by Jeff Strand
“I’m sorry about your foot,” said Adam. “I never meant for anything like that to happen.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Friends don’t do things like that.”
“Really, don’t worry about it.”
“I’m going to make it up to you,” Adam promised. “I don’t care how long it takes. Maybe...I don’t know, maybe there’s a lab that’s developed a brand-new line of artificial toes, toes that they’re still experimenting with, ones with retractable toenails or something like that, maybe really strong toes where you could hang upside down with just one of them—don’t monkeys have those long toes where they can dangle? I’ll figure out a way to get you on the list. And if you don’t want that, if you want plastic toes that don’t do anything special, I’ll make that happen too. Whatever you want. And you will never do homework again. English homework, math homework, chemistry, economics, home ec, PE.. .I’m doing it all for you. Maybe not PE. I can’t do PE for you. But any work you take home, just pass it on to me.” “You don’t have to do my homework.”
“I do. And I’ll do it right, not the way I do my own homework. And you can have all of my video games. Maybe the ones you already have you can let me keep so I have something to play, but everything else is yours. Tonight. As soon as we get the doll fixed, I’m going to put them all in a box and bring them over. I swear.”
“I don’t think we’re going to have a lot of free time tonight, even after we fix the doll,” I said.
“Well, whenever. Whenever we have some free time. I’m not going to renege on this. Kelley is a witness. And Kelley, you can go into my room and pick three things you want. Any three. I didn’t drag you into this, Tyler did, but I’m so sorry for dragging Tyler into this and making him drag you into it.”
“I don’t want any of your things, but thanks,” said Kelley. “You’ve never been in my room. I’ve got lots of stuff. Tell her, Tyler.”
“You don’t need to give all of your things away,” I said. “It’s fine, really.”
Adam shook his head. “I’m not going to do dumb things anymore. Never again. Those days where I was constantly doing dumb things—they were fine for a while; they’ve worked for me so far. But they have to end. I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep being the friend who messes everything up. I want to be the friend you introduce to other people. I want people to say, ‘This is Adam, and he is my friend,’ instead of, ‘This is Adam, he’s a little better when you get to know him, but not much.’ I want you to be proud of me. You too, Kelley, even though I know that’ll never happen. You guys are going to see a brand-new Adam Westell. I may not even keep the name Adam. Maybe I’ll be Blake. Or Ziggy. Or I’ll make up a name that nobody has ever had. Something without vowels. Zgmf. Or something that isn’t pronounced the way it’s spelled. Didn’t some guy do that one time? I don’t remember. But I promise you, both of you, that I’m not going to be the one who ruins everything anymore. I’m going to be the one who solves problems, not causes them. I’m going to be the one you can count on, the one you call when you need help, not the reason you call somebody else. As soon as I saw all of that blood on you, I knew—”
“What blood?” asked the cabdriver.
“Uh,” said Adam.
The driver applied the brakes and turned around to stare at me. “If you’re bleeding inside my vehicle, I’m gonna cut you.” “Wouldn’t that make the problem worse?”
Hadn’t Kelley, Adam, and I been discussing my injuries right here in the cab where he could hear us? Maybe the driver was a polite individual who made it a point not to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, and so he’d been thinking of a favorite song or something while we discussed my missing toes. Or maybe he was moderately stupid. Either way, he looked pretty darn mad.
“I’m gonna kick you out and then cut you. Where are you bleeding?”
“Nowhere.”
“Don’t lie to me.” He pulled off to the side of the road and shut off the engine. “I just had my cab cleaned after this lady gave birth in it a couple days ago, and I’m not going through that again. You kids can just pay me and get out.” He tapped the meter. “That’s one-oh-three.”
As has been previously mentioned, we didn’t have much money. If you choose to take life lessons from this book, and I hope you don’t, one of them would be that at some point, the cabdriver is going to want to be paid, and if you knew you didn’t have enough cash, you should have figured something out along the way instead of simply hoping that the problem would disappear.
Kelley, Adam, and I all did that thing where you look at each other with “So, do you have any money?” expressions even though you already know the answer. Like when your dad looks in the pantry and says, “Who ate all of the Ho Hos?” and you and your friends all look at each other, even though all of you were there for the Ho Ho-eating party.
“We’re not sleazeballs,” I assured him. “I promise you’ll get your money.”
“Good. Then hand it over.”
“We don’t have it right.. .y’know.. .wow.”
The driver narrowed his eyes. “Define ‘now.’”
“On us.”
“You let me drive you all this way and you didn’t have money for the fare?”
“We never thought we’d need you this long. We actually didn’t think we’d need a cab at all. But my car got stolen, and we needed somebody to do a high-speed chase, and.well, you remember, you were there. We were never going to jump out and run. My parents will pay you. I guarantee it.”
“And are your parents in the cab with you right now?”
“Uh, no.”
“Then we have a problem, don’t we?”
“No, no, no, there’s no problem. You’ll get your money. If you have to drop us all the way back off at my house, that’s fine. I’ll make sure you get paid.”
The driver sighed. “You seem like good kids. Well, no, you seem like rotten kids, but you don’t seem like thieves.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a business card. “This is how you get in touch with me. I expect you to do so. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
We all sat there for a moment.
“Are you making us get out?” I asked.
“Yes, I am.”
“Is there any chance you could take us to the jewelry shop? I mean, we’ve promised to pay you, so what’s another ten bucks on the fare, right?”
The driver opened his door and got out of the cab. Kelley and
Adam hurriedly got out as well. The driver opened my door, saw my foot, and then gave me one of the ugliest scowls I’d ever seen.
“There’s.there’s.I didn’t know you were bleeding that much! I thought you scraped up your elbow or something! Look at that!”
“It’s not leaking that bad,” I insisted. “See? There’s barely any on the floor.”
“That’s worse than the umbilical cord stain! Get out! Now!” The driver grabbed me by the shirt collar and pulled me out of the car. He raised his fist.
“I’m not a violent person except in the monster truck audience,” he said, “but this is a bunch of garbage. You think you can just bleed all over my cab and not suffer the consequences?” “I didn’t bleed all over it!” I said. “It was only a little bit! There was no spurting!”
“It’s spurting right now!”
I looked down at my foot. “That’s not spurting. That’s dripping.” “It’s dripping a lot.”
“That’s because you pulled me out of the car. It wasn’t dripping that much inside. I’ll clean it up. I promise. Get me some hot water and a sponge, and I’ll clean it up right now.”
He slammed me against the car. Kelley let out a quick scream. “It would be different if you wanted me to take you to the hospital,” said the driver. “That I could get behind. But you, you’re being inconsiderate with your blood while you’re making me take you to a jewelry store! I should call the cops.”
“I’m okay with that right now,” I said
.
The cabdriver glanced at something behind me. I glanced over there too. Somebody was on the other side of the street a few blocks away, running toward us. He was wearing a white dress. Or a hospital gown.
“You’re not even worth it,” the driver said. “I want my fare before the end of the night.”
“You’ll get it.”
“Give me some collateral. Give me your driver’s license so I know how to get in touch with you.”
I nodded, quickly took out my wallet, and handed him my license. It had the worst picture ever taken of any human being in the entire history of mankind, but for once, I didn’t care about the shame of showing it to somebody.
The driver shoved the license into his pocket. “I need more,” he said. “Give me that doll that you’re so obsessed with so I know you’ll pay me.”
I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”
He slammed me against the side of the cab again.
Adam let out a battle cry and ran at the driver. I’ve gotta be honest with you, Adam is not somebody who intimidates me, but it was one hell of a battle cry, and I was glad he wasn’t running at me.
The driver.. .he didn’t actually punch him. He sort of did this move where he grabbed Adam’s arm and swung him around, almost like a square dance. Adam kept running for another ten feet or so and then tumbled to the ground. The intimidation inspired by his battle cry disappeared.
Kelley ran at him.
The driver yanked the doll out of my hand. “Stop!” he shouted at her.
Kelley stopped.
“I am not going to hit a girl, but I will poke this doll’s eye out! I don’t know exactly what’s going on here, but I do know that you don’t want this doll’s eye to get poked out!”
The man was still running toward us. It was definitely a hospital gown. He was about two blocks away.
The driver shoved me to the ground and got back in his cab. He started the engine while Kelley helped me back up.
“Tyler?” said Adam.
I threw open the back door to the cab, but it sped off. I chased after it for a couple of steps, landed on my foot wrong, and fell back onto the pavement.
“Tyler!” Adam’s voice was filled with terror.
“What?”
“Look!” he shouted, pointing at the man running toward us.
I looked over there. It was Mr. Click.
CHAPTER 15
During the day’s events, there had been several different moments where the proper reaction was to freak out. We freaked out way more at this than we had the others.
Mr. Click was wearing a hospital gown. His head was tilted to the side at kind of a weird angle. His mouth was wide open, though he wasn’t making any noise.
If you’re good at catching continuity errors, my guess is that right now you’re thinking, “Wait a minute. Mr. Click was missing his left leg, so how can he run?” That’s exactly what I was thinking too, although you’re probably being calmly inquisitive while I was thinking, His leg! His leg! His leg’s back on! His leg’s back on!
Actually, though I don’t remember it word for word, I’m pretty sure the thoughts running through my head were:
Aaah! Zombie Click!
His leg! His leg!
I’m gonna die!
Zombie Click!
His leg’s back on! His leg’s back on!
Aaah!
The cabdriver stole my—Zombie Click!!—doll and—Zombie Click!!!—what if he—Zombie Click!!!—damages it—Zombie Click!!!
His left leg was back on, but it was all purple.
Clearly, what we had here was a situation where Mr. Click had returned from the dead to seek vengeance against those who had killed him. I couldn’t blame him—I mean, I would’ve done the same. I only wished that he could’ve timed his undead revenge for when we were still in the cab and could have driven away really fast.
Mr. Click stretched out his arms and opened his mouth even wider, though he remained silent.
He didn’t go for me. He went for Adam.
He pounced on top of him, clamping his hands around Adam’s neck as if to strangle him. The cab turned the corner and disappeared from sight, but that problem was much less important than the risk of Adam’s brains being eaten, so I grabbed the back of Mr. Click’s gown and tried to pull him away.
The gown tore.
This was officially the worst day ever.
Adam let out a high-pitched shriek that did not shatter every piece of glass in a six-block radius but sounded like it should have. Kelley and I each grabbed one of Mr. Click’s arms and tried to pull him away. The arm I was holding twisted and made a grotesque snap sound at the shoulder.
Adam frantically scooted away, now screaming as silently as Mr. Click. My ex-history teacher’s arm popped out of my grasp and flopped around at his side while Kelley desperately tried to hold on.
I grabbed the same arm, and we both yanked back. There was another hideous snap, and Mr. Click fell onto the ground, mouth opening and closing like he was trying to bite.
Kelley, Adam, and I packed a lot of screaming into the next few seconds.
“Don’t let him eat me!” Adam wailed.
A car pulled onto the street but suddenly sped up, clearly not wanting to get involved.
Mr. Click sat up and then pounced at Adam again. His arms weren’t working right, but he kept jerking his shoulders, as if trying to swing his arms around Adam’s neck.
I wrapped my arms around Mr. Click’s waist and dragged him backward, just a few inches. I couldn’t believe how strong he was. When imagining fighting a zombie (and I’m embarrassed to say that I had many times), I always thought I’d be able to overpower them without much difficulty.
“Mr. Click, can you hear me?” asked Kelley. “Can you understand what I’m saying?” I understood what she was trying to do, though because Mr. Click had very little humanity when he was alive, I doubted she’d be able to unlock it when he was dead.
Mr. Click continued to struggle to get at Adam.
“Run!” I shouted at Adam. He seemed to think that was a fine idea and sprinted off.
Mr. Click pulled away from me again, but I jumped on his back, keeping him on the ground. Was he trying to kill Adam or give him one last pop quiz?
“Kick him in the head!” I told Kelley.
She hesitated. She was, after all, a straight-A student who never entertained fantasies about kicking her teachers in the head.
“Do it!”
“What if he can be fixed?”
“What?”
“What if he can be fixed, but kicking him in the head messes him up beyond the fixing point?”
“He can’t be fixed! Kick him!”
Kelley kicked him in the head. It was a spectacular kick, a goal-scoring kick, and I think it left a dent. But it didn’t lower his energy level.
Mr. Click pulled free of me yet again, got to his feet, and took off running after Adam. Though Adam had had a solid head start, he was a pretty lousy runner, so I shouted, “Hurry!” after him.
I started to chase after Mr. Click, but you can guess how well that went, and I stopped after a few steps. Mr. Click raced after Adam, rapidly closing the distance between them until only about ten feet remained.. .and then his leg popped off again.
It wasn’t nearly as gory this time, which is not to say that it was dry. Some red goo stretched from the stump to his leg as he toppled forward, and then he continued to crawl. Although with only one leg and two messed-up arms, he couldn’t move very well.
Adam glanced back over his shoulder and seemed to realize that Mr. Click didn’t pose as much of a problem anymore. He jogged back to us, giving the zombie a wide berth.
“Are you guys okay?” Adam asked.
“Not so much,” I said.
“What just happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did he come back to life?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did he get out of the m
orgue?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did he find us?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why was he after me?”
“Why wouldn’t he be after you?” I asked. “You’re the one who bought the doll in the first place! You’re exactly the person he should be after!”
“Still...”
“No ‘still.’ Nothing else about this makes sense, but that part does.”
Mr. Click was crawling toward us, making poor time.
“Did you know this was going to happen?” Kelley demanded. “No,” Adam insisted.
“Are you sure?”
“If I knew he was going to come back to try to kill me, don’t you think I would’ve been more nervous the rest of the evening?” “Why do you think this happened?” Kelley asked.
There was a fraction of a second of hesitation before Adam said, “Dunno.”
“Are you keeping something from us?” I asked.
Adam shook his head.
“Are you sure?”
“I swear.”
“This isn’t a good time for secrets.”
“I don’t have any secrets.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“You just gave that big speech.”
“I still believe in that speech.”
“If you have anything to say, say it.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
“We won’t get mad.” (I was lying when I said that.)
“I really don’t know what happened.”
“No clue?”
“None.”
“No guesses?”
“None. I mean, it was something with voodoo, I assume.”
“I think you know something.”
“I don’t.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know anything.”
“I’m not going to stop bugging you.”
“Then we’re just wasting time.”
“So we waste time.”
“Don’t forget that the cabdriver has the doll.”
“Dammit!”
“It’ll be okay,” Adam assured me. “The doll has to be safe, or you’d be dead, right?”