Zombie High (21 page)

“Most of them,” you respond. “Just hurry up and
let me in, and I’ll show you what I got.”
The covering over the window is drawn back, and
the girl looks at you for a second, clearly noticing your
anxiety, and asks, “You don’t look right. You bit?”
Agitated, you respond, “Not yet, but I will be in
about ten seconds if you don’t open this stupid door.”
Asking one last question, she says, “Do you have
the first aid kit?”
Hooking a thumb towards your backpack, you say,
“Yes, now let me in.”
The girl hesitates for one more agonizing second,
and you almost give up and bolt, but then she lets the
cover over the window drop and opens the door. Before
the door is even wide enough for you to get through,
you’re already pushing your way through and yelling,
“Close it, close it!” knowing that the undead are right on
your tail.
With the door closed and the dead literally
slamming themselves against it to get to you, your eyes
adjust to the dimly lit interior, and you get your first real
look at the room. Two disgusting looking microwaves sit
on a table near the door, neither of which look like
they’ve been cleaned all year and have multicolored
splatters of who knows what on their windows. There are
three tables with plastic chairs around them pushed up
against one wall, and a refrigerator and sink sit against the
one opposite them. Furthest from the door, sitting just
under the windows is a two person love seat, and a small
end table with a phone on it. Clearly these aren’t the
most luxurious accommodations, but it’s good to see that
the staff isn’t up here sitting in decadence while the
students settle for whatever they get.
Assessing the people in the room, you find the girl
who was talking to you at the door. She’s shorter than
you and not very intimidating, and then there are the two
people on the love seat. A girl with long dark hair sits with
her legs tucked up underneath her next to a boy you think
might be a senior who is wrapped nearly head to toe in
duct tape. Looking back to the girl at the door, you ask,
“What the heck is this? Is he infected?”
From the love seat next to the boy wrapped tight in
silver adhesive, the other girl answers saying, “Obviously,
that’s why we needed the first aid kit,” as she gets up and
tries to take the backpack off your shoulders.
Shaking your head in disbelief, you say, “You
refused to let me in because you were afraid I might be
bitten when all this time you had a zombie in here with
you? Unbelievable.”
Looking up to you with her hands still buried in the
backpack, the girl says, “First of all, he’s my boyfriend, and
second, we ran out of duct tape so if you were bitten, we
wouldn’t have anything left to protect ourselves with.”
Angry, you say, “Well, I hate to break it to you, but
one, he’s not your boyfriend anymore, he’s one of them,”
pointing back towards the door where the three zombies
continue to try to enter, “and two, there isn’t anything in
that backpack, or any first aid kit in the world for that
matter, that’s going to bring him back to life.”
“Shut up,” says the girl, almost in tears as defeat
starts to work its way into her mind for the first time.
“You’re being really mean,” says the other girl who
still stands next to the door.
Unable to stop yourself, you begin to laugh out
loud as you say, “I’m being mean, oh, I’m being mean. Is
that right? Why, because I’m telling her the truth?” Then
whirling to face her, you say, “What’s mean is sending
people out into that hell, holding safety at ransom while
you two sit in here doing nothing. What’s mean is having
to face down a bunch of people who you used to think of
as fellow students and are now forced to beat to death
with a freaking two-by-four all because someone, namely
you two, wouldn’t let me in here to use the phone. I can’t
even tell you how many times I almost died out there, but
I’m supposedly mean for being honest with you when I tell
you there’s no saving him.”
“How do you know?” says the girl as she takes her
hands out of the backpack. “Maybe if we use this alcohol
wipe and some of this peroxide, the wound will clear up
and he’ll get better.”
Looking back to her, you yell, “Because if it was
that easy, then there wouldn’t be a school full of those
monsters out there.” Then taking a breath, you say in a
calmer voice, “If you look at the tag on the backpack,
you’ll see I was down in the science lab. Mr. Ray said that
this parasite thing is everywhere, and that there is no
cure. All we can do is make sure we don’t get bitten, or
let our immune systems drop by getting sick or whatever.
That’s how it takes over.”
Stepping away from the door, the girl asks, “You
talked to Mr. Ray? Is he okay?”
“Yes, and so is Mr. Castle apparently.” Then
looking back to the door and noticing the jarring of the
zombies on the other side is starting to have an effect, you
add, “Together the two of them have a plan, but we’re
going to have to survive if we want find out what it is.”
Facing the door, the girl in front of you says, “They
must know we’re in here now. They’ve never acted like
this before.”
Taking the opportunity, you step over to the end
table, careful to keep as much distance between you and
the tape bound individual sitting next to you, and try to
make your phone call. As you punch in the last number,
you are greeted with a series of chimes and then a voice
which announces that all of the lines are currently busy,
and that you should try back another time. Frustrated,
you slam the phone back into its cradle and stare out the
window.
Behind you, the girl backs further away from the
door until she stands next to her friend and asks, “What
are we going to do?”
That’s when you spot your first potential escape
plan, a water pipe which leads up the side of the building
to the roof. The pipe appears to be about three inches
around and easy to grab hold of if you were to open the
window. The only problem is, while you’re confident that
you could climb it, you don’t know if the other two will be
able to. Luckily, a voice from over your shoulder says,
“Yeah, I was thinking about that, too, but I didn’t know if it
was safe.”
Spinning around you see that the girls are both
huddled together on the other side of the room, and then
it hits you that the voice sounded masculine rather than
feminine. You almost turn to look at the zombie wrapped
in duct tape when you hear the voice again, “I’m up here,”
and look to find a face staring back at you from the air
duct.
Recognizing his features, you know it’s one of the
Day brothers, but you can’t remember if it’s Chris, Rob, or
Pat. Dismissing the need for a first name, you simply ask,
“Day, what are you doing in there?”
“Same as you, just trying to stay safe.”
“You look like you’re trying out for the remake of
Die Hard
. What’s it like in there?’
With a shrug, he admits, “It’s a little tight, but I’ve
been able to get almost everywhere in the school.”
Across the room, the door receives another jarring
impact from the zombies, and the glass window breaks,
littering shards all over the floor as the two girls scream.
It won’t be long now, and they’ll be on top of you. It’s
time to make a decision. You can either climb out of the
window and use the pipe to go up to the roof, or you can
get inside the air duct with Day and try to crawl for safety.

Deciding that you don’t want to be stuck inside this
school any longer and having nightmarish visions of
infected creatures crawling after you through a labyrinth
of dark air ducts, you tell the rest of the students, “Come
on, there’s a pipe attached to the side of the building, we
can use it to climb up to the roof and wait for help there.”

Not waiting for a reply, you climb up on the other
end of the love seat, the end away from the shiny
wrapped mummy boyfriend, and begin to open the
window as the girls step closer to see what you’re doing
and how to follow you. That’s when the older girl says,
“But what about my boyfriend? How are we supposed to
get him up there?”

Looking over your shoulder at her with a ‘you’ve
got to be kidding’ face, you say, “Trust me, the zombies
don’t eat each other. They only want the living. He’ll be
fine. Besides it would take an hour to unwrap him, and I
don’t know anyone who has the patience for that.”

She begins to say something snarky in return, but
her voice is drowned out when you open the window and
hear the voices of the hundred or so walking dead below,
moaning as they cross the front lawn of the school. The
distance from where you are to their outstretched hands
is over fifteen feet, but you know that it will only take one
slip, and you’ll be in their hungry embrace all too quickly.
Reaching out, you grab hold of the pipe and yank on it a
couple of time just to make sure that it holds. When it
doesn’t budge, you decide it’s safe and tell the others,
“Look, I know this is risky, but I also know those things are
coming. Now we can use the air vents like Day, but so can
they. I’m going up this pipe because I know it’s the one
way they can’t follow us.”

“How do you know?” asks the younger girl. “How
do you know they can’t follow you?”
“Simple, the pipe runs all the way to the ground. If
they could climb it, then they would be on their way up
here already.”
“Well, I’m not going,” says the older one. “I would
rather follow Day through the vent than have a bunch of
creatures looking up my skirt while I climb out there.”
With a sad shake of your head, you say, “You do
know that they’re not interested in seeing what you’ve
got as much as they are in eating your flesh, don’t you?”
Then, not waiting for a reply, you say, “Fine, follow
whoever you want,” and climb out the window.
Grabbing the pipe easily, you swing yourself out
and set your feet into the brick face of the building the
best you can while leaning back to give your shoes the
best grip you can. Then, doing your best not to look
down, you reach up and take your first tentative step
towards the roof. It becomes a careful four step process
as you reach up with one hand and then the other, and
then step up with one foot and then the other. All the
while you keep your eyes on the bricks in front of you and
your fingers in the tightest death grip you can manage on
the pipe. When you are about six feet from the edge of
the roof, that’s when you feel the first sign of trouble.
Apparently, whoever installed this pipe didn’t count on
someone like you to be climbing it, or it was put in fifty
years ago when the school was built, and the bolts holding
it in place have rusted out. Either way, you feel the
distance between you and the wall growing a little at a
time. Not sure if you should climb quicker or freeze and
wait for it to stop, the choice is ripped away from you as
the gut-wrenching creak of metal finally gives way, and
you begin to fall back.
As you plummet to the ground below, you pray
that you’ll land on your head and be knocked out or
worse, so long as you don’t have to feel the crowd below
tearing into your body. Your prayers, however, go
unanswered this time, and you end up landing on your
side, breaking your arm and seriously hurting your leg. As
the tears come, so do the zombies, and it only takes them
a moment for them to circle around your limp form. From
up above, you hear the voices of the girls screaming, but
you can’t make out if they’re under attack or if they’re
screaming words of encouragement to you to keep
fighting over the sound of the crowd’s anguishes of
hunger and chattering teeth. Your only solace is that with
this many of them here, it won’t take long, and there
probably won’t be enough of you left to reanimate later.

Looking up to Day, you say, “All right, move over
Bruce Willis. We’re coming up.”
From behind you, the older girl says, “I don’t see
how we’re all going to fit in there. Just look, he basically
takes up the whole space.”
Deeply saddened that this girl was actually on track
for graduation, you say, “You do realize that the air ducts
keep going, right?”
Going up on her tip toes, she tries to look in as Day
removes the cover and says, “Of course I do,” in a non
convincing tone.
Stepping on the end table, you hoist yourself up so
that you can see into the vent just as the door to the
teachers’ lounge begins to splinter. Dropping back down,
you look back to find the younger girl right behind you
ready to follow. Being nice, and knowing that you should
be last so that you can put the cover back on once
everyone is inside, you give her a boost and help her into
the duct. Turning back once more, you say, “Are you
coming or what?” to the older girl who is trying to wrestle
with the mummified figure on the love seat. Realizing her
intent, you say, “We’re not bringing him.”
Putting her hands on her hips, and looking as
ridiculous as any five year old with her lower lip trembling,
she says, “Well, I’m not going without him.”
Just then the door to the teachers’ lounge bursts
open, and the three zombies fall into the room, landing on
the floor. You have about one second to make a decision.
Do you grab the girl and try to save her, or do you leave
her?

Whether it’s because you are a saint with a heart of
gold or just really stupid is going to be left to you decide.
In either case, though, you decide to try to save the
annoying love-sick girl whose boyfriend was turned into a
zombie. Hopping off the table, you reach out and grab
her wrist, pulling her towards the vent. At first, it doesn’t
seem like she’s willing to come with you, and you find
yourself seriously thinking about letting go and leaving her
here, but then the self-preservation gene finally kicks in,
and she stops resisting.