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Ani’s teeth on edge.
    “Just don’t do anything stupid,”
Ani said. Ani knew first-hand that zombism didn’t suppress hormonal stupidity. Bill
going AWOL from the army to see his dead girlfriend was already stupid. Anything
beyond that was a bonus prize.

 
     
    Chapter
    3
     
     
    When
they walked into school that Friday, Superintendent Salter pulled Mr. Benson
aside and murmured through his full gray beard. The kids waited in a single
file line while the conversation heated up. After a few minutes of violent
gestures and red faces, Mr. Benson led them into the auditorium.
    The stained paint on the former gymnasium walls
was faded beige, the blue upholstery on the seats was torn and ragged and
repaired with gaffers tape—Ani remembered it well. A small, smiling Asian man
in an expensive suit stood near a laptop hooked up to the projector. Mr. Clark—Ani
thought it was Mr. Clark—stood in the back, visor down, pilot light glowing
blue.
    Teah led them into the third row, where they sat. Ani
pulled out her cell phone and texted her mom:  “WTF?”
    The house lights dimmed, and the projector
displayed a logo of a giant K circled by a Chinese dragon. The guy in the suit
spoke; his accent was all New Jersey. “Okay, kids, how you doing? My name’s Jim
Chang, call me Jim, and I’m here to talk to you about some opportunities with
Klinecorps Pharmaceuticals. Have you heard of us?”
    Kyle yelled, “NO,” while Ani checked her phone.
    The message from her mom read, “?” She was about
to reply when it buzzed again.
    “WHERE ARE YOU?”
    Ani typed in A-U-D and hit “Send.”
    The guy babbled about the history of the company. Ani
put in an ear bud and offered the other to Teah. Teah took it, so Ani swapped
Chopin for Rihanna and cranked the volume.
    A few minutes later the door slammed open and Mr. Benson
leaped to his feet. He settled back as Dr. Romero stalked through, face red and
eyes ablaze. She ignored Jim and looked at Superintendent Salter.
    “This is unacceptable.”
    Ani killed the volume on the iPod.
    Mr. Salter raised his hands in what he probably
thought was a calming manner but to Ani looked patronizing. “Now, Sarah, you
don’t—”
    She cut him off. “Mr. Benson, shut off the projector.”
She pointed at Jim. “Then escort this man off the property. If he resists, use whatever
force is necessary.” Mr. Benson sauntered forward, unplugged the projector, and
slammed the laptop shut far harder than he had to. “And confiscate that laptop.”
    Mr. Salter’s face was red as Dr. Romero’s. “You
don’t have the authority—”
    “Shut up,” she said. Joe gasped in astonishment. Lydia
cringed. “I don’t work for you or for this district. I work for the United
States government. There will be no changes in routine or protocol without my
explicit approval and the consent of the board. After I’ve examined the intent
of this representative,” she jerked her head at Jim, “I’ll make a full report
to the board; and advised by the friendly lawyers at the Department of Defense,
they can decide what authority I do and don’t have in this situation. Meantime,
the men with the weapons take orders from me.”
    Mr. Salter opened his mouth to reply, then closed
it. Behind Dr. Romero, Dr. Banerjee stepped into the room. His lush tone and faint
Indian accent sounded charming. “Is there a problem?” Ani had never known him
to raise his voice.
    Dr. Romero stepped to the side. “Oh, good, Rishi.
I’m sure Superintendent Salter will explain to you what a representative of
Kleincorps Pharmaceutical is doing giving a presentation to our students
without our or their parents’ consent.”
    Mr. Benson had stopped Jim mid-march. Dr. Banerjee
nodded, and Mr. Benson shoved Jim—no longer smiling—toward the door. Jim gave Ani's
mom a black look and stalked out. “Mr. Clark,” Dr. Banerjee said without
turning around, “escort the children to their classroom.”
    “Yes, Colonel.” He herded them