The Zombies: Volumes One to Six Box Set

by Macaulay C. Hunter

  Sine. Cosine. Tangent. The wind ferried more leaves down the street, lifting them from branches as smoothly as a professional pickpocket. There was a faint taste of smoke in the air from a fire raging miles south. A lost hiker in the hills had set a fire on purpose, hoping to attract help, and lost control of it. Ten homes had burned down so far and acres of wildlife destroyed. It was mostly contained now. People were ready to lynch the hiker for being so stupid as to think a fire in such dry, windy weather conditions was a good idea.

  A leaf caught around a leg of their newest Wu-Pitch sign, Dad stubbornly replacing it every time one was stolen. The election would be over soon and this vitriol die down. He looked out to the yard in the early nights, almost daring someone to step on the clipped grass while he was watching. Mom pulled the curtains when she caught him doing that. Gun sales were booming and if someone wanted the sign that badly, let the dude have it. It wasn’t worth getting shot over. That had happened in Connecticut, a Wu-Pitch supporter confronting a man stealing the sign off her lawn, and the man shot her! Through the leg and in front of her terrified eight-year-old daughter.

  Elania worked through the problems with difficulty, having half a mind to call Zaley for help. It was a good bet that Zaley wouldn’t be getting this either, so they’d end up calling Micah for tutoring as they always did. Micah had dragged their sorry butts through elementary algebra, intermediate algebra, and then geometry. It was funny how she was so good at math but didn’t particularly like it any more than they did. Once Elania asked what subject Micah liked best and received an utterly blank look in answer. Micah didn’t really like anything. She was the most lackadaisical academic imaginable, not in the lazy definition of lackadaisical but the lacking enthusiasm one. After years of friendship, Elania wasn’t sure what Micah liked of anything except pizza.

  The family minivan turned down the road, looking far too quiet when Elania knew her brothers were yelling within it. Mom bumped up into the driveway and the back door slid open to expel a tumble of boys. Cormac ran to the house and slammed inside with a furious expression. Conor and Percy wrestled on the lawn as Elania hurried through the last problem and snapped her book shut, making sure the candy wrapper was concealed in her backpack. She couldn’t resist sour bombs.

  Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Mom called, “Hey! I’m so glad you’re all right.” Mom had texted Elania at school the second that news of the riot passed through the grapevine to the junior high where she worked. Dad wrote not five minutes later from his computer class at the alternative school. Schools across the nation had opened their doors today to chaos. There had been two murders, dozens of arrests, and a multitude of riots much worse than the one at Cloudy Valley High.

  “There was a big fight at your school!” Conor shouted after winning the tussle.

  “With police cars!” Percy cried in awe, as he wanted to be an officer one day.

  “We’ve got a zombie at our school,” Conor bragged. Seeing Mom’s look as she came around the car, he amended, “A kid with Sombra C. He’s in kindergarten. He’s got an aide and has to put his lunch trash and tissue in a special bag to be burned.”

  “And he can’t play with anyone at recess!” Percy competed. “He has to go to the office.”

  The boys shot each other with finger guns and Mom shooed them into the house to drop off their backpacks. She kissed Elania on the head and glanced at the cover of the textbook. “Ask your father if you have any questions; I don’t remember a snippet of trig.”

  “I was just thinking that I’d be imposing on Micah’s hospitality in this subject yet again,” Elania said. “I wish I had her mind for math.”

  “Are you sure you’re all right? I can’t believe the high school rioted. How upsetting.”

  “Mortifying is more like it,” Elania said, trading out math for government. She thought she knew Cloudy Valley High and its people, but all of a sudden, she did not.

  Leaning against the railing, Mom rolled her eyes at the shouts within the house. “Where were you when it broke out?”

  “In the teachers’ parking lot with Micah. We were watching the protest in the bus loop. It moved to the office and we followed at the tail end. At that point, it was just a lot of yelling. I thought everyone would leave off and go pick up their schedules. But then . . . people were pushing and shoving, throwing things and screaming . . . I guess a good journalist would have gone in closer to observe.” Micah was the one to run toward the madness for a better look; Elania backed away fearfully. She hadn’t come to school to get arrested, and she didn’t care about the Sombra C students as long as they stayed away from her.

  “Lani, a good journalist shows discretion,” Mom pointed out. “They don’t run willy-nilly into riots.”

  “Coach Hoover ferried us out to the parking lot to hide while the cops got it under control. A lot of kids just went home. When the all clear came those of us still there cut through the courtyard to the auditorium. The school looked like a war zone, and it couldn’t have lasted ten minutes. There were eleven arrests total, the two Shepherds who sparked it, eight boys and one girl. Most of the kids were tearing up classrooms. One was setting fires. So Dad might be getting some new students at Shore. Corbin took a trashcan to the head.”

  “Corbin? That’s horrible!”

  “He has a mild concussion. The doctor released him from the hospital at noon and he went home. He should be back at school tomorrow.” They had gotten the blow-by-blow from Sally, who poked her head in at lunch as Welcome Mat cleaned up one of the classrooms. It had been Zaley’s idea to offer help, and Elania didn’t think that she would ever forget poor Ms. Cullin’s shell-shocked face in that destroyed room. It was her first year of teaching and she had spent three days decorating with maps and posters for her freshman history classes. Not one thing was still whole, and her purse had been stolen. Her classes were going to be held in the library for the time being, as were Mr. Vanson’s. Elania wanted to tell Ms. Cullin that the students at Cloudy Valley weren’t all like that, but her words had no legs at the moment. The student body had reduced themselves to a mindless herd of screaming, violent lunatics tearing apart their own nest.

  “We got the names this morning,” Mom said. “All six of the Sombra C students: two at the high school, one at my school, and three more spread out among the elementary schools. There are also twelve students who are healthy but have infected family members, and five students in our district who died over the summer.”

  “Five?” That hadn’t been in the local news.

  “Three from the same family, all in elementary school. We don’t know them, the Alcinis. They moved to Cloudy Valley two years ago from Minneapolis, and returned over the summer to visit. The whole family contracted Sombra C and died there. The grandparents didn’t want anything made public, so they had the house packed up here and told people the family moved. But the truth was they moved to a crematorium. One of my own kids from English 7 last year has died, Saullie Warner.”

  “I remember you talking about him,” Elania said. Mom had sent him to the office regularly. His parents excused his behavior as joyful and energetic, and believed that he was too bright for regular education anyway.

  “He and his mother came down with it and died in the San Francisco confinement point, and the father is being held there with a viral load too high to qualify for release.” Mom tapped the railing pensively. “Saullie was a good kid at heart. Just couldn’t stop running his mouth. I thought I heard him laughing in the hallways today. And there’s a Sombra C student right over at Miwan with the boys! He’s in the morning kindergarten and they’ve given him a one-on-one aide to make sure he doesn’t spread the infection. There were protestors outside the office when his parents brought him in. But it was just angry words and signs, no destruction.” She sniffed. “Smells like smoke.”

  “What’s wrong with Cormac?” Elania asked.

  Mom sighed. “Remember that long talk Dad had with the boys over zombie games not being
allowed at school? Guess who got caught at morning recess playing zombie. So he and his friends lost lunch recess as a consequence, and when he argued, his teacher took away the costume parade tomorrow.”

  Grimacing, Elania pitied her combative little brother. He had been talking about Halloween since summer. Mom went inside at the summons of a loud crash. Tuning out the noise as best as she could, Elania plugged through her homework and looked at the PEWTER sticker every time she was tempted to take a break. On the other side of the wall, Mom separated the boys from the television, which they weren’t allowed to watch on school nights.

  “But Lani watches TV at night! It’s not fair!” Cormac whined.

  “Lani is a big girl and responsible!” Mom said.

  Dad came home, hugged Elania, and corralled the boys into doing their assigned reading so Mom could make dinner in peace. Elania had watched some reruns of Multiple Madness, the reality show about a family with toddler septuplets, and it shocked her how the father came home and sat on the couch. Letting his wife and twin eleven-year-old daughters wrangle the little ones while he drank a beer and watched television! Whenever he did something, as he was forced to in those conditions, he acted like he deserved a prize. Elania only made it through three episodes, since she heard enough screaming in her own house without listening to it in someone else’s. She didn’t know how the guy’s wife resisted the urge to smack him with the frying pan for a prize. The triplets had been so hard as babies, even with grandmothers staying for long visits to help, and Aunt Tawnie driving down from Sable Heights almost every Sunday for over a year. Aunt Tawnie didn’t do babies, but she spent the day running laundry and whipping the kitchen and bathrooms into shape while a meal stewed in the slow cooker. Sometimes Mom forgot that she was even there, because she was good at not needing attention when no one had any left to give. In the evenings, Aunt Tawnie treated Elania to an ice cream break, since she did older kids fine. The baby stage just bugged her. Then she drove all the way home to feed her cats and enjoy Monday off with her boyfriend. They were hospice workers.

  A rumble emanated from her backpack. Elania had forbidden herself to look at her phone until her homework was done, but she was close enough now. Taking it out, she found multiple texts even though it had only vibrated once. The oldest was an hour old and from Zaley, who was in despair that her mother was looking into homeschooling upon news of the riot. The next was from Corbin, addressed to a dozen people (although interestingly, not Sally) asking if they or their little sisters had an old magic wand toy they would be okay lending out for tomorrow. And his head was fine. Zaley wrote back that she had one as good as new, and Micah in the most recent message from seconds ago offered hers if she got back from Bellinger by tomorrow.

  Are you not planning to come to school? Why are you all the way over there? Elania wrote. She thought too late that she should have made it private.

  Bored, Micah lamented. Just driving around.

  Drive your shiftless ass back here and cover the register to closing! Austin bellowed in text. Everyone in Cloudy Valley is packed from wall to wall with those stupid coupons, all wanting that nasty new candy corn flavored frozen yogurt and Wil went home because his kid is sick.

  Turning around now, Micah wrote. I love you for calling me shiftless.

  Did Wil’s kid eat the candy corn flavored frozen yogurt? Corbin queried. Gross.

  I would try that, Zaley wrote almost meekly.

  Does your mommy allow it? Micah insulted.

  Fuck you, Zaley retorted.

  Fuck you back, baby.

  Fuck all of you, Austin wrote in despair. A whole soccer team just barged in.

  Children, Elania scolded, although she was grinning. She enjoyed how this bright group of young adults degenerated in each other’s company. Unlike today’s riot at school, it was harmless barb hurling and none of it was intended to hurt feelings. The extended summer had been no fun without them. What are you guys going to be for Halloween? Elania hadn’t planned to do anything.

  It’s a secret, Corbin wrote.

  I’m dressing up as Mr. Dayze, Micah answered. Half my shirt tucked in, flip-flops, unwashed hair, and my fly held up with a gold safety pin. Zaley and I enjoyed that all through second period.

  Enjoyed is not the right word, Zaley wrote.

  I’ve seen homeless people dressed more neatly, Micah responded.

  Fuck your coupons, Austin wrote darkly.

  The phone buzzed in Elania’s hand. She didn’t recognize the number. It was probably a spam call, but she tapped answer. “Hello?”

  “Is this Elania Douglas?”

  “Yes, it is. And you are?”

  “Shelly Cray.”

  Shocked, Elania jumped in the chair and held the cell a few inches away. How ridiculous! She couldn’t get Sombra C through the phone! Returning the cell to her ear, she searched for a response. The girl said, “You might not remember me, but we had a class together long ago.”

  “Yeah, algebra. Um . . . how are you?”

  “Oh well, you know. I can start a riot just by walking onto my school campus now. Look, I have a question for you, and I want an honest answer. You were a nice person, as I remember. And I’ve always liked your reviews in the paper.”

  “Shoot,” Elania said, attempting to recall if they had ever said anything to one another in algebra. They had. One day Shelly had asked to borrow a pencil, and Elania handed over her extra. That was it.

  “I want to know if your sign is legit, the one saying everyone is welcome in your club? Or does it not extend to Sombra C students? Because Trevor and I can’t sit outside with the other kids for safety reasons, and we don’t want to spend every lunch in the filing office to sit on boxes, which was where we were sent today. We aren’t lepers. Our condition is under control. It’d be nice to have a place three times a week where we aren’t pariahs.”

  Elania had no clue what to say. Let me talk to the co-presidents? I’ll get back to you? When the pause stretched out a beat too long, Shelly said, “We’ll sit at our own table in there, if that makes it better. We have to eat on towels anyway, so we’re not contaminating anything. You know what, never mind-”

  “We’d be happy to have you,” Elania interrupted, her stomach churning from nerves. It was the right thing to do, let them in, or else they violated their own mission statement. But still!

  Surprised, Shelly said, “Really?”

  “Really. We meet on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. You can pick where you want to sit, which side I mean. There’s homework help on the free activities side. On the media side, we usually watch clips of movies or the news and talk about the racism or sexism in them. Sometimes we just chat.” Nervously, Elania nattered, “And we have Offensive Question Friday once a month if someone volunteers to be the subject. If you’ve a genuine question about some other religion or race or sex or sexual orientation than yours, anything, ask and no one will be offended. Zaley started that, since the first thing she ever said to Corbin Li in junior high was to ask for help with her math homework, purely because he’s Chinese.”

  “Offensive Question Friday,” Shelly repeated. “It would be nice if people saved up their questions for one day a month.”

  “You’re getting them all the time,” Elania guessed.

  “Yeah. Mostly people wanting to know my percent if they can’t make it out, or telling me about their cousin’s friend’s uncle who went crazy and bit people. And they always, always want to know how I got it. My personal life is suddenly everyone’s business, and they get pissed if I don’t answer. But I don’t walk around with my personal business on display. And you know? I have protestors outside my house right this second, shouting that my family should move. Listen.”

  A window creaked, and Elania heard the same chant of no freaks that had happened at school. When the window creaked again, Elania said, “I’m sorry.”

  “I am, too. So I’m going to be straight with you, even though I won’t be straight if anyone asks me on Of
fensive Question Friday. I’ll tell them I was out shopping and some freak ran up and bit me. Gets your sympathy, doesn’t it? Not my fault. It could happen to anyone. But the truth is that a guy gave it to me through sex. Gets a totally different reaction. Didn’t you use protection? How long did you know him? It’s a whole new way to slut shame.”

  Liking this girl, Elania said, “Why are you telling me the truth?”

  “Because I don’t think you’ll tell, and you have a boyfriend who looks like a goddamned underwear model,” Shelly said. Forgetting briefly about bearding, Elania swallowed the response that she didn’t. “You know what it’s like. Being tempted. Jon was a student at Velgen High. We met at a track meet and just clicked. Everything clicked. He didn’t even know he had it when we . . . were together. He’s dead now. Zyllevir never worked for him. So I made one stupid mistake, and now I’ve got a stamp tattooed into my neck and protestors throwing eggs at my house. My parents think I’m a tramp, I’m not allowed to play sports anymore, and the college I want isn’t accepting anyone with Sombra C. So I’m paying the rest of my life just for some lousy sex.”

  “Elania! Dinner!” Mom shouted, followed by a chorus of the boys yelling the same.

  “I’ve got to go. My mom is calling,” Elania said. “See you Wednesday, and please bring Trevor.”

  “Thank you. Bye,” Shelly said, but as Elania began to lower the phone to end the call, the girl continued. “Last night, I looked at my bottle of Zyllevir and thought I should take it all. Just end it. I feel like I always did, but everyone looks at me like I’m so disgusting. But I’m not. I’m not.” She hung up.

  Elania collected her belongings and brought them inside, calling to the dining room for everyone not to wait since she had to run to the bathroom first. Chairs squeaked as she closed the door and sat on the toilet to text Corbin and Zaley. I just invited the Sombra C students to Welcome Mat. It was the right thing to do.