Day 6.
Carl was enjoying a rare moment of porch peace. The sun was barely up, and all that stirred were birds, wind, and a squirrel attempting a hostile takeover of the compost bin.
The coffee in his hand was lukewarm, the chair creaked with familiarity, and for once, no one was screaming.
Then Ellie burst out the front door wearing a backpack, boots, and a cape made of bubble wrap.
"I'm going to school!" she declared, slamming the screen door behind her.
Carl blinked. "No, you're not. School is dead. Literally. The building's probably a zombie by now."
Ellie pointed to the chicken coop, which now had a whiteboard taped to the side.
Written in all caps:
> ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE ACADEMY – EST. LAST WEEK
Curriculum: Survival 101, Trap Engineering, Emotional Resilience, Cooking with Canned Goods, Bird Language (Advanced)
Toby appeared behind her in a colander helmet and a chestplate made of plastic plates. "I'm the principal-slash-janitor-slash-chief engineer. Today's field trip is to the compost pile."
Carl sipped his coffee again. "Fine. Just don't come back with a diploma made out of raccoon."
"That was one time!" Toby shouted.
Ellie turned and gave Carl a serious look. "Education never stops, Dad. Even if the internet does."
"Especially when the internet does," Toby added solemnly.
---
Inside the Coop-Classroom
The "students" were Ellie, Toby, and two chickens Nana refused to name because "naming them makes them less edible."
The chalkboard was an old baking tray nailed to the coop wall. Their desks were upside-down milk crates. A crooked banner hung overhead:
> "EDUCATION IS RESISTANCE. ALSO BRING SNACKS."
The chickens were wearing tiny cardboard name tags: Cluck Norris and Eggatha Christie.
Ellie stood in front of the class with a stick like a pointer. She tapped a drawing of a zombie that looked like it had been sketched by a caffeinated raccoon.
"Today's lesson: How to tell if your neighbor is secretly a zombie."
Toby raised his hand. "Is it bad if they only talk about astrology and never blink?"
Ellie nodded. "That's a red flag. Also, if they don't laugh at fart jokes. Or if they moan when you offer them cookies."
Carl peeked inside. "I once knew a guy like that. Pretty sure he was a finance major."
A chicken clucked in agreement.
Nana passed by the coop with a laundry basket. "And if they try to sell you essential oils as a cure, they're either a zombie or an MLM recruiter. Same difference."
Toby scribbled furiously in his notebook labeled "Definitive Zombie Research Vol. 1."
Carl leaned on the window. "Do you kids even have recess?"
"We have tactical snack windows," Ellie corrected. "And lunch has been replaced by Canned Goods Identification Hour. Yesterday, I found an expired can of something called 'meatball slurry.'"
"Sounds like it fights back," Carl muttered.
---
Extended Study Period
In the next lesson, Ellie reviewed tactical communication using walkie-talkies made from soup cans and string.
Toby kept insisting the string could pick up alien frequencies if wrapped around a crystal.
"That's not how physics works," Ellie argued.
"It does in cartoons," Toby countered.
Carl, watching this debate from the porch with a mug of reheated coffee, shook his head. "Somewhere, an actual science teacher just flinched."
The chickens pecked at chalk dust and nodded like professors.
Nana, now pruning the tomatoes nearby, called out, "Add gardening to the curriculum. The zucchinis are planning something. I can feel it."
---
Toby introduced a new course after lunch: Trap Engineering 102: Practical Chaos. He wore a bandolier of zip ties and carried a notebook titled How to Scare Adults Using String and Duct Tape.
Ellie sat cross-legged with a pile of materials: yarn, bells, tin cans, old shoes, and glitter.
"Today's assignment," Toby announced, "is to build a trap that's both confusing and hilarious."
Ellie immediately started gluing feathers to a mousetrap.
Carl wandered over, finishing a can of root beer. "This looks like the opening of a lawsuit."
"Only if we use fire," Ellie replied.
"Which we won't," Toby added, nervously hiding a box of matches.
---
Testing Zone Alpha: Nana's Driveway
The trap testing began with what Toby called "low-risk encounters."
They lured Carl into the trap zone with the promise of a donut.
Step one: a tripwire made of dental floss.
Step two: a falling bucket of flour.
Step three: bubble wrap landmines.
Carl walked right into it.
Poof. Flour exploded like a bakery had a breakdown.
Pop-pop-pop went the bubble wrap.
Ellie screamed, "SUCCESS!"
Carl coughed flour and glitter. "I taste muffins."
Toby scribbled a grade: "A+ for execution. B- for forgiveness potential."
Nana leaned out the window. "Rule #22: If you prank someone bigger than you, prepare to run."
---
Apocalypse History Class
Back inside the coop, Ellie stood before a map of their neighborhood drawn in crayon.
"Let's talk history," she said. "Last Tuesday, zombies started biting. Mr. Harold from the deli became Patient Zero of our block."
Toby raised his hand. "I still say it was the chicken nuggets."
"No, it was definitely Harold. He said, 'I don't feel so good' and then bit a mailbox."
Carl, now brooming up flour on the porch, muttered, "Rest in peace, Harold. And my coupons."
"From there," Ellie continued, "we saw two main developments: panic hoarding and the Great Toaster Fight of Apartment 4C."
Toby nodded. "Truly a dark time."
---
Lunch (Sort Of)
Their noon meal was an unidentified canned substance on crackers. Ellie called it "Mystery Meat Pâté." Toby insisted on heating his with a magnifying glass.
Carl joined them with his own plate—grilled cheese made indoors with Nana's solar-powered griddle.
"I still don't trust your lunch," he said.
Ellie took a bite. "It's… chewy. Possibly squirrel-adjacent."
Toby sniffed his spoon. "This might be what broke Harold."
Nana passed by and dropped an actual note card into their table:
> "Rule #35: If you can't name it, don't make it the main course."
---
Apocalypse P.E.
The kids set up an obstacle course around the yard using hoses, lawn chairs, garden gnomes, and Carl as a moving distraction.
"Obstacle: Cranky Dad," Ellie said.
"Distraction: Surprise Nerf gun fire," added Toby.
Carl sighed. "How do I keep ending up as the target?"
"Because you're good at dodging!" Ellie called, firing foam darts.
Carl caught one. "I used to dodge student loan emails. This is nothing."
They timed their runs. Ellie won by crawling under a laundry line while holding Eggatha Christie.
"Chicken sprint bonus!" she cheered.
Toby marked it in the records.
---
End-of-Day Review
Back at the coop, Ellie gave a speech from a milk crate podium.
"Today we learned to prank, survive, and digest questionable meat. Tomorrow we study camouflage. Bring leaves."
Toby saluted. "Long live the coop."
Carl tossed a chalkboard eraser. "And maybe write a math problem next time."
Ellie pointed at the chicken. "That's Cluck Norris' job."
The chicken blinked slowly.
Carl shook his head. "Still better than my middle school teacher."
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End of Chapter 6 – Apocalypse School
> "Because even if the world ends, recess is forever."
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