Copyright 2010 Carey Burns
A chorus of beeps filled the classroom and as a few brave students dared to peek at their cell phones, Katie Shea, the teaching assistant, screamed.
“Ms. Shea, I will not tolerate this outburst!” Dr. Quinn scolded, red-faced with rage.
She held the phone in her trembling hand. “It’s the campus alert, we’re on lockdown.” Her eyes brimmed with tears as he snatched the phone from her hand.
He studied the text message as he crossed the room and picked up the extension. As he dialed, he glared at her. While his students squatted for cover under the rows of desks, he interrogated someone on the other end then hung up, chuckling to himself. “It’s alright. Nothing to worry about.”
Katie squeaked, “What’s happening?”
“As ridiculous as this sounds,” he sat in his chair, hands folded on the desktop, “the school is under siege by zombies.”
Their resounding gasps amused him. “Don’t act so surprised. Zombies are real, but we’re in no danger. Let me tell you about zombies…”
He clutched a stub of chalk between his fingers and scrawled ‘Stairs’ on the chalkboard. “Zombies cannot climb stairs. We are on the second floor, hence we are safe.” The chalk scritched against the board as he wrote ‘Least Resistance.’ “Zombies always take the path of least resistance. Even if one made it up the two flights of stairs, they lack the drive to break through a locked metal door.”
He paced, pontificating about zombie behaviors while the students reclaimed their seats. Outside, a bloodbath was in full-swing, zombies reveling in the brains of professors and students alike.
“…so if you mimic a zombie’s mannerisms, they will believe you too are undead.” He jotted down the phrase ‘Dissociative Disorder’ on the board, oblivious to the screams outside.
“Are you sure they can’t climb stairs?” Katie peered out the window, horrified to see three undead stumble up the stairs to the main entrance.
“I just told you they can’t. They lack the motor skills.”
A scream from the lobby swelled through the entire building, silencing the students while Dr. Quinn began to lecture about zombies in a historical perspective.
The fiends flooded up the stairwell into the hallway, hurling their bodies against the locked doors.
Katie squeezed her eyes shut. “Dr. Quinn, regarding the path of least resistance, what would you say the attention span of a zombie is?”
“Seconds at best, my dear. Now, where was I…”
He delved into reports of pre-Civil war zombies while a few students armed themselves with anything they could against the surge of undead beating on the door.
Disgusted, Dr. Quinn stalked towards the door. “When will you imbeciles realize that if you cannot be on time to class that you shouldn’t come at all?” He flung open the door against the protests of his students. Just as he shrieked, “No late entry!” an ashen hand clutched his throat and pulled him into the hallway.