My Teacher is a Zombie (Supernatural Learning Book 1) (4 page)

"I don't think this is right. I really don't."

William reached down and picked up the machete and again held it out to Stanley. "It's not a matter of if you want to. It's a matter of you are the only one here capable of doing the deed. I can't do it. Polly's a girl."

"Hey!" Polly snapped.

"It really is up to you and Bert to take care of this."

The black blade didn't reflect any light, almost as if it was intended to be used in the dark. The biggest blade he'd ever held was a steak knife and he'd almost cut his finger off using it the last time. He wasn't good with blades.

"How do we know she's still in there?" he asked, hoping to delay as long as possible.

"Well, the key is still in the lock and it doesn't appear the door has been opened." William pointed at the door with the machete. "There's no other way in or out. She must still be in there."

"Have you heard any noises from inside?" Bert asked. "I mean, maybe we just don't know of any other way in or out. Or, or, or maybe she's already dead."

Shaking his head, William said, "Of course she's dead. I already told you she's a zombie. There's no other possible reason for her to be like this."

Stanley took the machete. There really was no other course, was there? If she was a zombie, they needed to take care of her. They couldn't call the police or they'd be locked up for being crazy to think something like that. There wasn't anyone they could call. They just needed to deal with the situation and hope for the best.

William turned toward the door and produced a cordless drill from somewhere in his wheelchair. He seemed to have an entire arsenal of weapons and tools. After a few minutes of drilling he had punched through the lock.

"Okay, Bert, Stanley, are you ready?"

The boys nodded.

"Polly?"

"I'm ready." She held up her cell phone.

"She's going to film this?"

"In case anyone ever asks, we need to have evidence that she's a zombie. Now I'm going to open the door on the count of three. One, two..."

Stanley never heard three. His ears throbbed. His vision blurred. He screamed and ran into the room flailing the machete in all directions as Bert swung the bat. Somehow they managed to avoid killing each other. Unfortunately they also avoided killing anything else.

The classroom had been torn asunder. Desks, papers, charts, everything lay in disarray. Turning on the lights showed the walls had grown a gray-green fungus and the entire room smelled like putrid flesh.

"I think she's gone," Stanley said, putting a hand over his mouth to try and block as much of the smell as he could.

"That's not possible. She has to be in here. The room had been sealed." William's voice quavered as he spoke.

"No it's not. Look!" Polly pointed to the door at the back of the classroom.

"How could I be so stupid?" William rolled to the back of the room.

Stanley looked at the door. "Where does that go?"

"It's an old doorway. I've seen this on blueprints of the school. I had assumed it was locked and no longer used. This is a storeroom that goes between classrooms."

The four of them entered the storage room. It certainly didn't look used. Multiple copies of old text books sat stacked next to even older audio/visual equipment. The door going to the adjoining classroom had been smashed open.

"Who's classroom is that?" Stanley asked.

"That's Mr. Burstein's classroom." Polly pointed to Mr. Burstein on the floor next to the door.

"He must have heard the ruckus coming from the storage room and opened the door."

This time Stanley did take a moment to throw up. They weren't just dealing with a sick teacher any more. They were dealing with a killer. They were following the killer's trail. What would happen when they found it?

Mr. Burstein groaned. Not a groan of pain or even none of suffering. A groan of hunger. A groan of the dead wanting flesh. Even though his arm had been ripped off, a large pool of blood sat under his body, he still got up. Just like Mrs. Applebaum, his skin looked gray and a little saggy. His eyes were white and yellowish goo dribbled from his mouth.

"Stanley, quick! Cut off his head." William made a motion of severing the neck.

He couldn't. He wasn't a killer. He'd never harmed anything in his life. Well, he'd killed his share of flies and there was that time he and Bert spent an afternoon killing ants with a magnifying glass, but this was different. Stanley wanted to cry.

"Go!" Bert yelled. "I'm right behind you."

Stanley, tears in his eyes, ran forward with the machete and swung at Mr. Burstein. He missed and spun around. A hand grabbed his shoulder. He squealed and smacked him in the side of the head with the flat of the blade. The teacher's head rocked to the side, but he kept coming at Stanley.

Stanley took a moment to make sure he held the blade properly and swung, hitting Mr. Burstein directly in the neck. The blade didn't go all the way through. Stanley expected blood to come forth, but nothing happened. It only made Mr. Burstein come at him faster.

Drawing the blade out, Stanley prepared to swing again. He could hear his classmates behind him, but he didn't know if they were cheering for him or screaming in fear. He swung again and this time the head came off. Stanley dropped the blade as he watched the head hit the ground.

A hand grabbed his shoulder. At first he thought it might be Bert, but the hand gripped tighter and pulled him. The teacher's hand, his body, it still moved.

"Someone do something!"

"Bert, smash the head. Destroying the brain is the only way." William pointed at the head.

Bert kicked a desk over and smiled. "I always wanted to do that."

"Bert!"

The bat rose and fell several times before the hand on Stanley's shoulder finally released. Both Bert and Stanley had trouble catching their breath as they looked at the now dead Mr. Burstein. Polly pushed William's chair into the room and they all looked silently at the headless body on the floor.

A high pitched scream broke the silence. All heads turned to see Bert's younger sister in the doorway. Bert ran to her side and cupped his hand over her mouth.

"Keep quiet! We don't know who's still here."

It took several moments before she calmed down enough for Bert to release his hand. When he did she started crying.

"Why did you kill my teacher?"

The group tried to explain to her what had happened and at the same time, try to keep her calm. As they did, they escorted her out of the classroom and toward the common area.

"...and how did you get here in the first place? You're supposed to be at home!"

"But, Bert, I overheard you and Stanley talking and I knew you were coming here, I just didn't know why. I had to come and find out what you were doing. Really, I didn't know you were doing something like this"

"Zita, how did you get here?"

"Oh come on, Stanley. I've been running since I was six. It's only a few miles from the house. I was here before the two of you showed up. I just waited to come in and see what you were up to. I mean, seriously? Mr. Burstein was a zombie?"

William rolled forward. "He was turned when Mrs. Applebaum killed him. We need to locate her and stop her."

"Where could she be going?" Polly asked.

As William tapped on his tablet, Stanley looked at the ground. A small trail of blood went from the open classroom door and went around the common area. It looked as if Mrs. Applebaum wandered all over, but where did she go?

"I think I know where she went," William said, holding up his tablet.

Stanley kept following the meandering blood trail. There were gobs of meat in some spots and footprints in others, but everything kept going in mostly the same direction.

"Unless I miss my guess, all documentation says that a zombie would head toward a heavily populated area in search of food. It must be headed downtown."

"That kind of makes sense. There are a lot of people downtown."

"We need to get going. Polly, come on. Give me a push."

Bert looked over at Stanley. "Where are you going? We need to get to downtown. It's going to be a long walk."

"Don't worry. We're after a zombie. She'll be moving slowly. We've got plenty of time to catch up to her."

"Hold on, guys. I don't think Mrs. Applebaum is headed downtown," Stanley said.

"All my research says she's headed to a populated area. She has to be going downtown. Where else could she be going?"

"I think she went to the high school."

"Oh really? And just what makes you think that? Do you think she suddenly got a promotion?" Polly asked.

"No. I think she went there because of the football game." Stanley pointed over the treetops toward the setting sun. The lights at the football field had just turned on. "The game starts in about twenty minutes. She might be a zombie, but I'll bet that somewhere in her brain she knew about the game and she's on her way there right now."

William looked at his tablet and started typing furiously. He looked up and stared at Stanley. "I hate to admit it, but I think he's right. We'd better get going. There isn't too much time and if we don't stop her she could turn half the people there before we have a chance to stop her."

Chapter 6

Except for Zita, they had taken turns pushing and pulling William along the torn path Mrs. Applebaum left through the woods on her way to the high school. There were a couple of times they thought they might not be on the right path as she didn't exactly go in a straight line to the school, but then they'd find a piece of her torn house dress. Even stained and torn it was unmistakable. It was nearly seven and the noise from the cheering crowd had grown louder with each step.

The sun had nearly disappeared and the lights from the football field gave them a great direction to head. The path Mrs. Applebaum took no longer meandered, but now made a direct cut to the field. Fortunately the ground stayed firm and pushing William became easier. When the woods finally broke, they found themselves on the far end of the baseball field and on the wrong side of the fence.

"Where is she?" Polly asked, looking across the dim field toward the football field.

The lights made it difficult to see all the way across. She could be in the shadow of the bleachers. She could be under the bleachers. She could be anywhere.

"There's no hole in the fence," William pointed out. "She must have gone around."

Stanley looked at the machete. He'd had to cut their way through some of the underbrush as they moved through the woods, but there was still gore on it from cutting off Mr. Burstein's head. It was nothing compared to the gore on the baseball bat Bert held.

"How did this happen?" Stanley asked in almost a whisper.

"Near as I can tell, Mrs. Applebaum died a couple days ago. Not sure of the cause and I'm not sure we'll ever know. From what I've read, she must have come in contact with some sort of zombie virus. If she kills anyone, they'll also become zombies and we need to stop that from happening."

"How did you get so smart, Bill?" Polly asked.

"That's not important. Let's move. We need to stay together." William pointed off to the right.

Bert took up pushing William, setting the bat across the wheelchair's handles. The dirt around the baseball field was a little rocky, but hard packed enough that they made good time. Unfortunately it was too dark to look for signs or Mrs. Applebaum's progress. Even if she'd gone around the other way, they'd run into her sooner or later.

The only sounds from the crowd were cheering and whistling. The announcer called out the players' numbers and names. If Mrs. Applebaum had made it there, people would be screaming and yelling.

Or would they?

Would they even suspect she was a zombie? They'd followed her here and if she was going to do something bad, they needed to get people out of there. Someone was going to have to get to the announcer's booth and get people to go.

"Hold on a second, guys. How are we going to keep her from hurting people and beyond that, how are we going to convince people that she's a zombie before or after we kill her? I mean, we're not just going to go over there and whack her head off and get pats on the back."

"Stanley's got a point. I mean, Mr. Burstein was alone. There wasn't anyone there to stop us. There's a lot of people over there. What are we going to do?"

"Not only that, we need to get those people out of there," Stanley added.

William looked down at his tablet and typed. He shook his head, typed some more, and looked at the rest of them. "I don't know."

This had been the first time Stanley had ever heard William say those words. If he didn't know what to do, who would know what to do?

"Why don't we set off the fire alarm at the school?" Zita asked.

Immediately William began typing on his tablet. "I think I can get into the school's systems and set off the alarm. That'll bring the fire department and probably the police department. Just one second. Yes. I'm in. But let's hold off on setting off the alarm until we find Mrs. Applebaum. Once we find her, we'll set off the alarm. That should cause enough confusion that our activities will go unnoticed."