After Life by Daniel Kelley Read Free Book Online Page B

meat. So if you come across a group that is chowing down on a dead boy, don’t think you can sneak by, that they’ll be satisfied with a stationary meal. They’ll come after you. The thrill of the hunt,” he added, with a mirthless chuckle that sounded completely unlike the one he had offered in the dorm.
    “If, heaven forbid,” he said, growing more stern, “the Z’s ever do return, you need to know how to face them. But perhaps more importantly, you need to know who to trust. And who not to.
    “I hate that I have to stress this, but it’s a simple truth of the human condition that some of us are not altruistic, some of us won’t protect anyone but ourselves. Now, it’s one thing to refuse to let someone into your hideout for fear of running out of food. That’s understandable, if frustrating. But if, God forbid, the Z’s ever do return, that’s not the worst thing you’ll see. There will be people out there who will shoot humans and zombies alike, shoot anything moving, just to keep themselves alive.
    “Their thinking,” Lowensen said, shaking his head and offering a frown at the idea, “is that the fewer other humans that are out there, the less the zombies will have to eat, and the sooner they’ll die or starve into immobility, or something. I have to admit that it’s probably a true idea, but that doesn’t make it any less cowardly. If we’re willing to wantonly kill humans, I don’t see how we’re any better than the zombies.”
    Lowensen paused, and Celia heard confirming murmurs roll through the parents in the room. The teacher stood in the front of the room, his hands plunged into his pockets, for a full minute. Finally, he raised his eyes again, and his broad, teacherly smile returned just as quickly as it had faded.
    “Anyway,” he added. “That’s the big stuff. Just keep an eye out. You never know.” He motioned through the door behind him. “Cafeteria’s that way. With all the parents here, there probably isn’t enough seating for everyone to eat at once. Say we feed some of you now, the rest later on? Head through if you’re hungry. I’ll see the rest of you in a while.
    “And remember what we said in our letters to you,” the teacher said, crossing his arms and smiling widely, winding up for a big finish Celia knew he had practiced, “Z’s are Z’s. And ‘A’ stands for Alive. So let’s have a year of all A’s.
    “Class starts tomorrow, 10 sharp. Thanks, everyone. Should be a good year.” With that, the teacher gave a small wave, turned and trotted out of the auditorium. He passed through a back door, into a corridor Celia thought looked incomplete. From what she could see, it was just a concrete hallway, no decorations at all. It was a stark contrast from the auditorium. Layers of white or nearly white curtains hung from every wall, except for the chalkboard that spanned most of the length of one wall. It stretched from the left-hand corner to the edge of the door in the opposite corner — the door Lowensen had used. The mini-desks were not fastened to the floor, allowing for their removal or repositioning as needed.
    As Celia looked around, she noticed a handful of students and parents getting up to follow Mr. Lowensen to the cafeteria area. Something like two-thirds of the attendees were going that direction. Celia wasn’t anywhere near hungry, and a glance at her father indicated he too was happy to wait to eat.
    The non-eaters, students and adults alike, exited behind the rows of seats. The sunglasses wearer had slipped the shades back on almost as soon as the teacher had turned his back, and high-tailed it out as quickly as he could. Celia watched a girl in a skin-tight bright pink top, short skirt and heels — the kind of outfit she had asked to wear when she was a few years younger, the kind her father had never allowed — stumble as she missed a step on her way out.
    Stacy, Andy and Celia lingered, letting the herd thin. While they waited, Celia saw a