“Zombie,” he whispered.
“Quite so,” agreed Tempus. “It seems that if we don’t go to the enemy, the enemy will come to us.”
“Maybe it’s coincidence, maybe they’re looking for something else,” said Ivy.
“Not likely,” said Vester. “We’re being hunted.” He pulled out his marble, the red Imbued Object that had transported them from Powers Island to the Russian volcano. Tempus eyed the marble with clear distrust.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” asked the Gray Power.
Outside the class, the zombie had stopped. It was turning slowly right and left, as though trying to smell something.
“Those great greasy eyes,” whispered Tempus in disgust.
“What about—” started Billy in a normal voice, but he was cut off by Tempus, Ivy, and Vester all “shush”ing him instantly. “Sorry,” Billy whispered, embarrassed. Then, in a quiet whisper, he said, “What about the eyes?”
“Zombies all have them,” whispered Vester, the fireman’s eyes intently tracking the zombie’s progress as it wondered to and fro. “They can see more than most people, and their night vision is amazing.”
“Don’t try to play hide and seek in the dark with a zombie,” contributed Tempus. “Not that I’ve tried,” he said almost apologetically.
“Why do they have the eyes at all?” asked Billy. They were all talking quietly, but he noticed not a one of his friends was moving in the slightest. Apparently zombies could see better than they heard, though it was clear that no one wanted to talk more loudly than they had to, just in case. Knowing about the zombies’ vision was a good fact to have, and Billy filed it away in his mind for quick access should he need it later.
“No one knows exactly why their eyes are so big,” whispered the motionless Ivy. “But they all have them. It’s as though when the Death Power takes over a dead body, it gives them those eyes to remind everyone that Death is, ultimately, everywhere.”
That gave Billy a horrible thought. “You said that zombies are made out of the bodies of dead Powers. What would happen,” he gulped quietly, “if someone made a zombie out of a live Power.”
All three of his friends grew even more still, if that were possible. “No one has ever managed to do that,” said Vester.
“Not that a few people haven’t tried,” added Tempus. Ivy shuddered.
Outside, the zombie was still moving back and forth, but then finally seemed to decide that whatever it was looking for wasn’t there. It shuffled away, and soon was gone from the limited view afforded by the classroom’s frosted windows.
Billy and his three friends all visibly relaxed.
“What was that thing doing here?” Billy asked.
“Well, I would guess that either it realized the value of a quality education,” began Vester, “or it’s looking for you.”
Billy felt that chill that was rapidly growing to be an all-too familiar part of his life. He shivered.
“Now, Vester,” scolded Ivy. “There’s no use scaring him.”
Vester turned on Ivy. “Yes, there is. He’s got to know, from now on, what’s happening and what he’s up against.”
“But we don’t know what we’re up against,” said Ivy.
“Then we have to give him worst-case scenarios until everything is clear,” said Vester. Ivy started to say something, but Vester spoke right over her. “The last time this happened, the last time Wolfen started a war, do you know why he got as far as he did?” Without waiting for an answer, Vester continued. “It wasn’t because he was the strongest, or the smartest. It was because so many of us insisted that nothing was wrong, that nothing was happening, that the things happening to our friends and…”—he choked up, unable to continue for a moment—“And families…. That the things happening to them weren’t really happening, or weren’t as bad as they seemed.”
He pointed a finger out the window, where the zombie had been. “So if that zombie is here, then it’s here for Billy, or for Mrs. Russet’s frog, or for some equally evil purpose. And fooling ourselves is just going to get us killed, or worse.”
Billy couldn’t think of much that would be worse than getting killed, but he got Vester’s point. And the point seemed to make sense. It was certain that some kind of attack had been launched, and that the zombies were a big part of it. So to pretend that a zombie was just a random event seemed foolhardy in the extreme.
“If it’s looking for me,” asked Billy, “then why didn’t it look in this room?”
“What?” asked Ivy, looking relieved to be on another topic of conversation.
“Why not come in here?” asked Billy. “If it’s at my school, looking for me, wouldn’t it have instructions to look in rooms where I might be?”
“Probably not,” said Tempus. “Zombies, thankfully, are fairly stupid creatures. They do quite well with certain directed tasks, but don’t do well with improvisation. So if one is told to rip out your liver and eat it, for example, he will. But he’s not likely to eat your intestines, or your brain. Just exactly what he’s told.”
“The zombie’s going to eat my liver?” asked Billy, horrified.
“No, no,” said Ivy placatingly, sending a look at Tempus that was sharp enough to cut diamonds. She patted Billy. “Tempus just means that, if it’s looking for you, the only information the zombie probably has is what you look like. Not much more can be fit into what’s left of its mind. So it will stay in a defined area—the school, for instance—and keep an eye out for you. But it won’t be thorough, and it won’t improvise. Just basic tasks.” She squeezed him reassuringly. “Which is a huge plus, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” said Billy dully. “It’s good to know that the living dead aren’t Ph.D. candidates, as well. Because that would be rotten.”
Ivy either didn’t catch or just ignored his terrified sarcasm, because she grinned brightly and said, “See? Things are looking up already!”
“Shh!” hissed Vester. They all quieted instantly, as another form shuffled past the classroom windows. It was clearly a zombie, and just as clearly a different one than the monster that had walked by earlier: it was shorter and fatter, and its eyes—even through the glass—were visibly larger.
“How many of those things are out there?” whispered Billy.
Tempus said, “Probably just those two, maybe one or two more. The Darksiders are committed to the idea of enslaving humanity, but they’re not going to risk revealing their existence prematurely just to find you. Armies of the undead marching on the world’s largest cities will come later, not now.”
Again, Billy did not feel particularly heartened by this news.
The second zombie passed by. As soon as it was gone, Vester turned to Billy, Ivy, and Tempus. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to get going.”
He pulled out his marble, the Object he’d used to Transport them to the volcano earlier.
“No way!” objected Tempus. “I told you, no more trips with amateur keys!”
“C’mon, Tempus, we made it, didn’t we?” said Vester indignantly. Ivy closed her eyes in resignation. Billy could see that these two men, though best of friends, were like an old married couple that couldn’t help but fight over everything.
“Yes, we made it,” Tempus replied. “If by ‘made it’ you mean ‘almost died in agony.’”
“You’re being melodramatic,” said Vester. “As usual.”
“Yes, I agree,” snarled Tempus. “But melodrama is appropriate when contemplating the ridiculous, and thinking I’ll ever let you Transport me anywhere ever again is just that: ridiculous!”
“Hey, hey!” said Billy. He was surprised that he managed to half-shout at the two older men. They, too, were surprised, as he could see by the looks on their faces. He grew suddenly bashful, almost ashamed of himself for daring such impertinence. “Sorry,” he managed. “Just, couldn’t we argue about this stuff somewhere else? Somewhere without the undead around every corner?”
“Quite s
ensible sounding,” said Ivy. She glared at Tempus and Vester. “In fact, it’s sensible enough that you and I should do it whether they do or not, Billy.” She held his hand, then walked toward the door. She put her hand on the door handle, then Ivy looked once more at the Red and Gray Powers. “I have a key of my own, and it can get us all to Powers Island just fine. So Billy and I are going, just as Lumilla told us to. If you care to come with us, fine. But,” she finished, the strength and immovability of a redwood tree creeping into her normally willowy voice, “leave the silly arguments behind. There’s enough to be worried about without worrying that you two will bicker me to death.”
Tempus and Vester looked embarrassed and contrite. Billy already knew that the peace wouldn’t last, but he hoped his two friends could get along long enough for all of them to find safety.
Ivy turned the knob, and Billy and his friends skulked out of the room. They walked hurriedly along the halls, each of the four adventurers looking in as many directions at once as possible, keeping an eye out for zombies, hall monitors, and any other horrors that might lurk in a high school.
“Where are we going?” Billy asked Ivy as they went. “Why can’t we just use the key and go now, from here?”
“My key doesn’t work inside buildings,” she said. “Where’s the closest door out?”
Billy pointed in the direction they were going. “Straight ahead, down some stairs, and there’s a door leading out right at the bottom.” He looked at his watch. “We better hurry, though. It’s only about five minutes until class ends, and there are going to be about two thousand students running around in the halls at that point.”
Ivy stepped up the pace. But the group hadn’t gone more than a couple feet when Billy heard his name being called.
“Billy? Billy!” It was Blythe, who had just turned a nearby corner and spotted them. She ran up to them, holding a hall pass in one hand and a half-devoured candy bar in the other.
Billy froze in place. He looked around. No zombies. He didn’t know what to do. If he stopped to talk, then he and his friends might be caught. If he walked away, then even worse things might happen: like Blythe never talking to him again.
The beautiful girl was next to them in an instant. “Hey,” she said. She took two massive bites of her candy bar, making it disappear as though by magic. Billy wondered if there was a special Power that could control calories. If there was, then Blythe was definitely one of those.
“So I was going to be mad at you for ditching me earlier” she said, throwing the candy wrapper into a nearby trash can, “but then I decided not to be. Anger is bad for the complexion. But I do want an explanation.”
She seemed to notice the rest of the group for the first time. Billy’s spirit sank through the floor. How could he explain this strange menagerie he was wandering around the halls of school with?
Luckily, Blythe provided an explanation for him. She leaned in conspiratorially to Billy. “You know, even though we’re allowed to bring our families in costume this year, I hear most students don’t do that. And they definitely wait until after classes are over.”
“Whah?” Billy managed to say.
Blythe frowned. She pointed over his shoulder. “You know, the dance.”
Billy looked at what she was pointing at. There was a sign that said “Halloween Bash—Family and Friends Welcome—Awards for Best Costumes” hanging over the hallway.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” he said. “This, uh,” he stuttered, pointing at his friends.
“We’re his cousins,” said Vester. He stepped up and held out his hand for Blythe to shake. “And he invited us to the Halloween—uh—thing.”
“So what are you?” asked Blythe.
“Well, I’m a fireman,” said Vester.
“Where’s your outfit?” shot back the girl.
Vester frowned. “I’m a fireman on his day off.”
Blythe frowned too, then apparently decided to accept that. “And you two?” she asked Ivy and Tempus.
“I’m the Happy Green Giant,” said Ivy, “You know, like the one that sells peas and green beans on the commercials? And this,” she said, pointing at Tempus, who looked like the entire conversation had passed well over his head some time ago, “is Uncle Buck. He’s dressed like a tourist. Who is color-blind. And has just come out of a coma. And—”
“Hey!” said Tempus indignantly, apparently just catching up at this moment to what was going on. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
“Nothing,” answered Blythe, apparently completely mistaking the question. “You totally look like an ex-coma patient color-blind tourist. I mean, it’s not what I would have guessed just looking, but now that I know what the costume is supposed to be, I think you hit it dead-on. Let the judges know at the dance. You’re a shoo-in for some award.” She looked back at Billy, taking another candy bar from her backpack and starting to eat it in bites that would have made a great white shark envious. “So,” she said, suddenly uncharacteristically bashful, “I guess that means you’ll be at the dance?”
“Uh, yeah. Definitely,” said Billy. He had never been to a dance before, but then, no one had ever cared about whether Billy went to one or not, so missing them had been easy.
Am I just dreaming? he thought. Or did Blythe just sort of ask me to the dance?
“Cool,” said Blythe, and Billy thought she was blushing a little. “Like I said, I was going to be mad at you, but I figured that anyone who can give Cameron a bloody nose deserves at least one free pass.”
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” said Ivy in a too-bright voice before grabbing Billy’s hand in a vise-like grip. “Now, where did you say that thing was that you wanted to show us, cousin Billy?”
Billy allowed his three friends to drag him away from Blythe, then shrugged their hands off and hurried back to her, even as she began to turn away. “Blythe!” he shouted.
She turned around. And, as usual, any sense of what he had wanted to say went right out the window. “Yeah?” she said. He noted that she had finished off the second candy bar and now had a licorice whip in her hands.
She must have the metabolism of a hummingbird with ADD, he thought.
“Uh, about Cameron,” he said.
“What about that dirt-bag?” asked Blythe. The way she called Cameron a dirt-bag made Billy’s heart start knocking even harder in his chest. She was perfect, he thought.
He didn’t say that, however. What he said was, “Have you seen him around?”
Blythe frowned. “No. Not today. Why?”
Billy shrugged. In truth, he had suspected as much. He was positive that Cameron Black was a Darksider, following in the footsteps of his mother and the strange Power named Wolfen. So it was no surprise that he wasn’t here today. He was probably with the other Darksiders, helping to plan the next horror that would be visited on the world of the Powers.
“No reason,” answered Billy. Then, over Blythe’s shoulder, he saw something. A figure moved into the hall. A lurching, stumbling figure with gray-green skin and two huge eyes. To Billy’s horror, the creature immediately spotted him, and behind him, Ivy, Tempus, and Vester.
“RUN!” shouted Ivy.
Billy didn’t think. He just grabbed Blythe’s hand in his.
“Hey,” she began, “what’s the big ide—?” But Billy jerked her forward before Blythe could finish her indignant question. He pulled her with him toward his three friends, and they ran for all they were worth.
“What’s going on?” asked Blythe. “What the heck is going on, Billy Jones?”
“Later!” he managed. He threw a glance behind him. The zombie had been joined by another one, both of them running leadenly behind Billy and his friends. As he watched, a third zombie, then a fourth, and a fifth, all converged until they were running in a shuffling, greasy group through the halls.
“EEK!” he heard, and looked ahead again just in time to see that Harold and Sarah—who had apparently just been cowering in the corridor after their stormy run-
in with Tempus—had just stepped unwittingly into the path of the onrushing Powers.
Ivy, Vester, and Tempus managed to avoid running the junior members of the Torture Brigade over. Billy didn’t have as much luck, however. He didn’t completely barrel into Harold Crane, but he felt his elbow crack into the bigger boy’s ribs as he dodged by. “Sorry!” he shouted without thinking.
Harold screamed like he’d been shot with a gun that was loaded with hornets and piranhas, then dropped to the ground, holding his head in his arms like he was expecting the roof to collapse. Sarah, meanwhile, looked like she was doing her best to actually chew through the wall to get away from Billy and his friends.
“What’s with them?” wheezed Blythe, still being pulled along by the strength of Billy’s desperate grip.
“Probably had too much caffeine in their energy drinks or something,” Billy said lamely. He risked another glimpse back. The team of undead ran right over Harold, leaving the would-be bully sprawled unconscious behind them.
Billy couldn’t help but grin. His grin disappeared, though, when he remembered what Tempus had said: it was possible that some zombies’ touch could kill. Even Harold Crane, the punk-haired bully, didn’t deserve that.
Billy had no time to dwell on it, though. Up ahead, Vester had disappeared around a corner, which Billy knew led to the stairway he had told Ivy about. Just a few feet, down the stairs, through a door, and they’d be outside.
“Billy, what’s going on?” asked Blythe. She had managed to keep a grip on her licorice whip, and took a bite even as they ran. She appeared quite fine with the idea of running, and Billy’s heart thudded a little harder when he noticed that she was still holding his hand as they ran. But how was he supposed to answer her question?
“It’s complicated,” he finally said. It wasn’t a good answer, but it was all he could come up with. And it seemed to satisfy Blythe, because she didn’t ask again. Either that, or she just had too much licorice in her mouth to speak right now.
Billy turned the corner that his friends had gone around, and was surprised to see that Tempus was standing there. “Go,” said the old man, gesturing for Billy to continue down the stairs.
Billy: Messenger of Powers Page 25
