by P. J. Night
Forty feet—
Thirty—
“AHHHHHHHHHH!” Emily screamed suddenly.
She wasn’t alone in the backyard after all.
Zombie Jake lunged at her from behind the oak tree!
“No!” Emily yelled, and the strength and power in her voice surprised even her. Zombie Jake paused, blinked—his pupils started to enlarge—
Then, like a yo-yo snapping back into place they contracted again, and he lunged for her once more.
But Emily was lucky. Emily’s brain was still working, and able to coordinate all her muscles so that she could run and climb and escape, in that order. Soon she was over the fence. Soon she was racing down the abandoned path in the nature preserve. Soon she was climbing another fence, and soon she was in her house, with the heavy door bolted behind her. Then, at last, Emily was in her own room on the second floor, dragging her desk in front of it. It wasn’t as secure as she would’ve liked.
But it was the best she could do.
Emily blinked as she looked around her room. It looked so ordinary, exactly the way she’d left it that morning. How was that even possible? The blankets were scrunched up on her unmade bed. Her pajamas were in a crumpled heap on the floor. And yet in just the span of a little more than a school day, everything—everything—had changed.
What am I going to do? Emily wondered. The words repeated through her mind, again and again.
Then she spotted the note cards—the ones from her half-finished history project. They were strewn across her desk, and though the history project was the last thing on Emily’s mind, the note cards gave her a good idea.
Research, she thought, grimly determined. Wasn’t that what her history teacher, Mrs. Chu, always said? It starts with research! Emily would’ve laughed out loud if things hadn’t felt so desperate. But maybe if she learned more about zombies—maybe if she learned more about this terrible app—then she could figure out how to fight back.
Emily flipped open her laptop and started scouring the Internet for information. To her surprise, all her searches for Z Curse turned up empty. This makes no sense, she thought. I know the app exists. I’ve seen it!
Was it possible that the entire Internet had been scrubbed? That there wasn’t any evidence that the Z Curse app had ever existed? Her friends had all been able to find and download it.
So why couldn’t Emily?
Unless . . . she thought slowly . . . unless enough people have downloaded it that the creators took it down. They don’t need the app to turn people into zombies anymore. There are enough zombies to do it.
Emily immediately pushed the thought out of her mind. It was too terrible to dwell on, even for a second. She decided to do some research on zombies instead and clicked on the first link that appeared.
ZOMBIES: Real or Not?
The modern world’s preoccupation with zombies, or the reanimation of the dead, is a relatively recent phenomenon. Many explanations have been proposed for the phenomenon, from contagious disease to hypnosis to sorcery. Experts agree that the zombie phenomenon is nothing more than a popular myth. But if that’s the case, how can we explain why it endures—or how it began?
The fear inspired by zombies is very real. They lack the ability to reason or feel compassion. Reduced to their basest instincts, zombies are concerned with only one thing: creating more zombies. This can be done through a variety of methods, including scratching and biting. Theoretically, higher-level eye-to-eye hypnosis has the potential for creating more zombies as well.
Perhaps the least-well known—yet most intriguing—element of zombie legend is the story of their so-called king, Zyl. When a person becomes a zombie, it is widely accepted that the cognitive, or thought process, of the brain is destroyed, or at least severely incapacitated. However, when Zyl changed into a zombie, this did not occur. For reasons unknown, Zyl’s brain functions at full capacity, even though his heart has not beat in centuries. It is this factor that makes him more dangerous than any other zombie in legend.
A memory flashed through Emily’s mind: the opening sequence of the Z Curse app. That sneering zombie head, crowned with a golden ring.
Could the zombie king, with his unusual intellect, be the force behind Z Curse? And if so, who was he? And how could she stop him?
Emily knew what she had to do.
She didn’t want to do it—she dreaded doing it—and yet she knew, as surely as she knew anything at all, that it was the only way.
Emily stared at herself in the mirror over her dresser for a long, unblinking moment. Her unusually pale face, her hair, still speckled with silver spray—those were things she didn’t even notice. It was the change in her eyes that grabbed her attention: They were steady, determined, ready for anything.
First, though, she had to figure out how to play the game. It seemed wrong to call Z Curse a game when it had become a matter of life or death—or perhaps undeath—but Emily didn’t have time to dwell on the details. She couldn’t download Z Curse onto her phone anymore; that much was obvious. There really was no trace of it on the Internet.
But that didn’t mean Emily couldn’t figure out a way to play it. All she had to do was find a phone that still had the app on it. But—and this was the most important part—Z Curse seemed to freeze the phone as soon as someone lost. Remembering Veronica’s unresponsive phone, Emily realized that it was going to be a little trickier than she thought.
I need the phone of someone who downloaded the app, but never got a chance to actually play, Emily mused. But who would that be?
Surely someone in Riverdale hadn’t played the app yet. But how could Emily find them?
One thing was obvious: She wasn’t getting anywhere by pacing back and forth in her room. No, as much as it terrified her, it was clear to Emily that she had to get out there—out into the world, where the zombies were roaming freely—if her plan had any chance of success.
School, she thought suddenly with a flash of inspiration. There were so many clubs after school—Spanish club and band and cheerleading and drama and track and football. Abby looked at her phone. It felt like a lot of time had passed since she and Abby had left school, but it wasn’t that late. There had to be tons of students still there. And, with all their extracurriculars, those kids probably hadn’t even had a chance to play Z Curse—let alone lose.
Emily reached for her coat, shoved her phone in her pocket, and dragged the desk away from her door.
It was now or never.
She hurried down the stairs, peered through the peephole, and then cautiously stepped outside. The world was oddly quiet. Where were the cars driving down the street? The people walking their dogs? The kids playing in their yards while their moms watched from the front porch?
Emily shook her head and continued on toward Riverdale Middle School. There would be time later, she hoped, to figure out all the strange and puzzling things that were happening today. But not now.
Now, she was on a mission.
Emily ran the whole way to school. Powered by adrenaline, she didn’t even feel out of breath when she arrived a few minutes later. The late buses had arrived and were idling by the curb, with billows of black smoke pouring out of their tailpipes. A strange, sinking feeling overcame Emily. It took her a minute to understand exactly why she felt so apprehensive.
Then she understood.
The late buses left at four o’clock every day—right on time.
And—she paused to check the time on her phone, though she really didn’t need to—it was already 3:58. Where were the bus drivers, chatting on the sidewalk while they waited for the kids to clamber on board? Where were the lines of students pushing, shoving, and joking as they boarded the buses?
Where was everyone?
Run away, a small, strong voice inside Emily said, but she didn’t listen.
She couldn’t. Instead, Emily pressed forward.
The music room, she thought. Nora was the best junior pianist in the whole state, and she often took
double lessons when an important recital or competition was coming up. Emily could only hope that today was one of those days. When Nora sat down at the piano, she was completely engrossed. It was entirely possible she was still playing, oblivious to the zombies that had been unleashed at Riverdale Middle School.
With wary steps, Emily approached the entrance. She could tell right away that her school had been the scene of something terrible. Lockers were half open, their doors hanging askew. The floor was littered with textbooks and pencils and loose sheets of paper that fluttered from the breeze that rushed into the hall when Emily opened the door. On the wall, someone had written RUN in large, red letters. The paint, still wet, was dripping onto the floor into a spreading pool.
It must have been pandemonium when lots of kids started playing Z Curse after school, Emily thought as she made her way down the hall. Complete chaos. And total terror.
But where were they? Where had they all gone?
There were abandoned backpacks scattered through the hall, so Emily did a fast search of each one, just in case somebody had left a cell phone. She wasn’t surprised, though, when no phones turned up. She would have to keep searching.
Emily continued to creep through the hallways until she reached the music room. It was in even worse shape than the hallway. Stands and chairs had been overturned; smashed violins littered the floor; and shredded sheet music was everywhere.
What happened here? she wondered.
Emily was painfully aware that the music room was deathly silent—but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. The two practice rooms were sound-proofed. It was still entirely possible that Nora was practicing in one of them.
With one fearful glance behind her, Emily approached Practice Room 1. “Nora?” she called as loudly as she dared. “Are you in there?”
When no one answer, Emily knocked. Then she slowly opened the door. The hinges creaked so loudly that she jumped.
But the practice room was as deserted as the rest of the school appeared to be.
Emily approached Practice Room 2 next. She was feeling more and more discouraged. Whatever had happened at Riverdale Middle School, it seemed like no one was left to even tell her about it.
“Nora?” she called again. And then she opened the door.
At first glance, Practice Room 2 appeared empty too. There certainly wasn’t anyone playing the piano. Nora’s long gone, like everyone else, Emily thought. She’d have to come up with a new plan.
Then she noticed Nora’s backpack was still on the chair.
And her phone was still on top of the piano.
“Yes!” Emily started to cheer—but the word was cut off, because two things happened at the same time.
Emily noticed the words—
YOU LOSE!
YOU LOSE!
YOU LOSE!
—were flashing on the screen.
And Nora lunged at her from under the piano!
Emily screamed, flailing her arms at gray-faced Nora. One of Emily’s nails must have caught the side of Nora’s face because a long, jagged scratch appeared on her cheek. It didn’t bleed, though, and that was when Emily realized that if she didn’t get out of there immediately, she’d be doomed too.
Emily darted out of the room, kicking the toppled music stands behind her in a desperate, last-ditch attempt to block Nora from following her. As she raced down the deserted hallways, Emily was grateful that everyone else was gone. The emptiness of Riverdale Middle School didn’t just make her escape easier. It made it possible.
Emily didn’t stop running until she was a few blocks away. Then, with her hands on her knees, she bent over to catch her breath. Phone, she thought. I still have to get a phone. One with Z Curse already downloaded but not played.
But how?
Emily racked her brain, searching for any possible option. Abby’s phone was out. Veronica’s phone, Leah’s phone, Max’s phone, Jake’s phone—
Jake’s phone.
Emily gasped. How had she missed it? Of course—Jake’s phone! If Emily’s suspicions were right and Max had actually turned Jake into a zombie, and if Jake had never even gotten the chance to play Z Curse, then his phone would have the app loaded and ready to go—and all Emily would have to do now is just play it.
Emily had to find Jake. And she had a funny feeling that wouldn’t be hard to do.
The sun was still shining as Emily ran back home—no, not back home. To Abby’s house. Because the last place Emily had seen Jake was in Abby’s backyard.
Sure enough, Jake was still there. He was standing very still on the back stoop, his face pressed against the glass as he stared intently into Abby’s house. Does he know she’s still inside? Emily wondered. Can he hear her banging against the basement door?
Emily felt a pang of pity as she stood there watching Zombie Jake waiting, patiently, for Zombie Abby. He wouldn’t abandon her, not for anything. Under ordinary circumstances, Emily could only imagine how thrilled Abby would’ve been to know, once and for all, that Jake really liked her.
But these circumstances were anything but ordinary.
Jake shifted a little, and Emily saw it—the glint of his phone as the sun reflected off it. It was shoved in his jacket pocket. For the first time that day, a thrill of hope spiraled inside her. Maybe she could sneak up behind him and slip it out of his pocket without him even noticing.
Maybe.
Emily crept forward, glancing down before every step to make sure she wouldn’t stomp on dried leaves or fallen sticks that would crunch underfoot. Most of the zombies she’d observed seemed really out of it—slow, thick-headed—but she didn’t want to risk Jake hearing her. She’d seen how fast Zombie Abby was able to move toward Emily once she knew where she was.
Five steps to go.
Four.
Three.
Two.
Emily’s hand was trembling slightly as she reached forward slowly, slowly, s-l-o-w-l-y, for Jake’s phone. She had almost grasped it when—
Maybe Zombie Jake heard her after all.
Or maybe he just sensed her.
Either way, he turned around and stared at her with those red, fathomless eyes.
Emily locked eyes with him for half a second and saw . . .
Nothing. There was nothing there.
His eyes were like those of a corpse.
A tingling feeling started at her temples and crept toward her eyes.
She whipped her head back so fast that her neck ached. It was worth it, though, to escape the threat of hypnosis. Just because Zombie Jake’s eyes looked dead didn’t mean they were powerless.
Emily took a big step backward, watching Jake cautiously out of the corner of her eye. Go back to Abby. Go back to Abby, she urged him with her mind.
But it was no use. He’d noticed Emily now, and had forgotten—at least for the moment—about Abby.
As Jake stumbled toward her, Emily’s mind raced. Every instinct told her to run away, but she refused. Not until she had his phone. But how could she get it now?
Only one idea came to mind.
Emily took a deep breath and ran toward Jake as fast as she could. He wasn’t expecting it. Then Emily faked him out and started running in the opposite direction. Jake tried to turn as quickly as Emily had but he stumbled, and fell to the ground.
“I’m sorry,” she said—and she meant it—as she darted forward and plucked the phone from his pocket.
Zombie Jake didn’t move.
A cold fear overcame Emily. Oh no, she thought. Is he hurt?
Was it even possible to hurt a zombie?
Emily watched in silence, barely daring to breathe as Jake just lay there, motionless. She crept closer—Emily wasn’t sure why—it’s not like she could do anything, He was already a zombie—
But how could she just leave him there?
“Jake?” she said. “Are you—”
She didn’t even have a chance to finish her sentence before Zombie Jake opened his eyes and reached for her
. He was so fast that Emily didn’t have time to jump back. His hands were tangled in her hair!
Emily screamed and leaped backward. Her head hurt where strands of hair had been pulled out by the force of her leap. She caught a quick glance at Jake as he started to get up, her hair tangled in his cold fingers. Then she turned the other way and bolted through the yard, over the fence, and back to the safety of her own home. It was a small comfort to know that Zombie Jake was okay—as okay as possible, all things considered. It wasn’t until Emily was inside again, with all the doors locked, that she felt like she could spare a moment to breathe.
Jake’s phone was clutched in her hand so tightly that it had left marks on her fingers. Her whole hand was cramping. Emily rubbed it as she stared at the screen. The app was right there, blinking, like it was taunting her. There wasn’t a moment to lose.
Emily mustered all her courage as she tapped the screen. The phone vibrated in her hands as the app loaded.
Z CURSE
WE’RE WAITING FOR YOU!
The red letters on the screen seemed to glisten. Every once in a while, they would drip what looked like drops of blood. It made Emily’s stomach clench, even though she knew it was just a digital graphic. You’re going to have to be tougher than that for what’s coming next, she scolded herself.
Emily tapped the screen. When the whirling red-and-black circle appeared, she was ready—and wise enough to look away.
The spiral dissolved, revealing Emily’s ordinary living room—with the exception of a zombie lunging at her from the corner! With lightning-quick reflexes, Emily jabbed the screen, punching a hole in the virtual zombie’s stomach. It collapsed, flickered, faded into nothingness.
Then the spiral was back for a second or two. Emily averted her eyes again.
When it cleared, Emily saw another virtual zombie perched over the fireplace. As it lunged through the air toward her, she smacked at the screen. It exploded into millions of tiny pieces, like zombie confetti. It was more satisfying to destroy these digital zombies than Emily ever could have anticipated.
