Eve Hallows and the Book of Shrieks

by Robert Gray

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t—” I caught sight of the woman’s too-familiar glare, and I froze. My mind raced back to the school cafeteria, the day I made fun of Stacey and realized, too late, that she’d been right behind me. That stare Stacey had given me. This woman’s stare. They were almost identical. Uh-oh. I was sure the human in front of me, the Boss, this Burier of Places, was Stacey Maxwell’s mother.

  Great! Just what I needed … another Stacey in my life. And by the way Momma Maxwell’s face glowed red with anger, I doubted she liked me much, either.

  EIGHTEEN

  CARLY BETH’S SECRET

  “Of all the stupid … You idiot!” the woman screeched.

  I tried my best to help clean the mess by wiping at her blouse, but that just enraged her more.

  “Get your hands off me. Beth! Beth! Get some napkins over here now!”

  “Be right there, Mrs. Maxwell.”

  Beth, a slender woman with wavy brown hair, rushed over with a length of toilet paper fluttering behind her like a giant tail.

  “No! Get some club soda! Don’t use that!”

  Beth stopped short, and the toilet paper swirled around her. She clawed her way out of the wrappings and stumbled into a room, where I heard all sorts of things being tossed around.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Mrs. Maxwell demanded.

  “I—er—my name is …” My eyes traveled to the bathroom across the hall. “Bathroo—Berth—Bertha!” I managed.

  “Bertha, huh? Shouldn’t you be at school, Bertha?”

  I thought about telling her if it wasn’t for her daughter I would be at school, but as I stared at those burning eyes, that twisted smile, I couldn’t even think of a response. Thankfully, I didn’t have to. Beth returned with a bottle of club soda and tossed it on Mrs. Maxwell as if she were on fire.

  This sent Mrs. Maxwell into a fit of rage so intense, her face turned bright red.

  “You idiot! I’ve had enough of you! YOU’RE FIRED!”

  I used the opportunity to sneak away, while Mrs. Maxwell screamed at Beth, which made me feel adorable, for a little while anyway. I did get this poor woman fired, sure, but on the bright side, I might’ve done her a favor, too. Now that I knew Stacey’s mom ran The Source, I felt certain there was more to the newspaper company than it seemed. By the time I exited the office, I even managed to congratulate myself for what I did. I might have saved Beth’s life, and I had a shiny, new clue to show for it: Momma Maxwell.

  Even better, that made Stacey a suspect, too.

  During the bus ride home, I pulled out a notebook from my backpack and made a list of all the clues and suspects I had so far:

  Stolen necklace?

  Source Business Card at Ghoulicious (Nancy Burnblum)

  Newspaper article in my personal folder (McDougal)

  The Source Newspaper Company. (Mrs. Maxwell)

  Stacey Maxwell.

  Warren.

  I stared at the list of names, tapping my pen against my cheek. Nancy Burnblum worked for The Source. She, no doubt, left the card at Ghoulicious. McDougal had put the article in my personal folder. He also seemed to favor Stacey Maxwell. Stacey’s mom owned The Source. I circled all their names and drew lines connecting them. But what about Warren? How did he fit in? Did he even fit in? He obviously didn’t care for his dad. And as far as dating Stacey … that was just too adorable for words.

  Still, none of this came close to explaining who stole my fairy heart necklace? And why?

  The bus driver announced my stop, so I packed my things away and finished off the rest of my sour gummy worms as the bus squealed to the curb.

  The walk back to school breezed by, probably because of all the noisy thoughts that preoccupied my mind. The answers to everything seemed hidden in that place in my brain where I could sense things but not fully understand them. If only I had a few missing pieces, I knew I could solve this puzzle. And I had a hunch the biggest piece had something to do with my stolen necklace. I just needed more time.

  Dad pulled up to our usual meeting spot, and I hopped into the van and filled him in on my adorable day at school, making sure to embellish where necessary so he didn’t get suspicious.

  “Sorry to hear that,” Dad said, “but you’ll be happy to know there’s a full crowd at the pizza shop again.”

  When I saw the line of hungry humans in front of the restaurant, I wanted to cry.

  Before tonight, if someone had asked me how zombies were created, I would’ve said, Either by an infectious bite from another zombie or with black magic. But after tonight, I would like to submit a third: Repeatedly serving ravenous humans pizza for five hours straight. By ten o’clock, I was as mindless and lifeless as any brain eater.

  A few humans still lingered at their tables, but mostly the place had emptied out thirty minutes ago. Thank Jack. If I had to serve one more customer tonight—

  Before I could finish that thought, the bells over the front door jingled and in walked Beth, the lady who worked—or rather used to work—at The Source newspaper company. She recognized me immediately.

  “I know you. You’re the girl that tripped into Mrs. Maxwell.”

  “It’s nice to see you again,” I said and gave a halfhearted smile.

  I thought it would be a good idea to interview her. What better way to get some dirt on a company then through an unhappy employee. But then a young girl walked in behind Beth, and I had to grip the table next to me to keep from falling over.

  “Carly Beth? She’s your …? You’re her …?”

  All at once, I understood why Carly Beth had been so afraid of Stacey. If she crossed Stacey Maxwell, then Stacey would tell her mother. That would certainly get Carly Beth’s mom fired. Except I had managed that on my own. Yeah for me.

  The more I thought about it, the worse it made me feel. I wanted to apologize to Carly Beth, tell her I was sorry for thinking she wasn’t my friend, and for—um—getting her mom fired, but the only words I could manage were, “Can I start you two off with something to drink?”

  As soon as I got home, I trudged into my room and flopped on my bed. I had barely let out a sigh when Sam barged in and began hounding me about going to the graveyard to raise the dead. I’d been promising him for days, and I felt horrible for breaking his heart every night when I came home, but I was so tired, what with spying all day and working at the pizza place all night.

  Sam followed me from my bedroom to the living room to the kitchen. I grabbed a pumpkin soda from the fridge and collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table while Sam continued his nonstop rant.

  “I’m going crazy here by myself. I need some friends. This place is sooo boring.”

  “Look. Not tonight. I promise I’ll take you soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “That’s what you keep saying: Maybe tomorrow, Sam. Maybe tomorrow. When’s it gonna be tomorrow, Eve?”

  I took a sip from my pumpkin soda and set the bottle on the table. “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Mom? Maybe she can take you.”

  Sam’s thundercloud-gray eyes peered hard at me, and his nostrils flared. “Mom’s the worst in the graveyard. She doesn’t let me do anything. You know that.”

  “Tomorrow, Sam, I promise.” But Sam didn’t want to hear that line anymore. And to be honest, I couldn’t stand hearing myself say it again.

  As he stomped off, he gave me one last glance and muttered, “I want to go with you. I thought we were friends.”

  Wolf passed by Sam, poked me in the leg, and grunted. Maybe I was just overly tired, but his grunts almost sounded like the word jerk. I sure felt like a jerk, for not taking Sam to the graveyard, and for what I did to Carly Beth and her mom, and for lying to Mom and Dad.

  I shuffled off to my room and headed for the shower, already thinking about how the hot water would wash away my misery and scrub off those nasty looks Carly Beth had given me at the pizza place. She hadn’t said so much as a word to me. She even had her mother order her food for her. And when
it came time to pay the bill, Beth tried to leave me a tip, but Carly Beth snatched the money off the table and said, “She doesn’t deserve it.”

  I couldn’t argue with her. I didn’t deserve it.

  In the shower, I came up with a bunch of ideas, as showers always seem to bring about the best ideas. I planned to fix everything I messed up since I’d been here. And it started tomorrow by telling my parents the truth.

  About everything.

  NINETEEN

  A TRIP TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE

  I woke to the smells of chocolate cake and sugary pastries. I didn’t want to leave my bed, but my stomach growled at me until I agreed to get up.

  As I tucked myself in at the kitchen table, Mom placed a plate full of eggs and breakfast potatoes and two pieces of toast in front of me.

  My face must’ve looked disgusted because Mom said, “It’s good for you. Humans are supposed to eat a healthy diet. That’s what they say on TV.”

  She seemed to have something else to say, too, but instead she went back to the stove and started preparing another plate, this one full of all things chocolate. That, of course, was Dad’s, and I eyed it longingly.

  I reminded myself that was the old Eve Hallows. The improved me needed to be open to new experiences. I scooped up some of the eggs with my fork and set it in my mouth, not chewing so much as moving the mush around with my tongue. The texture was like week-old pudding, but it didn’t taste as bad as I thought it would. The buttery toast and potatoes, however, were delicious.

  When I stopped for air, I noticed Mom watching me with a grin. I wondered what was so amusing until I noticed my plate. Besides some crumbs and eggy debris, I had emptied it.

  “I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

  I sipped a tall glass of orange juice and tried to piece together in my mind how I would tell my parents I’d been lying to them, when Dad stumbled in, still groggy. His face looked droopy, as it often did in the morning. I guess it took a certain amount of control to shape shift, and until Dad had his breakfast and some strong coffee his face often resembled a wax statue left outside on a sultry day.

  “Morning dears,” he said and gave a big, exaggerated yawn. Mom put a dish in front of Dad, and then sat down next to him. I glanced at both of them, feeling every bit of egg, toast and potato burning in my stomach.

  I waited until Dad’s gooey face slowly adjusted to normal, and then I said, “Mom. Dad. I have some things I need to tell you …” I told them about the fight, about how I got this thing called detention and how it turned into this thing called suspension, about how I used my free time to spy on the principal. I told them about the newspaper article, Nancy Burnblum, Mrs. Maxwell and Stacey, and Carly Beth and how I got her mom fired.

  I finished, and my parents remained silent for a period of time that went far beyond my comfort zone. I had no doubt they were working out the finer points of my ever-lasting punishment, but to my surprise, Mom said, “One of those nasty neighborhood dogs kept squatting in our yard. I tried to shoo it away, but I … I petrified it!” She pointed to the living room where a little beagle was frozen in mid-squat, a determined look on its face.

  Mom began crying, and so did I. Dad appeared upset, too, but he seemed more upset with himself than anything else.

  “This is all my fault. We shouldn’t have come. I thought I would be protecting you, but I was wrong. It’s worse here.” Dad paused, and then added, “Start packing your things. I’ll call the office and have the ship pick us up as soon as possible.”

  “But won’t you get fired?”

  “Some things are more important, Eve.”

  “How long will it take for the boat to arrive?” Mom asked.

  “Unless there’s a ship already in the area, it’ll take at least a week to ten days before they can get us.” Dad turned to me and added, “Don’t worry, Eve. You don’t have to go back to school. You don’t even have to work at the pizza shop. Who knows, maybe with the great spy work you did, Griff can find out who is behind the murders before we leave.”

  I should’ve been ecstatic over this news. Ever since I got here, all I wanted to do was leave, but now … now I didn’t want to pass off my discoveries. I wanted to be the one to uncover The Source.

  And what about Carly Beth? I couldn’t leave without making things right between us.

  “I want to go back to school,” I said. “I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

  “But what about that principal guy? McDougal?” Mom said “McDougal” as if it were a forbidden word.

  “If he’s involved with The Source, I wouldn’t mind questioning him.

  “Maybe we should bring Griff,” I offered.

  Dad pondered this while taking a bite from his doughnut and washing it down with a sip of chocolate milk. He shook his head. “I think it’s best that we take care of this first. That’s why URNS sent me: to gather information and report back. If we find out that McDougal is involved with The Source, we’ll have Griff do a more thorough investigation.”

  “I’m going, too,” Mom said. “I wanna give that miscreant a piece of my eye. Not celebrating Halloween. Have you ever?”

  “And that’s just what you should do, Mom,” I said and smiled. I was so happy to have my family back on my side. For the first time since I started that adorable school, I couldn’t wait to see McDougal.

  On Monday morning, I marched into school with my mom and dad. Mom had covered her face in pasty, peach-colored makeup that made her skin look gray and sickly. She wore her special sunglasses and a long, silky purple dress and a matching scarf to cover her snakes. Dad maintained his human form, but added a gray, wooly suit with a white shirt and a bright yellow bow tie. I blamed myself for their ridiculous appearances. I should’ve been more specific when I told them to dress like normal humans.

  I led my parents into the main office and told Mrs. Nutley that I completed my suspension and have brought my family in to see Principal McDougal.

  Mrs. Nutley couldn’t stop staring at my mom while I spoke. I guess it didn’t help that Mom’s snakes kept squirming underneath her scarf, which made her head appear to be bubbling, as if in the early stages of total eruption.

  “She’s not feeling well,” I said. “It’s one of those twenty-four-hour bugs.”

  Mrs. Nutley lifted her phone and called McDougal, eager to pass off the infected, no doubt.

  “Remember,” I whispered, looking from Mom to Dad, “this guy is a total control freak.” My eyes focused on Mom. “Don’t let him get under your skin, because he will try.”

  Mom waved me off. “Who’s the mother here? I know how to handle humans like him.”

  “He doesn’t celebrate Halloween, Mom.”

  “Well, it’s not my fault he’s an idiot.”

  Oh, this was going to be fun, I thought.

  When we entered, McDougal nodded at us from the helm of his gigantic, glossy wooden desk. I couldn’t see his eyes, partly because of the shadows, partly because of his tangled eyebrows, but his chin looked as big as ever, especially with the way his thin lips expanded across his face in a vacant grin. His expression wasn’t hard to read. It said, I almost forgot today was going to be a good day. A very good day.

  McDougal stood. “Mr. and Mrs. Hallows, a pleasure.” I bet his voice made Mom’s snakes jealous the way the words hissed out.

  Dad shook McDougal’s hand enthusiastically. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Mr. McDougal, sir. Eve’s told us so much about you—good things of course.”

  McDougal shifted his attention to Mom. He must’ve seen something bulge beneath her scarf, and he watched to see if it would happen again.

  It seemed Mom’s snakes suspected they were being watched, because they stopped moving, at least for now. Unfortunately, they could be rather forgetful creatures.

  McDougal blinked as if coming out of a spell and cleared his throat. “Yes, well, please sit down, Mr. and Mrs. Hallows. I’m sorry to have to bring you in, but I�
��m sure you understand the severity of the situation. It’s not every day we have a student get suspended so soon after entering a new school. I’d like to nip this in the bud, so to speak, as quickly and painlessly as possible.”

  Dad nodded his head in big dips. “Couldn’t agree more. I think it’s best to nip these things in the—er—bud.”

  “Yes. Now I know, five days of suspension can seem a bit severe, but you must understand, we demand order in our school, and it is my job to uphold that order to the fullest.”

  “Yes. The fullest order is sometimes the best, right, dear?” Dad said to Mom.

  She looked ready to explode, so I rubbed the back of her hand, which seemed to calm her down a bit.

  “I agree, dear,” she managed through clenched teeth.

  “These are troubling times we live in,” McDougal said. “And to combat it, one needs a strong will. We are strict because we care. And for those students that seem to think rules are for everyone else …” Yup, he was staring right at me. “It’s those students I press the rules on the hardest.”

  Dad had this real concerned expression on his face, though I doubted he was paying attention anymore. That didn’t matter to McDougal. He obviously loved the sound of his own voice.

  “I’ve seen it time and time again, children acting up, thinking they can do whatever they want. But there is a whole big world out there that says no to that. I’m preparing them for life.” McDougal shook his gigantic chin from side to side. “And fighting? That’s just a one way ticket to a violent criminal life, ending in jail, if she’s lucky; death, if she’s not.

  “So please, Mr. and Mrs. Hallows, don’t think of me as a principal. Think of me as a protector.” McDougal smiled, showing all of his glowing-white teeth. “Help me, help you.”