Never Slow Dance with a Zombie - By E. Van Lowe Page 0,68

have called for help before she became a zombie."

Just then, six tall and athletic zombies came running around the corner, dressed in Salesian High track uniforms. They stopped when they saw us. There was yearning in their eyes.

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Chapter Thirty four

I recognized the six zombies standing before us. They were all members of the school's track team. Among them was Tyler Moss. Tyler was long and lanky, a top-notch sprinter who'd won several gold medals for the 100-meter dash. He was at one time the most feared sprinter in the state. Now, he was a ferocious-looking zombie.

Taft was smiling again. "I love yanking your chain," he said with a chuckle. "You should have seen the look on your face when you thought you were being rescued."

"Fast zombies," I said. There was no emotion attached to the words. It was an observation.

"Yes," Taft replied. He was gloating. "These kids have been running all their lives. They're my uberzombies. Margot, if it's any consolation, you really were my favorite."

"You can turn off the compliments, Principal Taft. I think when you're about to kill someone a compliment loses its charm."

He thought about this a moment. "I can see that. But you always wanted to feel special, right? Now you're about to get

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turned by uberzombies. That'll put you right at the top of the zombie social order."

The zombies began to moan. Their ravenous eyes crawled over us.

"Let's Hear It for the Boy," by Deniece Williams, pumped through the sound system.

"You can thank me later," Principal Taft continued. "The boys are getting hungry. It may take several hours for you to become a zombie, but don't worTy. You'll be joining your friend soon enough. Now, I've got to get home."

He began inching away from the zombies, who were now focused on me. Then he turned the corner and was gone. I could hear the click-click of his shoes as he hightailed it out of the building.

Slowly, the uberzombies advanced.

"I'm getting so sick of zombies coming after me," I whispered.

The zombies had fanned out into a circle around me, and were closing in. There would be no escape. There was no way I could outrun them.

"So, Tyler Moss, you are looking very buff these days. Been working out?"

His only response was the desire in his eyes.

"Did I ever tell you I had a big ole crush on you freshman year?"

Tyler's lips parted. "Mmmmmm."

"See, that! I thought you had a thing for me. Look, why don't we all go back inside, do the electric slide, and talk about this tomorrow?"

"Mmmmaaah!" Mrs. Mars cried, as she struggled against the ropes. The ropes were loosening. In a moment I'd have her to worry about as well.

It was then I noticed that the zombies stopped advancing

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when Mrs. Mars cried out. Quickly, I got behind her desk and shoved it forward a few inches. The zombies all backed off a few feet.

"Mrs. Mars, you're my ticket out of here."

I pushed her desk a few inches toward the zombies. They began backing down the hall.

"Mmmmaaah!" Mrs. Mars repeated as she continued to struggle.

"I know this isn't a moment we're going to look back on with pride, Mrs. Mars. But I want you to know 1 do possess the character you spoke of in the letter to my mother. You'll see."

I grabbed the top of her chair, tilted it backward, and began dragging her up the corridor away from the uberzombies.

"Don't you boys move!" I called, imitating her gravelly voice as I'd done earlier in the gym. "Or you'll be in my class next semester, same bat time, same bat channel."

The uberzombies were standing still, seemingly befuddled. Then my gaze moved ahead, up the corridor, in search of an escape route. The elevator was at the end of the corridor, but I needed a key to operate it.

"Do you have a key to the elevator on you, Mrs. Mars?"

Her answer was an angry growl.

I stopped dragging, moved back around in front of her, and began rifling through her pockets. I pulled out a large ring of about twenty keys.

"I sure hope one of these is what I'm looking for."

I resumed dragging her, now with purpose, toward the elevator at the end of the corridor. For their part, the uberzombies were beginning to overcome their fear. Cautiously, they again began advancing on us.

We reached the elevator, and systematically I began trying keys in the lock.

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"Grrrowl." Mrs. Mars' chest heaved upward, and the ropes around her went slack.

She was free.

It would be only moments before she