The teacher turned to her class and smiled. She felt a bead of sweat sliding down the back of her neck but tried her best to ignore it. Any small distraction would be her life. She gazed just over their heads, avoiding all eye contact.
“Does anyone know the answer?” she asked as calmly as she could. Soothing voice, sweet and relaxed. I can get through this without a scratch.
When no one answered, she gave a quick glance at the three small children in the front row, who immediately tried to lock eyes with her. She turned back to the chalkboard, her heart pounding. “It’s simple arithmetic. I’m sure, if you thought long and hard, you can all figure it out.”
That was the wrong thing to say and she immediately knew it, as thirty-three children all tried to latch onto her thoughts at once. She fell against the chalkboard, a wave of revulsion slamming into her.
The crackle of the overhead speakers broke the contact. “Miss Dickson, if you can’t teach the class we’ll need to find a substitute. Is that understood?”
She smiled. She could do this. It was better than the alternative. She found the piece of chalk on the floor where she’d dropped it and tapped the chalkboard with her finger. “Alright, back to our math problem. If you have sixteen apples and your friend Susie gives you three more apples, how many apples do you have?”
“I can’t eat apples,” one of the boys said and the class laughed.
She kept her focus on the math problem on the board, willing herself to not look at them. Any of them. It would be over soon. Twenty more minutes until the bell rang.
Her training as a school teacher returned and she smiled. She once again turned and looked over the kids, at a small drawing one of them had done the other day with crayons, a night setting with a family rising from their coffins and a big moon in the background. “How about this? You have sixteen, um, pints of blood and your Maker gives you three more pints of blood. How many pints do you have?”
“What’s the blood in?” someone asked.
“In two people. One has sixteen pints and the other has three.”
“A male can have between ten and twelve pints, and a female between eight and ten. Your question makes no sense.”
She almost looked at the boy asking the question but smiled and looked at the ceiling. When she saw the dried blood from Misses Rathburn, the last teacher, she looked back to the drawings. “Alright, then what if you had a man with twelve pints of blood and another with three pints?”
“That’s not the question.”
Now she wanted to scream, and she could feel the sweat beading on her forehead. She knew she wasn’t allowed to deviate from the planner, but she had. Maybe they hadn’t heard her or noticed.
The static crackle of the speakers came back on. “Miss Dickson? I’m afraid we won’t be needing you anymore.” There was a pause. “Children, take an early lunch.”
The “Dying Days” extreme zombie series is growing all the time, and he currently has over 50 releases on Amazon. His “Miami Spy Games” series by Hobbes End Publishing and “Tool Shed” horror novella from Angelic Knight Press are his most recent releases.
You can find him at http://armandrosamilia.com
and e-mail him to talk about zombies, baseball and Metal: firstname.lastname@example.org