by E. Van Lowe
"We don't have that long," I said gravely. "Besides, as soon as you give him the antidote, he's going to turn you into zombies."
I told them the entire story. "He doesn't want to turn the students back. That would spoil his plan. The only reason he wants an antidote is insurance in case he ever needs it."
As the meaning behind what I'd said sank in, Baron and Milton started getting angry.
Milton pounded his fists into his thighs. "He suckered us!" he snapped. "I told you not to trust him!"
"No, you didn't. You said he was going to make us superstars."
"0h. Right. Dude, if only the original antidote had worked, we would be superstars."
"Maybe it did." The words drifted up from deep in my soul. Baron and Milton turned to me, and I spoke the truth I'd been hanging on to for so long. "You were right. I didn't use it on Dirk."
"I knew it!" cried Milton, jumping up and down.
"Chill, dude!" A stunned Baron turned to me. "Why?" he asked. "I trusted you."
"I know." I heard the betrayal in his voice, and wished I could hide somewhere under a rock.
"I was afraid if Dirk turned back he wouldn't be my boyfriend anymore. I'm so sorry." My voice cracked, and yet there was a welcome weightlessness about me as I unburdened myself with the truth.
"It's okay!" Baron said tenderly.
"No, it's not okay!" Milton blurted. "We could have been heroes already."
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"He's right. I betrayed your trust," I said.
Baron looked into my eyes and nodded. "Yes, you did," he said. "But it sounds like you've been beating yourself up over this. No sense in us beating you up, too."
"It was so stupid of me. The boy of my dreams was right in front of me, and I was wasting my time trying to be like ... Amanda."
Baron perked up. "Boy of your dreams? Who's that?"
"Who do ya think?" I held my breath, looked into his gorgeous hazel eyes, waiting for a response.
A Cheshire cat grin appeared on his face. "Moi?" he asked.
I nodded. "I'm really sorry, Baron."
"I forgive you."
"Well, I don't!" Milton screeched.
"Milton! Can't you see me and Margot are having a moment here?" His eyes bored into Milton. It was probably the harshest he'd ever sounded to his friend. Milton quieted.
He turned back to me. "He forgives you, too. He's just having a hard time showing it right now."
"You held Sybil's hand," I suddenly said. The hurt I'd felt seeing them that day in the pit room was still there.
Baron's grin turned sheepish. "Just trying to get your attention, beautiful"
"Well, you got it," I said. I moved in and kissed him on the mouth--and he kissed back. His lips were warm and soft against mine. My first real kiss, with a boy I cared about. My heart fluttered ... fortunately my stomach did not.
Thunk... Thunk...
Someone was knocking at the boiler room door. We three faced the door and realized it wasn't knocking. Zombies were throwing their bodies against the door. The zombies had found us.
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"Do you have any more of the original antidote?" I asked, hoping Principal Taft had lied.
"Yeah, plenty," said Milton.
"Great! Excellent! If we can squirt it into their mouths, we can turn them back to normal."
"We don't even know if it works," said Baron.
"I believe in it. I believe in you." I turned to Milton. "Where is it?"
"At home."
"Dude!" cried Baron.
Milton stamped his foot like a child. "She said it didn't work!"
"Are you sure you have a four-point-oh GPA?" asked Baron.
"She said it didn't work!" Milton squawked.
Thunk... Thunk...
"Guys, pretty soon they're going to figure out how to open that door. We've gotta get out of here."
"There is no other way out," said Milton. He stared at the door.
I looked up. In the wall, high above us, was the grate to the ventilation duct.
"Yes, there is." I climbed up onto a chair. As I began fiddling with the grate over the duct, my ankle roared with pain. "I need some help here."
"Manual labor is not my thing," said Milton.
Baron sighed. "We should leave him behind." He got on the chair, standing next to me. The touch of his skin against mine sent waves of icy chills dancing along my arms, giving me gooseflesh. His touch was electric.
How come I never noticed it before?
He removed the grate. It dropped to the floor with a loud clang.
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"Now what?" called Milton, eyeing the opening in the wall with trepidation.
"We exit through the ventilating ducts," I replied.
"We don't know what's in there. We don't even know where it goes." Milton's eyes were still on the opening.
Thunk...
The door was starting to give.
"You're right, Milton," I said, a soft urging in my voice. "But it's our only chance. If we stay, the zombies will get us. But if we're able to get to the antidote, you'll be a hero."
He brightened a little.
"I guess," he said. He still wasn't certain about my plan. But we had to try it.
Baron helped me into the duct. Then he and Milton shimmied in after me. The zombie sounds were louder here, as if the ducts were teeming with zombies. But I knew better ... at least, I hoped I did.
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Chapter
Thirty - six
We started crawling through the duct.
"Okay, now what?" called Milton, who was bringing up the rear.
"If we can make it to Principal Taft's office, I have an idea how we can subdue them long enough for us to escape the building."
I scrambled up, into dusty darkness. It was a grueling climb. The duct was cramped and stuffy. There was very little air. After about fifteen minutes we came to a bend. "I think this is the basement. We have to go up one more floor."
Shimmying upward in a duct is no easy task. You have to push up against the sides with your feet, using your arms to brace yourself. It's easy to lose traction, and you can slip backward several feet and have to start all over again. It took us nearly half an hour to reach the first floor.
As I shimmied I thought of Mrs. Mars. I'd had no idea there was a practical use for all that upper-body training she was always trying to get us to do. I guess she realized girls needed to be prepared for whatever unexpected dilemma life threw at us.
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Why didn't she just say that?
I was breathing hard, sweat pouring down my arms and legs, "The rest should be easy," I said. "No more climbing."
The duct wrapped around the entire first floor. Several smaller ducts led off the main duct into the classrooms.
"Is this our first date?" Baron suddenly called from behind.
I smiled. "You're not getting off that easy. We're going out in public."
"You won't be embarrassed to be seen with a geek?" he asked.
Seven weeks ago the answer would have been yes.
"You're not a geek," I replied. Then I said, "You won't be embarrassed to be seen with a nobody?"
"You're not a nobody."
I immediately thought of Sybil's attempts to do away with the cliques and their labels. Lunchroom monitor wasn't a ridiculous idea after all.
"Could you guys please shut up!" Milton called from the rear. "This is like watching a love story. And I hate love stories ... unless somebody dies."
We continued on in silence. I stopped at one point and looked through the grate, just to make sure we were headed in the right direction. I peered into the corridor. Zombies were everywhere.
"Achoo!" Milton sneezed.
"Dude!" Baron smacked him on the shoulder.
The zombies all snapped out of their fugue, looking hungrily upward. But their virus-fogged brains couldn't figure out where the sneeze had come from, and eventually they went back to shuffling along the corridor.
> We arrived at a duct veering off to our left.
"This should be the main office," I said.
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We crawled into the duct. When we arrived at the next grate, I again peered through. We were indeed above the main office.
The six uberzombies were in the office.
"Those are the uberzombies," I whispered. "This is probably where Taft stages them." The zombies stood almost motionless. Their eyelids were near shut, as if they were sleeping, but I knew better. These were the most deadly zombies in the school.
Baron inched up alongside me and looked through the vent. His hand brushed my arm--again my skin turned to goose-flesh. "Tyler Moss," he whispered.
"I tutored him in algebra," said Milton from the rear. "He got a B plus, thanks to me."
"I don't think you're going to get any points for that today," I said.
We continued into the duct leading into Taft's office. The door to Taft's office was always closed. Hopefully we'd find the office empty.
I looked through the grate. The office was empty.
"We're in luck," I called. I shifted my body around so that my feet were in front of the grate. I gave three hard kicks, and the grate popped out, crashing to the floor.
That would attract some zombie attention.
I looked down into Taft's office, listening intently.
"I don't think they heard it."
"Be careful," called Baron
He squeezed my hand; then I jumped down, landing hard on the floor. Pain fired through my ankle. "Aiiil" I cried.
My eyes moved to the door. We held our collective breaths, waiting for zombies to come barreling into the room.
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"We're good," I called, releasing my breath.
Baron jumped down after me, and then Milton.
"1 need one of you to hook Sybil's iPod up to the intercom system," I said.
"Piece of cake," said Milton. Having something to do would keep his mind occupied, and his fear at bay. I pulled Sybil's iPod from my pocket and handed it to him. He went right to work.
Just then the doorknob turned.
"Hurry!" I called. "Uberzombies know how to open doors."
Baron rushed to the door, but it was too late. It was already swinging open.
"Mmmmm," was all we heard from the other side. The uberzombies had come to life.
Baron braced himself against the door. "Little help," he called.
"Hurry!" I called to Milton again.
In seconds the iPod was plugged into the system. I cued up Tom Jones' "She's a Lady," and hit the play button. Then, Milton and I joined Baron at the door. We leaned our shoulders into it, against the relentless zombies.
The music started to play.
"We crawled all the way here for pansy music?" asked Milton. "At least you could have played some Sid Vicious."
"Hey, hey! Trust me here. I've got a two-point-seven GPA," I responded.
"We're dead."
As Tom Jones' melodious voice resounded throughout the school, the pushing against the door abruptly stopped. Angry growls sprang up on the other side.
"What's happening?"
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"They don't like Tom Jones, either. A few weeks ago Sybil played this song in the lunchroom, and all the zombies went berserk."
"Just what we need--berserk zombies," said Milton.
"I turned it off before anything happened, but I have a feeling they would have done anything to get out of there,"
Baron smiled. "That's my girl."
We peeled back the door and peeked into the main office. The zombies were acting strange. They had begun walking in aimless circles.
One by one they began to scream.
"Yeeeee!" They swatted at their ears, and shook their heads as if there was a bee buzzing inside and they were trying to get it out. The happy beat that always cheered me and Sybil up was having a horrible effect on them,
"Yeee-e-e-e-ooo." The screeching slowed.
"They're dying," said Milton, astonished.
It seemed to be true. Not only did the screeching slow, but their movements became more and more sluggish. And then one by one, the zombies stopped. Like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, who'd rusted in the rain, they stood frozen in place. The happy music had short-circuited their brains. A room full of uberzombies now stood motionless, harmless, their dark eyes staring into space, as the voice of Tom Jones filled the air.
"You did it," Baron cried.
"We did it," corrected Milton.
I smiled. "You guys can have all the credit. You deserve it."
We exited Principal Taft's office and picked our way around the lifeless zombies in the outer office. Stepping out into the main corridor, we observed more of the same--a sea of motionless zombies.
We began moving through, making our way to the exit.
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"Look out!" Milton called.
We turned in time to see one of the zombies who had been unaffected by the music coming for us.
My voice cracked when I saw who it was. Sybil. "This one's with me," I said.
A jagged scratch ran down her cheek. Her face was bruised, and her clothing had been ripped in the lunchroom battle with the uberzombies. I took her hand. It was cold.
Thanks," I whispered. "You saved me. Now, we're going to save you." There were tears in my eyes.
"Let's get out of here," Milton called.
We again began heading for the main exit door when I remembered it had been chained shut. "Uh-oh. Do either of you know where we might find a bolt cutter?"
"I do," said Milton.
"Great! You guys are always prepared. Where is it?"
"It's at home," said Milton.
"Dude!" Baron walloped him in the back of the head.
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Chapter Thirty - seven
Baron found a hammer in the janitor's closet, and after several whacks the lock on the chained exit surrendered, and we were free. I took Sybil back to my house, where 1 was surprised to find Dirk still in my living room, in front of the TV. My parents had already gone to bed. Dirk sat alone, staring at an infomercial featuring a ladder that could do more tricks than a trained seal.
The night had been a disaster with one bright spot--Baron and Milton were safe, and they had the antidote.... Okay, three bright spots.
I limped into the kitchen, dumped an ice tray into a Baggie, and made an ice pack for my throbbing ankle. Then I joined Dirk on the couch. I looked at him staring at the TV and realized 1 was about to do something I had never thought I was capable of.
"Umm, Dirk. We need to talk," I said softly.
Slowly his eyes moved to me. His head cocked to one side.
"These past couple of months have been wonderful. Really wonderful I've learned so much about myself, about boyfriends,
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and friendship, and honesty. I couldn't have done any of it without you."
"Mmmmm." A low moan purred deep in his chest.
"But Dirk, I have to break up with you. I thought having a cool boyfriend would make me special. It didn't. If anything, it made me a bigger jerk than I already was. Hey, don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't want a boyfriend. I'm still a healthy sixteen-year-old--of course I do. And I have just the person in mind--someone who isn't into cliques, or being at the top of the social food chain, someone who appreciates me for me, which most of the time isn't all that good, but I'm working on it. Anyway, sorry, but we're through. I hope you understand."
I leaned in and kissed him on his crumbly green cheek. Dirk looked at me, and I thought I saw something finally register on his face--recognition, understanding. I thought that I had cut through the thick zombie fog in his mind, and he knew exactly what I was saying ... until he tried to bite my face off.
Swat!
"Yeeee!"
I turned and looked at Sybil, who sat silently waiting, her breath coming in gravelly gasps, her dark eyes staring into the future. Since the eighth grade, Sybil had been t
he best friend a girl could have. She'd dealt with all my snarkiness, my desire to be like Amanda Culpepper, and my stupid manifesto. And despite what a lousy friend I'd been, she'd saved my life. Now it was my turn.
"In a little while the boys will bring the antidote over," I told Sybil. "I'll give it to you on a snickerdoodle--your favorite. Then well go to my room like we always do. I'll put on some Tom Jones music, get out the nail polish. And we'll sit on my bed, and plan out the rest of our fabulous high school careers."
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Epilogue
The antidote worked.
Baron and Milton brought it over later that night. We gave it to Sybil, and I held my breath. Within a few hours she was back to her old self. When she was normal again I threw my arms around her, breathing for what seemed to be the first time in an eternity.
I hugged her for a full minute.
"Margot, stop!" she whined, squirming in my grasp. Her face turned a bright redas she eyed Baron and Milton. "You're embarrassing me." I didn't care. "Tough," I said, and continued to hug. I knew even after I released her, ours was a friendship I would never let go of.
Over the next several days Baron and Milton administered the antidote to everyone who had become a zombie, and changed them all back--even Amanda Culpepper.
The students and adults who had become zombies didn't remember much. It was as if they'd been asleep for an entire
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semester. And by the time winter break was over, things in our town had gotten back to normal.
I hadn't seen Mrs. Mars since they changed her back, but I was looking forward to my semester in her class. No more bleachers and excuse notes for me.
To Sybil's dismay, the popular kids went back to being popular, the slugs went back to being slugs, and everyone migrated back into their tight-knit groups, just like before.
Baron and Milton never got to be the Big Dogs they'd dreamed of becoming. But Baron did get something for all his troubles--a girlfriend. Me.