It Spells Z-O-M-B-I-E! Page 3

“Emily,” Abby began in a calm voice. Too calm.

  “I’m sure you think I’m crazy,” Emily said stiffly.

  Abby shook her head. “No—not at all,” she replied. “I think you’re scared. Like, scared isn’t even the word for it. Terrified, maybe. And whether or not zombies are real, your fear is totally real.”

  “It’s kind of like a phobia,” Nora spoke up.

  “Maybe it is,” Emily admitted.

  “Why zombies, though?” Leah asked.

  “I’m not entirely sure,” Emily said. “I know I’ve been afraid of them for as long as I could remember. I think it might go back to this game my cousin used to bring over to my apartment when I was little, like in kindergarten. It was called Z Curse. She always said it was a one-of-a-kind game. I just thought it was horrible.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Abby said.

  “It was a board game with four die,” Emily explained. “One had five sides, and the others had seven sides. Each side had a different letter of the alphabet. On every turn, you had to roll the die in hopes of getting a letter Z, O, M, B, I, or E. If you didn’t get one of the letters, you couldn’t move forward. And if you didn’t get to the finish line first, you would be cursed—cursed to become a zombie!”

  “That was a game?” Nora asked in disbelief. “It sounds terrible.”

  “So not fun,” added Leah.

  Emily shivered and rubbed her arms. “As you can imagine, I lost a lot when my cousin and I played Z Curse. I remember my cousin saying that zombies would come for me if I didn’t win the game and they’d turn me into one of them,” she said. “I guess it really stuck in my head. Because some part of me has been . . . waiting for zombies to knock on my front door for a long, long time.”

  Abby leaned over to give Emily a hug. “I promise you that’s not going to happen,” she said. “Not now. Not ever. It’s just not possible, Em.”

  “I know,” Emily replied. “On some level, I mean, I know that. I know my cousin was just trying to freak me out when she described zombies—what they do, how they look, even how they smell—”

  “Ew,” Leah said, wrinkling her nose.

  “You can imagine why I got so scared,” Emily continued. “I was only five years old.”

  “I’m sorry, but your cousin sounds awful,” Nora said with a frown. “So mean.”

  “Yeah, I guess it was kind of mean,” Emily said. “To be honest, I think she had no idea how scared I really was. I tried so hard to hide it from her. From everyone. But when I see zombies—or even think about them—”

  “Don’t,” Abby interrupted her. “Don’t even think about them. Tonight’s events were all just coincidences. Zombies are super popular right now. They’re everywhere. Who knows why? A few years ago it was vampires. Who knows what will be next? Werewolves? Mummies?”

  “Chocolate bars?” Nora spoke up.

  Everyone turned to look at her in confusion.

  “What?” Nora asked with a shrug. “Are you telling me that you wouldn’t want chocolate bars to be everywhere?”

  There was a pause, then everyone started laughing.

  “Speaking of chocolate, who wants some candy?” Abby asked, shaking her treat bag. All the miniature candy bars inside rattled, their wrappers rustling.

  “Ooh, me!” Nora replied.

  “Me too,” Emily said, managing a smile. She could see how her friends were trying to fix her night—make it more fun, more silly, more normal. And she appreciated it more than she could express.

  Leah, though, didn’t say anything. And that wasn’t like her. Emily glanced over to see that Leah was focused on her phone, staring intently at the screen. “Earth to Leah,” she joked, waving her alien-queen tentacle-hair in Leah’s direction. “You ready for some candy?”

  “Huh?” Leah asked, barely listening.

  “Candy,” Emily said louder. “Or maybe we can just eat yours?”

  Even that wasn’t enough to get Leah’s attention. Emily’s curiosity increased. “What’s on your phone?” she asked, trying to get a glimpse of the screen.

  At last, Leah looked up. “I did a search for that game you mentioned—the one you played with your cousin,” she replied. “The Z Curse.”

  Emily’s mouth was suddenly very dry. She tried to swallow. “And?” she said in a raspy-sounding voice.

  “Is this it?” Leah asked, shoving her phone toward Emily.

  Emily’s eyes locked onto the screen. She didn’t want to look—

  But she couldn’t look away—

  There it was, the Z Curse logo, as recognizable as the first time she’d seen it: a leering gray zombie head, topped with a golden crown, poking out of a massive heap of zombie bodies. It was familiar in all the wrong ways; just from looking at it, all the memories rushed back into Emily’s mind. Sitting on the floor in her pajamas, playing with her cousin, wishing she could run away and hide under her bed—while Emily’s mom and aunt and uncle laughed together in the other room, completely oblivious to what was going on.

  “Yeah,” Emily whispered. “That’s it.”

  She was still staring at the screen when she realized that the logo was a little different, after all. It wasn’t a photo of the board game Leah was trying to show her.

  It was an app. The zombie head was moving back and forth, shaking its head like it was saying “No, no, no” with a sinister smile.

  “Is that—” she began.

  “Yeah.” Leah answered Emily’s question before she could even ask it. “It’s an app now.”

  Nora and Abby came closer so they could see the screen too. “Creepy,” Abby said. “No wonder it freaked you out so much when you were younger.”

  “It’s kind of freaking me out right now,” added Nora.

  “Not me,” Leah said. “It’s kind of goofy, don’t you think? I mean, look at the zombie’s googly eyes! That’s hilarious!”

  “Are you kidding?” Emily asked, surprised. Sure, the zombie head had large, watery eyes, but they didn’t seem silly or goofy to her at all. How weird that two people can see the exact same thing—and interpret it totally differently, she thought.

  “I’m going to download it,” Leah announced, her finger hovering over the screen. “It’s free, after all. Plus, maybe playing it on a phone—with friends—will help you get over your fears.”

  “No!” Emily cried as she reached out and grabbed Leah’s phone. Leah was so surprised that she didn’t realize that Emily had taken her phone until it was too late.

  “Give it back,” Leah said, one hand on her hip, the other outstretched, palm up. “You don’t just take someone’s phone, Emily. No matter how upset you are.”

  But Emily stood firm, keeping Leah’s phone just out of reach. “No,” she said, and the strength in her voice surprised even Emily. “Not until you promise me that you’ll never play that game. Or even download it.”

  “Oh, come on,” Leah groaned. “It’s just a stupid app!”

  It was obvious to everyone, though, that Emily wasn’t going to budge. “Promise,” she repeated.

  At last, Leah gave in. “Fine,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I promise I won’t download a stupid, harmless app that is honestly no big deal.”

  “Pinkie swear,” Emily said, holding out her little finger.

  Leah rolled her eyes, but she reached out and linked pinkies with Emily. “Anything else?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Emily replied. “I want everyone to promise.”

  Nora and Abby exchanged a glance.

  “Sure, whatever,” Abby said with a shrug. “It doesn’t really look like something I’d be into.”

  “Me neither,” Nora added. “I’m more into photo apps and stuff like that.”

  “In that case, may I please have my phone back now?” Leah asked pointedly.

  “Yes,” Emily said as she gave Leah the phone. “Sorry about that. I just—I don’t think that game can be trusted. Believe me, it’s scarier than it looks.”

  “Sure, Em,”
Abby said brightly. “We believe you.”

  “And we’ve all promised not to play it,” said Nora. “So you have nothing else to worry about.”

  Emily managed to return Nora’s smile—but in her heart, she wasn’t so sure.

  Emily usually didn’t sleep well unless she was in her own bed—but in her whole life, she’d never slept so poorly as she did that Halloween night. With blackout curtains on all the windows, Abby’s basement was exceptionally dark. Even though Emily knew, rationally, that there was absolutely no reason to be afraid of the dark, she couldn’t help cowering in the face of its all-encompassing void. There was no telling who else might be lurking in that basement along with her friends. In the darkness, anyone could slip in unnoticed. It felt like hours that Emily lay motionless in her sleeping bag, listening to the deep, restful breathing of her sleeping friends. Emily didn’t drift into an uneasy sleep until the gray light of dawn first appeared at the small windows, offering just enough light for Emily to assure herself that there wasn’t anything—or anyone—in the basement who didn’t belong there.

  It felt like her heavy eyelids had just slammed shut when Emily was suddenly jolted awake. “Wh-what’s wrong?” she stammered as she tried to sit up.

  “Good morning!” Abby sang out from halfway down the basement steps. “Nothing’s wrong, except there’s only one waffle left, so if you want it, you’d better move pretty fast.”

  “Where is everybody?” Emily said as she glanced around; Leah and Nora’s empty sleeping bags were piled on the floor in a heap.

  “Upstairs, guarding the waffle,” Abby said with a laugh. “Of course, I made them swear they wouldn’t touch your breakfast.”

  “What time is it?” Emily asked, rubbing her eyes. She was still so tired; her whole body ached from lying on the hard basement floor.

  “Almost ten,” Abby replied. “You slept really late.”

  “I feel like I didn’t sleep at all,” Emily replied. She tried to stifle a yawn, but it was so big that it made her jaw crack. Then Emily’s brain processed Abby’s words, and her eyes opened a little brighter. “Did you say ten a.m.?” she asked.

  When Abby nodded, Emily scrambled out of her sleeping bag. “Oh man, my mom’s going to be here any minute,” she groaned. “She promised to pick me up right after her yoga class.”

  “I’m sure my mom can give you a ride home this afternoon if you want to stay longer,” Abby offered.

  “Actually . . . I’d better get home,” Emily said. The truth was that she couldn’t wait to curl up in her own bed in her bright, sunny bedroom. She scanned Abby’s basement and started packing up all the pieces of her alien queen costume. There was just one thing missing—her tiara.

  “Hey, Abby?” Emily said. “Have you seen my tiara?”

  “Nope,” Abby replied. “Not since last night, anyway.”

  “That’s weird,” Emily said. “I thought I left it on the end table. But I don’t see it anywhere.”

  “I’ll text you as soon as it turns up,” Abby promised.

  Just then the door at the top of the stairs creaked open. “Emily? Your mom’s here!” Nora called.

  “Can I have your waffle?” Leah’s voice drifted down the stairs.

  “Sure,” Emily yelled back. Then she turned to Abby and gave her a hug. “Sorry I was so weird last night. I hope I didn’t ruin your Halloween party.”

  “Of course not,” Abby assured her. “Besides, having someone who was legit terrified only made it more authentic!”

  Emily grinned. Abby is so awesome, she thought as she started up the stairs. Emily still couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have made such an amazing friend right after moving to Riverdale.

  “Greetings, Alien Queen!” Mom said as Emily climbed into the car. “How was your hostile take-over?”

  “It was fine,” Emily replied, yawning again. “I can’t wait to shower, though. I maybe used too much gunk on my hair last night.”

  Emily’s mom was not the I-told-you-so type, but she nodded knowingly. “I just have to stop by the grocery store, and then we’ll go right home.”

  Emily wrinkled up her nose. “Seriously?” she groaned. “You’re going to make me go out in public like this?” Her hair was still filled with the glitter spray, but after sleeping on it, it was now sticking up every which way. She looked like a complete mess.

  “Well, you went out in public like that last night and didn’t seem to mind,” Mom pointed out, the hint of a smile on her face.

  “That was different. That was Halloween,” Emily argued. “This is just pathetic.”

  “I only have to get a couple things,” Mom promised. “It will be a quick trip. In and out.”

  Emily had no choice but to follow her mom into the grocery store. She stared straight ahead and pretended that she didn’t notice all the people who did a double take at her spooky, sparkly hair.

  “I think everyone’s staring at me,” Emily whispered to her mom.

  “Only because you look so cool!” her mother replied. “Maybe you’re about to start a new fashion trend!”

  “Yeah, right.” Emily sighed.

  “Here, let’s split the list in two,” Mom suggested as she tore it in half. “Then we’ll get done in half the time.”

  “Fine,” Emily said. The first item on her list was cereal. She wandered over to the cereal aisle and tried to decide which one to get. She liked the granola that had chocolate-covered cherries in it. But there was something not quite right about the cereal boxes.

  BRAIN FLAKES

  ALL BRAIN

  100% WHOLE BRAIN

  Emily blinked and rubbed her eyes. She was so tired that for a moment, the letters seemed all wobbly. Then she realized that the cereal boxes read “bran”—not “brain.”

  Stupid, she told herself. Of course the cereal isn’t made from brains. This isn’t a zombie grocery!

  Emily grabbed a box of cereal—she didn’t even care which one anymore—and checked the next item on her list. Pork chops. That meant the meat department.

  There were only a couple people waiting to be helped. Emily took a numbered ticket and waited for her turn, trying not to look too closely at the bloody steaks and glistening chicken breasts. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something so disgusting that her empty stomach lurched: a mound of coiled-up flesh, the palest of pinks, glistening under the fluorescent lights. It almost appeared to quiver, pulsing in time to every footstep that passed. A sick feeling settled in the back of Emily’s throat. Why was the supermarket suddenly selling brains?

  And—by now Emily’s stomach was churning, and she could barely swallow—why was the brain pulsing like that? It sat there, disembodied, shivering like it was still alive. How—and why?

  Against her better instincts, Emily found herself creeping closer to the lump of brain. There was a glass case separating them, after all. She had nothing to be afraid of.

  Right?

  Closer. Closer. Closer. Until Emily’s face was mere inches from the brain. It was even grosser up close—she could see flecks of blood—

  And the tag.

  SPECIAL

  GROUND CHICKEN

  0.99/LB

  The laugh escaped Emily’s throat before she could catch herself; once more, people turned to look. This time, Emily couldn’t blame them. If she were trying to buy groceries and somebody with sparkling tentacle-hair started laughing, she’d probably stare too.

  I have got to get out of here, Emily thought. And I’ve got to get a hold of myself.

  Emily was seeing brains everywhere. If she wasn’t careful, Emily worried, this zombie phobia was going to take over her whole life.

  And Emily was not about to let that happen.

  By Monday morning, Emily felt 100 percent better. She was ready to tackle the school day—even though there were still some stubborn bits of silver in hair. She’d spent the weekend hanging out with her family, with no cell phone, no TV, and lots of naps. As she walked to school, the bri
ght November sunshine didn’t just chase away the early-morning chill. It also seemed to chase away her fears. The terror of Halloween night seemed almost silly now that the sun was shining and all the decorations had been packed away. A few stray candy-bar wrappers that had been left on the sidewalk were the only signs that Halloween had just happened. And even though Emily loved trick-or-treating and getting all dressed up, she was ready to say good-bye to Halloween for another year. I bet the Randolph house will have a totally different theme next year, she thought hopefully. Halloween will be even better.

  At lunchtime, Emily was eager to hang out with her friends and find out how they’d spent the rest of their weekends. She was scanning the cafeteria, searching for them, when she heard someone call her name.

  “Hey, Em!” Abby’s voice rang through the cafeteria. A smile crossed Emily’s face when she noticed the empty chair next to Abby.

  “Hey! Thanks for saving me a seat,” Emily said as she sat down next to Abby and Nora. “Where’s Leah? I haven’t seen her all day.”

  “She’s absent,” Abby replied.

  “Is she sick?” asked Emily. “She seemed fine on Saturday morning.”

  Abby shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she ate too much candy this weekend and woke up with a stomachache,” she said.

  “Or a ‘stomachache,’ ” Nora said with a wicked smile as she made air quotes. “Didn’t she have a test this morning that she wasn’t going to study for?”

  Abby started laughing. “Oh right, I totally forgot about that!” she said. Then she turned to Emily. “Speaking of vanishing acts . . . what were you up to this weekend? I texted you like a hundred times, but I never heard back.”

  “I was washing my hair,” Emily joked. “I took at least ten showers and I still couldn’t get all the silver gunk out of it. Seriously, though, I mostly just chilled, no phone. It was kind of nice.”

  “Really? I could never do that,” Nora said, shaking her head. “My phone is practically attached to me.”

  “Yeah—we noticed,” Abby replied.

  “You and the rest of Riverdale Middle School,” Emily said as she looked around. It wasn’t unusual to see students texting during lunch, but Emily hadn’t ever noticed quite so many kids glued to their phones. Maybe that’s why it’s quieter in here than usual, she thought. She wondered what had captivated everyone. Wild gossip about a singer? The trailer for the next blockbuster movie? A hilarious viral video?