Read Online Reanimated Readz by Rusty Fischer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rusty Fischer
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audience this afternoon?”
Calvin’s face lights up, and my heart stings a little to see the humanity return to his cheekbones, and especially his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that he was still a human. But he’s not, not really.
His voice is calm and clear as he replies. “Yes, I do.” Then he pauses and looks up at the hundred-plus zombies sitting in the nosebleed section, way up there in the top left corner. “I hope you’ll vote for me because even if we lose, it will mean we’re still a part of the student body. And I think that this year, our first full year allowed back to school—that’s the most important thing.”
Now kids are losing their minds, standing up, whooping, hollering—and we’re not just talking zombies. My heart sinks to see the in-crowd, my crowd, taking a stand as well. I give Brody a panicky glance as he lurks in the wings, but he just stands there, his smile frozen on his face, with a thumb only halfway up.
For the first time all campaign, his clipboard is nowhere to be found.
What can that mean? When a campaign manager ditches his clipboard? That can’t be good, can it?
A buzzer shocks me back to center stage, where Mrs. Halston is looking at me expectantly. “Tanner, for our final question, I’ll give you a chance to respond: what would you like to say to the zombies in our audience today?”
Witch! Somehow I knew that was coming. I clear my throat and stare directly at the zombies in the top left corner of the audience. My smile feels sticky and cold as I open my mouth. “I don’t want anyone to think that a vote for Tanner McBride is a vote against the zombies,” I begin. “I really do have your best interests at heart. Someday, yes, a zombie will be able to hold student office, but for now…I honestly believe the only real candidate is a human candidate.”
You can hear a cricket chirp in response, but I’m glad because at least they’re not booing…yet. Oh wait, I forgot how slow they are. Here come the boos now, soft and low, more like a groan.
Some are faster, because they’re human. Louder, too.
“Calvin,” Mrs. Halston is asking my opponent. “Any last thoughts on what Tanner has to say?”
Calvin rolls up one of his green sleeves. He does that when he gets nervous. He did that on my front stoop, in fact, the first time he asked me out. He looks at me, bites his thin gray lip and says, “I believe Tanner is sincere about wanting what’s best for…us.”
Pause. “But….” And here it comes. “But…as a zombie, I don’t need anyone to take care of me anymore.”
And that’s that. Boom, smash, crash …down come the rafters. I’m sunk. I know it. Right there, the zombie did it. I sneak a peek at Brody, who literally has his hands up in defeat. I start to walk off the stage and he mouths the words, Q and A like fifteen times in rapid succession. “Q and A! Q and A! Don’t forget the Q and A!”
I frown and turn back to the audience.
By the time I do, I see a string of zombies, maybe a dozen, maybe two, lined up at their microphone at the bottom of the bleachers. Mrs. Halston stands primly from her seat at the foot of the stage and pivots primly to face them.
She takes the mic from its holder and points it in the face of the first zombie, a junior by the name of Carl Gaff. He used to play for the soccer team before Congress vetoed the Living Dead in Sports Act earlier this year.
He is short and slight and swimming in his green jacket, which only seems to come in one size: XXL. He looks at me calmly and says, slowly, deeply, but quite seriously, “What qualifications do you have that Calvin doesn’t?”
Before I can hear Brody’s voice screaming in my head, I snap out the first thing that comes to mind. “I can read, for one.”
There is dead silence in the auditorium as Carl Gaff looks at me. I cringe, expecting the place to boo, to erupt, to storm the stage and tear me limb from limb. What I get is even
Calvin’s face lights up, and my heart stings a little to see the humanity return to his cheekbones, and especially his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that he was still a human. But he’s not, not really.
His voice is calm and clear as he replies. “Yes, I do.” Then he pauses and looks up at the hundred-plus zombies sitting in the nosebleed section, way up there in the top left corner. “I hope you’ll vote for me because even if we lose, it will mean we’re still a part of the student body. And I think that this year, our first full year allowed back to school—that’s the most important thing.”
Now kids are losing their minds, standing up, whooping, hollering—and we’re not just talking zombies. My heart sinks to see the in-crowd, my crowd, taking a stand as well. I give Brody a panicky glance as he lurks in the wings, but he just stands there, his smile frozen on his face, with a thumb only halfway up.
For the first time all campaign, his clipboard is nowhere to be found.
What can that mean? When a campaign manager ditches his clipboard? That can’t be good, can it?
A buzzer shocks me back to center stage, where Mrs. Halston is looking at me expectantly. “Tanner, for our final question, I’ll give you a chance to respond: what would you like to say to the zombies in our audience today?”
Witch! Somehow I knew that was coming. I clear my throat and stare directly at the zombies in the top left corner of the audience. My smile feels sticky and cold as I open my mouth. “I don’t want anyone to think that a vote for Tanner McBride is a vote against the zombies,” I begin. “I really do have your best interests at heart. Someday, yes, a zombie will be able to hold student office, but for now…I honestly believe the only real candidate is a human candidate.”
You can hear a cricket chirp in response, but I’m glad because at least they’re not booing…yet. Oh wait, I forgot how slow they are. Here come the boos now, soft and low, more like a groan.
Some are faster, because they’re human. Louder, too.
“Calvin,” Mrs. Halston is asking my opponent. “Any last thoughts on what Tanner has to say?”
Calvin rolls up one of his green sleeves. He does that when he gets nervous. He did that on my front stoop, in fact, the first time he asked me out. He looks at me, bites his thin gray lip and says, “I believe Tanner is sincere about wanting what’s best for…us.”
Pause. “But….” And here it comes. “But…as a zombie, I don’t need anyone to take care of me anymore.”
And that’s that. Boom, smash, crash …down come the rafters. I’m sunk. I know it. Right there, the zombie did it. I sneak a peek at Brody, who literally has his hands up in defeat. I start to walk off the stage and he mouths the words, Q and A like fifteen times in rapid succession. “Q and A! Q and A! Don’t forget the Q and A!”
I frown and turn back to the audience.
By the time I do, I see a string of zombies, maybe a dozen, maybe two, lined up at their microphone at the bottom of the bleachers. Mrs. Halston stands primly from her seat at the foot of the stage and pivots primly to face them.
She takes the mic from its holder and points it in the face of the first zombie, a junior by the name of Carl Gaff. He used to play for the soccer team before Congress vetoed the Living Dead in Sports Act earlier this year.
He is short and slight and swimming in his green jacket, which only seems to come in one size: XXL. He looks at me calmly and says, slowly, deeply, but quite seriously, “What qualifications do you have that Calvin doesn’t?”
Before I can hear Brody’s voice screaming in my head, I snap out the first thing that comes to mind. “I can read, for one.”
There is dead silence in the auditorium as Carl Gaff looks at me. I cringe, expecting the place to boo, to erupt, to storm the stage and tear me limb from limb. What I get is even
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