be our lucky day,” I muttered. The car bumped and rocked slowly down the narrow alleyway.

  My aunt pulled in next to the garage and flicked off the ignition. “C’mon, hurry, let’s get inside. I’ll pull the car out front later once the crazies go home. Locos idiotas. Morons.”