Suburban Zombie High Trilogy: Suburban Zombie High

By Jeremy Flagg

3 Books. 800+ pages of zombie infestations and over-the-top hillarity.

 

The zombie apocalypse may be the only thing worse than a geometry pop quiz…

 

Boxford High pranksters cause a chemistry lab to go wrong and students are forced to face something far worse than S.A.T.'s and cafeteria lunches – an infection that turns students into zombies scouring the halls for survivors.

 

A group of unlikely companions; an artistic goth, star-athlete jock, disgruntled loner, would-be marine, sassy cheerleader, and angry Asian, must fend off the living dead. As they fight through locker rooms and dance their way across the theater, they will find surviving zombies is more complicated than puberty.

 

Will they be able to put aside their differences to fend off the zombie apocalypse before the infection reaches beyond the walls of their suburban high school.

The Suburban Zombie High Trilogy includes three fast-paced zombie novels and three unreleased short stories. If you're a fan of zombies, corporate conspiracies, and overly dramatic teens, then you'll love this satire of the zombie genre.

 

Buy the box set today and watch average teenagers transform into zombie slayers!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brave New Words
• Release date: Dec 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223993032

Jeremy Flagg

Jeremy Flagg is the creator of the dystopian superhero universe, CHILDREN OF NOSTRADAMUS. Taking his love of pop culture and comic books, he focuses on fast paced, action packed novels with complex characters and contemporary themes. He continues developing the universe with the Journal of Madison Walker, an ongoing serial set two hundred years in the future. Jeremy spends most of his time at his desk writing snarky books. When he gets a moment away from writing, he binges too much Netflix and Hulu and reads too many comic books. Jeremy, a Maine native, resides in Charlotte, North Carolina and can be found in local coffee shops pounding away at the keyboard.

Book preview

TUESDAY

PERIOD 1

Olivia held

the umbrella close to her head in an effort to keep her hair dry. The rain beating on the pavement roared loud enough to drown out the sound of her wedge-heels clacking on the walkway. Walking into the parking lot, she turned around to take in the entirety of the school.

The campus stretched for over half a mile from end to end. After much searching, she decided that this was the spot. The side of her lips curved up as she watched the two other members of her group walk towards her without umbrellas. She felt sorry for the girl, a lowly junior whose definition of fashion was black on black with an accent of black. She was horribly awkward; a hopeless cause if Olivia had ever seen one.

The boy was another story altogether; he was an adorable freshman. Well, adorable because his elder brother was the hottest thing to ever walk through the hallways. This poor boy’s brother was a captain on the football team, founder of Quilts for Love, a volunteer at the Red Cross, and the assistant store manager of Subway. He was going places, and she longed to be his trophy girlfriend.

Shawn, hurry up! My shoes are getting wet. Her voice cut through the rain like a dagger.

Why the hell did we come out here in the pouring rain Olivia? Mr. Patrick said to make our video inside. Ugh, Cadence, the goth.

Are you worried your mascara is going to run? Olivia snapped. She examined the girl’s overabundance of dark makeup. You’d be so cute with a makeover. Seriously, you should let me and the girls put some sparkle into your not so sunny disposition.

First cheerloser to touch me dies, Olivia, Cadence snapped, so why the hell are we out here in the rain?

I spent all day yesterday finding the best location with the best back drop. This is the spot, Olivia said with certainty.

She caught Shawn rolling his eyes at her. For what?

Olivia took a deep breath and smiled. The background is perfect for my outfit, and the green of the football turf will compliment my eyes and provide a respectable canvas for me to pose in front of.

Cadence rolled her eyes until they twitched. You’re a sad, terribly sad girl Olivia. Let’s get this over with and go back in.

Shawn put the video camera on his shoulder and took off the lens, Did you work on your lines, Olivia?

Of course, this is so my thing. I’m a natural when you turn on the camera, just make sure you keep me centered in the frame.

Cadence put on a headset and held out the boom microphone. I think we’re all set. Don’t screw up this one Olivia, she said. Olivia assumed the girl was referring to their less than stellar Failed Teacher Relationships expose last semester.

Cadence, don’t you need to go sit in a corner and cry while you write bad poetry?

You make me cry, Olivia.

Shawn giggled. We’ve been rolling guys.

Olivia’s back immediately straightened as she shook her face. The moment she stopped, she broke out the million dollar smile. The facade was a face only a cheerleader was capable of mustering on cue. "My name is Olivia, and I’m here to discuss the cool parts of Boxford High School, and why this is totally the place to be."

Cadence shook her head. Cadence worked through the impending sneer and overcame her disgust. She never lost her place. At Boxford, we have nearly two thousand students that love this school. We learn stuff at our new state-of-the-art campus that was built three years ago. It’s way better than the one we had my freshman year. The cafeteria was nasty, not that you would ever eat there, but it was a good place to meet up with the cheer squad and discuss my new improvements to our routines.

Olivia started to walk, twirling her umbrella. She turned sideways and waved her arm out to the side, gesturing to the front of the school. Boxford contains a very diverse population of students as well. We have a lot of Asians from Asia and a few black kids too, but they’re not from Asia. We also have lots of cliques, where even the scary Goth kids can make friends.

Olivia, you’re daft.

Olivia stomped her foot down, splashing water at Cadence. Shut up, before I tell the counselors I caught you sniffing Sharpies, devil spawn.

Olivia took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the smile returned. She motioned to the football field up the hill. Sports are huge at Boxford, especially football. Every Friday night you can find the whole town here, watching our Patriots kick butt. If you’re popular, you’d be over there near those trees making out during the game. If you’re really popular, you’re on the field kicking a ball, or cheering for the team.

Did I forget anything guys? Olivia whined.

Olivia, you’re such an airhead. They were both against her. Shawn couldn’t hide his smile, and the moody stain of black put forth every effort to ruin her award winning performance.

Cadence you’re just jealous of how popular I am.

Cadence lowered the boom microphone and used the end to jab at Olivia’s clear plastic umbrella, knocking it from her hands. Whoops.

Olivia shrieked as the cold water splashed her face. Cadence! You are an evil, evil girl. She continued, screaming, Your soul is darker than your bad makeup! She wiped her eyes, trying to not smudge her flawless makeup. Grabbing her umbrella, she stormed off towards the school, leaving her two companions in the downpour.

Cadence could feel

the makeup running down her cheeks. She wondered if it was getting on her sweater. As she looked down, she caught Shawn staring at her chest.

Shawn, she said gesturing back to her face.

He cleared his throat. Oh, he responded, Are we done yet?

Yeah, we’re done, the sound of defeat resonated in her voice.

They walked across the parking lot, looking at the cars coming in, dropping off late students. Cadence listened to squealing tires as one student flew into the parking lot, skidding around a corner and stopping in a teacher’s parking spot. She knew from the insignia on the back of the silver BMW that it was none other than Jacob, star quarterback, basketball star, National Honor student, and manager of Subway, the guy everybody was in love with.

I hate your brother.

Then stop staring.

She gawked as Jacob leaned into his car to grab his backpack. She couldn’t help but notice his jeans were tight, really tight, showing off his well-sculpted legs and chiseled butt. He turned around and struck a quick pose, flashing a smile that twinkled even in the overcast weather. Jacob gave his brother a quick wave and headed towards the entrance.

What did you say? she mumbled.

Only a thirty-second delay, Shawn mused, you can’t be completely infatuated with him.

I can’t believe you’re his brother. Don’t you get tired of living in his shadow?

Shawn flapped his hand, batting the comment away. Are you serious? Jacob graduates this year. After that, I’ll be the hot guy everybody is dying to be with. Check it out ladies, a new stud is in town.

Cadence couldn’t help but smile at his warped ego. He measured in at half-a-foot shorter than his brother, twenty pounds heavier and more likely to travel down a road of geekdom and tabletop gaming. All of a sudden she felt a bit of kinship with the lifelong midget virgin. Careful Boxford, new stud in town, she joked following him.

She put her arm around his shoulders as they walked across the parking lot. His hand wrapped around her waist and slowly slipped lower. North of the border, she said. The hand froze. She looked down at him. You’re not a stud yet.

They reached the entrance to the school, leaving puddles down the hall as they squeezed out of their sopping jackets. At the door to their class, they hesitated.

Then Shawn stated the obvious. We’re going to fail.

She nodded in agreement. I hate her.

You hate everybody, he said as he opened the door.

Cadence frowned as their teacher, Mr. Patrick, greeted them, tapping his watch. The man had a thing about punctuality bordering on the supernatural. She saw him arrive at school at the same time every day, and eat lunch at the same time every day. Hell, she thought, she was able to set her watch by his daily bathroom trips. Sorry, Mr. Patrick.

Cadence liked the class Media and Today, as did most of the students. Rumors had it, nobody ever failed his class, and yet somehow, by some miracle, she and her group were getting close to being the first. It didn’t bother her. Art school would overlook the grade. Her portfolio would get her into an outstanding program, and this class was only in her schedule to kill time. She hoped that Olivia faced the same fatal grading; an F would be worth it to bring down the top cheerloser.

It’s so nice of you to join us, Mr. Patrick said, delighted by his own sarcasm. Have a seat. We’re going to watch a high school promotional tape from one of last year’s best groups. Take note at how they use the scenery to help strengthen their statements. I think some of you will learn from this.

The elder man sat at his desk, pressed a button on his computer, and the projector’s blue screen came to life. He glanced at the screen, to the clock, then his watch again, adjusting one of the small dials. His eyes widened as Olivia, the most tiring of all students, ran into the class in her cheering uniform, striking a pose before sitting in her chair.

Cadence watched as the promotion began, envious of whoever was in this group. It became evident they did a much better job than her own team. The promotional video contained beautiful shots of the school, background music, and unlike hers, sunlight... Oh, and no cheerleaders from hell. Death wasn’t an option, despite wanting to curl into a ball and die. She’d save it for when she got to her advanced placement painting class. This emotional turmoil would influence the final piece for her portfolio. She sank lower in her chair as the video continued.

Welcome to Boxford High, a magnificent school filled with students brimming over with talent and potential. For the next few minutes, we’re going to show you why Boxford is a top-notch school.

The cameraman walks through the front doors of the school into the central lobby and looks to the main office, staff working at their desks. The cameraman waits until each of the staff looks up and waves to the camera. Seconds later, the bell rings and the lobby erupts into an explosion of student activity.

At Boxford High, we host a variety of students from all over the world, a real melting pot. But all students have one thing in common: their desire to learn.

The image of students in the hallway fades to black. As it fades back in, students are wearing goggles and rubber gloves, hunched over black lab tables. A student enters the picture holding a beaker and sets it into the holder, as another student prepares to mix it with the contents of another test tube.

Our facilities are state-of-the-art and on the cutting edge. Our chemistry lab is a prime example of students learning beyond textbooks. Students at BHS work hard to keep their grades up, but despite the rigorous learning, they manage to have fun along the way.

Cue the boy who mixes the test tube with the beaker; quickly the fluids bubble and shoot into the air. The foam lands on the table and continues to fizzle as the teacher comes into the background of the shot. Guys, I told you, he says with a fake scowl, no explosions today!

The image fades away and turns into a slide show of the school, complete with voice-over. Scenes dance across the screen: the pool, the garden behind the school, the metal and wood shop, the computer labs and a new rock wall in the gym.

Thanks for visiting Boxford High School and I hope you consider sending your student to our phenomenal institution. There is no disappointment when you’re dealing with the best.

Cadence blinked as the screen darkened. She could barely hold in the bile building in the back of her throat. Sure, Boxford was a top tier school, but nobody seemed to mention the student’s mental breakdowns, the high suicide rates, and even their very own attempted school shooting. Other than that, sure, it was spiffy.

Mr. Patrick moved to the front of the room, crossed his hands over his belt, and waited a few moments while the students stared blankly at him. He put on his charming smile. Have a magnificent morning everybody.

With a quick glance at the clock, the bell rang right on cue.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Cadence grabbed her black messenger bag, threw it over her shoulder, and shuffled out of the room like the rest of the mindless zombies.

The hallways: the bane of every student’s existence. They were a place to mingle and socialize; sometimes she would meet with her friend for a quick recollection of how much last period sucked, but everybody agreed the traffic of human bodies was horrendous.

The hallways could be compared to a traffic jam; somewhere high overhead there would be a helicopter explaining how a freshman had stalled the halls. Or worse yet, the popular kids and their annoying habit of stopping so they could slap one another a high-five; often smacking several other students in the process. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t always a terrible thing, she thought. However, with a school over half a mile from end to end, there was never any way to get to class on time. She pushed and fought, but she felt as if there were hands clawing at her; pulling her backwards into the crowd.

Forget the promo, she mused, welcome to Boxford, where we push, shove, grab and tug as if we’re fighting for our lives.

She already knew there was no way she’d make it to the end of the building for her next class. She was alright with that. Math was not one of her preferred subjects, and the teacher was lame. He’d ask if anybody had an answer, wait an obnoxiously long time, and still call on somebody. Lame. Lame. Lame.

She put her back against the wall and started to slide down the corridor, avoiding some of the crowd. This technique worked as a freshman, but with the increased student enrollment, even the wall space was limited. As she came to a doorway, a student hip-checked her, tossing her into the doorway at breakneck speed.

Cadence felt like she was flying as she braced for the floor. She stopped. The heavens smiled on her and a divine force kept her from falling to the Earth. She realized that the man that should be God was godly indeed, Jacob, her one true unrequited love.

Hey there, he said in his oh-so-savvy voice, be careful out there.

He lifted her back to her feet, but kept his hands out, waiting for her to fall back into his arms. Something he had grown accustomed to when dealing with Boxford females. Hey, you going to be okay?

She was wet; she was cold, and her clothes were sloshing when she walked. None of this mattered, he was talking to her. The co-captain of track, the head of the school newspaper, the editor of the yearbook, and the manager of Subway had talked to her. She felt the black make-up working its way down her eyes. Cold water ran down the crack of her butt, but in her heart, Cadence wanted to break into song. He had talked to her.

She was in love and in the back of her mind, she hated it. Sort of.

PERIOD 2

Do you think she’s a lesbian?

The teacher? You think she digs women?

Yeah, she’s got that ‘I watch golf’ vibe to her.

Nah.

Really?

Why would you think she was into women?

She’s a gym teacher, what more evidence do you need?

But aren’t lesbians mannish?

Nah, she probably a lipstick lesbian.

Hot.

Yeah, real hot.

You think she’d do me?

No, but she’d do your mom.

Min hated gym.

Guidance had placed her in this class, determined to help her work on her, anger issues. Apparently, destroying teenage boys at sports should make her feel better. It didn’t.

Today guys, the teacher said with enthusiasm, we’re going to be trying something exotic. The first part of class we’re going to be trying some alternative methods of exercise. If you’re not huge fans, we can start up a game of speedball to get the blood pumping.

Mrs. Marcotte, can’t we just play speedball? asked one kid.

We might get to some speedball, but I want to bring a taste of Eastern education into class today, she said, unzipping her sports jacket. The woman tossed the well-worn garment onto the floor and rubbed her hands together for a moment. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and repeated.

Min recognized the pattern as the woman’s stance shifted, one foot behind the other. She brought her hands up in a slow, graceful movement. Feet shifting again, she brought her arms down across her chest. Min was impressed with the woman’s form, her ability to blend the deadly martial arts with the grace of a dancer. Marcotte’s breathing was quiet, and her muscles stretched in a fluid-like motion from one movement to the next.

T’ai Chi?

Do you know the art form, Min? she asked, continuing the dance.

Grandfather studied T’ai Chi and taught it to me when I was little.

So what’s the goal of T’ai Chi? Mrs. Marcotte asked. The woman relaxed her muscles and came to a stop. The faces of the other students showed their complete and utter bewilderment.

My father says it’s the fusion of the body and the mind working in perfect harmony, Min answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

Testing your will is also an acceptable answer, replied Mrs. Marcotte.

Min turned to see the glazed over looks of her fellow classmates. The boys in her class were dumb; their mouths still open. They gasped in an attempt to get air in while drool poured out of their chauvinistic mouths. Min thought about how her grandfather would have taken his bamboo cane and smacked them on their shins for being rude.

Hey, Mrs. Marcotte, no offense, Jacob piped in giving her a toothy smile, I don’t see how this is exercise. It’s just really slow dancing.

Min turned to him and poked him in the arm. T’ai Chi is an ancient martial art, show some respect, cracker.

Jacob flashed her the legendary smile in an attempt to charm her. Hey, calm down Min. His face went back to normal, even fearful as she refused to be swept away by his perfect teeth. She poked him again in the chest with two fingers.

Jacob winced in pain. She knew the pain spread through his body, radiating outward from the pressure point in his chest. Min moved, grabbing his arm in a lightning fast motion. She used his weight to launch him over her shoulder. He flew through the air, his head smacking off the gym floor. Min admired her work as he groaned loudly enough for the whole class to hear.

Min took a deep breath, holding her hands pressed together in front of her. With a slight bow, she stepped back and let her body relax. I am calm like a running river.

Everybody stared at her with mouths gaping, terrified. Wait, said one boy, rivers aren’t calm.

Min shot him a dirty look through squinting eyes. You’re not Asian, she said without emotion, you don’t understand. She pointed in his direction, her two fingers outstretched. He stepped away from her.

Min bent down next to Jacob’s heaving body. The rest of the school found him irresistible, lulled in by his good looks. She saw through his perfectly chiseled chin, just another boy toy for her to destroy. Don’t fuck with rice power. Once I’m done kicking your ass, I’ll run you down with my Honda.

Mrs. Marcotte came over and grabbed Min by the shoulders. The gym teacher picked up the petite Asian and set her aside as if she weighed nothing, I think we might all be safer if we just play speedball for today. Tomorrow we’ll try some relaxing meditation, she said. She looked at Min as she spoke, it should help work on our anger problems.

Victor, can you help Jacob down to the Nurse’s Office, asked Mrs. Marcotte in a sympathetic voice, let her know he mouthed off to Min. They know the routine.

Victor stepped forward from the rest of the class, sporting a black wife beater and military fatigues. Yes, ma’am. He bent over and lifted Jacob, tossing the sports god onto his broad shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

The rest of you split up into teams, screamed Mrs. Marcotte, last one picked go run some laps for being weak.

She looked at Min, standing with her arms crossed, waiting for the oncoming punishment. And Min, you and I need to have a little talk about your attitude problem.

What attitude, Mrs. Marcotte?

They waited until the two-dozen kids ran out onto the basketball court in their ridiculous gym clothes. Min watched as two of the bigger boys fought over who was going to pick the teams. Gym class resembled monkeys fighting for dominance on the Discovery Channel.

Rodney and Tom, stop fighting or I’ll kick your asses.

Mrs. Marcotte escorted Min to the side of the court and sat down on the bleachers. Min, you know administration dislikes when you beat the snot out of the boys in class.

Why do you care? You’re a lesbian. You hate men.

The teacher smacked her palm against Min’s forehead. Min, I am not a lesbian.

That’s what Rodney said last week. He said you’re a man-hater and that Tom couldn’t get you in the sack.

The teacher’s face turned several shades of red. Rodney and Tom, she barked, 100 laps.

In unison, But Mrs. Marcotte--

Start running, or I let Min break your legs, you sniveling little brats.

Mrs. Marcotte turned back to Min, her voice gentle again. Now Min, I don’t hate men, I just think they’re the weaker sex.

Of course.

But that doesn’t mean we can throw them around like rag dolls. I’m proud you can stand up for yourself. She took a deep breath. But please, keep your martial arts to a minimum on school grounds.

Yes, Mrs. Marcotte.

Mrs. Marcotte stood. Tom and Rodney, pick up the pace or I’ll start chasing you myself, and when I catch you, nobody will hear you scream!

Min watched as Mrs. Marcotte walked away; her tear away pants making that horrific sound that only polyester and vinyl can. However, she noted, they did make the teacher’s ass look good. Min thought for a moment, if she was a lesbian, she’d tap that; she’d tap that real good.

Speedball?

Min turned to see Victor standing next to her, stiff as a board. White kid’s survival of the fittest.

This is child’s play. I come to gym to hone my body, not play games. My drill sergeant would have a field day with this physical education program. He’d show them what gym is supposed to be. He’d show them what real pain is.

He turned to see Min licking her lips in a lewd manner.

She regained her composure and wiped off her lips. Victor, you’re going to be the white man’s cannon fodder.

No, he said pushing out his chest, that’s the army.

Same thing?

Don’t insult me! I would never be one of those buffoons. I actually want to make a difference.

She rolled her eyes as he continued on his rant.

No, I’d never be in the army. His gaze was fixed into space as if he were watching his dreams play out in his mind. With a voice mixed with conviction and passion he whispered, I am going to be a Marine. The Few. The Proud.

Same diff.

The sergeant would have your head.

Be a jarhead over there, please, Min said, dismissing his ranting.

Fine, you can be a gook here.

I’m not Vietnamese, militaristic dolt.

Victor turned as Rodney and Tom ran by. For you, sarge. Min watched as he fell in line behind the two goons running laps. Unlike their horrible posture, Victor had perfect running form. She imagined he could hear the sound of the rhythmic beating in his head.

Min watched as Victor jogged toward his life of submission. He annoyed her, more than everybody else. He didn’t even need to be in gym because of JROTC. He was dumb, very dumb, dumber than the average white man. But damn, his ass looked terrific in those fatigues. Yeah, she’d tap that too.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

PERIOD 3

"...and

the last table will be Olivia, Xander, Nate, and Min."

I object Miss Shelly, Olivia stated, stricken with panic.

Oh, don’t be silly Olivia, Miss Shelly said with a slight chuckle, you’re in a marvelous group.

Reality check, Olivia grumbled.

Olivia turned to examine her lab mates. She slumped her shoulders in defeat as she dissected the situation. So here’s the 411 on this bunch of degenerates, she thought. Xander is crazy or something. He vanished for a month, and he came back all weird in the head, more so than when he left. He’s always wearing a trench coat, and metal chains hang off everywhere. Oh, and the smell of his cheap Suave shampoo is an assault on the senses. Nate’s a nice kid, but I think he’s been struck with a case of jungle fever; he’s a bit crazy too. His girlfriend is so full of herself, I want to strangle the bitch, but I won’t, you know, new nails and all.

By the more than normal glazed over look in your eyes, I can tell you’re thinking trash about us, barked Min.

Shut up Min.

Or what, Min stood up, you’ll throw a pom pom at me?

You don’t even deserve to be here, you failing wannabe. You only got into this class because... Olivia hesitated.

Say it Olivia!

"Cause you’re Asian."

Another, Min sighed massaging the bridge of her nose, another jealous cracker.

Go read your comics, barked Olivia.

Min grabbed her pile of books as a bright pink book with illegible writing slid out from the bunch. With lightning fast reflexes, she grabbed the book and shuffled the comic back into the stack. They’re not comics, they’re manga. It’s part of my culture.

Now, now, cooed Miss Shelly, calm down. Let’s get our lab under way.

Miss Shelly stood behind her lab station and adjusted her lab coat. Now students, today we’re going to be looking at the chemical reactions of particular liquids.

She handed a stack of handouts to Nate. Xander, can you pass these out?

I’m Nate, he replied.

The teacher pulled out her glasses and slipped them on. She leaned her head far back, looking through her triple strength bifocals. She laughed. Well, I guess you are!

She giggled at the error as she stepped back behind her workstation. The old woman grabbed two beakers full of liquid, combined the fluids into a third cylinder, and held the glass container up for the class. The transformation was quick. The beaker began to bubble and foam until it poured out onto the black tabletop.

It’s alive! she cackled.

Olivia spun around, trying to hide her irritation. Miss Shelly was one of those crazy teachers. The woman looked like she took fashion tips from Albert Einstein himself. Her gray frizzy hair was all over the place. A hairdresser would commit suicide before tackling that rat nest. The outfit too was a lost cause; her sweater vest looked as though the garment fell out of the rejected bin at Salvation Army. The shoes must have been purchased from a bargain store. Damn Payless and its perpetuation of bad fashion, Olivia thought.

As Miss Shelly’s laughing stopped, she set the foaming containers into the sink. First, I’d like you all to grab your chemicals and follow the directions. Second, I want you to record all the reactions you observe. Make sure you don’t select the wrong chemicals; we wouldn’t want any disasters.

Nate grabbed the lab list and scanned up and down the page. He made sounds, almost grunts, probably from the amount of work he’d actually have to undertake. This is going to take us forever to finish.

Xander scrolled through the list and rolled his eyes. Number one will foam, number two will heat up; number three will change colors, and number four will do nothing.

All three of his lab mates paused and eyed their dark-clad lab mate. Min turned to her lab team as if she expected shit to hit the fan. She sat back a little further on her stool, her eyes darting between Xander and Olivia. Xander raised his eyes from the paper to the cheerleader. He took a deep breath, shaking his head.

My father’s a chemist.

Olivia let out her breath. Oh, thank God, I thought you were a killer or something and you mixed this shit in your shack in the middle of the woods.

Xander snickered. Sure, and I’m carrying a gun in my trench coat.

Nate took the paper back from Xander. We live in the burbs, when does anybody ever have a gun on them? Stuff like that never happens here anyways.

Min raised an eyebrow. Didn’t a kid bring a gun to school just last year?

Olivia shook her head. No, sad excuse for Hello Kitty. We wouldn’t ever forget something like that happening here.

Xander’s eyes shifted back and forth. Yeah, he said, that could never happen here.

Oh, before I forget! Miss Shelly interrupted, I have one more mixture to show you. This one isn’t on the list. This will wow the masses. My scientific prowess will be dazzling, I promise you!

Miss Shelly walked over to the door and turned off the lights. With the overcast weather, the room reached near-perfect darkness. This is going to be, THUD oh, did somebody move the desk?

Someone in the back of the room started to giggle as a long series of crashes and bangs came from Miss Shelly. After a moment of chaotic noises, everything went quiet.

Add a little of this, came the teacher’s voice out of the darkness, and a drop of this. The class held their breath, waiting for a disaster to occur. Most importantly, the secret ingredient, her slight cackle returned.

White woman’s gone crazy, whispered Min.

A crackle came from the front of the room, followed by a hissing sound.

We’re witnessing the end of the world, and we’re at ground zero, said Xander. These could be our last moments.

I wonder if those skank cheerleaders from Wessford will show up at tonight’s game?

Olivia, zip your trap, groaned Min.

Without warning, a loud pop came from the front of the classroom, followed by more hissing. The sound began to get louder. A green light shone from the front of the classroom. The eerie glow illuminated Miss Shelly’s face, exaggerating her huge eyes, made even bigger by her coke-bottle-thick glasses.

Isn’t it fantastic? she asked the class.

What’s in the mixture?

Xander, right? she asked, waiting for his head to nod in the dark. It’s just a blend of chemicals I’ve started experimenting with in my spare time, she giggled to herself. A little mad science you could say.

Miss Shelly, what about the box on the counter?

What box, Xander?

Xander continued pointing to the box on the table, the side of the container glowing an iridescent green from the chemicals. The one with the biohazard symbol on the side.

Oh, she giggled again. This box, she said spinning the cardboard container around.

The entire class gasped for breath until a student in the back of the class spoke up. Dude, that’s so cool. Miss Shelly listens to Bio Hazard?

Xander turned in his chair. Olivia half expected the sociopath to smack the kid. No, you idiot, the symbol means the contents of the case are toxic. We’re going to die.

Miss Shelly set her glowing concoction onto one of the lab benches. Silly man, we would never have something toxic in the school. This here is a plain old box someone used to store some old beakers.

Olivia couldn’t help but notice the concerned look on Xander’s face as he looked from the old woman to the box. She wasn’t really a crazy lady, maybe a little bit eccentric and liked to laugh at her mistakes even more than her successes, but by no means crazy.

I want to believe this was a typical day in high school, but there are too many signs pointing to doom. Yes, I am the only one who can see it; today we’re all going to die.

What? asked Olivia.

Oh, nothing, he said. "Just thinking out loud.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Where does

time go in these classes? The bell rings just as things are getting good, joked Miss Shelly. She stood at the door and watched the students shove their way through the narrow corridor. Enjoy the rest of your day, have fun at the game tonight!"

She left the classroom empty, except for the glowing vial of liquid in the center of the room. The glow reflected off the black tabletops, the pulse similar to a heartbeat. Within moments, the entire room was filled with a glowing, pulsating green light.

I told you she wouldn’t notice us, said a voice from the back of the room.

She’s crazy and she’s blind, came a second voice.

Two heads popped up above a table in the back of the room, looking around to make sure the coast was clear. The students worked their way toward the front desk. They paused when they reached the liquid, watching the light radiate outward, pulsing with life.

I dare you to touch it.

The other boy laughed. Oh, big dare.

The dared boy put his finger into the cylinder, hovering his fingertip above the liquid. It’s warm. He lowered his finger and felt the tip get warmer until he made contact. He swished his finger through the ooze for a moment and pulled it out, his finger glowing a bright green.

Whoa dude, said his friend, your finger looks like a night light.

I dare you to drink it man, said the kid with the glowing finger.

What will you give me?

I’ll let you sneak into my sister’s room when we get home, he said.

Deal!

The kid hesitated, making sure the room was clear. He picked up the glass beaker. Dude, is the light getting brighter?

Yeah, said number two. I saw this movie once where a green ball glowed like this and talked to somebody. You think the ooze is trying to speak to us?

Don’t be stupid, said his friend.

Without a second thought, he drank the liquid until the beaker was half empty. He wiped his lips clean of the glowing liquid. This tastes kind of like sour apples, he said, taking another swig to finish it off.

What little remained in the jar barely lit the room; the boy’s finger was already starting to fade back to normal. Each time the first boy spoke, the room was filled with green light.

Dude, your insides are glowing!

I know, right! This stuff leaves a weird aftertaste, I think I need to get some water or something, said the kid.

Let’s get out of here before we get our asses in trouble.

I can’t wait to get to your place, said the first boy, I’m going to snoop through your sister’s underwear.

Man, that’s my sister you’re talking about! said the second boy. You’re downright nasty.

PERIOD 4

Mrs. V walked

down the row of books, stopping every few feet to slide another tome back onto the shelf. With skilled hands, she held a stack of books in one arm while wedging books onto the shelf with the other. After a few more stops, she placed her last book and took a moment to admire her library.

Every book in its place and every shelf clean, she mumbled to herself, blowing a loose piece of hair out of her face.

She shook her head quietly as she discovered a Time magazine lying on the floor. She kneeled down to pick it up, brushing off the cover, and proceeded to straighten out her long flowing skirt. These kids... she chided.

As she walked across the library toward the study area, every table she neared became quiet and grew louder once she passed. Ten feet in every direction, she radiated an aura that instilled fear in students who dared to speak in her library.

As she settled the magazine back onto the periodicals rack, she heard a shrill, Oh no you didn’t, from across the library.

Mrs. V’s feet almost hovered above the carpet as she flew down the aisle of books to the table at the end. Sitting at the table was a small boy and an animated black girl in the midst of lashing out at her vanilla counterpart. What on Earth is going on here?

The chocolate-skinned girl looked up at Mrs. V and sat down once she saw the librarian’s stern face. I’m sorry Mrs. V, I didn’t mean to get so loud.

Mrs. V gave her a warm smile that spoke two messages, the first being, I thank you for understanding you’re an obnoxious brat, the second screamed, do it again and I’ll club you to death with an encyclopedia. Everybody loved Mrs. V, but they also feared her ability to manage an entire room with a simple, Shhh.

So, started the young lady, Nate and I were discussing going to the prom and adding a little sumthin’ sumthin’ to our décor. You get what I mean?

Of course she did. Are you thinking about themed outfits, celebrity perhaps? Maybe a favorite literary couple?

No, Nate whispered, Dione wants to go as African royalty.

Without looking at the row of books, Mrs. V’s arm shot out and pulled a book off the shelf. Here’s a book about clothing and their historical contexts. I think you can find a variety of garbs indigenous to several regions of Africa.

Mrs. V, what’s your deal? Dione asked with an astonished look.

I am the librarian, she replied as if it answered every question.

Thanks, Mrs. V, said Nate, why don’t we look through here and find something we like?

Dione started flipping through the book until she reached native clothing for Africa. Oh, look at the colors, I would look banging in that!

Yes you would, my chocolatier, the boy said.

Mrs. V tried to hide the disturbed look on her face. The kids spoke of these two as if they were a legend, the black warrior princess and her subservient white boyfriend. She noted, the rumors were not wrong.

Nate watched

as Dione continued flipping through the book, page after page revealing a vision of the princess she knew she was destined to be. You’ll need to tan, she piped in. She waited for him to make eye contact. Your pasty white butt won’t look good in these, and I’ll be damned if we aren’t the hottest couple there.

He examined the garbs; she was right, he knew it. I’ll start tanning this week.

Good man, she whispered back.

He felt a sense of defeat wash over him, a feeling all too familiar. Nate loved her. He really did, but he knew he was just the trophy boyfriend.

Nate, she squealed, what if we use this one. She pointed to one outfit on the left page and one on the right. This one for prom, and this one for our wedding.

You are my ebony princess, he blew her a kiss, anything you want.

Are you serious? Do you like them Nate?

He nodded his head, but he knew he couldn’t force his eyes to lie to her. I love them sweetie.

She leaned over the table and looked at him and started to whisper loudly. You hate them Nate! You hate them! Why are you lying to me? You need to start standing up for yourself, or everybody’s going to walk all over you.

He nodded his head in agreement; after all, she was right.

But who cares what you think, I think this one would look best on us for prom. She trampled over any attempt to think about her insightful statements.

Nate stared at the love of his life while she continued pointing to various images in the book. Her tightly-braided hair cascaded down her back like water. Her eyes were pools of brown he could spend all day swimming in. He loved her. He loved the way she would bite her fingertips while she thought or how she sat with one leg curled under her. This woman, his ebony princess, was damned near perfect.

Are you even listening to me?

Sorry, he replied, I was daydreaming.

’Bout what?

He sat up a little straighter at her inquiry. Uhm, he hesitated a bit confused. I was thinking about us, I guess. I was thinking how it’d be nice to get out of here soon and just be together.

Don’t you go thinking I’m going to be your domesticated housewife. I’m going to be a cop, and you’re going to have to stay home and take care of the kids. And don’t go thinking we’re going to have some picket fence either; we’re going to be in the city, none of that house with a yard shit.

Near perfect, he thought.

Did you say something about law enforcement?

Both students turned, startled to see Mrs. V standing next to them with a stack of books. Yeah, I’m going to be a copper.

Oh, then I just happen to have some resources for you, said the librarian. I was just cleaning off the dust jackets on these.

Mrs. V put down several books with shining covers about law enforcement. Without pausing for air, she flipped through several pages in each, until the books were opened to a section filled with relevant information. In Officers for Dummies, there was a section on college admission and choosing your major. Half-way through So You’ve Decided to Fight Crime: A Heroes Handbook, there was a section on possible careers in law enforcement. Last but not least was Combat in Fashion, revealing a comprehensive timeline of outfits worn by police officers over the last two hundred years.

If that’s not enough, I also have a list of databases that might contain some more relevant information. Mrs. V put down several sheets of paper. I typed these up while you were flipping through those books.

Nate stared in disbelief at the librarian. You aren’t human.

Of course not, she smiled, I’m a librarian.

Reaching into her pockets, she fished around until she pulled out a folded up page from a magazine. Nate, I also found this and thought it might be useful for you. She handed the article off to him and vanished back into the rows of books.

He slowly unfolded the page and looked at the article from Good Housekeeping. He hung his head in shame as he read the article, Men, the New Kitchen Slaves. He wanted to refute it and defy the road he currently found himself walking down, but with one look at his ebony princess, he knew there was no way he could escape; not even death would get him out of this one.

He looked back to the article. Oh, new model stoves! he thought in excitement.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

PERIOD 5

...today in the cafeteria we will be serving dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets, get them before they’re extinct. Last but not least, the Varsity Cheerleaders will be holding a bake sale at lunch. Be thankful for the cheerleaders’ dining alternative. Have a fantastic day anybody who listens.

Are they going to cheer?

Do they do anything else?

I think I’m going to be sick.

Throw up on Olivia’s shoes.

If I threw up on her shoes, the next day everybody would show up with vomit-covered sneakers.

True ‘dat.

Cadence stood with her Asian companion. Let’s find a seat far away. I can’t handle pep today.

Come on girls, shouted Olivia, let’s see if we can cheer up this Emo-Asian duo.

Somebody kill me, cried Cadence.

Olivia stood, surrounded by four other girls. Each of the cheerleaders put their hands down to their sides, heads straight ahead. Ready girls?

Ready, they shouted in unison.

Cut it, shouted two of the troupe. Cut it, responded the other three. The cheer continued, Cut the shit, you’re full of it. Cut the shit you’re full of it. Emo, Asian, Lez-be-on, you know it. Let’s hear it for the lesbians!

Min watched in horror as the girls threw their arms out, spinning around so their skirts flared. The cheer ended with each of them with their arms straight up and their legs forming the number four. Yay Boxford!

Min’s face was red with anger. Cheerlosers, yay!

Olivia stepped forward and towered over Min’s small form. You’re just jealous of these skills. Olivia ran her hands down her side and smacked her own ass. I think you need to give the Twinkie’s club a call. Cause you’re all white in the middle, girl.

Min threw down her books, and fought to free herself from Cadence’s grasp as she clawed at the cheerleader. Olivia, I could kick your ass right now.

Your attitude isn’t very Zen.

Min shook out of Cadence’s grasp and stood still for a moment. She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You want skills, you rich bitch?

Bring it.

Did you honestly just say ‘bring it’? Cadence asked in disbelief.

Min arched her back until her hands touched the floor. She started a back flip and half way through pivoted her body so she was facing away from Olivia. She followed the maneuver with a forward flip, forward flip, and one more forward flip across the cafeteria, managing to part the crowds with each perfectly executed move. As her momentum picked up, she did another roundhouse and finished with a double back flip in mid-air.

Min landed facing Olivia, pointing at the wicked cheerleader as she screamed. Take that, Cracker!

She ran forward a few feet and started flipping again until she sprang into the air. Min grabbed her sides, spinning like a corkscrew in the air, landing and rolling into a somersault; standing inches from Olivia.

I think it was brought, Olivia, snickered Cadence.

What the hell do you know?

Cadence bent down and grabbed Min’s books. When she came up, Min was standing on her tiptoes trying to stare down Olivia, barely able to see her eye-to-eye. Cadence pulled her away from the cheerleader. Don’t bother Min, her last brain cell is busy cheering.

Listen to the dyke.

Olivia, I am going to go all samurai on your ass someday.

Cadence grabbed Min’s hand and pulled her away from the cheer-nazi. Let’s go see if they have anymore tofu burgers.

The two girls walked by dozens of students still staring at Min. As they entered the food area, they were assaulted by a myriad of disturbing scents, mixing rancid food and burning plastics. Most students assumed the smells were one and the same.

The smell, said Min, it hurts my nose. The food here is so completely and utterly disgusting. The girl scrunched up her nose.

Cadence started shifting through the collection of wrapped food products. The vegan worked her way through the chicken and cheeseburgers, and finally at the bottom, with a wrapper covered in grease, she located a veggie burger. Pulling it free of the dead cattle, she grabbed a plate and slapped the unsightly lunch in the center of the tray. She moved further down the line, grabbing a salad and tossing on a few cucumbers.

These poor dead cows.

Cadence froze as she looked at Min’s tray. The Asian girl’s tray was filled with rice, a few pieces of shrimp and a red/orange dipping sauce. How the hell do you do it?

It’s an Asian thing, she said shrugging her shoulders.

Cadence followed her line of sight to several older Asian women working behind the serving area. That is just not fair.

Neither is having your people put in concentration camps as prisoners of war.

Uhm, choked Cadence, just a little socially awkward.

Min laughed. Nah, I’m shitting you. I’m not Japanese!

They walked to a small circular table and took up two of the eight attached stools. The radio station’s music blared through the speakers, competing with the hundred conversations going on about the room.

Min reached into her backpack, pulled out a silk bag, and withdrew a pair of chopsticks. Did Olivia get bitchier recently, or am I just imagining it?

Cadence nodded in agreement. It’s almost as if she’s reached a new plateau of evil, she took a bite of her burger and continued talking. I bet demons bow down to their princess.

That could be your final painting for that art thingy, Dante’s Unknown Level.

Cadence kept eating while watching the cheerleaders navigate around the room, soliciting money for their baked goods. It’s Xander, she whispered.

The room grew quiet as he approached the cheerleader’s table. He reached into his jacket and everybody froze, waiting for the glint of silver to show. Instead of a gun, he removed his wallet and tossed a few bucks on the table. Taking his chocolate chip cookie, he headed straight towards the table with Min and Cadence.

He’s coming, said Min.

Cadence didn’t respond; she was too busy watching Xander as he walked toward them. He stopped at their table and set his backpack down on one of the stools, Do you guys mind if I join you?

You crazy!

Cadence gave her friend a disgruntled punch in the arm. Yeah, have a seat.

The two girls tried not to stare as he unwrapped the plastic from his cookie and took a bite. Min continued to shovel rice into her mouth as she stared at Xander, following his every move. Cadence could only assume Min wanted to remember every detail for when she gave a statement to the cops. She would look forward to when they put him in cuffs and tossed him into the back of the car, kicking and screaming.

Trouble, mumbled Cadence, hiding her face from the incoming cheerleader.

I see the freaks stick together around here, said Olivia. Cadence, is this your new boyfriend? I should have guessed.

He can’t be my boyfriend Olivia, I’m too busy jonesing for you.

Oh, you wish you were gay. It’d give you some more angst for your art. She leaned over the table, I’m sure the two of you will have crazy kids too.

Min chucked a handful of rice at the cheerleader. Olivia stumbled back, blinded by the food. I cannot believe you just did that!

I’ll help, said Xander as he stood up reaching into the inside breast pocket of his jacket. Let me just find my...

Xander kept looking back and forth, shifting his eyes to the few adults within eyesight. He finished, ... my gun. He pulled his hand out of his jacket, his finger pointed at Olivia and yelled, BANG.

Olivia screamed and ran out of the cafeteria with a small group of cheerleaders chasing after her, their squeals vanishing down the hall. Xander slid his hand back into his pocket like he was putting away his imaginary gun.

You still crazy, stated Min. You can eat lunch with us.

Cadence smiled at him. She’ll be back before the period is over to continue making jokes only she finds funny.

They continued to eat for a few minutes until an adult came by. The man was one of the dreaded hall monitors notorious for dragging kids into detention for breathing wrong. What happened with Olivia?

Their eyes darted to each other. Cadence and Xander both looked at Min. It was well-known that hall monitors were brute force without brains; you could confuse them if you had enough skill.

Min opened her mouth and a long stream of words poured out. As the token Asian, Min was capable of speaking half-a-dozen languages from the continent. In her speediest Mandarin, she babbled off the whole story, the true story, the one where she kicked Olivia’s butt with rice.

The monitor checked his watch, losing interest in the conversation. Oh, I see, he lied, well, make sure you keep behaving. I don’t want to come back over here for anything.

Cadence pushed around the veggie burger, smelling of beef fat. She knew they were lying; veggie burgers were a myth at this school. She envied Min, who held a pair of ivory chopsticks, dipping her sushi into a variety of colored sauces and taking small bites. She was a little jealous, maybe next time she’d risk being stabbed and steal a veggie roll.

Xander was the first to break the long silence. I’m not crazy.

Cadence choked on her soggy burger. Huh? It’s not like we were thinking it.

Min shrugged, I was.

Cadence dropped her head into her hand. Don’t your people have some sort of respect thing?

Yeah, Min shrugged, I was ruined by watching too much Fox TV.

Cadence lifted her head and tried to find a way to recover the conversation. Did you just get out of the hospital?

Xander finished eating his cookie and started rolling the plastic wrap into a small ball. Yeah, I’ve been in and out for the past few months.

I heard you went kind of crazy and attacked your parents, and they had you carted away, said Cadence, trying her best to sound sympathetic.

Almost that bad, said Xander, I had mono.

Mono? both girls repeated in unison.

Yeah, I caught mono and had to go to the hospital ‘cuz it got pretty bad. No attacks, no crazy, just a sore throat and fever.

They say you have a gun on you.

Xander smirked at Min, Who says I don’t?

Min asked with a suspicious tone, Why would you have a gun on you?

Xander put both his hands on the table and leaned in, waiting for them to lean closer. Cause we’re all going to die.

Are you threatening me?

Min, no more Fox TV for you!

Bitch, I’ll cut you, she retorted.

What did you say? Cadence shot her a dirty look.

Min’s eyes went wide as she avoided the goth girl’s gaze. Bitch, I love you.

Cadence shook her head and turned back to Xander. Why do you think we’re all going to die?

Cause the world is going to end. It’s only a matter of time before it happens, but I think it’s going to happen soon. I know there’s no way to stop it, but I don’t want to go down without a fight.

Cadence asked in a hushed voice, How’s it going to end?

I can’t be entirely sure just yet, but I do have some theories. The first theory being that the sun is going to go supernova and instantly annihilate us.

I can see how a gun would help us.

It’s just one theory. Another is that we’re about to go into world war three, and it’s going to break out on American soil. Another is that the government is going to start using us as lab rats to conduct experiments. Oh, and of course, there’s always zombies.

You sure you’re not crazy? Min asked between mouthfuls of rice.

Cadence leaned back and brushed her raven black hair out of her eyes. I have to agree with Min, it does sound a little far-fetched. It doesn’t bode well for you when zombies seem like the most obvious explanation for the end of the world.

PERIOD 6

Nurse Harts,

whined one student, my head hurts, do you have any Tylenol?

Sorry Mark, said the nurse. It seems we’re all out at the moment.

The nurse, in her pastel blue scrubs, opened each of the cabinets and scoured for a misplaced bottle of Tylenol. She could hear the moaning and groaning of a half dozen or more students, while another dozen sat on the floor, sleeping or trying to get some rest. Her small office was starting to look like one of the local rehab clinics.

Tossing open the last cupboard, she grabbed the familiar red cap. I think I found one, she said to the entire room.

In the last period, all of 47 minutes, students had come flocking to her with complaints of headaches and stomach cramps. Now, who was it that asked for some?

As she turned, a dozen teenagers assaulted her, reaching out clawing at the Tylenol. In a half-dazed state, they clawed at the bottle; trying to free the contents, but unable to force the child safety cap into submission. Sit down now, demanded the nurse.

The group froze for a moment and hurried back to their cots, chairs, and floor space, waiting for their miracle cure-all. Nurse Harts handed each of the kids two Tylenol and a small cup of water. Before she knew it, there were only a few pills left in the bottle. Another swarm of teens entered her small office, complaining about stomach cramps.

I swear, she said in a shrill voice, I have no idea what they’re feeding you, but this is absurd! Those lunch ladies should be smacked for this.

At the far end of the room, Jacob opened his eyes to see the room full of classmates. He tried to sit up in the small cot, but could still feel the pain in his chest. What happened, he mumbled. Nurse Harts, what’s going on?

Nurse Harts came over to her first patient of the day. How are you feeling, Jacob?

I feel like I got hit by truck. He rubbed his forehead. What happened?

I believe one of your classmates she paused, how do you say it, pwned you?

Did you say pwn?

Would you prefer, laid the smack down on your sorry ass?

Uhm, he choked back, pwned is fine.

You were served the Min Special.

I get it, Nurse Harts, Jacob said, embarrassment creeping up his face.

You’ve only been out for an hour or two. I’m sure everything is fine, she commented, resting her hand on his forehead. If you had a concussion you probably wouldn’t have woken up.

Probably?

Well, there’s always the chance you’ll die next time you fall asleep, but a cold compress and some Tylenol should fix you!

Nurse Harts walked over to the sink and started to run the water while bundling up a washcloth. You should be fine to go in a few. She returned and