Zombie High Read Online Free Page A

a
possible prank, but the secretary recognizes the urgency
in your voice as genuine and rushes over to the PA system
where she says, “Mr. Jameson to the main entrance. Mr.
Jameson to the main entrance,” before she gets any more
details from you.
    Dropping the microphone back onto the desk, she
comes out from behind her counter and asks, “Who was
attacking him?”
    Attempting to explain, you say, “I don’t know,
some old guy. He came up to the door and knocked.
When Mr. Tibbs opened it, the dude just bit him.”
    “Bit him you say?” asks the secretary. “Okay, you
head back to class, and we’ll make sure he’s okay.”
Trying to explain the problem, and wrapping your
own mind around it at the same time, you speak your
thoughts aloud saying, “But the old man, he didn’t look
right. I think…” and you pause before you say the one
thing that will either be believed and save lives or
dismissed and allow others to fall. Finally, you muster up
and say it, finishing your thought, “I think he was a
zombie.”
The secretary looks you in the face, clearly not
believing you, but at the same time unable to shake the
fact that it’s clear that you believe what you saw. Finally,
she says, “How about you have a seat here, and I’ll find
out exactly what’s going on.”
Looking over to the cracked leather chair where so
many kids have had to sit waiting for their sentencing, you
turn back to her and ask, “You don’t believe me, do you?
You think I’m just making this stuff up.”
“No, I believe that Mr. Tibbs was attacked, but we
both know zombies aren’t real. How about you take a
seat, and when Mr. Jameson comes back, we’ll get some
answers.”
Frustrated that yet again, adults think they know
more than kids just because they’re older, you say, “Fine,
you don’t have to believe me, just come out here and I’ll
show you,” and you reach out and grab the secretary’s
arm dragging her with you as you head back out into the
hall.
As you’re crossing the threshold, the secretary
begins to pull back and you instinctively grip tighter,
intent on bringing her with you no matter what, but then
the hall erupts with screams and she stops pulling against
you and follows you into the hall.
It takes longer than normal to make your way
through the mass of people who have gathered near the
entrance, most of whom seem in shock by what they just
saw. Several girls are crying and holding each other, while
many of the boys stare on with gaping mouths. At one
point, you pass two freshman boys who are talking, and
you hear one of them say, “I told you. They said he used
to wrestle bears in cage fighting matches before he
became a teacher. This proves it!”
Pushing past them, you spill out into the front of
the crowd, and see Mr. Tibbs breathing hard as he stands
over the old man who is now lying on the ground with his
neck twisted around so that his face stares up at the
ceiling while his chest rests on the floor. Looking up, Mr.
Tibbs sees you, the secretary, and the kids, and his eyes go
wide in in astonishment as if he can’t believe that he just
did this. That’s when Mr. Jameson, the school principal,
finally make it through the crowd. To the principal, Mr.
Tibbs says, “It was self-defense. He was biting my arm
and once I got behind him, I just pulled. I had no idea that
would…” but he trails off before finishing.
Raising his voice over the noise of the crowd, Mr.
Jameson yells, “Everyone, please head to your second
hour class. We will be calling the EMTs, and I want
everyone to stay in their classrooms so that they can do
their work.” When only a few people begin to head away
from the scene, Mr. Jameson raises his voice once more
and says, “Please, students, go to your classes,” and
swings his arms forward in an encouraging, move-along,
fashion which helps to get the students moving. Turning
to the secretary. Mr. Jameson says in a lower voice,
“Please go