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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Jay, Stacey.
You are so undead to me / by Stacey Jay.
p. cm.

Summary: Megan Berry, a Carol, Arkansas high school student who can communicate
with the Undead, must team up with her childhood friend Ethan to save homecoming
from an army of flesh-hungry zombies.

eISBN : 978-1-101-01940-5

[1. Zombies--Fiction. 2. Dead--Fiction. 3. Supernatural--Fiction. 4. High schools-
Fiction. 5. Schools--Fiction. 6. Interpersonal relations--Fiction. 7. Arkansas--Fiction.]
I. Title.
PZ7.J344Yo 2009
[Fic]--dc22
2008021056

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http://us.penguingroup.com

For Laura Mae-daughter, friend, and fellow smartass.

PROLOGUE

The cold wind swept across the hill, whistling through the headstones that poked from the ground like dozens of crooked baby teeth. In the sky, a sickly yellow moon transformed the graveyard’s bare trees into guardians made of old, white bone, and somewhere in the distance, an animal screamed.

Call me crazy, but I figured whatever was going to happen next
wasn’t
going to be fun. Creepy graveyards aren’t your typical location for good times of the cute-fluffy-bunny-and-rainbows variety.

My lips parted and I tried to cry out, but no sound came, nothing but a pathetic gurgling as the ground beneath me buckled.

Gnarled tree roots burst from the hard earth, wrapping around my arms and legs, lifting me into the air. More silent screams ripped from my throat as the roots flung me down the steep slope, toward the oldest part of the graveyard.

I threw my arms out to the side, trying to stop, but I’d already built too much momentum. Faster and faster I rolled, skin tearing, rocks bruising my bones. By the time I reached the bottom of the slope there was blood on my hands, on my face, smearing across the dead leaves at the edge of three open graves.

And there, from holes in the earth, three sets of glowing red eyes stared into mine, three pairs of gnarled hands reached for my flesh. I knew what they were at once. Zombies.

Rotted flesh hung loosely on their faces, chunks falling away as they groaned in anticipation of their meal. The smell of decay hit me like a physical blow, making me gag. I fought the urge to yack as I gasped for breath, still unable to make a sound.

“Help!” I finally managed to scream as soft, rotted hands latched around my ankles.

There was someone nearby, someone who could help me. I was sure of it. But before I could call out again, the third zombie was on top of me. Ancient teeth tore through my clothes, shredding fabric to get to skin.

I screamed, so loud it seemed someone else was screaming along with me. Frantically, I shoved at the zombie now digging into my shoulder so deep I could hear teeth scraping bone, kicking at the others near my feet and praying someone would hear me before it was too late.

“Nice outfit, Megan.” It was Monica Parsons, fellow zombie Settler and general mistress of evil. She stood above me, watching the zombies feed.

“Help me!”

“Sorry, not into rescuing fashion victims.”

I glanced down, gasping in horror as I saw the god-awful circa- 1980s prom dress that had somehow found its way onto my body. The monstrosity was bright fuchsia except in the places where blood stained it black and probably the most wretched garment ever to see the light of day.

Or the light of the full moon, in this case.

“Does Josh know you’re wearing
that
to homecoming? I really think he should be clued in to what a freak you are.” She whipped out her cell, ready to document my shame with her camera feature.

“No!” I wailed, torn between fighting the zombies on top of me and trying to cover my face to conceal my identity.

“
Desino! Absisto!”
Another voice sounded from the darkness and suddenly the zombie on top of me froze mid-chomp. Seconds later a blurred shape slammed into it, knocking it to the ground, where the pair rolled over and over, all the way to the side of the old church.

I screamed as a chunk of skin disappeared with the zombie but didn’t waste time getting to my feet. My lips were buzzing and blood flowed down my arm to drip from my fingers, but I pushed myself to move faster.

I had to save the person who had helped me, keep him from being eaten. But he was so far away, I’d never reach him time. But I
could
reach—

“Give me your hand!” I screamed to Monica, stumbling across the rocks on my bare feet. Now I was wearing nothing but a torn sleep shirt. I had no idea where my shoes and the ’80s eyesore had gone and I didn’t care. I just needed to get to Monica, get her hand in mine and our power combined before—

“Megan, Monica, run! Get the others, get—” The boy’s voice became a strangled sound and I knew the zombie he’d knocked off of me was back in motion.

I risked a brief look over my shoulder to see the other two zombies lumbering forward, arms outstretched. Something yellow that looked like pus dripped from their mouths, making it clear they were hungry for a taste of the red trail I was leaving behind. But they weren’t that close, not close enough to stop me before I reached Monica.

I grabbed her hand, clinging to it even when she tried to pull away.

“Let me go, freak, we’ve got to—ouch!” Digging my fingers into Monica’s palm, I released every barrier to my power, every wall I’d first learned to erect to keep zombies from following me to the playground when I was five.

“This is it. You are never going to make the pom squad!” But I barely heard Monica now. All I could hear was the roar of blood rushing through my ears and the quieter hiss of more power than I’d ever felt sizzling along my nerve endings, all the way down to my fingertips.

“
Reverto!”
I screamed the word, flinging the power at the approaching zombies with a wave of my free hand. For a moment, the two coming for me hesitated, faltering in their steps.

But then they were on the move again, howling this time, their red eyes glowing with hate and hunger. I screamed, tightening my grip on Monica, unable to make my legs move now that the zombies were so close.

“Say it again!
With me
this time, you stupid—” Monica yelled.

“Okay! Okay,” I sobbed.

“Now!”

“
Reverto!”
We screamed the word together. This time, the zombies spun around, turning toward the woods with another horrible groan. My eyes flew to the tree line, where a figure in a black cloak was disappearing into the forest.

We were safe. At least, Monica and I were. I still hadn’t seen—

“Hello? Are you? . . .” I spun toward the boy who had saved my life, but the world spun as well. My head felt so light I was sure it would float off my neck any minute.

“Wow, Megan. Desperate for attention much?” Monica asked, her words transforming into wicked laughter—laughter which soon spread to the hundreds of people attending the Carol High homecoming dance.

“No!” I wailed, trying to cover myself with my arms.

But it was too late. Everyone had already seen me buck naked in the hot spotlights illuminating the platform where the homecoming queen should have been standing to receive her crown. My shame was complete, my life utterly and completely ruined. I would
never
be able to show my face in Carol again and—

“Ohmygod!” I bolted upright, drenched in sweat despite the fact that I’d deliberately cranked up the air-conditioning before heading to bed. It was a dream, just a dream . . . at least, most of it.

Everything except the attack. The scar on my shoulder wouldn’t let me forget how real that had been.

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