App of the Living Dead

by App of the Living Dead (retail) (epub)

  I opened my eyes, and for a few wonderful moments I forgot that our town had become a land of the undead. As my brain whirred to life, I tried to remember what day it was. Did I have school? Had I finished all my homework? And then, after those few blissful seconds, it all came back in a rush. Oh, yeah. We were zombie town. I heaved a sigh and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

  But maybe today that would all change, and we could stop Veratrum forever.

  I stretched and padded into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. I dressed for comfort in jeans and a hoodie, then headed downstairs. Willa and the boys were eating cereal around the kitchen table.

  Charlie poked his head up. “Ready for our big day?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, grabbing a bowl and filling it.

  Marcus slid a printed photo across the table of a young guy with slicked-back blond hair and a tie as crooked as his fake smile.

  The corners of my mouth automatically turned down. “Who’s that?”

  “Veratrum’s CEO, Preston Frick.”

  I did a double take. “What is he, twelve?”

  “He’s twenty-four,” Marcus said, “which is basically twelve in CEO years.”

  Charlie pointed at the picture. “If we see him at Veratrum, he’s the guy to cure first. So we can get some answers out of that smug face.”

  Willa stood and started clearing empty bowls. “Has anyone heard from our gamer army?”

  I chewed through a bite of cereal. “Vanya texted and said her parents and the diner’s customers have all awakened and agreed to help. They’re focusing on the stores on Main Street.”

  “The lax bros and football dudes are taking the south fields and the high school,” Jason said.

  Charlie scrolled through his texts. “Isaac, Andy, and a couple of others checked in. They’re awake and human again. They’ve already started curing, all around town.”

  Good, I thought. So even if our visit to Veratrum turned up nothing, at least some progress would be made. I finished my cereal and chugged some orange juice.

  Charlie hefted a backpack onto the table. “I packed all our phone chargers in case we need them. I have a pair of binoculars. A bunch of random stuff we may or may not need.” He paused. “Jason, did you get that thing?”

  “Yep.” Jason passed Charlie something small, tightly wrapped in a paper bag.

  “What’s that?” Willa asked.

  “You’ll see.” Charlie smiled secretively. “Okay, let’s hit the road.”

  We headed outside to Charlie’s driveway, where his mom’s SUV sat waiting. Charlie dangled the keys in front of Jason, who reluctantly grabbed them.

  “I don’t know about this,” Jason said.

  Charlie patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine.”

  Willa agreed. “You’re as big as an adult. You’ve driven go-karts before, right? How hard could it be?”

  Apparently driving could be very hard. Or so we learned after Jason took out two mailboxes, several hedges, and three flowering bushes. I figured he’d get the hang of it after a while, but it had been five minutes and he still couldn’t go straight down a wide road with nothing in his way.

  “Don’t overcompensate when you start to veer off!” Charlie yelled.

  “Keep the wheel straight!” Marcus said.

  Willa groaned. “I feel like I’m inside a pinball machine. And I’m the ball.”

  Jason raised his fist in the air. “You guys are the ones who made me do this!”

  “Both hands on the wheel!” we all screamed.

  We reached the outskirts of town where no one lived. There were only businesses, warehouses, and a couple of industrial buildings.

  Marcus, who was sitting next to me in the middle row, slid a little closer. “When this is all over and we go back to school, you’re going to check out that game I created, right?”

  Really? That was what he was thinking about right now? “Yeah, sure,” I said, watching out the window as a mailman zombie lurched across someone’s front lawn.

  Finally, with a screech and a sudden stop that made me silently thank the inventor of seatbelts, we reached Veratrum headquarters. The short, two-story brick building and its surrounding parking lot was enclosed by a chain-link fence. The gate was closed—not locked, just latched—but a couple of hastily abandoned cars blocked the entrance.

  “Looks like the SUV stops here,” Jason said.

  Which normally wouldn’t be a problem. We could just unlatch the gate and walk through the parking lot and up to the building.

  If the place wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

  The chain-link fence was confining dozens of undead employees to the parking lot. They staggered around with their creepy gray eyes, bouncing off cars and one another, randomly grunting and groaning.

  Charlie unzipped his backpack and took out the binoculars. He raised them to his eyes and peered through the windows of the office building. “There are a ton of zombies inside, too. Mostly on the first floor.”

  We groaned as if we were the ones who were infected. Charlie passed the binoculars around so we could all take a look.

  Then Charlie released his seat belt and said, “You guys ready?”

  “What?” Willa blurted. “How in the world are we going to get to the building?”

  “And even if we get through the lot safely,” I said, “how would we get inside? The zombies are clustered toward the glass front doors.”

  “Same answer for both.” Charlie reached into his backpack with a smile. “Create a distraction.”

  He took out that small brown paper bag Jason had given him earlier and pulled something out of it. My eyes widened as I saw the label.

  Willa gasped. “Are those firecrackers?”

  “I prefer to call them zombie catnip,” Charlie said. “We know the zombies are attracted to noise. This, and Jason’s accurate arm, will ensure that the zombies go where we want them to.”

  Marcus pointed through the windshield. “How about the far left side of the building? The zombies in the parking lot will gravitate there, away from the gate. And the zombies inside will go toward the west side windows, giving us a clear path through the front door.”

  “That’s perfect,” Charlie said, handing the small bundle to Jason.

  Jason ripped open the thin red outer paper to reveal a package of small firecrackers. They looked like miniature sticks of dynamite or scary birthday candles.

  “The wicks are tied together,” Jason said, “so I’ll light one and they’ll all go off.” He lifted them up in his fist and mimed throwing. “One problem, though. They’re too light. Even at my hardest throw, they’ll only go twenty feet.”

  Charlie scratched his chin. “We’ll need to increase the mass so you can get a better distance.” He fished around in his backpack and held up a roll of duct tape. “How about we find the perfect rock and tape it to the package?”

  Jason nodded. “That’ll work!”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s get out. Try and be as quiet as possible.”

  We slid out of the SUV and hid behind it, hoping not to attract any zombie attention. Marcus found a good-size rock, and Charlie wound the duct tape around the entire package.

  Willa had been peering through the binoculars. “Okay, guys. Once the zombie horde heads west, we unlatch the gate. The clearest path looks like it’s straight through between the red compact and the silver convertible. Keep yourselves huddled down as you run, and use the parked cars as cover.”

  We all nodded.

  Charlie placed the firecracker-and-rock bundle in Jason’s hand. “Now can you reach the left side of the building?”

  Jason flexed his arm, showing off his bicep. “What do you think?”

  Charlie just shook his head. He pulled out a book of matches and lit one. “Let’s do this.”

  A series of pops and sparks flew up from the ground as the firecrackers landed on the far left side of the building. A small plume of smoke followed. A
nd so did the zombies.

  We unlatched the gate and gingerly made our way into the parking lot. It took a minute for all of the zombies to realize something fun was going on at the end of the lot. Once they cleared out, we bolted for the front door of the building.

  Charlie cupped his hands around his eyes and peered through the glass doors. “They’re all clumped over by the west side windows,” he whispered. “Just as planned. Be quiet, just in case.”

  We eased the door open and tiptoed over the threshold, careful not to let the door slam behind us. A black sign with tiny white letters hung on the entryway wall, detailing where the departments were located. My eyes scanned down the list—Accounting, Marketing, Development, Office of the CEO.

  “Boom,” I said. “Preston Frick is in office 201, second floor. Let’s head there. Maybe we’ll find some answers in his files.”

  “It looks like the staircase is in the center of the building,” Charlie said, pointing into the distance.

  We inched down the main hallway. The rug was an ugly spotted brown, but it muffled our footsteps. The building was like a corn maze, except with tall, gray cubicle walls instead of corn. Windows lined the perimeter and large offices and conference rooms took up the corners.

  An undead groan came from behind a closed office door as we passed. Fluorescent lights flickered in the ceiling. Signs of struggle littered the floor from when the first employees started to change—a knocked-over chair, a broken coffee mug, a random stapler that perhaps someone had tried to use as a weapon.

  I was glad the zombies had all bolted for the windows when the firecrackers went off, because passing each cubicle would have been terrifying if there was a possible zombie in each one. Instead of worrying about that, I focused on moving forward as quickly as I could, hunching over so my head wouldn’t appear above a cubicle wall.

  Until a hand lashed out from a cubicle opening and wrapped around my ankle.

  I gasped, too loudly, and fell to the carpet.

  Marcus was at my side immediately, pulling the zombie’s fingers back until my ankle was free. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “He’s stuck.”

  The zombie’s tie was caught on a coat hook that had been bolted into the cube wall, and his empty zombie brain hadn’t figured out a way to free himself. The cubicle nameplate said Chris Edwards—Accountant. He’d probably been stuck like that for days, since the zombie apocalypse began.

  Charlie snickered. “Talk about being chained to your desk.”

  Willa rolled her eyes at his joke but simultaneously smiled.

  “Uh-oh,” Jason said, peeking over the cubicle wall.

  I hopped to my feet and took a quick look. The undead accountant wouldn’t be a problem. But a couple of his zombie co-workers who’d heard my loud gasp and left the window to come this way were something to be concerned about.

  “I think it’s time to stop going at half-speed hunched over and just full-speed run for it,” I said.

  We all wordlessly agreed and took off. I risked a glance over my shoulder. A couple more zombies had joined the first two. The crowd was beginning to lose interest in the firecrackers now that the smoke cleared.

  “We have to get up the stairs quickly,” I said. There were still zombies on the second floor, but from what we’d seen through the binoculars, there weren’t as many. Which sounded fantastic right about now.

  Marcus skidded to a stop in front of the metal stairwell door. He wrapped his hand around the knob. “As soon as I pull this open, run in.”

  Because I was the one in front, I said, “Okay, go!”

  He yanked open the door.

  “RARGH!” A young woman with purple hair and really cool ankle boots reached her zombified hands out toward my face.

  Startled, I grabbed her shoulders by instinct and twirled her around like we were dancing.

  “Art Department is that way!” I yelled and gave her a push.

  Everyone else had hustled into the stairwell. They pulled me in to join them and Marcus slammed the door shut, closing the cool zombie out. (Hey, she may have been undead, but I could still appreciate her style.)

  “Any other surprises?” I asked, one hand on my rapidly beating heart.

  Jason looked up the flight of stairs and gave us the all clear. “She was the only one.”

  We took a moment to catch our breath and dragged ourselves slowly up the staircase. There was a matching gray metal door on the second floor. I almost didn’t want to open it. The stairwell was safe and zombie-free. But we’d come here for a reason, and procrastinating wasn’t going to make things go any more smoothly. We just had to face whatever was waiting on the other side.

  “There aren’t as many up here,” Charlie said. “We don’t have to hide. We can take them on and cure them.”

  We all readied our phones. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

  The smell hit us first. It was like someone had made chili in the microwave and then let it sit on the counter for three days. The first zombie we encountered had been hanging around the copy machine. He wore a crooked tie and one shoe.

  We lined up four across and cured him in record time. The man blinked quickly and didn’t even ask any questions before he dropped to the rug for his big nap.

  Two women in stylish blazers were next. We tried to be stealthy and quiet, not attracting too much attention as we tossed our cures. Jason helped them into a nearby office, where they both quickly slumped into cushy desk chairs and closed their eyes.

  “You guys,” Willa whispered. “Here it is.”

  She’d stopped in front of a closed door. The Office of Preston Frick, CEO.

  Charlie reached out hesitantly toward the knob. “Ready to cure if he’s in there all zombified?”

  In response, we held up our phones.

  “Did you hear the joke about the virus?” Charlie asked with a smirk. “Never mind. I don’t want to spread it around.”

  I let out a small groan. Now, Charlie? Really?

  He turned the knob and pushed the door in.

  The office was strangely furnished. It contained a giant mahogany desk that was too big for the room. Photos of yachts and Preston with various D-level celebrities hung in tacky gold frames on the walls.

  “There are no filing cabinets,” Willa said. “I thought we needed to go through his files.”

  “Everything’s probably on his computer,” I said, pointing to the sleek laptop that lay open on his desk. I could hear the fan whirring inside, so it was already on. But that was weird; a battery couldn’t last that long.

  I inched around the side of the desk. If the laptop was still on that meant that he’d been in here recently. I pulled back his desk chair and—

  “AHHHH!” A screaming man came scrambling out from under the desk, waving a gold letter opener in front of his face like he was going to attack me with it. And when I realized who it was, he was lucky I didn’t attack him.

  “Whoa, whoa,” I said, holding my hands out in front of me. “We’re human.”

  Preston Frick’s eyes were wild with panic as he gazed at each of us in turn. He didn’t look much like the picture I’d seen this morning, but it was him. That slicked back hair forked out in all directions. And his smug expression had been replaced by fear.

  “You—you’re children,” he stammered, putting the letter opener down on his desk.

  The CEO of Veratrum Games had been hiding in his office, probably taking a nap under his desk. No wonder he was startled at first. But now that he knew we were only kids and not zombies who’d figured out how to open a door, he shook off his fear and straightened his red tie.

  “What are you doing here?” he snapped.

  I jutted my chin out. “We’re here to talk to you. We know Veratrum is responsible for the zombie outbreak.”

  “And the aliens,” Willa added.

  “And the monsters,” Marcus said.

  Charlie stepped right up to his face. “So you’re going to reverse it. Now. Make eve
ryone human again.”

  Preston laughed at us. Actually laughed. “Or what? What could you possibly do to me?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “We found a way through a swarm of zombies in the parking lot, survived a horde of them lumbering around the building, and made it all the way up here to your fancy office where you were hiding under your desk. So maybe, just maybe, we could find a way to lure a couple of zombies in here and lock them in with you.”

  His eyes widened for a moment, then he looked down at his desk. “I can’t fix it,” he mumbled.

  “What was that?” Charlie asked.

  Preston looked back up at us with something like remorse in his eyes. “I tried. But rewriting the code didn’t help. The only way to turn them human again is to play the game and cure them one by one. But there are too many . . .” His voice drifted off as a thought occurred to him. He plastered on a fake smile. “Now, with you kids here, we could make a team, right? You seem to really have a handle on this. You can go first and clear a path. I’ll follow and—”

  Jason puffed out his chest. “You want to use a group of kids as human shields? That’s where you’re going with this?”

  “No, of course not,” he said too quickly.

  Willa clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Then what did you mean when you said ‘you can go first and clear a path’?”

  Preston gazed down at his hands, which had started to tremble. “I’ve been stuck in here for days.”

  “And we’ve been out on the streets curing zombies you made,” Marcus said.

  Preston lifted his hands in the air. “I can’t fix it. I tried. So what else do you want me to do?”

  I pulled the guest chair from the corner of the office and settled myself in. “How about you tell us the truth? The whole story. Why you created these games that weren’t games. Why you unleashed these disasters on Wolcott.”

  He immediately got defensive. “It’s wasn’t—”

  But Marcus cut in. “We know about your big contract. We know more than you think.”

  Preston’s eyes shifted around nervously.

  “We’re all stuck here,” Charlie said. “You might as well come clean.”