Zack bolted down the moaning hallway and barged into the nurse’s office. He whipped open the supply cabinet and swiped some gauze and bandages, then snatched a bottle of peroxide. He closed the mirrored cupboard, catching a glimpse of his own reflection…and the reflection of someone behind him.
Or rather, something.
It was Ms. Nancy, the school nurse, plucking things out of her hair and nibbling at her fingertips. Her head turned slowly toward Zack, and the former Nurse Nancy revealed the other side of its face. One eye was encrusted with curdled skin, and the cheek was missing, exposing her gums and jaw muscles.
Zack spun around, ready to battle the zombie nurse. But it just kept muttering gibberish, digging at its grub-infested scalp for little snacks. Zack cocked a wary eyebrow and slammed the door, racing back down the corridor with the first-aid supplies.
Back at the principal’s office, Zack closed the door softly behind him. “How’s he doing?” he asked.
“Not good,” Zoe replied. For the first time all night, she looked scared, too. Her eyes teared up as she looked down at their father. “Daddy?”
Mr. Clarke was sickly pale and sweating profusely. Mrs. Clarke was holding the back of his head. Zack raced over to his father’s side and twisted the cap off the peroxide bottle. Mr. Clarke lifted his head slightly and smiled weakly at his son. Zack smiled back. “It’s gonna be okay, Dad. I promise.” Mr. Clarke’s head dropped to the floor and he went limp.
Zack’s stomach dropped.
Rice came over and put his arm around Zack’s shoulders. “There was nothing we could’ve done.”
“We coulda lopped it off…,” Ozzie said gruffly.
“Shut up, Ozzie!” Zack poured the hydrogen peroxide on the infected gash, and his dad’s knee sizzled with white fizz.
“That’s not gonna work, Zack,” said Zoe.
“Yes, it will!” Zack started to choke up, his eyes shimmery with tears. “Come on, Dad. Come on…come on…”
Zack’s eyes prickled with teardrops. He was so tired, it hurt. All he wanted was to wake up and discover it was all a bad dream. And to have his dad back again. And their house. And his stupid little life.
“Brouharghah!” Mr. Clarke thrashed to a seated position and latched on to Mrs. Clarke’s calf. She howled in pain as her undead husband ripped into her flesh like it was a barbecued turkey leg. Zack’s mom fell to the ground, screaming in pain.
Zack and Zoe pulled Mr. Clarke off their mother and threw their zombie dad to the ground. Ozzie raised the aluminum bat to clobber Zack’s own pops, but Zack grabbed Ozzie by the forearm.
“I’ll do it,” he said. Zack took the bat and wiped his eyes, before bopping his zombie dad on the head.
Rice took off his lacrosse helmet, fit it over Mr. Clarke’s unconscious noggin, and fed him a handful of ginkgo biloba pills. “So he won’t wake up.”
“We need Madison,” Zack moaned.
“What does Madison have to do with anything?” Mrs. Clarke asked. She grimaced, gripping the zombie bite.
“Zoe used to be a zombie until Madison changed her back. Long story,” Zack explained.
“Great, let’s go get her,” Mrs. Clarke said hopefully. “Where is she?”
“Washington, D.C.,” Ozzie said.
“Washington?”
Suddenly, the interior office windows shook. Outside in the hallway, the zombified faculty battered the glass with their heads and fists.
Here we go again, Zack thought. He hopped onto the oak credenza and hoisted up the blinds to the outer windows. The parking lot was right across the narrow side lawn.
Crash! Bang!
Zack looked over his shoulder. The hallway window was now a hideous mural of zombie teachers’ facial features smashed into deranged expressions against the rattling glass.
“How do you open these things?” Zack cried frantically. The window wouldn’t budge.
“Just smash it, man!” Ozzie shouted.
Zack twisted into a batter’s stance and swung as hard as he could. The window shattered into pieces on the floor.
Behind them, the interior window looked like thin ice cracking over a frozen pond. CRASH! A zombie’s fist smashed through the glass. Its flesh peeled back, revealing white meat and bone.
“Come on!” Zack called. “Hurry!” He bashed the remaining glass shards off the outside window frame, and Twinkles leaped off the ledge, landing safely in a bush.
Zoe jumped out next and helped her mother maneuver her chomped leg gingerly over the windowsill.
Then Zack, Rice, and Ozzie lifted Mr. Clarke up and heaved him helmet-first through the window, away from the hollow yowls of the zombified parents and faculty. The boys hopped out last.
Safe outside, Mrs. Clarke hunched over, gasping.
“Put this on, Mom.” Zack held out his football helmet. “I know it’s annoying, but it’s so you won’t bite us.”
“I’m not going to bite you, honey….” Mrs. Clarke looked up. Her face began to mutate with swollen rot. “I’m gonna eat your brains!”
Mrs. Clarke’s neck twisted grotesquely, rotating completely around. Zack jumped back and circled his reanimated mother as she let out a wretched groan. He capped the helmet over her backward head.
Zoe helped Zack lug their moaning zombie mom into the parking lot. Rice and Ozzie followed, dragging Mr. Clarke along the sun-baked cement. As they dragged him over a speed bump, his keys clatter-jangled on the pavement, and Rice bent down to retrieve them.
“Dad works at the bank…,” Zack mused. Rice handed him the keys.
“You wanna rob it?” Zoe asked in perfect seriousness. “Let’s rizz-ole.”
“No,” Zack said, eyeing their zombified parents. “I wanna make a deposit.”
“That’s nice,” Zoe said, snatching the keychain from her brother. “But I’m driving.”