THE ZOMBIE PLAYGROUND

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Dylan raced into the downstairs journalism room and locked the door. He couldn't believe it. He'd only had ten more minutes of work to complete before heading home. He'd been at school since 9 A.M., working hard to complete his two arts and entertainment pages for the school newspaper, The Grisly Details. He'd completed his film review of the new Oren Peli movie Area 51 and pasted it on page eleven. He'd edited and revised all the stories for his pages—the food review of the nearby Kreeper Noodles, the book review of Stephen King's latest, the TV review of the latest teen vampire show, and a preview of the upcoming Grisly High musical Macbeth: Beyond the Grave.

"How fitting," Dylan said.

He had been working all day and was almost done. Twenty minutes ago he could've run to his car and found his way to safety. He would've been sad about not being able to save Brin and the others in time. But at least he wouldn't be dead meat. At least he'd live long enough to see the newest issue of the newspaper printed and on stands throughout the school.

"Britney, Danielle," he said, rushing to the back of the room, where all the students were working diligently on the finishing touches of the paper. Britney was the News & Views Editor, and Danielle was the Editor-in-Chief. Neither one looked up from her computer.

"What is it, Dylan?" an angry Danielle said.

"I was just upstairs—"

"If you have something to say, make it fast."

"We're under attack!"

"No, duh, Sherlock," Britney added. "We've got two hours before the deadline. We're under an attack of mega proportions!"

"No, I mean, a literal attack. Zombies have entered the school!"

The girls still didn't look up from their computers; they laughed instead. "Very funny, movie boy."

"No, really! I just saw them!"

They shook their heads and continued typing. Neither of them took him seriously.

"I believe you, Dylan," a male voice said from the other corner of the room, where the beautiful Brent was busy working on the back page of the newspaper. Sports Editor since September, he was most assuredly heterosexual, with a new girlfriend every month, but with the kind of gorgeous, blond, all-American look that made even the straight boys swoon.

Dylan smiled at him. "Thank you, Brent."

But then the boy laughed, even louder than the girls. "Those horror movies in that Film class finally getting to you?"

"No, hey, I'm being serious."

"Well be sure to lock the doors then. I don't feel like dying today."

He snickered at Dylan, mocking him, but Dylan knew he was going to be the one with the last laugh when fifty zombies crashed through the door and started juggling Britney's pancreas, Danielle's liver, and Brent's throbbing heart up into the air.

Dylan checked the door on the left of the room. Locked. He re-checked the door on the right. Locked. They were safe. Nobody, certainly no thing, could get inside.

He ran toward the teacher's desk to find the phone. He needed to get help. As he raced across the room, feeling his feet becoming heavier with each wimpy step, he tried not to start crying. He had survived the tragic events of Bodie, only to have to survive a new Grisly attack. He was still trying to forget about the vampire sightings; now he was supposed to see a thousand zombies and feel like all was normal with the world?

Dylan was scared. No—he was terrified.

He grabbed the phone but didn't get a chance to press a single digit. He looked forward to see two zombies pressed against the teacher's desk, staring up at him with hungry eyes.

Dylan screamed and raced toward the back of the journalism room.

"Oh my God!" he shouted. "Everyone, get out!"

He ran toward the back door and turned around just in time to see Britney and Danielle drop down to the floor from their chairs as the two zombies jumped over the desks and leapt for the two girls.

"Oh my God!"

"He was right! He was—"

The two zombies started slashing through the girls, just as the tall, cute Brent jumped over his computer and smashed himself against Dylan. 

They both peered down at the doorknob.

"What are you doing?" Brent said. "Why are you just standing here? Let's go!"

"I was just..." Dylan said, wrapping his arm around Brent's. "I was just waiting for you."

Brent smiled at Dylan in a way that suggested maybe he did have a little gay in him.

But Dylan didn't know if he'd ever find out if he had a chance at a future romance with the dreamy Sports editor.

He kicked the door open and screamed when three more zombies raced toward him, their hands reaching for his throat.