Why I Quit Zombie School (8 page)

He pulled my T-shirt tighter. And then he blinked a few times, startled. “Hey — this dude has a heartbeat!” he boomed. “I can hear it. A heartbeat!”

Uh-oh.

No way to talk my way out of this one.

Their angry cries rang out through the steamy air.

I ducked my head and took off. I darted right between the big guy’s legs.

Hands grabbed for me. Guys stumbled toward me.

But I ran right through them. That was the one advantage of being alive. I was faster than them.

I rocketed to the locker room door. Shoved it open with both hands and ran full speed into the gym.

A few kids were still trotting around the floor. Coach Meadows looked up. He opened his mouth to call to me. But I was already out of there.

I hurtled out the back door. The afternoon sun was low in the sky. Shielding my eyes, I ran toward the playing fields.

Where was I headed? I didn’t know. I only knew I had to get away from these guys.

Glancing back, I saw eight or ten of them come bursting out the back door. They weren’t going to give up. They knew they had a living kid in school.

And they didn’t want me to stay alive for long.

My sneakers slid on the smooth grass. I ran across the soccer field.

Behind me, they grunted and groaned as they forced their dead legs forward.

I had a good head start. And I could run a lot faster.

But they didn’t give up. They just kept coming. Waving their arms in front of them as if ready to grab me at any moment.

I was breathing hard. But my legs felt strong. I knew I could outrun them.

I was nearly across the soccer field when I felt a sharp pain in the back of my head.

I was hit. A soccer ball hit me in the back of the head. I stumbled forward.

Fell hard.

I was down. Down on the grass.

Caught. The zombies had me.

Their ugly grunts and groans grew louder as they staggered toward me.

I raised my head, stunned. Pain rolled down my body. The back of my head throbbed.

“Ohhhh.” A low moan escaped my throat as I spread both hands on the grass.

I gave a hard push and forced myself to stand.

Behind me, I glimpsed a zombie kid fall and start to roll toward me. Another guy tripped over him and went down. But several others kept coming, hands outstretched to grab me.

I took a deep breath. I shook off my dizziness and took off again.

But I didn’t have far to run.

At the back of the soccer field, I ran right up to the tall black fence. It rose like a wall, high above my head. I glanced from side to side. The fence seemed to stretch forever.

A cry of panic escaped my throat. The groaning zombies moved closer. They had me trapped against the fence.

I turned and started to run full speed. I searched for a door … a gate … an opening … a crack. Anything I could slip through.

Nothing. No way through.

Behind me, I saw a zombie kid stumble and fall. Two kids fell on top of him. The others stopped to help them to their feet.

I spotted a big, square rock poking up from the grass. Catching my balance, I gazed at it for a moment.

Then, I didn’t think. I just moved.

I took a few steps back. Came running at the rock. Took a long leap onto it. Hoisted my hands high over my head. And flew up to the top of the fence.

I wrapped both hands over the top — and swung myself up.

“Whooooa!” I uttered a long cry as I sailed over the top of the fence and dropped onto the dirt on the other side.

“Oooof.”
I landed hard on my back. The collision with the ground knocked the wind from my lungs.

I lay there choking and gasping. I could hear the low groans and muttering from the zombie kids on the other side of the fence.

Did they see me hurtle over the fence?

I was still on my back. I stared up to the top of the fence. I expected to see them follow me over it.

But I heard their clumsy footsteps move along the high fence. Their shouts and groans faded. They hadn’t seen me. They kept running.

With a sigh of relief, I stood up. My legs felt shaky. I steadied myself.

I brushed dirt off the front of my clothes and glanced around.

To my surprise, I was standing in a graveyard.

Rows and rows of low gravestones poked up from the flat dirt. The stones were white and looked pretty new.

The graveyard was completely walled in. The fence rose high above me, and I didn’t see a door or a gate anywhere.

I was totally boxed in. Yes, I was safe from the zombie kids on the other side. But the sun was going down. Soon, it would be dark.

I didn’t want to be trapped in this graveyard in the dark. No way.

I listened hard. The voices on the other side had vanished. Had the zombie kids given up and gone back to the school?

A sudden wind blew through the graveyard, making some of the stones creak. I turned and started to walk between the first two rows of graves.

“Whoa.” I stopped about three graves in. Stopped and stared at the name on the tombstone.

Way ne. Angelo’s brother.

And the next stone? It was Angelo’s.

The twins were buried here. Did that mean all of the zombie Romero kids had their gravestones in this cemetery?

Yes. On the end of the row, I saw Ernie’s grave. And a few stones down the stone was engraved for Angelo’s friend Mikey.

Each name sent a chill down my back.

The kids were all buried here. But of course most of the graves were empty. Because the kids
were undead. Because they had climbed up from their graves and … and …

I read the name on the next grave and gasped in shock. I froze. My eyes bulged. I had to read the name a second time.

“Oh, noooooo,” I moaned. “I … don’t … believe … it.”

Franny’s tombstone.

I was staring at Franny’s tombstone.

“She lied to me,” I murmured.

Franny was a zombie, too. She told me she was alive. She said the two of us were the only living kids at Romero.

Why did she lie?

My mind began to spin. All the things she said to me flashed back into my brain.

She lied. She lied. She lied.

Franny only pretended to be my friend. She only pretended that she wanted to help me.

Why? Because she was watching me the whole time. Spying on me.

That had to be the truth. She pretended to be my friend so she could spy on me for the other zombie kids.

I suddenly felt like a total jerk.

I believed her. I trusted her. I really liked her.

She was lying the whole time.

And now here I was, trapped in this graveyard. Staring at the tombstones of all the kids in the school. Kids who didn’t want me to stay alive.

I spun away from Franny’s grave. I began walking along the fence. I searched for a way out. And I listened for the zombie kids to return.

But it was silent on the other side. I remembered Franny saying no one ever wanted to come back here because it was so sad and depressing.

She was right.

I made a complete survey of the high fence. No door. No exit of any kind.

I sat down and leaned my back against the fence. I watched the sun slowly drop. Long shadows fell over the graveyard. Then … total darkness.

I shivered. The wind was cold and sharp. I hugged my knees and waited.

How long would I be here? Forever?

My stomach growled. I suddenly realized I was starving. In the dark, the tombstones looked like big teeth poking up from the ground.

How late was it? I couldn’t tell. The moon was hidden by heavy clouds.

I jumped when I heard a sound nearby. At the fence. A soft
thump
.

Then a scraping sound. Another soft
thump
.

I climbed to my feet and turned toward the sound.

In the gray light, I saw something move on the fence. I couldn’t tell what it was. I walked closer. Slowly. Carefully.

It slithered and bumped at the wood planks. I stopped, squinting hard at it.

At first I thought it was a snake. Then I saw
two
of them.

Two long snakes stretching down the wall?

I took a step closer. Then another. No. Not snakes. A rope ladder.

Someone had tossed a rope ladder over the fence. I walked up to it.

“Who’s there?” I called.

Silence.

“Who’s there?” I repeated. The gusting wind muffled my voice. “Who’s there? Who flung this rope ladder down?”

No answer.

I tightened my hands around the sides of the ladder. The rope felt rough against my palms.

I hoisted myself up onto the lowest rung.

“Who’s there?” I tried again.

No answer.

Was it a trap?

I had no choice. I couldn’t hide in this graveyard forever. I had to take a chance.

I slid my hands higher and pulled myself to the top.

I stared down at Franny, who was holding the other end of the rope ladder.

“Hurry,” she whispered. She glanced behind her toward the school. “I guessed where you were hiding. But someone might have followed me.”

I scrambled down the ladder. I was happy to be on the other side, out of the graveyard.

I wiped my hands on my shirt. Then I turned to Franny.

The moon floated out from behind the clouds. Moonlight washed over her pale face.

“You lied to me,” I said. “You’re one of them.”

She lowered her eyes. “I know,” she replied in a whisper.

“Why?” I asked.

Clouds made her face darken again. She flickered in and out of shadows, like a ghost.

“I had to,” she said. “They made me.”

She tugged the rope ladder off the wall. She folded it carefully between her hands. Then she tossed it to the ground by the fence.

“It’s not safe here,” she said. She glanced to the school again.

“Tell me the truth,” I insisted. “What do you mean they made you?”

She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “They said I had to spy on you. They need to know about every new kid. Just to make sure a live one doesn’t come here by mistake. So … it was my turn to spy on the new kid. You.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why did you
help
me? If you were spying on me, why did you help me fool them?”

She glanced away. “I just liked you,” she said. “It’s been so long since I hung out with a living kid. So I tried to help you keep your secret.”

“But —”

She raised a hand to silence me. “They’re going to be waiting for you,” she said.

I swallowed. “You mean I can’t go back to my room?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “They’re going to be waiting for you in the morning. They said they’re going to give you the final test. The test to see once and for all if you really are undead.”

“Oh, wow.” I shook my head. A cold shudder ran down my back.

I grabbed her arm. “Franny — tell me. What’s the final test?”

Her eyes locked on mine. “Okay,” she whispered. “This is the final test. First, they throw you in the old stone quarry and force you to stay underwater.”

“F-for how long?” I stammered.

“At least twenty minutes,” she answered. “But there’s a lot more, Matt. A kid from the high school is going to run his SUV over you. Then they will throw you off Leapers’ Cliff. You know — that rock cliff overlooking town?”

My mouth hung open. I could feel the blood pulsing at my temples.

“That’s the final test?” I croaked. “They drown me. They run an SUV over me. And they heave me over a cliff?”

Franny nodded. “A lot of kids pass the test easily.”

“But I
can’t
!” I cried. “I can’t pass that test. I’m
alive
!”

She started walking toward the school. I hurried to catch up to her.

“Franny,” I said. “What can I do? How can I survive that test?”

She turned to me, her eyes wide with sadness. “I don’t know,” she said. “I sure hope you think of something. Good luck, Matt.”

I sneaked back into my room. I had a few bags of potato chips hidden in a dresser drawer. I gulped them down for my dinner.

I kept all the lights off in case someone came looking for me. I climbed into bed, but I couldn’t fall asleep.

My brain was churning. I could almost hear it chugging away in my head, sending out all kinds of crazy thoughts.

There
had
to be a way to survive the test. If only it didn’t involve drowning, getting run over,
and
being tossed over a cliff.

I was drenched in sweat. I jumped out of bed in a total panic. It was two in the morning. I knew I’d be awake all night. But I was too frightened to think clearly.

I paced back and forth in my tiny room. Finally, my eyes landed on the rubber hand I’d used at the party. That hand got me out of trouble — at least for a while.

Maybe … maybe …

I began to get an idea.

What if I distracted them? What if I used my horror makeup and all my horror stuff? What if I did it right this time?

Maybe I could make myself look so much like a zombie, they wouldn’t bother with the test.

That was my idea.

A desperate idea, for sure. But what else could I try?

I went to work. I wanted to turn myself into something horrifying, a creature of the undead.

I ripped long gashes in my jeans and T-shirt. I painted a big, blood-soaked open wound on my chest.

I studied it in the mirror. The bleeding wound looked so real, it made my stomach leap.

I dragged out these funny trick shoes my dad bought me in a Hollywood costume store. The shoes were cut in front. They made it look as if my toes had been sliced off.

I sat down in front of the mirror with my makeup kit and fake skin pieces. I worked slowly and carefully. I gave myself the best horror makeup job I’d ever done.

My chin and cheeks dripped with decaying globs of skin. I gave myself one empty eye socket, just a deep black hole where my eye should be. I marked deep gashes in my throat. I put blood-soaked streaks in my hair.

That was all good, but I wasn’t finished. I turned one arm into a bloody stump. Then I hid the other arm under my T-shirt.

Nice touch,
I thought.

I studied myself in the mirror. “Disgusting,” I murmured to myself. “Totally gross and disgusting.”

I had turned myself into the most zombie-looking zombie in the history of zombies.

But would it be enough to impress the
real
zombies in my school?

Would it be enough to save my life?

I’d soon find out. It was morning. I opened the door. They were all waiting for me outside my room.

I staggered toward them, my heart pounding.

Could I fool them?