by Luke Sharpe
Wait a minute. I have an idea.
“Johanna, listen to me,” I say. “I’m an inventor too, and I’ve also messed up inventions. I’ve caused some big trouble with my inventions right here at Fillmore. Even for Principal Gilamon.”
Johanna looks right at me. Maybe she’s really listening.
“What if you came to work with me at Sure Things, Inc. as an inventor?” I say. “We can still achieve your dream—only different! You’ll be fast, fair and square.”
Mom and Emily look at me like I’m the one who’s a little crazy. Even Agent Paul swishes a bit in his tank and opens his big octopus eyes really wide.
“Of course, you’d have to UNZOMBIE everyone here first,” I continue. “But if you do, the school will be back to normal, and you’ll be able to use your inventing talent for good. What do you think?”
Mom smiles at me. I think at first she was surprised and a bit confused by my offer, but now I think she’s proud of me for trying to find a good way out of this.
Only, Johanna won’t have any of it.
“I don’t need your pity!” Johanna cries. “I don’t need to work with you—a lousy kid inventor! I just need my REVENGE!”
Mom steps forward.
“In that case, there’s nothing left to do,” she says in a very direct voice. Wow. Mom is a total champ. “Johanna Brown, you are under arrest.”
Mom squeezes the ring from her briefcase and it expands into handcuffs. But before she can put the cuffs on Johanna, the crazed cafeteria lady snatches a piece of the mystery meat off a tray . . . and tosses it into Agent Paul’s tank!
“NO!” Mom shouts.
The water in Agent Paul’s tank starts churning, swirling, and turning green.
“The lunch meat is going to poison the water—this stuff is going to hit Agent Paul really quick,” Mom explains to Emily and me.
“Exactly! Now this octopus will become a zombie!” Johanna cackles wildly. Then she turns and looks at all of us. “In fact, now that you all know about what I have done, you all have to become zombies too!”
Her eyes turn on me.
“Billy Sure, you are next!” Johanna screeches, tossing a piece of mystery meat right at my face!
But before the meat can hit my mouth, Emily jumps in front of me. The lunch meat hits Emily in the face and slides down her cheek, leaving a SLIMY GREEN trail behind. Then it drops to the floor.
“I have to make sure that you don’t become a zombie, Billy!” Emily shouts. “You’re the only one who can invent an antidote to the mystery meat. If you become the last nonzombie kid at Fillmore Middle School, it’ll all be up to you!”
Before I have a chance to thank Emily for putting just a little bit of pressure on me to save everyone, the water in Agent Paul’s tank stops moving! It is now bright green—and so is Agent Paul—oh no, Agent Paul . . .
. . . is now a full-fledged OCTOPUS ZOMBIE! Most likely (though I haven’t done any research on it), the only one in the entire world.
Then with a powerful push, Agent Paul’s big green head pops out of the water. Since he’s a zombie, he no longer needs to be in the tank. He can attack at will!
“Behold, the ZOMBOCTOPUS!” Johanna cries.
If this were a movie, the person in charge of sound effects would have programmed lightning to hit at that exact moment. But this is not a movie—and that’s what makes this all the more terrifying.
I can’t tell if Johanna is proud of her Zomboctopus creation or a little surprised that her mystery meat worked on Agent Paul. I’m going to guess both.
Agent Paul drops to the ground with a loud green SPLAT! He stands in front of me, Mom, and Emily. Wow—I never noticed before. Agent Paul is taller than Mom! Wait a minute . . . is zombie Paul getting BIGGER?
Mom steps right up to him.
“Paul!” she yells. “We’re partners! You can’t do this! We’re on a serious mission! You need to get back into your tank.”
But Agent Paul keeps coming, slithering right at us. We back up slowly. I turn around, looking for a way out. It’s no use. Our backs are now against the wall. We’re trapped!
One of Agent Paul’s tentacles reaches out to grab me.
This is the end! I think, swallowed whole by a Zomboctopus!
Blam!
From out of nowhere, a loaf of bread comes sailing through the air! And it’s not just any old loaf of bread; it’s an institutional-sized MEGALOAF with about two hundred slices in it! The bread smashes right into Agent Paul, taking him by surprise and making him lose his balance. He tumbles right to the floor.
“Go! Run!” shouts a voice from across the kitchen. “Get out—now!”
I look across the room and see the first woman we spoke with—the one with the green makeup, who was only pretending to be a zombie and who warned us about Johanna.
We don’t need to be told twice. Mom, Emily, and I dash from the kitchen and cut back through the cafeteria. We push past crowds of zombie students and race as fast as we can out of the building.
When we are several blocks away, we finally stop running.
“THAT WAS HORRIBLE!” I cry, trying to catch my breath. “Poor Agent Paul. I hope he’ll be okay. Em, did you get all that recorded? We need to go speak with Kathy about getting this story published as quickly as possible, so everyone knows what’s going on at Fillmore. She knows everything going on locally—she must think something is up. We have to warn people. Meanwhile, I’ll get working on an antidote. Sound good? Em?”
Emily says nothing.
“EM?” I ask again, glancing over at her.
Mom looks up too.
That’s when we see it. No!
Emily’s face is all green! When she jumped in front of me, some of the mystery meat must have gotten into her mouth when it hit her face!
Mom sees what’s going on and instantly springs into action. She grabs Emily’s phone, which is still recording, and hands it to me.
“I think it’s time we all go to HQ and work on putting an end to this,” she says, a little too calmly.
Huh. I guess when you’ve spent your career saving the world from terrible disasters, a few zombies—even when one happens to be an octopus and another is your daughter—don’t faze you.
Mom and I hurry to the office. When we’ve gotten a few blocks from the school I look around but don’t see Emily.
“I think we lost Emily, Mom,” I say.
She stops and looks back, and we see Emily several blocks away, walking toward us in that strange slow, stiff-legged zombie walk.
“What do we do, Mom?” I ask. I don’t want to leave Emily on her own—who knows where she might wander off to—but I need to start working on an antidote as soon as I can.
Before Mom can reply, Emily shouts, “Luuuunch meeeeeat!”
Mom shakes her head.
“There’s nothing we can do for her here, Billy,” she says. She sounds calm, but I realize now that she’s pretty nervous—I never knew I got my anxious twitchy leg thing from her. “The only thing to do is get to HQ as fast as possible and get working on a cure.”
A few minutes later Mom and I arrive at HQ. We walk through the front door and see Manny sitting at his desk. He stares blankly at us. Ewww. Is that a POOL OF DROOL on his chin?!
“Hello, Manny,” says Mom.
“Gurruggh,” Manny groans.
“Well, that’s not very polite,” Mom laughs.
At least she’s managed to have a sense of humor in this!
“You’d better get to work,” Mom tells me. “You can do it, honey.”
I text Jada and Nat to give them an update, but I don’t hear back. Great. Just when I need to talk to them, Kevin is probably hogging all of Jada’s attention. Then I settle in at my workbench. I know Mom’s words are encouraging, but honestly, this might be the MOST NERVOUS I’ve ever been for an invention. Even more than when we had to save Agent Paul during my time at Spy Academy. The fate of almost everyone I know is at stake!
I work f
or an hour or so, mixing in lots of different random ingredients. Most of them are really yummy things like chocolate-sprinkle cupcakes. Because if you asked me what’s the opposite of ooey-gooey mysterious lunch meat, it’s definitely chocolate-sprinkle cupcakes.
But is it going to work?!
Zombie Zap
THERE’S ONLY ONE WAY TO find out if this antidote works. I have to test it.
I put the antidote into a spray bottle, like we used for the INVISIBILITY SPRAY. Then I hold it up next to a sample of the mysterious lunch meat (after stepping outside HQ to keep my zombie partner from smelling it) and spritz it on.
Chhhh!
Strangely, the spray doesn’t look like a liquid, which is what I expected. It looks more like green crazy string! It wraps and coils itself around the nasty lunch meat.
A few seconds later the string turns white and then vanishes. The lunch meat looks normal again. Okay, it may be a little old and a little dry . . . but not a hint of green anywhere!
This is a good sign. But now that I’ve tested it on the lunch meat, I’ve got to test it on an ACTUAL ZOMBIE.
“Good luck,” I whisper to myself.
I slip back into the office carrying the antidote in one hand and the piece of unzombied meat in the other. Manny doesn’t seem to notice that I—or, more importantly, the meat—have returned.
“How’d you do?” Mom asks. She stares intently at her smartphone. I wonder if her other spy colleagues know about this outbreak.
I hold up the piece of soppy lunch meat and explain that although I’m not sure, I think it worked.
“That’s great, Billy!” Mom says. “Why don’t you try it on Emily first? She’s been a zombie for less time than Manny. It might be easier to change her back.”
Well, a parent’s permission to use the antidote on her daughter is as good as any. Mom dashes off to find Emily and brings her to HQ quick. I walk over to my workbench, where Mom sat her down, and realize Emily looks kind of like a broken paper doll. There’s drool on her chin too. If I weren’t so afraid for her, I’d take a picture and post this on InstaInstaChat. She may be a zombie, but she’s still my annoying older sister!
“Okay, here goes,” I say.
Mom gives me a thumbs up.
I spray some of my invention onto Emily’s arm, and the green crazy string wraps itself gently around her wrist. A few seconds later, the string turns white, then vanishes, showing that Emily’s arm now looks normal too!
“So far, so good!” I say. Then I spray my invention—I’m going to call it ZOMBIE ZAP—all over Emily, until she is covered from head to toe in green string!
The string turns white and disappears. Just as I’m wondering if this is going to work, Emily blinks open her eyes! She looks directly at Mom and at me.
“I’M FREE!!” Emily shrieks. “Billy, you did it! You invented the antidote! Now we can save the whole school. We can cure them of the effects of the zombie lunch meat . . .” Emily pauses, like she’s suddenly remembered something very important. Then her body slumps. The drool returns.
“Luuuunch meeeeeat!”
Emily’s skin bubbles and turns back to a sickly green. It seems like as quickly as she was healed, she’s turned back into a zombie again.
“Well, I usually don’t get my inventions right on the first try,” I say. “On to prototype number two. Now I have to find a way to make the Zombie Zap permanent.”
Mom nods. She goes back to typing on her smartphone.
I return to my workbench and start tweaking the Zombie Zap. I’ve honestly never felt pressure quite like this before. I’ve got to save everyone—my friends, my business partner, my mom’s partner, my teachers and principal, and, of course, my older sister!
I barely notice as someone enters the back door of the office.
“Billy, look who’s here,” Mom says.
Mom must have invited someone super smart. But who?
I turn around.
Standing in my office is KATHY JENKINS!
Kathy Jenkins?! The Right Next Door reporter? Emily’s Journalism teacher, Kathy Jenkins?
I’m stunned! And a little nervous. What’s Kathy doing over here? The last thing I need right now is another mean article about Sure Things, Inc.
Kathy waltzes in like she is queen of Sure Things, Inc. HQ. She doesn’t even bother to say hello. Or knock. But what’s weird . . . she looks visibly upset. I’ve never seen Kathy upset before. Usually, she loves drama—drama makes for better stories. So, what could possibly be going on to make Kathy Jenkins upset?!
“Billy, it’s my daughter,” Kathy says, matter-of-fact. “Samantha is . . . well, she’s just not herself lately. It’s like there’s something majorly wrong with her. I tried interviewing her to find out, but . . .”
Hmm. Now I feel kind of bad for Samantha. I can’t imagine growing up and feeling like you’re on an interview all the time.
Interview? That’s when I notice that Kathy doesn’t have her trusty notepad with her. Like Emily’s new thing, Kathy carries that notepad everywhere. It’s where she records her stories. She must really be upset. Usually Kathy scribbles away on it constantly!
“I posted in the Parent-Teacher group on the school website, and some of the others kids’ parents are concerned too,” Kathy says, showing me a website on her smartphone. “I did some research and it seems that there may be something wrong with the new director of Cafeteria Services at Fillmore. Then your mom found me on the group and invited me out here. Do you know anything about this?” she finishes.
“Well, there’s definitely something wrong with the director,” I say, pulling out Emily’s phone. “And here’s the proof.”
I play back the recording we made at the school, which tells the entire story, most of it right from Johanna’s own lips. Kathy’s eyes open wide. We aren’t even close to the end of the recording when it all clicks for her.
“JOHANNA . . . BROWN,” she says, like she’s remembering something from twenty years ago. Oh yeah—because she probably is! “Johanna Brown wants revenge—and she wants it on all of Fillmore Middle School! I always thought she was a little strange, even back when I knew her as a student. But I never thought she would do something like this. We have to stop her!”
“I may be close to being able to do that,” I say. “I just invented an antidote called Zombie Zap. If I can get it to work permanently, we can cure everyone and take down Johanna.”
“Thank you, Billy,” says Kathy. She looks . . . almost like she’s about to cry? “I know Samantha would be thanking you too, if she weren’t—”
“Urghhh,” Manny drawls.
“What he said.” She shrugs her shoulders.
Mom stands up and gives Kathy a hug.
“We’re going to get through this,” she says. “In the meantime, Kathy, we have to focus on putting all of our unique talents to the test. Why don’t you start on an article, exposing Johanna for what she’s done? You can use Emily’s audio clip.”
Kathy nods.
“That’s an excellent idea,” she says, pocketing Emily’s phone. “I’ll get to work.”
Mom leads Kathy out of HQ. When Mom comes back, she’s still scrolling through the parent group comments on the website.
“A lot of parents are concerned. I’m worried about Mr. and Dr. Reyes. I need to talk to them about what’s going on,” says Mom. “You keep working, Billy—we’ll put a stop to this before it’s a NATIONAL EPIDEMIC.”
Mom heads into the Reyes’ house. I turn back to my workbench and pull a few more things out of the drawers and bins.
“A few drops of purple ink, some ground-up seaweed, and four green gummy bears,” I say, adding each thing to the formula. As I wait for the new ingredients to blend with the original formula, Mom returns.
“I spoke with Dr. Reyes,” Mom says, looking over at Manny. He continues to mindlessly stare at his computer screen. “She thanked me for filling her in on what’s going on. She told me that Manny has spent days in the off
ice before, but this time they knew something was really wrong.”
“Urrrgh!” comes a cry from the far corner of the office.
I look over and see Emily stumbling around the office, back in her zombie trance. “Hurrrr,” she moans.
Manny looks around and adds “Urgghh, gruurr!” It’s almost like they’re having a weird zombie conversation.
I don’t know about you, but I’m kinda glad Philo isn’t here right now. I can’t help but think he’d be barking along!
“Billy, I think I need to take Emily home,” Mom says.
“Actually, I think working in my bedroom for now might be best,” I say, gathering up everything I need. “That way I don’t have to listen to Manny groan.”
Back at home a short while later, I feel my eyes start to close. I can’t believe how late it is. Dad brings me a snack, POACHED EGGS WITH PEANUT BUTTER, which actually isn’t half bad—or maybe I’m so tired I don’t even notice the taste.
This whole zombie thing has been exhausting, to say the least. I haven’t slept well in days. My head drifts down to the surface of the workbench . . . slowly . . . and I fall into a dream.
“Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!”
I blink open my eyes. Philo has leaped onto my bed and is now licking my face.
“Boy, what are you doing—” I start to say, trying to push him off, when I look outside. The sun is out! I must have slept the whole night, and I didn’t even work on the Zombie Zap.
Oh no. What kind of inventor am I?!
Wait a minute.
That is exactly what kind of inventor I am! I sleep-invent! It’s one of the things that makes Billy Sure so “sure” about inventing. I leap out of bed excitedly and check my desk for blueprints.
SURE ENOUGH, there are completed blueprints for the Zombie Zap on my desk!!
I sit down and look over the blueprints. They make perfect sense. I can’t believe I didn’t see what I needed to fix the antidote before.
