The Zombie Zone

by Ron Roy

Just then Byron looked up and smiled at the kids. “Do you want to swing on my tire?” he asked.

  “N-no, thank you,” Ruth Rose said. “We have to be getting back.”

  Byron tossed Bill into the air and the bird disappeared in the trees. Then Byron walked toward the kids and stretched out a huge hand. “It was very nice meeting you,” he said.

  Dink shook Byron’s hand. Beneath the skin Dink felt the man’s strength.

  “It was nice meeting you, too,” Dink said.

  The kids walked toward the trail. When Byron and the cabin were out of sight, they began running. Five minutes later, they stopped, panting, in front of Myrna’s little hut.

  Myrna was sitting on her porch talking with a woman dressed in shorts and a T-shirt.

  “Did you kids have fun?” Myrna asked.

  “Yes!” Josh said. “We met a big guy named Byron and his owl.”

  “He showed us his painting,” Ruth Rose said. “He sure is a good artist.”

  Myrna nodded. “Byron makes his own paints from nature,” she said. “He gathers berries, digs up roots, anything he can find. He grinds the stuff up to create his different colors.”

  Myrna introduced the woman to the kids. “Lucy is a friend of Jack’s,” she said. “She’ll drive you back to your hotel.”

  Lucy smiled at the kids. “Jack’s at the hospital with his wife,” she said. “Looks like today is the day for the baby to be born.”

  They said good-bye to Myrna and followed Lucy to the trail. They had only gone a short distance when they saw a man approaching them. He was hurrying toward the village.

  When the man noticed Lucy and the kids, he stopped. His face was red and sweaty. “Am I on the right trail for the village?” he asked.

  The man was wearing a straw hat, dressy pants, and a striped shirt. His briefcase and shiny black shoes looked out of place in the forest.

  Even with the hat, Dink recognized the man. He had been sitting near them at the hotel restaurant yesterday. What was he doing in the woods?

  “Yes, about another five minutes straight ahead,” Lucy said. Then she added, “Is anyone expecting you?”

  “Yes,” the man said, then hurried on his way.

  “That’s odd,” Lucy said after the man left them. She chuckled. “If he’s a salesman, he’ll have a hard time selling anything!”

  They kept walking. When they passed the zombie sign, Dink asked Lucy about it.

  “I have no idea what that means or who put it there,” Lucy said.

  “Jack thought it might be a joke,” Ruth Rose said.

  “Not very funny,” Lucy said. “A lot of people who live near these parts believe in zombies.”

  Lucy dropped the kids off, and they traipsed into the hotel.

  “What are we gonna do about Byron?” Josh asked. “I think he dug up those graves, and I think he was the guy we saw in the cemetery last night!”

  “Let’s talk upstairs,” Dink said quietly.

  They took the elevator. On their floor, Ruth Rose unlocked the room she shared with her grandmother.

  “Here’s what I think,” Dink said, sitting on the carpet. “The man we saw in the cemetery last night might have dug up those two graves, but we don’t know that for sure.”

  Josh and Ruth Rose plopped down next to Dink.

  “And we don’t know if the guy we saw was Byron, either,” Dink went on.

  “Well, I think it was Byron,” Josh said. “Who else could it be?”

  “How about Jack?” Dink asked. “He’s tall, and he has light hair like the man in the cemetery.”

  “Jack?” Ruth Rose said. “But he was sleeping in his hammock.”

  “Did you actually see him in the hammock when we left?” Dink asked. “Jack could’ve gone to the cemetery-after we were asleep and made it back to the campsite before we did.”

  Josh shook his head. “Why would Jack be down inside that grave?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dink said. “But I don’t know why Byron would, either.”

  “I just thought of someone else with light hair,” Ruth Rose said.

  Dink and Josh looked at her.

  “That man we passed on the trail with Lucy,” she said. “He was wearing that funny hat, but underneath, his hair was kind of grayish white.”

  “And you know what else?” Dink said. “He and another guy were sitting in the restaurant when we had lunch with your grandmother yesterday!”

  “So?” said Josh.

  “Well, they seemed pretty interested when we were talking about zombies and stuff,” Dink said.

  Josh laughed. “Who wouldn’t be?” he said.

  Just then the kids heard a light thump coming from the hallway. They froze, all staring at the doorknob as it slowly turned.

  Suddenly the door swung open and Ruth Rose’s grandmother walked in.

  “What’s the matter with you three?” she asked, setting down her paint box. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

  “Gram, you scared us!” Ruth Rose cried.

  “Me? I’m just a harmless old lady! So how was the sleep-out with Jack?” she asked.

  “We had a nice time, Gram,” Ruth Rose said. “We’ve just been trying to figure out who robbed those graves.”

  Ruth Rose’s grandmother sat on her bed and kicked off her sandals. “Can I help?” she asked.

  Ruth Rose told her grandmother all about going to the cemetery last night, and about the man they saw crawling out of the grave.

  “My word!” her grandmother said. “Did you tell Jack what you saw?”

  “Yes,” Dink said. “He said it was probably one of the men from the village guarding the cemetery.”

  “Dink thinks the guy we saw was Jack,” Josh said.

  “I didn’t say it was Jack,” Dink responded. “I said it could be. The person in the grave was tall and he had light hair and dark clothes. Just like Jack.”

  “And just like Byron,” Josh said.

  Ruth Rose’s grandmother looked at Josh. “Now, who is Byron?” she asked.

  “He’s this man we met after Jack took his wife to the hospital this morning,” Ruth Rose said.

  “Yes, Jack kindly called me and let me know you’d be staying in the village with someone called Myrna Sanchez,” her grandmother said. “But you decided to go back to the cemetery, right?”

  “We wanted to look for clues,” Ruth Rose said. “But the villagers were all in the cemetery, so we followed some footprints. They led right to a cabin in the woods. That’s where we met Byron and his owl, Bill.”

  “I think Byron’s the guy we saw in the graveyard,” Josh interrupted. “I think he stole those coffins, too, because there was red dirt on his shovel just like the clay in the cemetery!”

  Finally, Ruth Rose told her grandmother about the man they had met on the path. “It could have been him, too,” she said. “He had light hair, and he seemed pretty interested in the village.”

  Dink mentioned that the same man had been eating lunch near them yesterday. “I think he was trying to hear what we were saying,” he said.

  “Okay you’ve mentioned three different men who are tall with light hair,” Ruth Rose’s gram said. “One of them could be the man you saw last night. What I don’t understand is why any of them would have any interest in that cemetery.”

  “I just thought of something,” Dink said. “When we walked down to the water with Jack, he told us he’d love to buy a piece of that land.”

  Everyone was staring at Dink.

  “What if Jack put up that sign and dug up the graves to scare the villagers?” Dink continued. “If they left, maybe he’d be able to buy their land.”

  “Well, I still think Byron did it,” Josh said. He stuck up three fingers. “One, there’s red clay on his shovel. Two, he could have left those huge footprints we saw. Three, he’s a painter, so he could have painted that sign.”

  “Byron paints?” asked Ruth Rose’s grandmother.

  “We only saw one painti
ng,” Ruth Rose said, “but it was real good.”

  Ruth Rose’s grandmother reached for her sandals. “I have a hard time imagining that Jack is involved with grave robbing,” she said. “But I would very much like to meet Byron!”

  They flagged down a taxi in front of the hotel. Dink told the driver they wanted to go to the Old Forest Trail.

  “Got it!” the driver said as she moved smoothly into the late-afternoon traffic.

  Ten minutes later, Ruth Rose’s grandmother paid the driver. “Will you pick us up right here in an hour?” she asked.

  “Sure thing,” the driver said. She waved and drove away.

  Ruth Rose’s grandmother looked at the dark and dense forest in front of them. “Are you sure there’s a trail in here?” she asked.

  Josh showed her the plaque. “Don’t worry about snakes!” he said bravely.

  “I wasn’t even thinking about snakes until you mentioned them!” Ruth Rose’s grandmother said.

  This time Josh led the way as they hiked the trail. They stopped when they came to the zombie sign.

  “That is strange,” Ruth Rose’s grandmother said. “Someone definitely wants people to think there are zombies around here.”

  “We think it’s the same guy who dug up the graves!” Ruth Rose said.

  Her grandmother nodded. “What a busy little zombie!”

  They hiked on and soon came to Myrna’s village. No one was around.

  “Look, they’re all in that big hut,” Dink said, pointing to the largest of the buildings.

  The door was open and the kids could see people sitting on benches. Dink heard a voice speaking firmly.

  “They’re having some kind of meeting,” Ruth Rose said. “Maybe it has something to do with the dug-up graves.”

  “Is it very far to Byron’s cabin from here?” her grandmother asked.

  “No,” Dink said, pointing. “That trail goes to the cemetery, and then you take a little path to where Byron lives.”

  The three kids led Ruth Rose’s grandmother down the trail. They stopped at the little cemetery.

  “Someone worked hard to dig those graves up,” Ruth Rose’s grandmother commented, pointing to the mounds of red dirt near the two empty holes.

  “See, Gram, that’s the same clay we saw on Byron’s shovel,” Ruth Rose said.

  “Yes, but I would assume red clay could be found in other places,” her grandmother said.

  They continued walking. A few minutes later, they stood in the trees behind Byron’s cabin.

  “I don’t see him,” Ruth Rose whispered, peering around a tree trunk.

  “Why don’t we just go knock on his door?” her grandmother suggested.

  Josh giggled. “I don’t know if he even has a door!” he said.

  “Come on,” Dink said. He stepped into the sunshine. The foursome walked around the cabin.

  Byron was standing in front of his easel with a brush in his hand. Small jars of paint were lined up on the easel’s tray.

  “Hi, Byron,” Dink said.

  Byron turned around quickly. He had a blob of white paint on his chin. When he saw the kids, he broke into a wide smile.

  “This is Mrs. Hathaway, my grandmother,” Ruth Rose told Byron.

  Byron picked up a cloth to wipe his hands. Putting out one hand, he said, “Hello, I am very pleased to meet you.”

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Ruth Rose’s grandmother said with a warm smile. “May I look at your painting?”

  Byron blushed. “I have better ones in my house,” he said.

  They all studied Byron’s painting. Since this morning, Byron had added something. He had painted tombstones inside the fence. Now Dink recognized the iron fence.

  It was the fence at the cemetery.

  “I think you are a truly wonderful painter,” Ruth Rose’s grandmother told Byron.

  “This is the cemetery, isn’t it?” Dink asked Byron.

  The tall man nodded. “I like it there,” he said.

  “Do you go there a lot?” Dink asked.

  “Bill likes to hunt mice at night,” Byron said. “Sometimes I go with him. I sit by the cemetery. It’s peaceful there.”

  “Did you ever see anyone digging in the cemetery?” Dink asked.

  Suddenly Byron’s face grew red. He put his brush down. “I didn’t mean to steal it,” he said.

  “Steal what?” asked Ruth Rose.

  Byron walked into his cabin and came back holding something in his hand. It was a man’s leather wallet.

  “I was sitting by the cemetery last week. It was dark, and Bill was hunting,” Byron said. “Two men came and dug up the graves. They carried the coffins away. When they were gone, I found this in the dirt. I saved it for them, but they didn’t come back.”

  “That’s what the guy was doing in the grave last night!” Josh said. “Looking for his wallet!”

  Ruth Rose’s grandmother took the wallet and looked inside. “How nice,” she said. “He even has his picture on his business card.”

  The kids looked at the white card.

  The name Jay Frisk was printed in big black letters. Below the name it said LAND DEVELOPER, with a phone number and an e-mail address.

  Next to the name was a small picture of the man they’d passed on the path.

  “I get it,” Dink said. “This guy dug up those graves to scare the villagers into selling their land!”

  “Now everything makes sense!” Josh said. “This Frisk guy is the zombie! He probably put up that sign, too!”

  “What should we do?” Dink said.

  Ruth Rose’s grandmother whipped out her cell phone. She dialed information, then said, “The New Orleans Police Department, please.”

  The next morning, Jack picked up the kids after breakfast. Ruth Rose was wearing pink from headband to sneakers.

  “You look like a sunrise,” Jack told her.

  “Thanks, Jack,” Ruth Rose said. “Was your baby born yet?”

  “Yes!” the proud father said. “It’s a beautiful little girl. Theresa and her mom are sleeping, so now’s our chance to get a peek at the alligator nest.”

  A half hour later, they were all hunkered down in some bushes near the water. Jack had brought binoculars, and they were taking turns peering at a mother alligator.

  She was lying half in the water with her long snout pointed toward her nest. The gator’s scaly hide was blackish green, ridged and bumpy like a truck tire.

  “I don’t see any babies,” whispered Josh.

  “They haven’t hatched yet,” Jack said, pointing to a small hill of vegetation. “That mound is her nest. The eggs are buried in that stuff.”

  “Why isn’t she sitting on the nest?” Ruth Rose asked. “Won’t the eggs get cold?”

  “The rotting vegetation keeps the eggs warm,” Jack explained. “Mama gator is watching the water in case a meal swims by.”

  The large mother alligator lay as still as a log. Her mouth was partly open, and every now and then her eyes would blink.

  “You kids did a good job figuring out who robbed those graves,” Jack said. “The villagers reburied the coffins and had a nice ceremony. The cops took the two developers in for some serious questions. They won’t be trying to scam any more people.”

  “Do you think the people in the village were really going to sell their land?” Dink asked.

  “They would have eventually,” Jack said. “My guess is that if the robbed graves didn’t convince them, the scammers would have tried something else next time. They were greedy guys who wanted to build high-rise apartments there.”

  “If Byron hadn’t been out with his owl, he never would have seen those men,” Josh said. “Or found that wallet.”

  Jack smiled. “Byron told Myrna that he’s been on his own since his parents abandoned him when he was eight years old. Never went to school, just lived in these woods. Myrna and the villagers are building him a new hut near hers. He’s going to live with them now.”

  “And B
yron gave my grandmother one of his paintings,” Ruth Rose said. “She showed it to a man who owns an art gallery. He said Byron is going to make a ton of money!”

  Jack put his finger to his lips. “Listen,” he whispered.

  They all heard high, croaky noises coming from the nest.

  “Now watch,” Jack said.

  The mother alligator began moving toward the mound. When she got there, she scraped away the top layer of the vegetation.

  Twenty or thirty tiny green-and-yellow alligators were crawling out of their eggs. As they freed themselves, they wriggled toward their mother.

  “Now check this out,” Jack said quietly.

  The mama alligator flattened herself on the ground with her jaws opened. The babies scrambled over her bottom jaw, right into her mouth!

  “Is she going to eat them?” Josh asked.

  Jack laughed. “No, that’s how mama alligators and crocodiles protect their babies,” he said. “They’re safe inside her mouth.”

  “Protect them from what?” asked Ruth Rose, taking her turn with the binoculars.

  “There are a lot of critters who would love to snack on a baby alligator,” Jack said. “Raccoons, possums, herons, you name it. When Mama thinks it’s safe, she’ll open her mouth and her babies will crawl out.”

  The four backed quietly away and headed for the trail.

  “Speaking of lunch,” Josh said as they hiked, “I’m hungry!”

  “Josh, no one was talking about lunch,” Dink said.

  Josh grinned. “Now we are!” he said.

  THE END

  About seven years ago I had an idea for a mystery about an author who disappears. I decided to call the book The Absent Author. Since then, I have written 25 more mysteries for kids. And now, with The Zombie Zone, the series is complete. What a wonderful time I have had dreaming up plots and mysteries and crimes to keep my readers entertained!

  No series can be written without a lot of people getting involved. I would like to thank all the people at Random House who supported my writing and my ideas. But most of all, I am grateful to you, my readers, for choosing my books to read. Thank you also for your letters, e-mails, and suggestions over the years.