The Airdrie Firefly

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE

Questions

Adrenaline fueled Steven's exhausted legs as they propelled him down the hallway, back to the place he'd just fled, back to Mrs. Nessman's classroom. It wasn't long before fatigue started to win out, and his legs became heavy—very heavy. Each stride burned with exhaustion a little more than the last. Finally, he was forced to stop, bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air; and all just a few yards from his goal.

Steven stared at the open doorway to Mrs. Nessman's classroom for several labored breaths. Something was missing—the reason he ran all this way: the pair of feet he'd seen sticking just outside the doorway when the chase began. There had been a person lying facedown in the doorway, a victim of Mrs. Nessman's zombie-infused madness. He was sure of it.

Two slow creeps toward the doorway and Steven froze in his tracks. What happens to the victims of zombie attacks? he thought. Do they turn into zombies . . . ghouls . . . whatever, just like in the movies? Do they turn right away or is it more like in vampire movies, where they need to stew for a while before turning? Wait. Do vampires exist? Zombies, ghouls, and Bigfoot exist. Why not vampires?

Steven shook the thoughts of giant hairy beasts and potential blood-sucking monsters out of his head and tried to focus on the monster of the moment: the ghoul. Or was that zombie? If a ghoul turns into a zombie, can it turn back? Maybe I imagined it. Maybe there wasn't a body lying there at all, or maybe there's another insane monster nearby. A chill ran down his spine and into his legs, adding the feeling of weakness to the list of heavy, burning, and exhausted. Still, Steven crept closer to the doorway, his heart beating louder with each step.

Just inside the room, he spied what could only be blood spatter on the floor, and another chill ran down his spine and into his legs, threatening to pull him to the ground.

A hand grabbed Steven's shoulder as a low groan echoed against the walls.

Steven spun around but collapsed to the floor, weak in the knees. Darkness started to crowd around the edge of his vision. Struggling on his hands and knees, Steven could see the shoes of who or what was looming over him. They were the same shoes he'd seen sticking out of the doorway earlier. He looked up, through darkened and blurred vision. Whatever it was, it was holding its head.

"Mr. Digs, is that you?

"Mr. Nessman?"

"Oh, dear. I appear to be bleedi—" Mr. Nessman fainted, falling forward like a felled tree.

The last thing Steven remembered was his arms and legs flying out straight in the air as Mr. Nessman landed on him, squashing the air out of his body.

***

"Zombie!"

Steven heard someone screaming the word over and over again. His eyes popped open only to realize that someone was him.

"We mustn't forget ghouls and Bigfoot," said a nasally voice with an English accent. "Or is that Bigfeet? I'm the director of the All Creatures Big and Small Division of the zoo. I really should know that."

Steven's vision cleared and he saw Dr. Tristan's face hovering over his. He was cleaning Steven's face with some sort of wipe.

"It's been an eye-opening week for you," Dr. Tristan said, continuing his cleaning and examination. "Not to mention dangerous. Why, this is the second time I've had to treat your injuries this week."