Never Slow Dance with a Zombie - By E. Van Lowe Page 0,27

of the jock zombies moving away. I zeroed in on Dirk. The ripped varsity jacket now seemed a cool, hip fashion statement. His complexion wasn't hideous at all, but a deep, swarthy, sexy green. And his eyes weren't crimson, they were a gorgeous shade of ruby red.

I will have a boyfriend.

I took off after Dirk at a dead run, leaving the slow-moving zombies from the trophy case flailing at me as I zipped by. My plan? I didn't have one. My newfound status at school had gone to my head. I felt invincible. I was running toward a pack of zombies, headed into danger, and I didn't care. I had almost everything I'd ever wanted, and now my final desire was in my sight.

I will have a boyfriend.

I sped up the corridor toward Dirk and the zombies infused with the determination to have it all: popularity, parties, winter queen, and yes ... a boyfriend.

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Chapter Fifteen

A few years ago, when I was thirteen and my brother Theo eight, my father got the bright idea that the four of us should go on an exciting, fun-filled family vacation. Jamaica, you ask? Paris? Hawaii? Disney World? Don't be silly. While those are places any normal parent might find exciting, my father chose a week-long cattle drive vacation in Wyoming.

"Wow!" Theo exclaimed as Dad popped the sales video into the VCR. Yes, you heard me, V-C-R. Don't ask. "Look!" Theo shrieked when horses and cows appeared on the screen. "That one has poop hanging out of its butt. That is so cool."

"Well, it's so something," I said, looking on in horror. "If I'm not a laughingstock at school yet, I'm sure this is just the thing I need to push me over the top."

For thirty long minutes, we watched families ride horses, herd cattle, eat grotesque-looking meals out of tin plates, and sleep in beds with blankets that appeared to be made of burlap. When the torturous video was finally over I asked my parents to

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do me a giant favor and murder me in my sleep. I was as good as dead if we went on that trip. Mercifully, my request put an end to the idea of any family vacation in the Johnson household.

Now, however, as I ran toward the jock zombies, something from that video played back in my mind:

When herding cattle you sometimes need to cut a calf off from the herd.

Suddenly I was grateful I hadn't walked out on the video or yanked it from the VCR and set it on fire. There was actually something instructional in that dumb sales video, and 1 was about to put it to use.

The bell for fourth period had just rung, and sense memory sent most of the zombies in the corridor lumbering off to class. Only the trophy case zombies following me and the jocks in front of me remained.

"Hey, zombies!" I called as I neared the jocks. The jock zombies slowly turned, their hungry eyes falling on me. Great, I thought. I've got their attention. Ignoring the fact that I was surrounded, I stood my ground as the zombies in front of and behind slowly closed in.

"That's it, fellas. Come to Mama."

When the two groups were practically in striking distance I ducked into the girls' bathroom to my right, making sure I didn't move too quickly. Cutting--as I'd learned in the cattle drive video--was a delicate maneuver.

The first part of the maneuver was to herd the cattle/zombies into a pen. I chose the large handicap stall in the girls' bathroom as my pen. I headed for the stall, making certain I didn't move too quickly. I needed to be just a few steps ahead of the slow-moving zombies. Once inside the stall, however, I moved at breakneck speed, hopping onto the commode,

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boosting myself up and quickly over the side, making sure I was out before the zombies started in.

The sluggish zombies began entering the stall.

I zombie walked back around to the entrance of the stall, joining the pack, pretending to be one of them pushing to get at me. But in truth, I was shoving zombies into the stall, making certain Dirk wasn't one of the zombies going in. Then, after all the zombies but Dirk were in, I slammed shut the stall door, jamming it with a wad of chewing gum. The zombies inside were too busy pushing forward to realize their escape route was behind them.

I turned to Dirk, who had successfully been cut from the pack. A soft