Frankenstein laughed and pushed Nick away. “I don’t think you have the guts to face me alone. I hope your friends do come. Then I can beat you all up at the same time.” He sneered. “You chicken out and don’t show up, and I promise I’ll make it ten times worse.”
“I’ll be there,” Nick said. He really hoped Carter’s plan would work.
Carter was thrilled when he heard the fight was on. Even Angelo seemed excited—taking lots of notes in his binder, and saying things like, “I wonder if zombies feel pain once their nerve endings begin to wither?”
Nick, who was going to be doing the dirty work in more ways than one, wasn’t nearly as eager. As the clock ticked toward three, his stomach was in knots. He thought most of it was nerves, but some of it must have been hunger, too, because he found himself staring at a boy with an especially large head wondering what his brains might taste like.
As soon as the final bell rang, Nick grabbed his books and raced for the door.
“Good luck,” Carter mouthed as Nick hurried by. Angelo gave him a thumbs-up. Easy for them—they weren’t the ones who were going to be the punching bag for a hormonally supercharged monster if this scheme didn’t work.
The “woods,” as most of the kids at school called them, really weren’t much more than a couple dozen scattered oak and eucalyptus trees. The city kept talking about putting in some picnic tables and turning it into a park. For now, it was just a dusty grove behind the school where almost no one came. The perfect place to go of you didn’t want anyone to see what you were doing. And a pretty good place for a bully to hide in ambush.
As soon he reached the trees, Nick skidded to a stop and searched for Frankenstein. If Frankenstein had arrived first, the plan would be over before it ever started. Fortunately, he seemed to be alone. That wouldn’t last long though; he could already hear the voices of kids shouting and screwing around as they crossed the playground. Cody would be here any minute.
At the far end of the grove was an open ditch where a metal drainage pipe emptied when it rained hard. Nick dropped his backpack at the edge of the ditch. In his pocket was a tube of fake blood Carter had provided. It was the good stuff. The kind they used in movies and upper-end haunted houses.
Nick opened the tube and squeezed a generous amount into his hair—letting it trickle over his forehead and down his face. He quickly scanned the trees, terrified Frankenstein would appear any second. Squatting in the ditch, he emptied the rest of the tube onto the edge of the metal drainage pipe. Dark red trails dripped down the warm metal and splashed into the dirt.
Squeezing out the last of the blood, he felt like someone was watching him. He scanned the trees but no one was there. Then he saw it. The black cat he’d seen earlier that day was sitting at the end of the ditch. A branch cracked and Nick jerked his head around. Someone was coming! Shoving the tube into his pocket, he dropped to the ground. He positioned himself beneath the open pipe so it looked like he had fallen against it and hit his head. A few seconds later, a voice carried through the trees.
“Hey, wuss-s-s-s-s, where are you?”
The sound of Frankenstein’s voice sent chills of terror through Nick’s body. Zombie or not, he did not want to see what Cody would do to a kid who actually dared to challenge him.
“Where are you, you little chicken? Did you run home to your mommy already?” The sound of footsteps came closer, and Nick pressed his eyes shut—willing his body to stay perfectly still when what he really wanted was to jump out of the ditch and run for his life.
The footsteps came so close it sounded like Frankenstein was right on top of him. They were accompanied by a meaty thunking sound that could only be a palm slamming into a fist. Why had he thought this was a good idea?
“Where are you, you little maggot?” The voice came from right above Nick. He cracked open one eye. Cody was standing at the edge of the ditch, so close Nick could have spit on him—if he wanted to spend the rest of his life in a body cast. All Cody had to do was turn around and he would see Nick lying at the bottom of the ditch. Nick hoped Angelo and Carter were waiting to do their part.
“I knew he’d wuss out.” Still facing the other direction, Frankenstein kicked a rock. He started to walk away and Nick wondered if he’d have to groan to get his attention. Then the bully’s head tilted. He leaned down and picked something up. “What’s this?”
At that moment, Carter and Angelo stepped into the woods. Nick couldn’t see them, but he could hear their voices. “Where’s Nick?” Angelo said.
Frankenstein stepped away from the edge of the ditch so Nick couldn’t see him, either. “That’s what I want to know. Your girlfriend said he was going to fight me. He must have chickened out.”
“Then what are you doing with his backpack?” Carter demanded.
Lying in the ditch with his arms and legs spread crookedly and his eyes pressed closed, Nick couldn’t help but grin a little at how believable his friends sounded. This might actually work.
“I found it on the ground, over by the ditch,” Frankenstein said. For the first time since he’d arrived, his voice sounded unsure.
“Found it?” Angelo’s voice said. “Are you sure you didn’t steal it, after you beat him up?”
“I didn’t touch him,” Cody said. “I told you. I found his backpack sitting right there next to the—” The bully’s voice cut off suddenly, and Nick could just imagine him looking into the ditch.
The sound of running footsteps came quickly toward the ditch and stopped. For a moment no one said anything.
“Nick!” Carter yelled. Nick could hear rocks and dirt bounce down the side of the ditch as someone climbed down. Nick lay perfectly still, trying his hardest not to smile. Although he didn’t need to breathe, his lungs were used to inhaling and exhaling and he had to concentrate to keep his chest from moving.
Hands pressed against his chest and touched his neck. “He’s not breathing,” Angelo said. “And he doesn’t have a pulse.”
More rocks and dirt tumbled down as someone else climbed into the ditch. Strong hands closed on Nick’s shoulders and he let his head wobble loosely as the bigger boy shook him. “Open your eyes.”
“What did you do to him?” Carter shouted.
“I didn’t do nothing,” Frankenstein said. “He’s faking.” Nick could feel the bully’s breath on his face as he shook him again. It smelled like tuna fish.
“Get back,” Angelo said. Cody released his shoulders and Angelo pried open one of Nick’s eyes. It was all Nick could do not to laugh at his look of fake horror. “His pupils are fixed.”
“Bull,” Frankenstein said, but he sounded shaken.
“Touch his skin,” Angelo said. He grabbed one of Frankenstein’s hands and pressed it against the side of Nick’s face. “It’s cold.”
The bully’s eyes went wide. Nick bit the inside of his cheek. How dumb did you have to be to believe someone’s skin could go cold after being dead for just a few minutes? But clearly Frankenstein did believe. He jerked his palm away.
Angelo gave Nick a wink before sliding his eyelid closed. “Does anyone know CPR?” he shouted.
Nick knew that both Carter and Angelo knew CPR. They learned it at the pool the summer before. But Frankenstein didn’t know that.
“You murdered him!” Carter screamed.
“I never touched him.” Frankenstein was definitely starting to panic. “I swear.”
“Who’s going to believe that?” Angelo said. “You came here to beat him up—like you do to everyone. We found you holding his backpack. We’ve got to go to the police.”
“The police?” Frankenstein sounded like he was about to bawl. It served him right. How many kids had he made cry over the years?
For a moment no one spoke. Then Carter said quietly, “They might blame us, too. We knew he was going to fight.”
“What should we do?” Frankenstein asked. This was priceless. Nick wished he could be watching it, but he didn’t dare open his eyes.
; “Carter’s right,” Angelo said. “We all knew about the fight. We were all here. Cody would be charged with murder. But we could be charged with conspiracy.” He was silent, and Nick could imagine Frankenstein hanging on his every word. Angelo was sort of a geek when it came right down to it. But he was so smart everyone listened to what he said. “We have no choice. We have to bury the body.”
Someone let out a sob and Nick wasn’t sure whether it was Frankenstein or Carter faking it. “I can’t bury a body,” a shaking voice said. Definitely Frankenstein.
“You have to,” Carter said. “Either that, or we go to the police.”
The only thing Nick could hear was the sound of heavy breathing. Man, he wished he could see what was going on.
“F-f-fine,” Cody stammered. “I’ll do it.” A second later Nick felt a handful of dirt hit him in the face. Some of it went up his nose and it was all he could do to keep from sneezing.
“Faster!” Carter yelled. “We have to finish the job before someone sees us. Use that board to push dirt on him.”
More dirt landed on him. Then more. A rock poked him in the back and he wished he could move around to get a little more comfortable. Soon his entire face was covered. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought his arms were covered as well. He hoped his friends hadn’t forgotten the second part of the plan. It would totally suck to get buried alive.
“Wait!” Angelo yelled. Under the cover of the dirt, Nick smiled, then wished he hadn’t as bits of soil slipped into his mouth.
“What?” Frankenstein’s voice was strangely muffled, and it took Nick a minute to realize why. His ears were full of dirt too.
“I thought I saw him move,” Angelo said.
Nick heard someone squeak and was pretty sure it was Frankenstein.
“He couldn’t have,” the bully said. “You said he was dead.”
“He was,” Angelo said, his voice serious. “But what if the weight of the dirt started his heart up again?” It was the dumbest thing Nick had ever heard. He was positive even someone as dumb as Frankenstein wouldn’t fall for it.
“Someone has to go down and check,” Carter said.
“I… I can’t.” Frankenstein sounded about six, and Nick let out a little laugh before he could force his lips shut. Fortunately no one seemed to have heard.
“You have to make sure he’s dead and finish the job,” Angelo said. “Unless you’re too…scared.”
“Fine.” Nick thought he could hear someone climbing into the ditch. He felt a sudden weight on his chest. “What do I do?” Frankenstein asked, his voice trembling.
“Uncover his face and check to see if he’s breathing,” Angelo called down.
The weight shifted and Nick felt dirt moving around him.
“Put your ear close to his mouth and listen,” Carter said.
Nick opened his eyes, ignoring the grit that slid into them.
“I don’t hear any—”
Nick waited until Frankenstein turned. Frankenstein saw Nick looking at him. His mouth dropped open. His face lost all color.
“Rrr-aaa-aaaa-argh,” Nick growled, doing his best impression of Night of the Living Dead.
He had no idea someone that big could move so fast. And he had never heard anyone scream that loud or that high. Before Nick could even sit up, the bully was into the woods—his screams echoing behind him.
“Sounds like the time my mom found a spider in the toilet,” Carter said as he and Angelo slid into the ditch and helped Nick out of the hole.
“Did you get pictures?’ Nick asked, coughing and trying to comb dirt out of his hair with his fingers.
“Oh, yeah.” Angelo held out his digital camera and peered at the screen. “Screaming like a little girl. And I’m pretty sure that’s not apple juice on the front of his pants. He won’t be bothering us anymore unless he wants these pictures hanging on every wall of the school.”
Carter grinned and slapped Nick on the shoulder. “Mission accomplished.”
Over the next few days Cody Gills was like a ghost of his former tormenting self. Nick and his friends didn’t tell anyone what they had done, but every time they came near, the bully scurried in the other direction—his eyes two dark hockey pucks of fear.
When the last bell rang on Friday, Frankenstein was the first one out of the classroom.
“I actually feel kind of sorry for him,” Angelo said as the boys zipped up their backpacks and started walking to Nick’s house, where they were spending the night. “He knocked the books out of a third grader’s hands yesterday.”
“So what?” Carter crunched a mouthful of peanut-butter-and-jelly-bean sandwich—his favorite after-school, before-dinner meal. “He always does that.”
“Yeah. But this time he apologized and picked them up. And I could swear I saw him flinch when the little kid scowled at him. It’s like he’s scared of everything now.”
Nick knew what Angelo meant. “After all these years I’ve gotten used to Frankenstein being the bad guy. Now that he’s scared of us, it’s almost like we’re the bullies.”
“Who cares?” Carter said. “He’s been scaring kids for years. We should be named school heroes. Next week I think I’ll make him carry my backpack around for me.”
“I don’t know. It feels wrong.” Nick’s stomach gurgled. “Do you have any more of the you-know-what at your house?”
Before Angelo could answer, a voice interrupted them. “All right, you three, spill it.”
Nick turned to find Angie, Tiffany, and Dana standing right behind them. “What do you want?” he asked, wondering how much of the conversation they’d overheard.
Angie Hollingsworth was the smallest of the three girls—a good two inches shorter than Carter—but the clear leader of her group. She shook back her red hair and smirked. “Like you guys had nothing to do with Frankenstein turning into Chickenstein.”
Nick grimaced. He hated to admit it, but Angie was one of the smartest kids in sixth grade. She and Angelo were usually neck and neck for who got the best test scores. That she knew the boys called Cody Gills “Frankenstein” was bad enough. But how could she have already figured out Nick and his friends had something to do with Cody’s change of personality?
“We have no idea what you are talking about,” Angelo said stiffly. He was a great friend and super-smart, but a terrible liar.
Angie tilted her head and held out her hand. “Then you won’t mind me seeing what’s inside that notebook you’ve been scribbling in so much lately?”
Angelo pulled the monster notebook close to his chest.
Carter tried to talk and swallow at the same time and ended up choking on his sandwich. Nick pounded Carter’s back and a slobbery orange jelly bean flew out of his mouth onto the sidewalk.
“That’s disgusting,” Dana Lyon said, wrinkling her nose. Dana was nearly as tall as Angelo, with sandy blond hair and blue eyes. She was a natural athlete who starred in track, volleyball, and softball.
“Not as disgusting as your face.” Carter wiped orange spit off his chin with the back of his hand.
“It’s not like everyone in school doesn’t know you guys did something to Cody,” Tiffany said. Nick thought she might have been looking at him. But behind her giant pink sunglasses, it was impossible to tell. Tiffany Staheli had long dark hair that was always done in the latest style. She was the second-best dresser in school—only slightly behind Kimber Tidwell, a girl so popular she managed to convince all the other kids to call kindergarten Kimber-garden when she was six.
Unfortunately, Tiffany was also in on all the latest school gossip. If she said everyone knew Nick and his friends had something to do with Cody’s change, it was probably true.
“That’s not all,” Angie said, folding her arms across her chest. She stared at Nick as though trying to read his thoughts. “There’s something different about you, Braithwaite.”
Nick realized he hadn’t been breathing and quickly sucked air into his lungs, trying to look more normal.
“Look who’s talking,” Dana said. “If doctors put warning labels on candy, your picture would be on every wrapper. ‘Caution: Sugar may stunt your growth and make your hair look like you used spray paint instead of hair spray.’”
“Hilarious.” Carter bunched his fists, but Nick was pretty sure Dana could take his friend in a fight.
“If you want to know what the deal is with Cody, go ask him,” Nick said.
Tiffany tilted down her sunglasses and looked at Nick over them. “Kimber did. And she says that when she brought up your name he turned white as a Vera Wang wedding gown and wouldn’t say another word.”
Nick had no idea who or what Vera Wang was, but he got the point. “So what if we did have something to do with it? Why do you care? It’s not like anyone’s going to miss having Franken—I mean Cody—beating on them.”
Angie stepped forward until she was so close Nick could smell her strawberry-scented shampoo. “Something about this whole thing stinks. And it’s not just that you smell like you haven’t bathed in a week. First there was that thing at the pool. Then the biggest bully in school is suddenly scared to death of you. And whatever you say, there’s something different about you, ever since you came back from your aunt’s funeral.”
Nick gulped. He knew Angie was smart, but this was way too close to the truth. How did Angie even know that he’d gone to his aunt’s funeral? If she’d figured this much out, he knew it wouldn’t be long until she managed to put the rest of the pieces together. Especially since she and her friends were nearly as crazy about monsters as Nick, Carter, and Angelo were.
Trying to look like he couldn’t care less whether she believed him or not, he opened his mouth. What he meant to say was “You need to get a life of your own and stop spending so much time sticking your nose into mine.” What came out was “Lunchtime shoe wax, fluorescent bra strap. Slippery toe croak peach pit.”
Case File 13 Page 8