Not Your Average Field Trip

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It was Friday, October 30th, Mischief Night. Joe and his friends had plans to go out that night and cause mayhem. Joe had three cartons of eggs hidden in the back of the mini fridge in his room, concealed by a wall of Mountain Dew and Coke. Joe’s best friend, Alex, had a gallon of bright yellow paint stowed away under his bed, and Joe’s other friend, Jake, had ten rolls of toilet paper buried under the mountains of clothes in his closet. Finally, before they went out, Joe intended on sneaking into his backyard and gathering up as much dog poo as he could find. This was going to be the best night of their lives. Now all they had to do was make it through the school day.

Joe, Jake, and Alex were sitting next to each other in homeroom. Joe and Alex were both thirteen years old. They had been friends since kindergarten. Joe was tall and lanky with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He didn’t care much for sports or video games; he preferred to hang out with his friends. Alex, on the other hand, loved playing football and basketball. He was a little shorter than Joe and more muscular. He had short black hair, and dark brown eyes. Jake was a year older than Joe and Alex. He met them two years earlier when he transferred schools. Jake was a trouble maker. He loved picking fights and getting under peoples’ skin, but he was a good kid at heart.

The boys were discussing what route they were going to take that night, and what houses they were going to hit when their teacher, Mrs. Roxy, walked in.
“Okay students,” said Mrs. Roxy, “pack up your books, the bus is waiting for us outside.”
Uuuuggghhhhh! thought Joe. He had forgotten; they were going on a dumb field trip to a hospital, where they were going to learn about doctors, diseases, injuries, and blah blah blah. Joe had told his mom not to sign him up for the field trip, but she did anyway. So he and his friends climbed onto the bus and plopped down in a three-seater.
“I’m so excited!” exclaimed Alex with a joyous look on his face. Alex was fascinated by injuries, remedies, and the human body. He wanted to be a physician when he grew up, and just the thought of talking to a real-life surgeon gave him butterflies in his stomach.
The bus started moving and Joe laid his head back and closed his eyes. The next thing he knew someone was yelling at him and shaking his arm. He had fallen asleep on the bus ride.
“Wake up. Wake up. Hey Joey, you there? Joey, we’re here you gotta get moving.” Joe groaned and slowly opened his eyes. It was Jake who was talking. The light flooded into his eyes. It hurt.
Joe got up and looked around. The bus was empty except for him, Jake and the driver. “Where’s everyone else?” Joe mumbled.
“They’re out there,” said Jake pointing out the window behind him. The crowd was about halfway to the big glass double doors of the Essex County General Hospital. “Come on Joe,” said Jake, yanking at Joe’s arm, “we need to go catch up to them.”
They hopped off the bus, and Alex was waiting for them. “What took you guys so long?” asked Alex, clearly a little annoyed at missing out on even a few seconds of being in the hospital.
“Sleeping Beauty here didn’t want to get up,” said Jake as the boys started running to catch up with the rest of the group. They walked in to hear Mrs. Roxy talking to the receptionist. Her voice was raised and it was evident that she was getting irritated.
“What do you mean you don’t have us in your books!” yelled Mrs. Roxy, her voice getting louder still.
“We have no eighth grade trip scheduled for today. I’m sorry ma’am. But I really am quite busy and I’m going to have to ask you to step out of line.”
“Okay kids, it seems that there has been a slight change in …”Mrs. Roxy was cut off by a loud bang. Suddenly all the lights went out and there were several screams. There was the sound of a generator starting up somewhere in the building, and within twenty seconds, the lights were back on. They were dimmer than before, and seemed to have an ominous orange glow. It was chilling, and a tad intimidating.
“Mrs. Roxy,” yelled a girl from the back of the group, “where did the receptionist lady go?”
“Why what do you …” Mrs. Roxy turned around and the chair was empty. There were papers scattered on the floor and the counter in front of her was stained blood red. “Oh dear. Okay kids,” said Mrs. Roxy, her voice shaking a little, “let’s just get back on the bus and go back to class.”
“Good idea.” said Alex nervously. He turned around and yanked on the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He yanked and yanked and yanked, but it was like the door was welded to the ground. He started banging on the door but his attempts proved futile. He slumped to the ground and put his head in his hands.
“What is going on?” yelled a boy from class.
“How are we going to get out?” said another.
“I want my mommy!” came another voice.
“Everyone calm down!” demanded Mrs. Roxy. “I am going to look around and see if I can’t find anyone to help us. I’ll be back in five minutes. Okay?”
The students sat there as their teacher walked off down the corridor. They waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes and still no sign of their teacher. Twenty minutes and the students had all but given up on their teacher’s return. The lights were beginning to get darker than they already were.
“Wait a minute!” one student exclaimed. “I have a cell phone! I can call for help.” Students were not supposed to bring their phones with them, but there were always the select few who ignored that rule. The boy dialed 9-1-1 and put it on speaker.
“Riiinggg…riiinggg…riiinggg.” “Come on. Pick up,” said the boy with the phone anxiously. “Riiinggg…*busy tone*.” “What!? No! Busy. Since when is 9-1-1 busy?” Then the busy tone stopped, and there was a short foreboding silence coming from the phone.
“HAHAHAHAHA,” came a wicked little laugh from the phone. “You don’t get it,” said the voice. “You’re not getting help. You…are…going…to…DIE!” The phone went dead.

Everyone in the room shuddered a little. Suddenly, the lights turned off as if somebody had just pulled the plug on the hospital’s generator. The students sat there in icy silence. The only light was the little ray streaming through the windows and front door, but otherwise, it was pitch black.
“HAHAHA,” the same malicious laugh that they had heard on the phone came over through the PA system. “I hope you’re not afraid of the dark.”
“That’s it!” said Joe, “I’m not just going to sit here and wait, hoping something will happen. I’m going out to find something or someone to help us. Who’s coming with me?”
“I will,” said Jake and Alex simultaneously. They both stood up and walked over towards Joe. “Come on guys. There has to be a back door or something,” said Jake. A few more kids stood up and walked towards Joe, Jake and Alex.
“That’s it,” said Joe, and they started walking down the dark, empty corridor using a cell phone flashlight for light. When they were three quarters of the way down the corridor, the group who went with Joe heard a bloodcurdling scream from where they had left the others.
Instantly, Joe and his friends whirled around and sprinted back toward the other group of students. They arrived back in the lobby to find it empty. A quick scan of the room with the flashlight found several more blood stains, three sneakers and what appeared to be a finger!
“No!” exclaimed one of the girls in Joe’s group. “My sister was in that group! I have to find her,” she yelled. Slowly she walked towards the corridor on the other side of the lobby. It was as black as a full eclipse of the sun. She stopped at the edge of the light and looked into what seemed like empty space. Then, a long, green arm covered in open sores that were oozing some sort of mystery fluid reached out of the darkness and grabbed the girl by the neck. It pulled her into the black oblivion and all that could be heard were shrieks of terror and the sound of a demon feasting.
Everyone jumped back in terror and awe. They did nothing to attempt to help the girl for fear for their own lives. Suddenly, a growl came from the darkness; a shoe was flung at the group, and smacked a boy square in the head. He collapsed to the ground like he was deadweight. Then a horde of six or seven of the foulest creatures imaginable emerged from the darkness and converged on the boy’s motionless body; and more kept on coming.
These creatures were short, or so they appeared due to the way they hunched over when they walked. Some of them were green, and others were a pale brown. They were covered in gaping red sores that oozed a vulgar smelling yellow fluid. They had long arms and their mouths never shut unless there was something in them. They seemed to drool an acidic substance that burned a small hole in the spot where it hit the ground. Most of them had scars covering their faces, which had empty eye sockets, and often exposed pieces of skull and brain. Some were missing limbs, some were crawling on the ground, and some didn’t even have heads. Their torsos looked thin and starved. They walked in a stumbling way, much like an intoxicated human, and often fell. They had no hair, and wore tattered t-shirts and pants. Put simply, they were not the most pleasant sight to see.

One of the creatures grabbed the boy’s body by the arms and dragged it back into the darkness. The rest of the creatures’ heads quickly snapped towards the crowd of students witnessing this grotesque horror. Joe, Alex, Jake and one other boy, all that were left, turned and sprinted down the corridor at the other end of the lobby.
“What are those things?” screamed Jake, running as fast as he could. He turned around and saw there were a few chasing them.
“Zombies?” suggested the boy. “That’s what they look like to…OOF.” The boy tripped over a wheel chair and landed flat on his stomach. The fall knocked the wind out of him. He struggled to get up but the zombies held him down and slowly began to drag him back towards the other group of zombies. Joe and his friends kept running. There was nothing they could do for the poor boy. He was a goner, and so were they if they didn’t speed it up. Jake glanced back, a fatal mistake. He had to slow down to look backwards, and that allowed the zombies to get just close enough to him to grab him by the arm and yank him back.
Alex and Joe had no other choice but to keep running and looking for an exit. After about ten minutes of nonstop running, Joe and Alex began to get tired. They had to find a way to get out. They weren’t ready to die. Joe and Alex rounded a corner and there was a zombie there waiting for them. It jumped at them. Joe managed to sidestep it, but Alex was not so lucky. The zombie hit him head on, tackling him to the ground. Alex didn’t just give up; he was going to fight to survive. He tumbled on the ground with the zombie. The zombie ended up on top, staring into Alex’s eyes blankly. Its mouth was overflowing with saliva and some of it dripped on Alex’s shirt. It burned right through his shirt and seared his skin. Alex punched the zombie in the face and it fell off him. He then kicked the creature right in its head, and the head went flying off. Then, he ripped off its arms and legs so it couldn’t crawl. He used the detached limbs in a final attempt to save himself by trying to use them to fight off the crowd of zombies rushing towards him. It worked well until the zombies backed him against a wall. They closed in on Alex and brought him down.
Joe was the only one left. He ran, and ran until he found a supply closet and ran in. He closed the door and locked it. Using the cell phone flashlight he scanned the room for a weapon of some sort. He found some gloves, some needles, a wheelchair, a stretcher, bottles of various drugs, and SCALPELS! He grabbed a scalpel as the zombies started beating on the door. He knew it wouldn’t hold too long, so he stood there and waited for the door to give. And when it did, in came the flood. Hundreds upon thousands of sickening creatures rushed into the room hungry for their next victim. Joe used the scalpel, and although it was sharp, it was small and at times ineffective. He often was forced to revert to hand-to-hand combat. Joe fought valiantly, holding off the horde for hours until finally he could take it no more. But he wasn’t going to go out that way. He wasn’t going to let those zombies get him, so he took the scalpel and thrust it into his chest. He collapsed to the ground motionless, his body inert, but he was at peace now.
What happened to all the zombies, you ask? Where did they come from? What happens now? Are they contained in the hospital? Do they run loose in the town? All these questions will be answered in good time.





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