ContamiNation

A normal day

It was a normal day. Little did I know it would become the last normal day of my life.

Well, really it wasn't that normal. A normal day would've been me wishing that an apocalypse would strike so I would have to do the gods-damned math test in third period. A normal day would've been me making plans for what to do in an apocalypse. A normal day would've been me being depressed and miserable. That day I was genuinely happy; not numb, or sad, or even slightly content—happy. And that's the day everything went to hell.

First there was screaming. Being in high school we just thought there was some idiot prank going down. Until the teachers decided to look outside their classes, then close the doors. It was the students by the windows that grabbed everyone's attention to the commotion outside.

"Hey guys, looks like the stoners are re-creating The Walking Dead." Cassie said by the window. Her boyfriend was trying to peak over her shoulder to see, but Cassie's hair—bushy, curly, and everywhere—was blocking the view. Michael pushed her off his lap and stood to get a better look.

"Holy shit," He muttered.

Those two words sent everyone in the class hurling toward to windows; including me.

I just got to glance through the window to see one of the stoner kids run, trip, scrape their face on the concrete and scream, blood everywhere before someone shoved me to look for themselves. I shoved back.

Someone had jumped on the kid's back but before they did anything their head got wrenched to the side, blood flying, with a deafening crack. Everyone flinched. It took everyone a second to realize someone had just been shot in front of our school.

Across the street a tall cloaked figure ran from a nearby building towards the stoner on the ground. He bent down to the kid and turned his head. He seemed to exhale a long breath before he took out a short knife and slit the kid's throat.

Cassie screamed. And an announcement went off.

"Students and teachers, we are now in a hold and secure. Please follow the instructions given to us by the Police." The voice changed to what sounded like Officer Freeman's voice just as sirens started going off closer to our school. "Thank you. Everyone please stay calm and close and cover all windows, and open your doors. We will be making rounds and after we pass your classroom you are to close and lock your doors. Please stay quiet and do any class-work to pass the time until further instructions. Thank you." There was the annoying buzz, then silence.

Everyone was so quiet as though we weren't breathing. A girl shook in the corner, he ragged breaths were the only sound.

"What's...happening?" Cassie gasped out.

Our teacher was still standing, frozen, in front of the board. "I..." He wasn't even supposed to be here, our teacher, Mr. Ingel, had called in sick to the school and we ended up with Mr. Carro as a supply. "I don't know." He said. "But we will find out, when they make the rounds I'll ask and all will be fine."

We all knew he was lying but who would say anything right now. The sirens were getting louder.

Mr. Carro moved to the door putting up the lockdown paper over the door's window before pulling it open to reveal the empty hallway. "Everyone, close the windows and then cover them, if the curtains don't cover properly, tape up paper." He went to Mr. Ingel's desk and pulled out every roll of tape he could find. And paper. Though, most kids had already started on using their homework and gum.

Some kids were muttering about the Apocalypse. Others about pranks, and drills, and government secrets, and, my personal favorite, testing Trump's new nuclear and-or bio-warfare.

I crawled over to a girl I don't particularly like. None of my friends were in this class. "What do you think is happening?"

Catherine looked at me. "I don't know, but I think if we just think about good things and if we stay positive we'll be absolutely fine."

I suddenly remembered why I try not to talk to her much. I prefer brooding silence to her insufferable positivity. "Ok then."

I debated going over to where Cassie and Michael are, I've spoken to each of them exactly twice, but decide against it. They're so caught up in each other I wouldn't be surprised if he stood up and Cassie would be stuck to him in the exact same spot on his chest as though she were strapped to him.

"Hey, hey," Ashley tapped on my shoulder. "I remember in grade 9 you always talked about apocalypses and I know you know a lot of survival stuff so if things go sour..." I looked at her. I hadn't spoken to her in a year.

"Nothing is gonna happen. Things are not like the movies." I tell Ashley.

"Yeah," She threw on a face of fake relief. "I don't even know why I brought it up."

The police got to our door and spoke with Mr. Carro. What little conversation that had started, halted instantly.

"We're just going door to door to make sure the threat isn't in the school and that everyone is remaining calm." The officer said. I recognized him. We got lucky, it's our school cop.

Cassie, of course, asked the big question before our teacher could get a word out. "What is happening?"

Officer Freeman looked at her, straight in the eyes, then to each one of us directly. "We don't know. All we do know is there are people going crazy. They're attacking others unprovoked. And it seems like, well, I don't like saying this but it—others, other people are calling it Walking Dead. It's ridiculous."

Almost everyone pulled out their phones to search Walking Dead in Toronto. Jazze read from her screen. "'As of this morning, around 8 A.M, Toronto has been hit by what students, fans, and young adults are calling 'The Walking Dead Re-run'. The infected attack anyone that crosses their path. Doctors and hospital officials do not yet know how it is transmitted or how it can be stopped. If you have been exposed the symptoms are: increased hunger and appetite, paranoia, lack of pain receptors, increased strength (due to the adrenaline output), apathy, nausea, and mood swings. For your safety and the safety of others, if you recognize any of these symptoms take measures to isolate and restrain yourself until authorities can retrieve you and bring you to a secure location.'"

Jazze paused, reading something else on her phone. "That's the important stuff. There's more about where they think it started and some interviews with people who are pretending they know what's going on while they're clueless... Oh, there's a hash tag—Walking Dead, of course, the apocalypse, Zombietime, Zombified, and—" she glanced up at the teacher and Officer Freeman, "some more inappropriate ones."

"Ok then," Officer Freeman said clapping his hands together. He was shaking. "It seems like you have it all under control so things should be fine. Both here and around the city, now if you'll excuse me, I do have other classes to get to." He turned and closed the door quickly telling Mr. Carro to lock it after he did.

It took all of one second before the quietest kid in class, Fed, said "What. The. Fuck?"