To start with, you had to consider the brains. Kate stared at the chalkboard, thinking. After three days of trying to examine the molecular biology involved in zombie metabolism, she had gotten nowhere.
“Braaaaaaaaains,” came a low moan.
Kate let out a low shriek, and dropped her chalk. It smashed into three pieces on the floor. She whirled around, looking for any sort of weapon she could use to fell her attacker, and grabbed a stapler off the teacher’s desk.
“Whoa, relax.” It was Mr. Cooper, her biology teacher, wearing a tattered lab coat that had been splashed with red paint. “I was just poking fun. It’s Halloween, I mean.”
“Mr. Cooper, we’re on week four of a global zombie invasion. If we can’t come up with a method to catch and study them, they’ll overrun us.”
“Kate, when I was your age, the most pressing global concerns for an eleventh-grader were Vietnam and hippies.” He sighed. “The good old days.”
She sighed, pulling out her cell phone, and dialed. “Billy, have you made any progress on the ‘Zombie in the Basement’ front?”
“Not yet,” came his voice. In the background, Kate heard shuffling and moaning. And barking.
“Wait there. I’m on my way.” Kate shut off her phone. “Mr. Cooper, if you were a mindless killing machine, what would you want to consume for fuel?”
“If I were?” He considered. “Probably energy drinks and steak.”
“But I don’t want to give them too much energy. I want them to think they’re consuming fuel, but burn it off quickly.”
“I don’t know.” He unscrewed the cap of his Meadow Surge—a bottled soft drink, dyed lime green—but it fizzed, going everywhere. “Oh, man. Great. Just great.”
At the sound of glass breaking, both of them whirled around: a man dressed in tattered clothing, and foaming at the mouth, had broken the window with an axe and was slipping inside.
“Tell me that’s not a freshman pulling a prank!” Kate shrieked.
“No, it’s a real zombie! Get back!” The biology teacher reached into his desk, pulling out a can of pepper spray, spraying it at the zombie’s eyes. “Stay away! This is my classroom! No brains for you today!”
The zombie clutched at its eyes and fled back out the window, cutting itself on the glass.
“Yeah, just like a protestor. Can’t handle the heat,” said Mr. Cooper, coughing. “I knew going to the police academy was worth it.”
Kate’s eyes stung, and she coughed. “They let you keep that stuff on a school campus?”
“Are you kidding? I saved both our lives.”
Kate looked between his lab coat dripping with green soda pop and the window. “I think he was after your drink.” She took a q-tip, swabbed the zombie’s blood off the window, and slipped it into a clear plastic canister. “I’ll run a DNA test and see what I can find. In the meantime, maybe we can use less violent means to keep zombies away.” She grabbed her backpack. “Thanks for the help,” she said, and dashed off.
“Yeah … sure.” He looked at the broken glass, sighing. “Damn hippies.”