Zombie Elementary (6 page)

I’m not sure if I said this already, but I’m a lefty.
I hit left-handed. I write and eat and brush my teeth left-handed too, but that doesn’t really come into the story. So, if I get a good swing, I can really surprise the opposing team by putting the ball into either right or left field, depending.

I was gonna get a real good swipe at that ball.

Nick pitched, and it went waaaaay over to my right. About knee height as well. Ball one.

Nick tried again. He wound up, but dropped the ball. It wobbled forward about nine inches. Umpire signaled ball two.

Third try just dribbled along the ground. It was sad. I’d figured the Pirates’ coach would take Nick out of the game before he let it get this bad. I was amazed he hadn’t done it already. Probably because
their second-string pitcher had only just turned nine years old, was three-feet ten-inches tall and had forgotten his glasses.

No, seriously. We’ve played them before.

Nick was still on the mound. He squinted at me. His eyes were bloodshot. He opened his mouth in a crazy kind of grin. He wound up the ball and delivered it right at me.

At about half his normal speed.

I slammed it straight into left field. It went waaay far, and I dropped the bat and took off for first base. Will had made it home, and John and Gary were pumping around the bases. I made first, but I saw that one of the zombie van kids had picked up the ball and then dropped it. I kept going. The kid stumbled around and fell over. I headed for third.

Then someone stepped in front of me.

Alex.

He had those arms stuck out again, and he was moaning, “
BRAIINNNSSS
!!!!”

One of the fielders took up the groan. “
BRAIINNNSS
!!
NNGAARRRGGGGHHH
!!!!”

The umpire was signaling something, but it’s not like zombies worry about the rules of baseball or anything.

So I dropped my shoulder left, like I was gonna run in front of Alex. As he staggered forward with his teeth showing, I took off to my right and cut behind him. I might have caught his ankle with my foot, but I’m not admitting to that. He tripped, spun around and almost grabbed me as I sprinted past him. I’m lucky that he was trying to grab with his glove. He couldn’t get a grip on me.

I made it past third.

All the Tigers’ parents were yelling. The non-zombie Pirates were yelling. The Pirates’ coach was screaming at his team, ’specially at the zombie fielder who had fallen over again. The ball was lying somewhere out on the field, but I don’t think anyone even knew where it was.

Grand slam!!!! Four–zip, Tigers.

I gotta tell you, I was thinking that we’d go through the whole batting order and start over again with Will. I mean, how were these guys gonna get any of us out?

I found out how.

The coach took Nick out, but he didn’t put the little nine-year-old in to pitch. He had a new kid, a transfer student who had just come to our school after Christmas. I think he’s called Eric Roof. Anyhow, Eric’s okay. He’s better than okay.

He struck out Jermaine right away. Jermaine’s not the best batter on our team, but I figured he could hit at least one ball. Not that day, it seemed. Oh well.

Then we had the coach’s kid, Joey Chicka, who’s no better with a bat than with pitching. He swung three times, missed them all, and we had two outs.

It was Hunter Jordan up next. He’d laced his too-big shoes up real tight, and there was this serious look of concentration on his face. Hunter was gonna hit that ball, you betcha!

We were all rooting for him. I had my fingers crossed so hard it hurt. Eric was ready to take a
third Tiger out (which would finish our inning). He fidgeted with the ball and turned to face away from the batter. You could tell he was thinking about the pitch. But I guess turning around wasn’t a great idea, ’cause he saw that Alex was stalking him. Alex had come up behind him quietly, arms outstretched. From where I was, I saw Eric’s eyes bug out. He turned around again, slung the ball toward Hunter and took off across the field toward the parking lot. Hunter swiped at the ball and it went straight to Alex.

No, it went straight
at
Alex. Like, right into his chest. And stuck. Umpire called Hunter out.

It was the Pirates’ turn to bat.
Normally the changeover is pretty much what you’d expect: one team goes off the field and into the dugout; the other team takes up fielding positions. It’s a no-brainer, right? I said this to Jermaine.

“Yeah, but the other team has no brains, Lar. And they want ours.”

He was right. I looked over the whole field.

The Pirates had six guys shambling toward the dugout. Alex was in front, arms out, all “
NNGAAARRRGGGHHH
!!!!” A couple of the other kids were doing the same thing. One younger boy was chirruping, “
BRAIINNNSSS!
” in a real high voice. The others were just sorta dopey. Nick fell over his feet.

Wait a minute. I knew Eric had taken off running a moment before. And the catcher had run away from
the minivan before the game began, though that didn’t change the number of players on the field. There should have been nine, minus Eric, which equaled …

I had to think about it for a sec.

“Over there!” Jermaine pointed out a body lying in the outfield. “He fell over and couldn’t figure out how to get up again!”

Not too smart, these zombies.

“And there—there’s another one!”

I looked to where he was pointing. Another boy was running like crazy through the parking lot toward the highway.

None of the adults noticed a thing. Our coach was arguing with our players. The Pirates’ coach was yelling at his players. He was shouting real loud because most of them were just not listening to him.

“He doesn’t get it,” said Jermaine. “You can’t make a zombie follow instructions. They are mindless brain-eating creatures.”

I guess that was true but, all the same, the Pirates were getting ready to bat. Even the mindless brain-eating creatures. Maybe zombies just like to play baseball. I know I do.