It Spells Z-O-M-B-I-E!

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It Spells Z-O-M-B-I-E! Page 2

by P. J. Night


  Emily’s treat bag slipped from her shaking fingers. As it fell onto the porch, dozens of pieces of candy exploded out of it. She felt the creature’s grip loosen from the surprise. It was the perfect diversion; Emily wrenched her hand away and took off running—across the porch, down the steps, along the path, until she reached the sidewalk. And then she ran even faster, not even paying attention to the street names. She wasn’t entirely sure where she was when she finally paused to catch her breath.

  The trick-or-treaters had all gone home. The streets were almost completely deserted now, but the clouds had parted enough so that Emily could read the street signs by the light of the moon. She was standing at the corner of Evergreen and Poplar, wracking her brain about which direction would lead her back home, when she heard someone calling her name.

  “Emily! Emily!”

  “Wait!”

  A hot wave of embarrassment washed over Emily as she recognized her friends’ voices. What would her friends think of her now? She had never imagined she would panic like that at the Randolph house. But then again, she’d never imagined that they would have done a zombie theme. Zombie. Even thinking the word made her shudder. Emily’s wrist tingled, as if she could still feel that cold, clammy hand grasping her skin . . .

  “Emily! Hey! Are you okay?”

  At the sound of Abby’s voice, Emily braced herself for whatever expression might be on her friend’s face. Would Abby start laughing at her? Or worse—regret befriending a giant baby?

  But when Emily looked at Abby, she saw only concern.

  “I—” Emily began.

  “It’s okay,” Abby said. “You’re safe.”

  Emily felt the back of her neck get hot. She forced herself to smile like everything was okay. “I know,” she said. “It’s just—I have a thing about zombies. Sorry for flipping out. That was so not cool.”

  “Please,” Abby said. “It’s fine. We were worried about you.”

  Just then Nora and Leah ran up to them. “Em! Are you okay?” Leah asked.

  “Sorry,” Emily repeated. “I really didn’t mean to panic like that. I just hate zombies. Like, hate them.”

  “Well, obviously,” Leah said, raising her eyebrows in a way that made everyone laugh—even Emily.

  “I know you know this,” Abby began, “but there’s no such thing as zombies. I promise. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “I know,” Emily replied, nodding in agreement. Rationally, she did know that. But there was something about zombies that chilled her to the core, filling her with intense and agonizing fear.

  “Dead is dead,” added Leah. “I mean, on the very face of it, the idea of zombies is ridiculous. People who can still get up and move? There’s just no way.”

  “Thanks for trying to make me feel better,” Emily said. “I know you guys are right. Of course you are. It’s just zombies have always scared me. And that one at the Randolph house . . .”

  “What?” Nora asked as Emily’s voice trailed off.

  “Its hand was so . . .” Emily searched for the right words. “Dead-feeling.”

  She got even more flustered as her friends giggled. “I mean, it was like cold and damp and horrible,” Emily tried to explain.

  “We told you the Randolphs think of everything,” Abby reminded her. “I bet that was why it took a couple minutes for them to answer the door.”

  “Yeah, Mrs. Randolph probably had her hand in a bowl of ice water,” Leah suggested.

  That made perfect sense—and made Emily feel even sillier. “Oh,” she replied. “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Trust us,” Abby said firmly. “The Randolphs are pros. They spend, like, months planning for Halloween night. And they really do think of everything.”

  “I should’ve remembered that,” Emily said sheepishly. “You did try to warn me.”

  “Em, is this yours?” Nora asked suddenly as she held out something silver and shiny.

  “Oh! My tiara!” Emily exclaimed. “It must’ve fallen off while I ran down the street like a lunatic. I couldn’t exactly be an alien queen without my tiara, could I?”

  “Yeah, and if you were just a regular alien, then we definitely couldn’t be friends with you anymore,” Leah said. Emily joined in her laughter. After all, she was sure that Leah was just joking.

  Pretty sure, anyway.

  “We tried to save your candy, too,” Nora spoke up. “Though if I’m being totally honest, I may have stolen one of your chocolate bars.”

  “I can’t blame you,” Emily joked. “Really, it’s the least I can do.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Abby said, looking intently at Emily.

  “Positive,” Emily said firmly.

  Abby stared at Emily for a moment longer, as though she wasn’t quite sure. Then she said, “Okay. Let’s go back to my house. It’s time to get this sleepover party started!”

  To Emily’s relief, she’d run in the direction of Abby’s house; the girls were only about two blocks away. Mrs. Miller was just pulling her witch’s cauldron through the front door as the girls approached.

  “Right on time!” she called out with a wave. “Did you have fun?”

  “We had an amazing time!” Abby replied.

  “Probably the best Halloween ever,” Leah added.

  “Great!” Mrs. Miller said. “How about you, Emily? How was your first Halloween in Riverdale?”

  Emily gave her friends a sidelong glance. “Let’s just say I was scared silly,” she joked—making everyone else laugh. It was easy to laugh now, with the lights shining so cheerfully from Abby’s house, Chester wagging his tail in the doorway, and Mrs. Miller’s warm smile beaming at the girls from the front steps. The Randolph house and that clammy hand seemed miles and miles away.

  Emily followed her friends back down to the Millers’ basement. “What do you want to do now?” Abby asked the other girls. “Game or movie?”

  “Game, game, game, game!” Leah chanted.

  “Okay, okay,” Abby said, laughing as she held up her hands. “Game it is.”

  “Truth or dare?” Leah asked hopefully.

  “Oh no,” Abby said, shaking her head vehemently. “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not?” Emily asked curiously.

  Abby and Leah exchanged a look. “Let’s just say it’s a long story,” Abby finally replied. “I’ll tell you another time. But I have a much better game for us to play tonight.”

  “What could be better than truth or dare?” Leah asked, sounding genuinely baffled.

  “The spirit board!” Abby announced in a spooky voice. She reached under the coffee table and took out a battered-looking box. Emily could tell right away that it was old—very old. The wooden box was scarred with deep grooves and scratches; its hinges were tarnished; and Emily couldn’t be quite sure, but it looked like one whole side of the box was blackened and scorched, as if someone had tried to burn it in a fire.

  “Okay, I’m officially intrigued,” Leah announced as she moved closer.

  “The spirit board isn’t just fun—it’s spooky,” Abby told her friends. “It’s been in my family for a few generations. Apparently my great-great-grandfather made it, and it worked so well that he became afraid of it . . . and even tried to destroy it . . . but the board survived everything he tried, from being burned in a fire to chopped with an ax.”

  Nora raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Really?” she asked.

  “Who knows?” Abby said with a shrug. “It’s a family legend. And, I mean, it certainly looks like the spirit board has seen better days.”

  “How do you play?” Leah asked, growing more eager by the minute.

  It took Abby a moment to unhook the rusted clasp, but at last, she was able to open the box to reveal the spirit board. All the girls leaned closer as Abby eased the splintery lid off the box. Emily wasn’t sure what was inside—but she couldn’t wait to find out.

  At first, though, the spirit board seemed supremely disappointing. It was a si
mple wooden board, not much thicker than a piece of plywood, with every letter of the alphabet burned onto its surface. The more interesting part, though, was a separate, flat, heart-shaped piece of wood with a small window cut out of it.

  “What’s that?” Emily asked.

  “It’s the planchette,” Abby explained. “You put it on the board and everyone gently puts their hands on it—just your fingertips, not too much pressure—yes, that’s it!”

  “What is it?” Nora asked in confusion as the other girls rested their hands on the planchette.

  “The way it works is that spirits can answer our questions by using our hands to move the planchette around—one letter at a time,” Abby told her friends.

  “You mean, we get possessed?” Emily asked. That didn’t sound very fun to her.

  “No, no, nothing like that,” Abby assured her. “It’s more like when our energy is on the planchette, the spirits can make it move. I think.”

  “But couldn’t we just move it and pretend it was a spirit?” Leah asked. She pushed the planchette and sent it flying across the board.

  “Well, yeah—but what would be the point?” asked Abby. “Besides, I would never do that.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Emily quickly chimed in.

  “Neither would I,” Nora added.

  All the girls turned to Leah.

  “Of course I wouldn’t fake it,” Leah said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Come on. You guys know me better than that.”

  “Plus, you can always tell when somebody’s moving the planchette,” Abby said wisely. “It feels completely different when a spirit moves it.”

  A chill of anticipation crawled over Emily’s skin. She inched closer to the spirit board, and the other girls did the same.

  “So . . . what should we ask first?” Nora said.

  A tiny smile flitted across Abby’s face. “Can I go?” she asked.

  “Do it!” Leah said.

  Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Will Jake Chilson and I start officially going out soon?” she asked, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

  Leah started to squeal, but Abby put a fast stop to that.

  “Seriously, don’t,” she whispered. “We don’t want to scare away the spirits!”

  Leah nodded without making another sound.

  The four girls sat on the basement floor, the tips of their fingers just touching the planchette, for what felt like an eternity. Emily tried to focus, but after a couple minutes her mind started to wander. Everyone knew that Abby and Jake had been crushing on each other for a while now. Emily didn’t exactly know what the holdup was . . . and she didn’t feel like she knew Abby well enough to ask. She didn’t blame Abby for wondering when she and Jake would officially be a couple, though. Emily would’ve been tempted to ask the spirit board the same question if she liked anyone at Riverdale Middle School.

  Then, without warning, the planchette began to move.

  Emily tensed up immediately as it inched across the board. All the girls bent their heads close together as they peered through the window on the planchette, waiting for it to spell out an answer to Abby’s question. But the planchette slid aimlessly across the board, never once spelling a recognizable word—or even pausing on a letter.

  At last, Abby sighed. “Guess the spirits don’t want to tell me,” she finally said. “But the good news is . . . we’re not alone! Who’s next?”

  “I have a question,” Leah said. “Spirits, will I pass my spelling test on Monday . . . even if I don’t study?”

  That seemed like a quick and easy no way! to Emily, but she waited patiently with the others for the planchette to move. When it finally did, though, it still didn’t offer any answers. The planchette’s slow, uncertain circling of the board was not very informative.

  “We must not be asking the right questions,” Abby said. “The spirits don’t want to answer them.”

  “Want to watch a movie instead?” Leah asked, sounding bored.

  “Wait—I have a question,” Emily spoke up. “Spirits, what will I be when I grow up?”

  The second the words were out of her mouth, the planchette lurched forward. Emily sat up a little straighter. Something had changed; the air in the room seemed charged, almost—and the planchette was zooming across the board with clear purpose, moving so quickly that it was hard at first to keep track of the letters it stopped on.

  “Guys! Are you getting this?” Nora whispered.

  “That was an I—” Abby said eagerly.

  “And an E!” Emily added. Movie star? she wondered in excitement. But the planchette zipped right past the letter S to the letter Z.

  “What’s it trying to spell?” Leah asked, perplexed.

  The planchette skidded over to O.

  Then M.

  Then B.

  Then I.

  And then E.

  Z.

  O.

  M.

  B.

  I.

  E.

  “It spells ‘zombie’!” Abby suddenly cried. The planchette ricocheted back to the letter Z, spelling the word “zombie” over and over again.

  Emily yanked her hands off the planchette as if it had burned her fingers. Even without her hands on it, the planchette kept swinging between the letters Z-O-M-B-I-E.

  “Stop!” Emily said, her voice higher than usual. “Stop it!”

  The other girls pulled their hands away from the planchette too. It immediately stopped and stayed at rest on the board, almost is if it were waiting for the girls to resume the game.

  “I can’t believe you’d do that,” Emily said, her eyes flashing with anger. “I told you guys I’m terrified of zombies. What, did you think that would be funny?”

  “Emily, I swear, that was not us,” Abby said right away. “I promise I would never do that.”

  “Me neither,” Nora said.

  “I wouldn’t either,” Leah assured her. “I like a good joke, but that would just be mean.”

  Emily didn’t answer.

  “Look, we saw how scared you were about Mrs. Randolph’s zombie costume,” Leah continued. “Making a joke of your fear wouldn’t be funny. I promise, we’re not like that. We’re your friends.”

  “Then, how do you explain what just happened?” Emily finally asked.

  “I can’t,” Abby said with a shrug. “Maybe it was our subconscious. Maybe we had zombies on the brain . . . no pun intended.”

  “But you all just said that you didn’t make the planchette move,” Emily said.

  “We didn’t—not on purpose, anyway,” Abby said.

  “Maybe our spirit is a prankster,” Nora suggested. “And he—she—it—thought it would be funny? I don’t know.”

  “And we probably never will,” Abby said. “But Leah’s right. And this game is dumb. It wasn’t even answering our questions. Let’s—”

  Ding-dong! The doorbell rang.

  The girls froze.

  “Is somebody else coming over?” Leah asked Abby.

  Abby shook her head. “You guys are the only ones I invited,” she said. Then she glanced at the clock. “It’s nine forty-five. That’s kind of late for trick-or-treaters.”

  “Unless they’ve come for the trick part,” Nora said. “Abby! What if your whole yard has been TP’d or something?”

  “You think?” Abby asked, her eyes wide.

  “I have a better idea,” Leah said loudly. “What if it’s Jake?”

  This time, not even Abby could stop the other girls from squealing.

  “It is so not Jake,” Abby said with a big sigh.

  But Emily noticed that Abby jumped right up to see.

  “I’m coming too!” Leah announced.

  “Let’s all go,” Emily said. She was just as curious as the other girls—and she did not want to be left alone in the basement with the spirit board and its sinister planchette. She couldn’t understand how it had spelled “zombie” again and again unless one of her new friends was behind it
. She sized them up out of the corner of her eye, then shook her head. Emily just couldn’t believe that any of them would be so cruel as to play such a mean prank on her. Not after the way she’d panicked at the Randolph house.

  By then, the other girls had clambered up the stairs; Emily had to hurry to catch up. She found them clustered behind the front door, giggling loudly while Abby desperately tried to shush them.

  “Stop!” Abby hissed. “If it is him—”

  “Open the door! Open the door!” Leah cried, forgetting to whisper.

  Ding-dong!

  Abby’s eyes lit up when the doorbell rang again. She didn’t even bother to check the peephole before flinging the door open wide.

  Emily could tell right away that the shadowy figure hunched on the doorstep wasn’t Jake. It stared at her—her heart kicked like a frightened rabbit—with vacant, yellowed eyes. The grayish skin, the oozing wounds—

  The zombie had come.

  Had come for her.

  Emily stumbled backward as she bolted for the basement, slamming the door loudly behind her. She sprinted down the steps and jumped into her sleeping bag. She didn’t want to face whatever was up there. Whatever they had just let in.

  Then the door at the top of the stairs creaked open. Emily stared up with wildness in her eyes. If it was the zombie—if he’d followed her—

  But it was Abby. Just Abby. Emily tried to take a deep breath, but her lungs were too tight.

  “Em!” Abby exclaimed as she hurried down the stairs with Nora and Leah right behind her. “It was just a late trick-or-treater. I promise, there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “No,” Emily said, shaking her head frantically. “You’re wrong. I mean, what are the odds? First the Randolph house—then the spirit board—and now this? They’re everywhere, Abby, everywhere, and they’re coming for me!”

  Even as she said the words, Emily wished she could take them back. She meant every single one of them, though she could hear how, well, ridiculous it must sound to her friends. And sure enough, she saw the glances they exchanged. Her face grew hot with embarrassment.

 

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