by Lee Bacon
“Maybe you’re right,” Milton said now. “A Captain Justice autograph is worth more than just one chocolate milk per day.”
“That actually wasn’t the point I was trying to—”
“I bet I could talk James up to a chocolate milk and an ice cream sandwich.”
The conversation came to a halt when a wave of perfume rolled past. A second later, the Cafeteria Girls took their usual seats at the table. They were all wearing pink. The one sitting closest to me had on a pink camouflage outfit, as if she were planning on hiding out in a jungle made of bubble gum.
“So I figured it out,” she announced.
“Figured what out?” asked one of her color-coordinated friends.
“Who Sophie Smith really is.”
This got everyone’s attention. Including mine.
“Sophie Smith is hiding her identity,” Commando Barbie said.
“She is?”
“That’s right. And I know why.”
I nearly blurted out, You do? Luckily, the other Cafeteria Girls said it before I had a chance.
Pink Camo Pants nodded. Her eyes moved around the table. They passed over Milton and me quickly with an expression that said Eww.
“Remember when Sophie first showed up in Sheepsdale?” she said. “It was the day after Captain Justice had that big fight with the Dread Duo. That couldn’t just be a coincidence.”
My stomach lurched, and I had a feeling it wasn’t the Meat Surprise. It sounded like the girls were actually on the right track. I already knew what would happen if people around town started figuring out Sophie’s real identity. I’d been through it enough times myself. There’d be a sudden move. A new town, a new name, a new life.
And Sophie would be gone.
I’ll admit, I hadn’t known her all that long, and for at least part of that time we’d been mad at each other or ignoring each other, or both. But we’d been through a lot together. Something about surviving a few near-death experiences with someone makes you feel close to them.
I guess what I’m trying to say is, I didn’t want to see her leave.
The girl in the hot pink camouflage said, “There’s a reason why Sophie Smith just happened to show up in Sheepsdale the day after the Dread Duo were battling it out downtown. Isn’t it obvious?”
Everyone at the table waited for her to go on. I was clasping the edge of the table nervously. Milton was so distracted that he’d eaten his way through his entire sandwich and was now chewing on the plastic Baggie it had come in.
“Sophie’s parents are the Dread Duo,” Commando Barbie said.
I nearly burst into laughter. Sophie’s secret was still safe. And apparently mine was too.
“Wait a second …,” said another girl. “How could Sophie’s mom be the Botanist? I thought she didn’t even have a mom.”
“Duh,” said Pink Camo Pants. “They’re trying to keep it a secret.”
“Oh.”
“Think about it. The machine gun towers outside their house, the torture devices. Her mom and dad are supervillains.”
Silence settled over the table as the other girls thought about what they’d just learned. They looked like they actually believed it too. And then, all at once, their eyes went wide with horror. I glanced over my shoulder and instantly recognized what had frightened them.
Sophie was standing next to our table.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked the Cafeteria Girls, pointing at an empty seat.
For the first time ever, the Cafeteria Girls were speechless. They stared back at Sophie in shocked silence. They had the same terrified expressions that people got whenever my parents showed up somewhere. Except those people weren’t usually dressed all in pink.
“Uh …,” Commando Barbie managed to say.
“Thanks!” Sophie smiled sweetly at the girls, then dropped into a seat beside them. She looked over at me, and I saw a mischievous glimmer flash in her eyes. Then she turned her attention back to the Cafeteria Girls. “Would any of you happen to have an extra set of silverware I could borrow?” she asked in her most polite voice.
All four of the Cafeteria Girls gawked back at Sophie like she’d just asked if she could borrow a grenade launcher. Pink Camo Pants elbowed the girl nearest her, nodding at an unused fork and knife on her tray.
“H-here,” said the girl. She held out the silverware in two shaking hands.
Sophie took the offering. Still smiling, she squeezed the fork and knife in her fist. The Cafeteria Girls winced at the sound of metal grinding against metal.
“You know what?” Sophie said. “I just realized I don’t need any silverware after all. You can have this back.”
Sophie opened her hand, and a lump of twisted metal dropped onto the table with a thud. The Cafeteria Girls had gone as pale as four pink-clad ghosts.
“And if I find out you’re talking about me behind my back again, it won’t just be the silverware that gets damaged,” Sophie whispered. “Do I make myself clear?”
The innocent smile was gone. Sophie’s skin was shining with a faint glow—not so bright that it would be noticed by anyone else in the cafeteria, but definitely enough to get her point across. The Cafeteria Girls looked like they were about ready to jump out of their own skins. Pink Camo Pants was so freaked out that she didn’t even notice when a chunk of Meat Surprise slid off the table and into her lap.
“That oughta shut them up for a while,” I said a few minutes later as we stepped out of the cafeteria and into the courtyard.
“I don’t know how much good it’ll do.” Sophie shrugged. “My dad usually finds a way to reveal our secret sooner or later. I’m just sick of pretending I don’t know that everyone’s talking about me.”
It was one of the last warm days of the year. Soon winter would sweep through Sheepsdale and blanket the courtyard with snow. But for now kids were using the space to eat their lunches and hang out with friends, playing four square and wall ball.
Over by the tetherball pole, I spotted Joey and Brick. Ever since their little confrontation with Sophie outside the girls’ restroom, they’d avoided us. Now they spent most of their time picking on kids who were so small or nerdy that they’d never put up a fight.
At the moment, Brick had a fifth grader by the collar. Joey was standing next to him. His arm was still cradled inside a sling, but that didn’t prevent him from giving orders.
“Hold him tight,” he said to Brick.
Brick yanked the fifth grader backward.
They’d done this with me before too—ripping the ball loose and then tying my ankle to the end of the tetherball rope. With me hanging upside down, Brick and Joey had knocked me back and forth.
Tether-Joshua.
And now they were about to do it to someone else.
Sophie and I stepped forward at the same time. But before either of us could say anything, the kid caught sight of something that was even more frightening than Joey and Brick. His jaw dropped, and he pointed one trembling finger at what he’d just seen.
A zombie had entered the courtyard.
29
In the end, only you can choose whether to become a hero, a villain, or something in between.
At least now we knew what had happened to the last of my parents’ missing zombies. It looked like it had gone on a looting spree. The zombie was wearing a flower-print Hawaiian shirt and a pair of khaki slacks. On one foot it had on an oversized snow boot and on the other was a sandal, as if it couldn’t decide whether to dress for snow or the beach. Its wrists were cluttered with silver and gold bracelets. And on its head was a cowboy hat and a pair of aviator sunglasses.
It was definitely the weirdest-looking zombie I’d ever seen. And that was saying something.
The courtyard cleared out in a flash as kids escaped in every direction. With their backs turned on the zombie, Joey and Brick were oblivious. Besides, they were used to kids running away screaming whenever they were nearby.
The fifth grader’s voice
cracked as he pointed across the courtyard. “Z-zombie,” he said. “It’s coming.”
Brick let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, right,” he said. “We’re not falling for that.”
“Next you’re gonna tell us elephants are stampeding through school, right?” Joey said.
They stopped joking when the zombie let out a low growl. I’d heard a similar noise coming through the floorboards of our house many times before. It was a zombie’s way of saying, “I’m hungry.”
Joey and Brick turned in the direction the growl had come from. When Brick saw what was behind him, he released his grip on the fifth grader. The kid went running out of sight, but Joey and Brick were frozen with fear. The zombie took two staggering steps toward them.
“Do you think we should do something?” Sophie asked in a dull voice.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I think I might enjoy watching Joey get his brain eaten.”
“And Brick doesn’t have a brain to eat,” Milton added.
As much as I didn’t like the idea of helping Joey and Brick, I knew my parents would get blamed if anything happened to them.
Next to us was a big rubber ball someone had abandoned halfway through a game of four square. I tossed it across the courtyard. The zombie watched as it bounced across the cement and rolled into a bush. It wasn’t much of a distraction, but it bought Joey and Brick enough time to get a head start across the courtyard.
“Make sure all the doors are locked,” I said once Joey and Brick had made it to safety. “I’ll find something to keep the zombie busy until my parents can get here to pick it up.”
“Like what?” Milton demanded.
I glanced back through the glass doors behind us. “I have an idea.”
While Sophie and Milton secured the doors, I sprinted through the cafeteria. Principal Sloane’s voice boomed over the intercom. “Witnesses have reported a possible zombie sighting. All students and staff should carry out the appropriate procedure at once.”
We’d practiced the zombie drill a few times over the past couple of years, but this was the first time the school was doing it for real. Basically, it was the same thing as the tornado drill and the Dread-Duo-have-unleashed-a-mudslide-and-it’s-headed-our-way drill. Everyone crouched under their desks. And in the case of zombies, the teacher ensured that the door was locked.
Weaving between crowds of panicked students, I bolted through the cafeteria. The lunch ladies were crouched beneath tables. One of them screamed, raising her spatula like a sword. When she realized I wasn’t a zombie, her expression shifted to confusion.
“If you want seconds, you’ll have to come back later!” she barked.
“That’s not why I’m here.” I pushed through the waist-high swinging doors that led into the kitchen. “I came to get—that.”
A big pot of Meat Surprise was resting on top of the stove. After grabbing a pair of oven mitts off the floor, I lifted the pot and carried it back through the cafeteria.
I paused for a second when I reached the doors that opened out onto the courtyard. Through the glass, I saw the zombie, looking like a Hawaiian cowboy with a taste for expensive jewelry. It was holding a wooden bench over its shoulder and was staggering toward a row of windows. I didn’t want to imagine what would happen if it broke through a window and got inside one of the classrooms.
Milton unlocked the door and I stepped outside, carrying the Meat Surprise with me.
“Hey, you!” I called.
The zombie turned to face me, and I felt a shiver run down my neck. No matter how many times I encountered them, making eye contact with zombies gave me the creeps.
I gulped down my fear and took a step forward.
“I brought something for ya!” I held up the pot of Meat Surprise.
The zombie dropped the bench it had been carrying. Licking its gray lips, it began to approach, moving more quickly with each step. I set the pot of Meat Surprise on the ground, then turned and got out of there before the zombie had a chance to make me its dessert.
Luckily, Sophie always carried her phone with her in case of emergency. And this definitely qualified as an emergency. I borrowed it to call my parents, who said they would get to the school as soon as possible. But watching the zombie through the glass doors, I wondered if that would be fast enough.
The zombie reached inside the pot and pulled out a handful of the brown mush. After taking a sniff, it made a disgusted face. Apparently, it wasn’t a fan of the Meat Surprise either.
Within a few minutes, the zombie had lost all interest in what I’d given it. Wandering back across the courtyard, it picked up the bench again. If my parents didn’t make it there soon, the zombie was going to cause some serious damage.
I wasn’t too excited about the idea of fighting a zombie on my lunch break, but it was getting close to the window, and I didn’t see any other way to stop it. I unlocked the door and stepped back into the courtyard. That was as far as I got, though.
Just as the zombie raised the bench, preparing to swing, a noise ricocheted across the courtyard and a dart sprouted from the zombie’s neck. It grasped at the dart with one of its gray hands, staggering around for a few seconds before dropping the bench and collapsing to the ground.
A second later, a pair of hover scooters descended below the rooftops and into the courtyard. Mom and Dad were in their uniforms, though I could tell they’d gotten dressed in a hurry, because Dad still had on his house slippers.
Mom holstered her tranquilizer gun and climbed off the hover scooter. Her eyes caught sight of me across the courtyard with a quick glimpse of recognition. Then she and Dad set to work.
The zombie was lying facedown in the grass, snoring loudly. Its cowboy hat and sunglasses were scattered a few feet away. While Mom lifted its legs, Dad tugged a net underneath, wrapping it around the zombie. He then attached the net to the bumpers of their hover scooters.
As she usually did after handling zombies, Mom removed a bottle of hand sanitizer from her utility belt and cleaned her hands, then shared the bottle with Dad. After that, they climbed onto their hover scooters. On the count of three, they pulled up on the handles and rose back into the air.
With the zombie hanging in its net beneath them, Mom and Dad drifted upward until they vanished from sight.
It wasn’t my parents’ usual activity—saving a schoolful of kids from getting devoured by a zombie. And I have to admit I felt a little proud. For once, my mom and dad weren’t the ones wreaking havoc. They were the ones making the world a little safer.
Of course, the zombie would never have made it into our school in the first place if it hadn’t escaped from my parents.
But hey—nobody’s perfect.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to Sarah Burnes, my agent, for the superb guidance and advocacy for this book, and Logan Garrison, for plucking my manuscript from the slush pile and sticking with it ever since. Also, my gratitude goes to Rebecca Gardner and Will Roberts, for bringing Joshua Dread out into the world, as well as to all the other wonderful folks at the Gernert Company.
I’m so thankful to Wendy Loggia, who spotted the book I wanted to write from the beginning and has done so much to guide me in that direction, as well as Beverly Horowitz, Krista Vitola, Trish Parcell, and everyone at Delacorte Press, for all the support you’ve provided along the way.
Thank you, Brandon Dorman; your cover was far better than I could’ve ever hoped.
Thank you, Miriam Berkley, for spending a breezy afternoon in Dumbo with me and taking a thousand photographs, including one that was printable.
I would like to thank Amy Gordon for reading the book more than once and offering the kind of feedback that can only come from a Kids’ Book Expert. Thanks also to the other Kids’ Book Pros and occasional ski buddies, Kalah McCaffrey and Christopher Lupo, as well as fellow authors and early readers Adam Gidwitz and Sandy London.
Thank you, Mary Pender-Coplan. I’m so glad your son laughed at all the right parts.
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br /> Thanks to Pippa and Lola for keeping me company while I’m at work all day.
I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to my family, who support me in writing and everything else. The Greeks and Trulls: Stephen, Claudia, Amy, Lauren, Travis, and Caitlyn. The Sviens and Sissells: Doug, Sherilyn, Erin, Dennis, and Kim. The Owens: Mike, Carla, and Cody. Layla Price. Librarian extraordinaire and early reader Kristy Fowler Compton. My wonderful grandparents James and Sue Greek. Und natürlich meine Familie auf der anderen Seite des Atlantiks: Michael, Irmtrud, and Karin Schlör, as well as Zenta Englert. Evan Bacon, my bigger little brother, true friend, and occasional collaborator. And of course, my parents: Terry and Jamie Bacon, who have always inspired me to take over the world.
And finally, I want to thank my wife, Eva, for supporting me in all my schemes, evil and otherwise.
About the Author
LEE BACON grew up in Texas with parents who never once tried to destroy the world (at least, not that he knew of). He lives in Brooklyn. This is his first novel.
Continue the Adventure
The Nameless Hero
Coming Fall 2013
When I got to the bus stop, I unzipped my backpack and pulled out the Sheepsdale Middle School yearbook. I’d received it yesterday, just like everyone else in school.
Opening the book, I flipped through until I found my picture. I was the skinny kid in the lower right-hand part of the page who looked like he’d just been stumped by a tough math question. My disheveled brown hair blended perfectly with a shadow in the background, making it look like I had a huge lopsided Afro.
Otherwise, it was a great picture.
There was a name printed beneath the photo, but it wasn’t my name. At least, not my real name. Part of being the child of two notorious supervillains is that you’ve got to hide your identity. People still called me Joshua, but only a few people—my parents, Milton, Sophie—knew my actual last name was Dread.