Free The Day the Dead Came to Show and Tell by Mira Grant Page A

with the phone.”
    â€œIt’s not the phone,” said Mr. O’Toole. “If you had asked me before you decided to panic yourself and your fellow students, I could have explained that you would be unable to get a call out. When the alarm starts ringing, the cell blockers in the school’s communication network activate. None of us can make calls out right now.”
    Joseph stared at him, slack-jawed. His tongue was dry, probably from panic, so he swallowed hard to moisten it before asking, “Why would they do that? Who thinks that’s a good idea?” Murmurs rose from the classroom around him, echoing the sentiment.
    Mr. O’Toole pressed a hand to his temple, like it hurt, and thrust his hand out again. “The phone, Joseph, please.”
    â€œBut I didn’t even make a call!”
    â€œThe rules are still very clear about cellphones in class.” Mr. O’Toole gave his hand an admonishing shake. “You can have it back after the end of the day.”
    â€œThis is so unfair,” said Joseph, and slapped the phone—now thoroughly contaminated by fomite traces—into Mr. O’Toole’s hand.
    â€œLife is unfair,” said Mr. O’Toole. “As for who thought blocking cell communications from the campus was a good idea, it was recommended by our state’s governor when he approved the current security plans used by this campus, and our sister schools. It prevents local law enforcement from being swamped by calls from students—like yourself—when the alarm goes off. If there is any need for law enforcement, they will be contacted by the office. It helps keeps things under control. It prevents a panic.”
    â€œBut you can’t get the office on the phone,” said Joseph, looking more concerned than ever. “What happens to us if the office doesn’t call the police?”
    Mr. O’Toole—who was five minutes away from wiping his eye with one contaminated hand, and who would not need to worry about complicated issues like cellphones and law enforcement for very much longer—didn’t have an answer. “Everyone, take out your history books and turn to chapter twenty-three,” he said, turning and walking back toward the front of the room. “If we’re going to be stuck in here, we’re going to use our time productively.”
    The groan that rose from the collected students was briefly louder than the persistently ringing alarm, and could almost have been mistaken for a moan.
    *  *  *
    When asked why he had approved legislation that included the installation of cellular and wireless communication blocks in all elementary and middle schools, Governor Wilson (D) replied, “This system was recommended by some of the top minds in private and military security. I am shocked and ashamed by the manner in which it has failed our schools. It has failed our students. I have failed our students. We will be auditing the entire security structure of our schools, and there will not be another Evergreen. Not on my watch. Not in Washington.”
    Governor Wilson did not complete his review of the school security systems before the next election, when he was defeated by his opponent, Heather Benson (R), the mother of Emily Benson, who had died while under the care of Miss Elaine Oldenburg. Despite running for office on a school security and personal tragedy platform, Governor Benson did not change any of the previous governor’s policies. As of this writing, fifty-seven Washington elementary and middle schools are still designed to block all outgoing cellular or wireless transmissions during an emergency situation.
    Thus far, Governor Wilson has been correct: there has not been another Evergreen. It is less clear whether his words will remain true as the years go by, or whether they will become one more lie in the tapestry of untruths that has defined the educational system in this