Zombie High

by Shawn Kass

  “Well, when the infected people began to attack and the school went into lockdown, I started trying to figure out what was going on and had some students in my second hour honors class helping out.”

  When Mr. Ray pauses, his brain clearly riding out multiple lines of thought at the same time, you prompt him, asking, “And?”

  Answering you, he says, “Oh, sorry, I just thought of another thing we could try, but I don’t have all the supplies here. Anyway, I was saying that Mackie from my second hour was the first to spot the parasite that’s causing the people out there to act like zombies.”

  Curious, you ask, “Really? Where did you guys get it? Did you capture one of the zombies or something?”

  “No. Nothing quite so complicated like that. The parasites are actually in the water.”

  “What?” you ask, not understanding his statement.

  “The parasites, they’re in the water.”

  “Like the drinking water?” you ask in disbelief.

  “Yes, and the toilet water, the faucets, all of it.”

  “How can that be? I mean, if it’s in the water then wouldn’t we all be infected?” you ask.

  Nodding sadly, Mr. Ray says, “Yes, we are. My best guess is that people started getting infected roughly two days ago, and by now it’s probably in over ninety-nine percent of the population.”

  “No way. That can’t be. I mean, I’m not a zombie, and none of you look like one either.”

  “The parasite can’t really begin to do its work as long as the body’s normal immune system is working. It looks like it is just in our bloodstream in stasis, like it’s asleep. It’s kind of hanging out and waiting for its opportunity.”

  “You mean waiting for us to die,” you say, clarifying his statement.

  Shrugging, he says, “Yes, or something else to cause the body’s immune system to either stop functioning or at least get so weak that it can take control of certain brain functions so that it can direct the person towards its goal of spreading the contagions.”

  Noticing how he pluralized the last word, you ask, “What do you mean, ‘contagions’? It’s the parasite that we have to worry about, right?”

  Shaking his head, Mr. Ray says, “No. Actually, since we are all already infected with the parasite as far as I can tell, it’s not the parasite that’s the biggest problem anymore. When the zombies attack, they are doing two things. First, it would seem that they try to bite for the neck, the inner arm, or the inner thigh where the arteries are close to the skin and the person’s death will be the most likely so the parasite can gain control over the victim, or in this case ‘host’ is probably more accurate a term, quickly. The other issue is the bites themselves. People have a ton of bacteria and viruses in their mouths, and when they bite people, they are essentially spreading those things around. Added to that, as they bite, they ingest the blood and flesh of their victims and become carriers for any additional contagious things that person was carrying. By this point, considering the statistics, the average zombie out there is carrying everything from AIDS and hepatitis to E. coli and staphylococcus in their mouth, in addition to the common cold and gingivitis.”

  Understanding where his train of thought is going, you say, “So these things are really just vectors for all of the bad stuff out there, and if they don’t kill you outright, their bites will by infecting you with a bunch of nasty stuff.”

  “Exactly,” says Mr. Ray, a little too excited about the fact that you showed that you knew the material, almost forgetting the implications of the statements themselves.

  “Do you know where it came from?” you ask.

  “That one is a little harder, but I think that when the economy bottomed out and the pharmaceutical plant closed up, they dumped a lot of their stuff into the water. When that happened, it all mixed together, and the bacteria and plants in the water consumed it. Honestly, there’s no telling what that could have done and how it would have affected future generations of the stuff, but it’s the most likely scenario. I mean to look at this thing under a microscope, it appears to have quite a few characteristics in common with the Ophiocordyceps fungi.”

  “Fungi, you mean like mushrooms?” asks Ryan.

  “Kind of, but this is a parasitic fungi. Anyway, the Ophiocordyceps takes control of the minds of ants and turns them zombie-like. That’s something that’s been around for a while. Now the way I see it, if the pharmaceutical company dumped enough of the right stuff in the water, it could have forced the parasites to adapt or evolve. Either way, they’re here now.”

  Asking the obvious question, you say, “So, what are we going to do?”

  Thinking about it for second, Mr. Ray says, “Well, the good news is that the parasite will not be able to maintain the human body for too long. It’s like they are the captain of the Titanic after the ship hit the iceberg. The people they are controlling are either already dead, or so far gone that medical science could never bring them back. The only difference is that now instead of them just lying on the ground, or as in my original analogy the captain going down with his ship, it’s trying to hit as many other ships, in this case people, as it can to bring them down with it.”

  Taking a minute to process all of this, you look around the lab and notice that there only seems to be half a class worth of students in here, and they’re all busy tinkering with stuff at the various workstations. Realizing that some of them must have perished, you ask, “So is that what happened to the rest of your class? Did one of them get in here and get some of your students?”

  “Yes, unfortunately. We have been using the stuff you see around here in the lab to create some defensive weapons, but we didn’t know exactly how suitable they would be in a real encounter without trying them. A couple of the students decided to take it upon themselves to try some out on the reanimated corpses in the hall, and they ended up getting bit. We got them back in the classroom as quick as we could, but the infections already started to do their work, and they managed to hurt several others before we quarantined ourselves off in here.”

  Realizing that these students he speaks of must have been some of the creatures you and the others just put down in the hall, you skip your next question about them and move on to the more practical inquiries. “We already know that hitting them in the head enough times works, but what else have you found?”

  “Acid takes too long to put them down and is better off as a means of disposal when it gets to be time to clean them up. Fire is a bad idea because they just keep coming. It’s like the nerves have been disconnected from their brain, and they don’t feel it. Electricity works, but it’s dangerous to both them and the user because it takes at least twice as much current to put them down. You have to almost cook the brain.” Looking down to the gun in his hand, Mr. Ray says, “This here is about the only thing I’ve been able to make which does the trick, but it requires some skill to use.”

  “It looks like a gun,” exclaims Chris.

  “It’s a rail gun, actually,” says Mr. Ray. “It uses magnets to accelerate a pellet instead of gunpowder and bullets. The pellets I’m using are sodium pellets coated in glycerol. When they come in contact with water, or in this case the sweat, saliva, or blood and tissues of the undead, they react violently, destroying the area. The key is that it has to go in the mouth, eyes, or head far enough that the reaction destroys the brain.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a few extra ones laying around?” asks Chris.

  “No, I only had he supplies to make one. Besides, there aren’t a lot of sodium pellets and those things are just as bad if you touch them as the creatures. They’ll react with the oil on your fingers.”

  “What about the rest of this stuff, then?” asks Bagdonas. “Is there anything here we could use?”

  “Maybe, but we’ve been working to build up our supplies for Mr. Castle and his students first.”

  Knowing that Mr. Castle is an ex-military guy, you mentally kick yourself for not seeking him out first. If
there was anyone who was going to survive a zombie apocalypse, he would be the guy. Looking to Mr. Ray, you ask, “Where is he?”

  “Last time I checked, he was in his classroom,” answers Mr. Ray. “When we got stuck in here, I took apart the PA system wiring over here,” pointing to the cords hanging out of the wall, “and started trying to contact the office and then other rooms for help. Mr. Castle was the only one who picked up.”

  “Can we speak to him?” asks Bagdonas. “I have him for a teacher fifth hour.”

  “Maybe in a little bit. He’s supposed to be coming down here to pick up supplies, and then he said he would take the rest of us upstairs to safety.”

  Unsure if he meant the teachers’ lounge or not, it still brings your thoughts back to your mission, so you say, “I met some people upstairs. They said they were safe where they were, but wouldn’t let me in unless I brought them some stuff.” Looking over to the wall next to the shower, you ask, “Can we take your first aid kit?”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Mr. Ray says, “I guess, but it won’t do you much good if someone gets infected.” Then realizing your intention, he says, “You’re not planning to go out there on your own are you? Just wait here and someone will come. If not Mr. Castle, someone.”

  Considering his words, you have a choice to make.

  If you go for the teachers’ lounge, turn to page ……… 226 If you wait for Mr. Castle, turn to page ..…………………. 261

  Head Out to Help Those in the Teachers’ Lounge

  Shaking your head, you say, “I’m sorry, Mr. Ray, but I told them I’d be back. I think they’re counting on me. I’m going to have to go.”

  “I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” begins Mr. Ray. “By this point, my conservative estimates suggest that over eighty-seven percent of the school has been converted, and in case you haven’t looked outside recently, there seem to be more of them arriving every few minutes.”

  Looking out the window for the first time since this morning, you notice that he’s right. It appears as if someone hung a sign on St. Mary’s High School that says ‘FREE BUFFET’ in zombie language because there have to be at least a hundred or more out there just milling around. Convincing yourself as well as the others, you say, “It’ll be all right. I’m not going outside, and the ones here in the school seem to be mostly locked up inside the classrooms. I’ve been out there all morning, and I haven’t been bitten.”

  “That could just be your stupid good luck,” begins Bagdonas. “Who’s to say that if you step out there right now there won’t be another dozen or so waiting?”

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take. I told them I’d come back,” you say, and then add, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. You can stay here with Mr. Ray.”

  “Oh trust me, I was planning on it. Mr. Ray has supplies here, and Mr. Castle is on his way. I’ll be a lot safer with the two of them then out there with you.”

  Slightly hurt by this considering you just helped save her life a little while ago, you say, “That’s all right,” and then turn to Chris and Ryan to ask, “How about you? You don’t have to, but…,” and leave the rest of your sentence unspoken.

  Ryan and Chris both look at each other and then to you before Chris says, “We’re real grateful you helped us back there, but I think we have to stay here. Strength in numbers and all.” Then almost as an afterthought, he adds, “I’m sure when Mr. Castle comes, and we all leave, we can swing by and get those other people.”

  You take a minute to consider the fact that you will be going out on your own and try to weigh it against the idea of waiting and having others with you. It’s a hard choice, but you decide…

  If you go alone, turn to page …………………. 228 If you wait, turn to page ……………………………. 261

  Go Alone

  Determined, you say, “I’m sorry, I gave my word, I have to go,” and when Mr. Ray makes one more attempt to dissuade you, you say, “I know you don’t agree, but this very well could be the end of the world. If we’re not going to be honest with each other and hold to our promises, then we’ve lost more than just the people around us, we’ve lost ourselves too.”

  Sure it came out way deeper than you intended, but it does the trick as Mr. Ray concedes and says, “Well, if I can’t convince you otherwise, then at least take the first aid kit.” Then stepping around his desk, he pulls out a clear plastic backpack with a red tag hanging off it that says the room number. Handing it to you, he says, “This is the emergency pack teachers were issued at the beginning of the year. You’ve probably seen us with them during the fire drills and stuff. Well, aside from our attendance list, it has a bunch of first aid items, a flashlight, and a radio. Take it with you, and be careful. You can come back at any time, so long as you don’t get bitten.”

  With an awkward smile, you say, “Thank you,” and head for the door as you slip your arms through the straps. When you reach the door, you take up your twoby-four again and give Mr. Ray a nod saying, “Ok, I’m ready.”

  Reluctantly, Mr. Ray opens the door and points his sodium rail gun into the hall. When nothing immediately attacks, you step past him and begin to head up the hall. You’re not more than a few steps away before you hear the soft click of the latch as the door closes behind you, and without looking back, you know they’ve secured themselves in the lab once more.

  Considering your situation, you now have the twoby-four in your hands, and the hammer on your belt to use as weapons, and on your back is a backpack with plenty of first aid stuff. The only thing you’re missing is the food they requested. You could skip it, go up there and give them what you have along with the information you’ve gathered, or you could go for the food. What do you think?

  If you head for the food first, turn to page ………………. 230 If you head to the teachers’ lounge, turn to page ……. 244

  Head for the Food

  Deciding that you promised you would bring them what they asked for, and you don’t want to be denied entry at the door again, you skip the stairs and continue walking to go get food. Considering the school’s layout, there are really only about two places to get food. The first and most logical on a typical day of school is the cafeteria. The other is the snack machine in the back hallway.

  The food in the cafeteria is never all that good, but it’s free. The only problem is some of it is bound to be frozen, not all of it, mind you, but at least the usual stuff like pizza, tacos, and whatnot. The pudding and ravioli should be in cans though, and if there is a can opener, you’re pretty sure the teachers’ lounge has a microwave. While you’ve never been in the teachers’ lounge before, you highly doubt that they have a full kitchen in there, so you are leaning towards going straight to the vending machines. The only issue there is that the food in the vending machines requires money. At best, you have the five quarters your mom set out for you on the table in your pocket at the moment, and that’s not going to be enough to buy much. Guess you have to make another decision then because this is the intersection coming up which will either head to the back hallway with the vending machines or the cafeteria.

  If you head for the cafeteria, turn to page ………………. 232 If you go to the vending machines, turn to page ………. 237

  Cafeteria

  Deciding that the cafeteria is the best option since it’s bound to have the most food and will be at least better for you that a bunch of stale chips and cookies out of the vending machine, you head straight at the next intersection. You are busy trying to think of what might be easy to grab in the kitchen that won’t require much preparation or the use of a stove/oven when you hear the first disturbing sounds. Slowing down, you try to make your footsteps as quiet as possible as you approach, knowing that there is no point to turning back if you don’t know what’s around the corner.

  It takes you several more minutes to close the distance on the next intersection, something you’ve done innumerable times in the past in just a few s
econds without a care in the world other than whose homework you were going to copy before class. As you get closer, the sound, of course, gets louder, and you find yourself no longer questioning so much what is around the corner as you are how many of them are there.

  Being as careful as you can, you crouch down against the wall and try to peek into the next hall to see what’s going on. It takes you several seconds as you slowly lean your head out a little further and then a bit more before you have a line of sight on the commotion. What you find is something that will haunt you for the rest of your life. From your vantage point it appears as if fifty or more of the zombies have congregated within the cafeteria and have managed to destroy and/or tear up everything in the place, or, more likely, knocked down a wall of tables and chairs that was being used as a makeshift blockade. From the look of things, the zombies inside seem to be moving towards the back kitchen area, probably the last place the people inside had to fall back to when their wall went down, and there doesn’t seem to be any way for you to help them. Sure, you could go in there swinging your two-by-four around, and you would probably get in a few good shots, maybe take some of them down, but the numbers clearly aren’t in your favor. You know that they would swarm over you in a matter of minutes taking your life and adding you to their numbers with bite after bite.

  Unwilling to commit yourself to a kamikaze mission without knowing if anyone inside is even alive in there, you decide to go for your other option and get food from the vending machine. Sure, you don’t have much money, but you do have a two-by-four, and so long as none of the undead are back there, you should be able to use it to remove the display window and do a little five finger discounting. It’s wrong, you admit, but at this point it’s about survival, and you’re pretty sure that God wouldn’t want you to die out here if there was a way for you to get to safety and help others in the process. On top of that, you go ahead and promise yourself that if you do make it out of here alive, you’ll get the money from your parents or empty your piggy bank out and put it all into the machine.