Zombie Dog

by Clare Hutton

  The kitten bunched its legs beneath itself and leaped into the air, landing on Bear’s back. Then it turned in a circle, its little paws kneading at the loose skin on the back of Bear’s neck. Bear held still, then turned his head, trying to see along his own back, and accidentally turned himself all the way around, a baffled expression on his face.

  The kitten lay down and curled itself into a ball, secure on Bear’s broad back. Not a zombie, Becky realized with relief. Just a kitten. Finally, Bear gave up on seeing his own back and flopped down on the ground with a great doggy sigh. He closed his eyes and, by the time they reached Becky’s house, he and the kitten both seemed to have fallen asleep.

  “Is he going to take off if we go inside and leave him asleep out front?” Nate asked. “You know your parents will freak out if he’s wandering the neighborhood again.”

  Becky shrugged. “I think one good thing about everything that’s happened is that Bear will stick closer to home from now on,” she said. “But we’ll sit out on the porch until he wakes up.”

  She ran into the house to get snacks and drinks for everyone, and the five of them stretched out across the swing and benches on the porch, everyone suggesting crazy Halloween decorations and costumes. Bear whuffed peacefully in his sleep and, after a while, the kitten rolled off his back and curled up next to his side instead. Jake and the Kolodny kids — who turned out to be the owners of the new kitten, who’d been out roaming the neighborhood — showed up a few minutes later and hung out with the older kids, stealing cookies and suggesting completely impractical Halloween ideas. Jake added werewolf to his costume list.

  “You can’t be a ninja vampire cat soccer player werewolf,” Becky told him. “Cat and werewolf cancel each other out. Maybe just a vampire ninja soccer player werewolf, and leave off the cat?”

  Jake frowned and shook his head, and Nate laughed, pushing his shaggy hair out of his eyes with the back of his hand. “How about a ninja vampire soccer player werecat?” he asked, and Jake looked pleased.

  On the other side of the fence, Becky could see the boarded-over windows of the McNally house, but they didn’t remind her of eyes anymore. No one was watching her from the empty house now. There wasn’t anything scary over there anymore. She bit into a cookie.

  The zombie dog was gone. Bear was going to be allowed to stay. She’d made a couple of really good friends. And Becky’s new house felt like home again.

  HERE’S A BONE-CHILLING

  SNEAK PEEK AT ANOTHER

  ROTTEN APPLE BOOK!

  MEAN GHOULS

  The ride to Zombie Academy was the longest two hours of Megan’s life.

  When she arrived at the front gate, the first thing she saw was a very cute boy her own age. He had dark skin, thick brown hair, and wore jeans with a white T-shirt and a sweater vest. The glassy look in his eyes might have been a symptom of zombitus, or it might have been that the boy just played a lot of video games. It was impossible for Megan to tell the difference.

  For a moment Megan wondered if she was at the right school.

  “Hi. I’m Sam,” the boy greeted her.

  “Hi.” Megan went to shake his hand but as she touched him, his thumb fell off. It wasn’t bloody or gross. It simply dropped to the dirt like a loose button or a bit of lint.

  “Oh, uh …” She grimaced, glancing between his four-fingered hand and the thumb. She had no clue what she should do. “I’m sorry,” Megan said at last.

  “No problem.” Sam quickly picked his thumb up and blew off the dust. “I lose parts all the time. The nurse sews them back on for me. We’ve tried every kind of thread. Nothing holds very well.” He pulled a small Ziploc baggie out of his pocket and showed Megan his pinky toe. “Might as well get two digits done at the same time.” He put his thumb in the bag and then stuffed it into his pocket.

  Sam thanked the limo driver. Megan hadn’t looked at the man before; she’d only seen the back of his head while he drove. And now she was glad she hadn’t looked. His head was barely attached to his neck. It kept lolling over to one side or the other. One of his eyes was hanging loosely from some kind of oozing stringy stuff. And though she hadn’t noticed it from the backseat, whew, the guy stunk!

  It was impossible to imagine how he’d driven the car safely. If her parents had seen him, they’d never have let Megan in the limo. No wonder he’d kept the tinted windows rolled up and shouted, “Get in!” to Megan. She was glad to have arrived safely and relieved when the limo drove off, leaving her on the sidewalk with Sam.

  While Sam got her suitcase, Megan grabbed her backpack. It was then that Megan finally took a good look around.

  Zombie Academy was straight out of one of Zach’s horror movies: a castle nestled among the trees, with a high fence and a huge iron gate surrounding the complex. Megan wondered if the gate kept healthy people out or the zombie kids in. She didn’t really want to know the answer.

  The castle itself was made of stone. It was pretty, but also a place you’d expect to be haunted. Or infested by the living dead. There was a tower on each side of the gate, and small slit windows. Megan thought she saw some girls peeking out of one of the windows, but when she squinted for a better look, they were gone.

  “Come on,” Sam told Megan. “The outside of the school is kind of spooky, but the inside has been totally redone. A long time ago this millionaire, Lewis Jones, got the zombitus virus and decided to spend all his money looking for a cure. When other people got infected, he invited them to come to his estate. Then, he went around the world to find known zombies and invited them to come here, too. Mr. Jones pays for everything.” Sam added, “Of course, once the researchers find the antidote, the deal is he gets the first shot.”

  “What about the other Zombie Academies?” Megan asked.

  “Yep, he built those, too,” Sam said. “You’ll meet Mr. Jones later. He’s like a grandfather to everyone who lives here.”

  Sam let Megan in through the gate, then locked it behind her.

  She gave him a puzzled look.

  “I’ve been here a long time,” he explained. “I like to help out. When I heard you were coming, I offered to come meet you. There’s no one who knows their way around this place better than me. Except Mr. Jones, of course.” Sam led her into the main part of the castle. “So, Megan Murry, welcome to Zombie Academy.”

  “Whoa.” Megan was amazed. The interior of the building really didn’t match the outside. The halls were filled with beautiful museum-quality paintings and sculptures, modern lighting, leafy tropical plants, and, in the middle of the entry, a glass elevator that led to the higher floors. It reminded Megan of a hotel her family had stayed at on a vacation to Hawaii once. There was even a small waterfall flowing into a koi pond.

  “Come on.” Sam set his four-fingered hand on Megan’s back and led her into the elevator. “Level five is the dormitory. I’ll show you your room. Then you need to check in at the nurse’s office. She’ll give you your class schedule.” He patted his pocket. “We can go together.”

  “The girls in the dorm room next to yours are mean. Really mean.” Sam grimaced as they walked by a purple-painted door decorated with three cutout gold stars. Each star had a name on it: Brooke. Betsy. Brenda.

  “‘Zom-Bs,’” Megan read the big letters printed above the names.

  “My advice,” Sam said, “is to ignore them. Fly under their radar. The Bs are nasty.”

  Megan thought about Brett’s sister, Hailey Hansen, and her gang of mean girls. “Gotcha,” Megan told Sam. “I know girls like that at home.”

  “We all do,” Sam said with a sigh.

  He knocked on a plain brown wooden door. “Home, sweet home.”

  The girl who answered the door wore a black dress with black shoes and tights. Her hair was dyed black. Her eyeliner was black and so was her eye shadow. Even her lipstick was black. She looked like a vampire, not like someone with zombitus.

  “Hey-ya, Happy,” Sam said as if the girl’s appearance was totally nor
mal. “Do any painting today?”

  Happy didn’t seem very happy. She sulked across the room and turned an easel to show Sam a fresh canvas.

  “Finished it,” she said in a voice that sounded like Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh.

  The painting was, well, black. Completely black to the edges of the canvas.

  “Wow!” Sam exclaimed. “That’s one of your best!”

  Happy moaned. “It’s not very good.”

  Sam turned to Megan. “Picasso had his blue stage. Happy’s in a darker phase.”

  “I call this one Midnight,” Happy explained.

  Megan could see how the title fit. “It’s … pretty,” she said.

  “Thanks,” Happy muttered, stepping away from the canvas. She pointed to a twin bed on the other side of the room. “That’s yours. The mattress is lumpy.”

  Megan could have guessed which bed was hers. It had white sheets and yellow covers, whereas the other bed … all black.

  “I’m sure it will be comfortable,” Megan said, trying to stay upbeat.

  “No,” Happy replied. “It won’t.”

  Megan let out a huge sigh. She assured herself everything would be okay. Zach had told her that zombies didn’t sleep much, anyway.

  “Well,” Sam said, “you two can get to know each other later. Megan and I have an appointment with Nurse Karen.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Happy said in a way that made Megan think she didn’t mean it.

  “Yeah,” Megan replied. Happy wasn’t anything like Rachel, but Megan didn’t have any friends at Zombie Academy. She needed to be nice to Happy. Maybe there was a smile hidden under all that dark face paint. “Want to have lunch together?” Megan asked.

  Happy pinched her lips, considering Megan’s invitation. “Okay. But the cafeteria food isn’t like what you’re used to at home.”

  Megan knew about moldy fruit already, but had a pressing question. “We don’t really have to eat brains, do we?”

  “On Mondays they serve last year’s vegetables,” Happy said. “I’ll meet you in the dining room at noon.”

  Spoiled vegetables. That wasn’t too bad. And yet, Megan was left to wonder what was on the menu for Tuesday.

  ROTTEN APPLE BOOKS

  Mean Ghouls by Stacia Deutsch

  Zombie Dog by Clare Hutton

  Clare Hutton is the author of the Poison Apple book Midnight Howl. She lives in Queens, New York, with her husband and their two kids. She loves dogs—but would rather have a naughty Labrador than a zombie Chihuahua.

  Copyright © 2012 by Clare Hutton

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc.

  SCHOLASTIC, ROTTEN APPLE, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  First printing, August 2012

  Cover art by Liz Adams

  Cover design by Yaffa Jaskoll

  e-ISBN: 978-0-545-53231-0

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.