Zombiefied! Read Free Page B

front tyre into the bike rack and wound my bike lock around the wheel.
    â€˜Ben!’ She dropped her bike on the grass and stood with her hands on her hips. ‘What’s wrong?’
    â€˜Tank nearly punched my lights out!’ I said.
    â€˜What?’ She looked stunned, but I didn’t buy it. ‘When?’
    â€˜Just now.’ I was so mad, I was almost shouting. ‘After I fell off my bike!’
    â€˜Are you OK . . .?’
    I ignored her. It was obvious she didn’t care! I dodged around her and lost her among the crowd. Maybe washing my knee was a good idea; that way she wouldn’t be able to follow me into the boys’ toilets.
    The bell rang as I walked through the school doors. The hallway was filled withkids, some taking things out of their lockers, some chatting as they made their way to class. A few said hello to me, but I pretended not to hear them as I made a beeline for the boys’ toilets, which were down the end of another smaller, less crowded hallway, opposite an old staircase. The staircase was blocked off with a rope, which had a little sign dangling over it:

    I think this was meant to show people the stairs were steep and dangerous, but someone had drawn on it with a black marker. Now the sign looked like this:

    If it hadn’t been for the sign, I would never have even noticed that one of the panels, which blocked off the space under the stairs, was loose. I stopped to inspect it. It wasn’t loose; it was open . What seemed to be a bit of ordinary wall panelling was actually a door. It reminded me of one of my favourite video games, Return of the Infected . Zombies would jump out from hidden doorways when you least expected it. Could zombies be lurking here too?
    I looked around. The hallway was now empty. I pulled the door open further.
    Inside was a small room. The floor was cluttered with stuff: stacks of buckets, boxes of rags, vacuum cleaners and other machines. Mops were leant up against one corner. A shelf, with fancy carved knobs at either end, ran along the length of one wall. It was piled high with cleaning products.
    This must be the janitor’s storeroom. It made sense that they would want this stuff near the toilets, but they wouldn’t want the kids to know where it was kept. People would come in and trash it! I imagined Tank in here, emptying the bottles of detergent on the floor and unravelling the rolls of toilet paper. He’d make a real mess of the place if he knew about it. I stepped back, pulling the door shut. I felt a bit disappointed because, for some reason, I thought I had discovered a secret room.
    But just as the weird door-disguised-as-a-panel was swinging shut, I saw something: a movement. I pushed the door open again and there it was, right in front of me — a gaping hole in the wall.

6
    The opening was about the size and shape of a door, and as black as the mouth of a cave. A slight wind blew up out of it. The air smelt old and stale.
    For a few seconds I stood still, staring into the pitch-black hole. Where had it suddenly appeared from? I’m pretty sure my mouth was gaping too, because it’s not very often that a portal into the unknown opens up before your eyes. I decided I should get a closer look. Maybe I’d found a secret zombie crypt after all!
    I put my bag down and began to pickmy way carefully between a box of rags and a big, old machine that I guessed was used to polish the floor.
    Suddenly, there was a sound behind me. I must’ve been kind of jumpy ’cause I spun around real quick. My leg hit the floor-polisher and, as I fell, I tried to grab the wooden shelf.
    â€˜WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?’ boomed a voice.

    I looked up from where I was sprawled on the floor. Standing in the hallway was Mr Slender.
    Mr Slender, the Maths teacher, was tall and thin and sharp. Unlike old Crumpet, whenever Mr Slender opened his mouth it was to give an order or to tellsomeone off.