Smoking Zombies

Zombie Mayhem in the Classroom

I was sitting at the back of the class not listening to the English teacher drone on about some old book or other. I don't know what came first the terrible cacophony of coughing or the screams. It didn't take too long before we realised that something was very wrong. Just about the whole class turned their heads to the right to the windows looking out to the corridor. Jaws dropped when a load of scared looking kids ran past, some of them screaming loudly. It looked like they were running for their lives. They certainly weren’t running to get to class, that’s for sure. It was weird enough that they looked terrified, although my first thought was how strange it was there was no teacher shouting, Stop! No running! After a short few seconds, we saw them walking unsteadily with arms outstretched and their teeth bared. I wanted to laugh, but it didn’t seem right somehow. There were six or seven teachers going past and a couple of students. It was an odd mix as they seemed to be together as a group and the kids were the ones from the skanks class. I was a lazy sod with my school work, but I did enough to get by. Those students were the ‘didn’t give a shit’ type. They only came to school because they had to and because it was fun to annoy the teachers. But, there they were taking part in some sort of weird drama with weirder teachers. What was going on in the world today? It still didn't register in my dopey head despite the screaming and the look of panic on the faces of the runners.

Our teacher at the front of the class was just standing there in a state of shock. Mr Cockburn the weird English teacher who picked his nose in class and often had a bad case of body odour stood there, ashen faced. It wasn't a surprise to see him frozen and not know what to do, as most of the class sessions were like that anyway. He shouted a lot and the class was often badly behaved. Those of us at the back of the class could often just sit and daydream while he sat at his desk twiddling with his greasy looking lank black hair. He could do with a hair cut really or maybe even just wash it once in a fortnight. It was a good plan to be further away from the unpleasant body smells, here at the back anyway. It wasn't much of a day-dreaming day today. It looked more like it might turn into a huge nightmare. It all seemed so mad, that at first I hadn't properly recognised the lifeless faces of the stumbling people that the kids seemed to be running from. It was only when one of them turned and walked straight into the glass of the door I saw it was the chemistry teacher, Mr Holden. He didn't even notice the huge gash that opened up on his forehead from hitting the glass. It was then that the revolting, putrifying smell hit us. All the students from that side of the classroom had already backed away from the windows facing the corridor. Good job Brian Wilson had, had the forethought to push his desk in front of the door so Mr Holden couldn't open it. A couple of the girls screamed, although I'm not sure about that, it could have been a couple of the boys. 

“Fucking hell!" I exclaimed a little bit too loud.

That got me a dirty look from the English teacher. He had called me uncouth last week in the classroom, cheeky sod. But really, with something that nasty and unfriendly looking banging up against the classroom door trying to get in, I think a fucking hell was probably justified on this occasion.

"Okay class, calm down. I think we should all move over to this side of the classroom,” Mr Cockburn said.

I don't think he'd noticed that everyone was already starting to move away from the mayhem taking place in the corridor. There were the loud squeals and squeaks of the furniture scraping the floor as pupils pushed desks away rapidly to get away from scary Mr Holden. He was staring out of lifeless eyes, scratching at the door trying to get in and banging his head on the glass of the door. The glass cracked into hundreds of sharp shapes but stayed in place. Thank goodness for those strengthened panes in the doors. Jeez, we're going to be stuffed if he moves over to the windows next to the door, I thought. They were just ordinary glass panes. Jagged shards of glass from the broken window were becoming embedded in his forehead.