Zombie High Chronicles (Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

fisted hand and moved down the aisle.  
    “Roan, you came back!”
    I close my eyes at the high pitch shout of joy and sigh. Sammy Reisman is my shadow and a certified menace.
    “Yell it a bit louder, why don’t you?” I slump into the seat at the back and throw my leg out across the seat to make sure he doesn't see the open space as an invitation.
    “Sorry.” His double chin jiggles as he flops into the seat across the aisle with about the same amount of grace as a walrus flopping onto the shore. “That was a secret, right?”
    “No, Sammy,” I rub my hands over my face and count slowly to ten instead of throttling him. “I actually want the Stars and Stripes to know that I’m breaking out.”
    Despite the cool morning air, Sammy’s navy blue shirt already shows signs of underarm sweat and it is growing by the minute. Word around school is that he was found a week ago on a back road somewhere near Orangeburg, SC running away from a Dead Head that we claimed was trying to eat him. I seriously doubted that the kid could jog ten feet without breaking into an asthma attack. The kid actually wears his inhaler on a chain around his neck.
    “Well, you sure are all sorts of cranky today! Get up on the wrong side of the bed?” He huffs and tries to pull his backpack up from the floor, managing only to get it lodged between his stomach and the seat.
    I grin and leaned forward. “Yeah, your mom kicked me out just before you woke up.”
    “That’s not funny.”
    Maybe it isn't all that funny. Momma jokes lost their edge long before the outbreak left far too many kids as orphans but Sammy knows just how to get under my skin. I shouldn't let him get to me.
    I turn to look out the window and wave when I see Short Stack marching by with a soldier. He's been changed into actual clothes and been given a camo backpack that bounces when he walks and matching hat. There is a hint of fear in his eyes when he looks up at me, squeezing his teddy bear tight, but also a hell of a lot of bravery when he smiles. Too bad some of these other kids don't  have his guts.
    Short Stack will take a different bus to school with other kids his age. Even though the lower grade school sits just across a small courtyard from ours, it is separated by its own fence and therefore, the bus entrance is on the opposite side.
    Just before he moves out of sight I spy the tiny black numbers on his forearm, a red and slightly swollen tattoo number assignment that will soon replace his name. We all have them. I can just imagine the look on the face of the unlucky bastard who was assigned to the bookkeeping department to keep track of us.
    I should have warned Short Stack about the tattoo. I just didn't want to scare him. The kid has obviously been through a lot.
    I turn to look out of the opposite window and focus on the steady rumble of the diesel engine. It's hard not to wonder why we are wasting such precious resources on an old school bus when it's obvious the refineries are all shut down. Eventually, there won't be any more gasoline or diesel to be had.
    Three more students board before the doors close and we pulled away from the lab. Poppy and Willow Manson are living examples of the definition free spirits. With long flowing skirts, fake flowers in their braided hair and a grating tendency to finish each other’s sentences it makes me grateful when they take a seat up front.
    The third person holds slightly more interest. Her name was Teegan Saunders and she looks to be around my age as she waddles down the aisle with her hand propped firmly against her back. I don't know much about pregnant girls but she doesn't exactly have that glow that you hear people talking about. In fact, this morning she looks more like a grizzly bear someone woke from hibernation a month too early.
    “Whatcha looking at Teegan for?”
    I glare over at Sammy when he shouts his question loud enough for the girl to look up and see me staring.
    “Smooth, Sammy. Real