After Life by Daniel Kelley Page A

and tried the door. It opened and the two men saw Barry Lowensen sitting at his desk. He was working feverishly at his computer and had a half-empty shaker of an amber liquid next to him.
    “Web sites are going crazy,” Lowensen said without turning away from the screen. “Out-Theres is down, it seems, but every message board, every chat room is going crazy. Everyone’s just tap-tapping away.
    “Don’t know why,” he continued, finally turning away from the screen. He looked up at the two men with an odd smile, though Andy noticed he failed to meet either man’s eye. “If it’s me, I stay as far away from the computer as I can get.” He looked back at his computer, then shrugged and almost laughed. “What’s up?”
    “‘What’s up?’” Andy repeated.
    “Yeah,” Lowensen said. “You guys have had the place locked down for a half-hour. What brings you here now?” He finished the drink in his glass.
    “What…” Roger started. “Are we okay down here? We haven’t heard anything from you, the other teachers, administrators…” Lowensen offered them a smile, but Andy thought it looked forced. Lowensen’s eyes did not reflect the feelings of his mouth.
    “How many of you made it?” Lowensen asked, ignoring Roger’s question. He then seemed to disregard his own question as well by standing up and turning toward his filing cabinet. He opened the top drawer and paused, looking inside. With what looked to Andy like unease, Lowensen reached in and pulled out a gun. With no holster, Lowensen tucked the weapon into the waistband of his pants. He turned and strode past the two men, out of the room and out into the hallway.
    “It was about 40, 45 maybe,” Andy said as he spun around and followed Lowensen. The teacher was walking very quickly, his shoulders back, his head high. “Plus the people trapped in the cafeteria, but we can’t save them now.” Andy watched the teacher’s gait for signs of a reaction at hearing about people trapped, but he saw none.
    Lowensen ignored the men as he walked, ignored the cafeteria as he passed it. Andy vaguely registered that he should have been sad himself, devastated even, by the tableau in the cafeteria, but he hadn’t been. A week ago, when he had accidentally hit a cat with his car, Andy had been sad for hours, but the return of the zombies had flipped a switch in him. He knew the sadness should be there, but it wasn’t.
    Finally, the three of them reached the classroom. Lowensen pulled the door open for the other two, who passed through ahead of him. He started to follow, but stopped at the threshold. “Mr. Ehrens,” he said in a whisper, barely loud enough for Andy to hear.
    “Mr. Lowensen?” Lowensen waved for Andy to follow him back out into the hallway. Andy came back out. Roger turned and saw, and started to follow, but Lowensen waved him back and shut the door, leaving Roger and everyone else inside.
    Once they were alone, Andy watched the teacher crumble before him. He staggered back against the wall, then slid down until he was curled into a seated position. He buried his face into his hands and breathed deeply. When Lowensen looked up, Andy could see redness in both of his eyes.
    “You know what to do,” Lowensen said, his voice still barely above a whisper. “You were out there last time, you know what to do. You know what to do. Didn’t want to tell anyone else without knowing if they know what to do. But you know what to do.”
    “Lowensen?” Andy said, his nerves rising. “Lowensen, what are you talking about?”
    “You do know what to do, don’t you?”
    “What to do? We stay here. There’s food, locked doors. What is there to know?”
    Lowensen had started shaking his head as soon as Andy mentioned food, and it grew more and more violent. “There’s no food. No food.”
    Andy stood still. He narrowed his eyes, trying to determine if the teacher was pulling some crazy prank. Finally, he decided to believe him.