*zip pop stuff stuff zip stuff pop stuff zip stuff*...Groovy.

On Monday began a schoolwide game of Humans v. Zombies. The rules:

If a zombie tags you, you become a zombie. Last one standing wins, with prizes for the top three.
Zombies must wear green Zs (provided) to mark themselves and must be wearing said Z to make any tags.
Indoors are safe zones. Puppy-guarding is illegal.
A zombie pegged with a hackeysack or tennis ball may not tag anyone for five minutes.

The endgame has begun. I checked the scoreboard in the main hall before lunch today, and there were few enough survivors for a hit list to have been posted. When I saw it, only half the people on the hit list were still alive, including a only two seniors. One is Ratched. The other is me.

Even on Monday I was sticking to the backroads of campus, but now that I have a real chance of winning, I'm stepping it up. Today I ditched my rolling backpack for something more portable on the run and worked on inciting class pride amongst the Senior zombies. On that note, Ratched and I are now being viewed as favorable winners, and I have heard that there is money on me. I do not intend to disappoint.

Tomorrow I am fortunate enough to have a minimum of 35 minutes between classes, so I can take backroads as long and secret as necessary (such as circumnavigating the entire middle school). Some senior zombies have even promised to protect the two of us and focus on hunting down the underclassmen. Oh, and tomorrow I'll be armed to the teeth. I was packing a soccer ball for most of Monday (not legal ammo for neutralization, but possibly a tripping weapon), and by Tuesday morning I had gotten my hands on a tennis ball. After rummaging through the garage and my wardrobe, I will be armed with no less than twenty rounds to supplement my stealth tactics (which have worked well so far; not once have I been chased). Unfortunately, the Death Valley instructor remains unzombified and will be very hard to bring down, as he is an excellent runner and rarely goes outside.

Let's get it on.

*later that evening*

I have just learned that only 3 upperclassmen remain alive (Red, Ratched, and myself). Since the top 3 all get recongized, I think it's time to orchestrate an Order 66 on everyone else. Currently, Public Enemy #1 is the Death Valley instructor, and I am working on a conspiracy to neutralize him. Not easy when nobody seems to be home right now.

*later still*

Word is spreading among the eager seniors, and I have agents in the lower grades warning the zombies off the bait--I mean Red. Tomorrow at lunch, Public Enemy #1 may very well fall.