Case File 13
Page 17
“About that,” Carter said. “I’m thinking maybe I’ll let the two of you handle talking to Frankenstein by yourselves.”
“There you are,” a girl’s voice called.
Nick turned, expecting to see Isabelle. Instead he saw Angie, Dana, and Tiffany pushing their way through a thick stand of bushes. The three girls were wet and covered with grass and mud stains from head to foot.
“Now we’ve got you,” Dana said.
“And we know what you are.” Tiffany pushed a strand of hair out of her face. Nick had never seen her look so messy.
Carter crinkled his nose. “What happened to you three?”
“What happened?” Dana shouted. “What happened is that we’ve been following you all night. We saw you enter that voodoo shop. We saw you go into the cemetery. And just as we were about to catch up with you it was like the entire graveyard exploded!”
Angelo looked around. “It seems pretty quiet now.”
“Stop pretending.” Angie stomped up to Nick. “It took me a while to put it all together. But we’ve figured it out. Not breathing. Cold and clammy. Cuts not healing. That amulet you wore at the pool. And then I realized what must have happened at dinner. You are a zombie!”
“A what?!” Nick asked, as though that were the nuttiest thing he’d ever heard.
“An undead zombie. And I can prove it.” Angie put a hand on his cheek. “See, your skin is…warm.” She pulled her fingers away, looking at her palm as though she couldn’t believe what she’d felt.
Nick grinned. “I think you three girls need to stop watching so many monster movies.”
“Maybe you should cut back on Halloween candy, too.” Carter chuckled. “In fact, maybe you shouldn’t go out on Halloween at all.”
Angie shook her head. “I was sure.” She looked so disappointed, it was all Nick could do not to tell her the truth, as she and her friends turned and started back toward the cemetery gates.
“Better not go to the football game next Friday night,” Angelo called after them. “I hear the other team’s players are monsters.”
The three girls turned back and glared. “You think you got away with something, Braithwaite,” Angie said, “but I’m watching you.”
“Let’s go.” Nick laughed as he and his friends walked toward their bikes. It had been pretty cool being a zombie. Not as cool as a werewolf or a vampire, maybe. But still cool. He had to admit though, he was glad everything was back to normal.
“Pardon me,” a voice called.
Nick turned to see Alabaster, the fat ghost with the hat, hurrying to catch up with him. Carter and Angelo kept walking as though neither of them had heard or seen anything.
“About that pastrami sandwich,” the ghost said, licking his thick, transparent lips.
Okay, so maybe not completely normal.
A Final Warning
I see you survived, as did Nick and his friends. And yet I have a feeling their case is not even nearly closed. Things are changing in Pleasant Hill, returning to their older—less pleasant—ways. Why, just the other day, I noticed a man digging in the cemetery late at night. I wonder what he could have been looking for?
But that’s a story for another day.
Be careful. Until then, if you notice odd howls coming from the woods nearby, eyes peering from the dark, or strange symbols scrawled on the sidewalk in what you hope is only red paint, it might be best to ignore them. Or my next case file could be about you.
Sincerely,
B. B.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Most people think those of us who dabble in the world of the undead, newly dead, or never lived spend all of our time in creepy, spider-infested cellars, poring over ancient tomes and dissecting bodies. Well, that is perfectly true. However, on the rare occasions when we seek to share our stories with the rest of the world, we must play nicely with others. With that in mind, there are a few…um, creatures, I must thank for the amazing things they did to put this novel in your hands.
First, I must recognize the talent, brilliance, and insight of the Literary Lord of the Night, Michael Bourret. If it wasn’t for his insight and encouragement, this story would still be moldering on my shelves with classics like Bones—They’re Not Just for Breakfast Anymore and Ten Things to Do with Grave Moss. The undead world kneels at your spiked boots, Michael, and I say this not only because I want you to keep sending me gruel.
Those who bring the undead to life often tend to remain in the shadows. However, even bokors need to step out from their vaults at times. His Darkness Andrew Harwell took my scrabbled scribbles and turned them into something I am proud to see the light of day. You are absolutely amazing, and I thank you from the bottom of my nonbeating heart for your vision, imagination, and hard work. An undead could not be luckier than to have you pulling their strings.
In a row of cages beneath my operating table, I keep creatures so foul, smelly, and vile that they are the only things I can entrust to slobber over my words and tell me if they work or not. To these rapaciously reading wretches I give my sincere thanks—and an extra slug at mealtime: Jonathan and Katherine Eden; Zach Staheli; Megan Lyon; Dana Moore; Calvin Condie; Robin, David, Connor, and Brennen Weeks; the Clement family; the Blackhurst family; Mark and Maria Savage; and Dick and Vicki Savage.
Far away from here is a dark and forbidding swamp known as Harpervania, where creatures of the night shamble to and fro at a surprisingly fast pace, completing tasks so vile, so heinous, I barely dare utter their names, lest I find them slavering over my rotting corpse one night. But speak of them I must, for their acts made this book all it could be and more: Sarah Kaufman, whose wicked designs amaze even me, Doug Holgate, whose brilliantly evil drawings bring my words to life; and Barbara Lalicki, who can change the world (for the better) with a wave of her gris-gris pen. To them and all the other dwellers of Harpervania, thank you. I am unworthy of your dark talents.
I truly question whether I should mention this denizen of the darkest portals. Few demons are as dangerous (or rank-smelling). And yet, despite his foul visage and less than optimal hygiene, he has become a great friend and mentor over the years. So thanks, James Dashner.
No true worker of wickedness would be complete without a coven of fellow scribblers. With a word of apology to all the other covens out there, mine is the best. Their writings and works have sustained me for more than a decade, and I would be lost in the Dungeons of Despair without their encouragement and friendship. Give it up for Sarah Eden, Michele Holmes, Annette Lyon, Heather Moore, Lu Ann Staheli, and Robison Wells.
I saved the most important for last. Surely no worker of the evil arts, delving where living beings dare not go, could ever hope to have a family. And yet, somehow, crawling through graveyards, recording the screeches of the terrifying, and notating the life cycle of the unbelievable, I have four minions and a bride of darkness always at my side. Thanks and (un)dying gratitude to Nightshade Nicholas, Jacobas Giganticus, Scott the Devourer, Erica the Evil, and she who commands all, Jennifer the Magnificent. You guys are my life, such as it is.
About the Author
J. SCOTT SAVAGE has been hunting and writing about monsters for as long as he can remeber. His mother believes his first word might have been “lycanthrope,” and the first thing he bought with the money he earned delivering newspapers was a six-foot plastic Frankenstein monster. Currently he lives with his undead wife, Jennifer, his shape-changing sons, Jacob and Nicholas, and a collie named Pepper that howls at full moons and joins him on his frequent midnight graveyard excursions. When he is not researching grisly and gruesome facts, he enjoys reading, writing, and exploring the outdoors. Savage is also the author of the middle-grade fantasy series Farworld. You can visit him online at jscottsavage.blogspot.com or follow him on Twitter@JScottSavage.
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Credits
Jacket art © 2013 by Doug Holgate
Jacke
t design by Sarah Nichole Kaufman
Copyright
CASE FILE 13: ZOMBIE KID
Copyright © 2013 by J. Scott Savage
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
ISBN 978-0-06-213325-0
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13 14 15 16 17 LP/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
EPub Edition © OCTOBER 2012 ISBN: 9780062133281
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