App of the Living Dead

by App of the Living Dead (retail) (epub)

  “A terrible flu is going through town,” I said. “You should probably head home and sleep it off.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” she said dreamily. Then she teetered off.

  “Well done,” Marcus said, as we started walking again. “You’ve really got this zombie curing thing down.”

  “I’m definitely not as nervous as I was with my first one.” I gave him a look and he laughed.

  “Was I a scary zombie?” he asked. “I wish I could have seen myself.”

  “Yeah, you were pretty terrifying. You were all like . . .” I opened my jaw wide and made groaning and growling noises.

  Marcus laughed so hard he had to cover his mouth. “You’re right, that is horrifying.”

  “Hey, if it weren’t for me, you’d still be like that.”

  “I still can’t believe it.” He shook his head in amazement. “You went into that hallway without even knowing if the cure would work. I could have bitten you. You are so astonishingly brave.”

  There I went again, blushing so hard I was probably as red as a lobster. I could feel it in my cheeks.

  Marcus put a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, maybe later today we could head to the school to cure whoever is there. And you can see that game I made that I wanted to show you before our town became zombie town.”

  I chuckled. “Yeah, sure.” That game was really important to him. Even while all of this was happening.

  We were almost to the library doors when a groan came from behind the large oak tree on the front lawn.

  “One up ahead,” I said, grabbing for my phone.

  “Can I do this one?” Marcus asked. “I downloaded the game back at the house, but I need to get some experience.”

  “Sure.” I motioned with my hand for him to move in front of me.

  A boy came lumbering down the grass toward the sidewalk, wheezing like he was ninety and not nine. He wore pajamas with planets on them and no shoes.

  “Poor kid,” Marcus said.

  “You know what to do, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Aim for the head.”

  Marcus held up his phone and swiped. The first couple tries went completely off, but he got the hang of it after that. The red light arced in the air, hitting the boy in the arm. He momentarily staggered but kept coming toward us, a line of drool slipping from his open mouth.

  I gripped my phone tighter, ready to provide backup if necessary. But Marcus got a direct hit with his next throw.

  The little boy blinked slowly and rubbed his eyes. “Why am I outside the library in my pajamas?”

  I figured I’d go with the truth. An adult might not believe me, but a kid would. Kids’ minds are still open.

  “You played a lot of Zombie Town, right?” I asked.

  He looked at me suspiciously. “Yeah.”

  “Everyone who played the game turned into a zombie. But we can cure them by using the game.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Playing the game cures real zombies?”

  “Yeah,” Marcus said. “Hey, buddy, you’re going to start to feel real tired soon.”

  The boy nodded his head sluggishly. “I do.”

  “Do you live close?” Marcus asked.

  He pointed toward a nearby side street. “Right there.”

  Good. He’d make it, no problem. “Go home,” I ordered. “If your parents are zombies, use the game. Toss cures at them just like you do with fake zombies. Aim for their heads. Then take a long nap. Everything will be fine.”

  The boy’s lower lip curled down in fear. “How do you know everything will be okay?”

  Marcus placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and smiled. “Because the Gamer Squad is on the case.”

  Reassured, the little boy smiled sleepily and nodded. Then he headed off toward his house.

  “Think they’ll all be that easy?” Marcus asked.

  I look up at the brick arch above the entrance to the library. “Not a chance.”

  The front door to the library was unlocked, so we pushed it open and tiptoed inside.

  “You think Mrs. Dorsey is here?” Marcus whispered.

  I nodded. “She played the game, so she must have the sickness. She tends to come in early, even before opening hours, because different groups meet in the event room.”

  I pointed to the bulletin board on the wall, which showed all the groups that held their meetings in the event room downstairs—from sewing circles to book clubs, Scrabble tournaments to the Teen Advisory Board. From the looks of the note on the wall, the Teen Advisory Board was supposed to meet yesterday before school to vote on next month’s movie night selection.

  Marcus said, “She probably came in even though she wasn’t feeling well, to unlock to the doors. And then . . .” his voice trailed off.

  My favorite librarian was somewhere in this building, and she was a zombie.

  The library was quiet—even more so than usual—which was good. We didn’t need to deal with zombie Mrs. Dorsey and a whole bunch of zombie patrons.

  We moved past the eerily empty checkout desk. The bank of computer terminals sometimes had a waiting line but now they were all empty, their screensavers swirling.

  A shuffling sound from the stacks caught my attention. Marcus and I looked at each other.

  “The Mystery aisle?” he suggested.

  “I think it’s closer.” I pointed. “Sci-Fi.”

  We edged toward that aisle, peeking around stacks of books. The grunting noises got louder as we neared Sci-Fi. We stopped right before the aisle’s opening. My heart sped up. I pulled out my phone. My finger trembled as I held it above the screen, waiting to swipe.

  Marcus readied his phone as well. He looked at me and I mouthed, “Now!”

  We jumped into the row, startling Mrs. Dorsey, who was indeed a zombie. Her head was flopped to the side, and that face I’d always found so warm and welcoming was now slack and terrifying. Her gray eyes flared as she lurched toward us.

  Marcus and I stood shoulder to shoulder—well, not quite because he was so tall—but we took up the whole row. We swiped, quickly and efficiently, tossing cures at Mrs. Dorsey as she got closer and angrier. One arc of red light hit her arm and she lashed out, knocking a pile of books from the shelf to the ground. A zombie horror novel fell on my feet.

  Fitting.

  We launched again and again until finally one of our shots was a direct hit.

  Mrs. Dorsey stopped moving, a stunned expression on her face. She gazed at us, recognition dawning. “Bex? What just happened? I feel like I have a hole in my memory.”

  “You were a zombie,” Marcus said, matter-of-factly.

  She swayed on her feet, from shock, the illness, or a combination of both. I knew that the extreme fatigue was hitting her hard, and we only had a few minutes before she’d be asleep.

  “The new game, Zombie Town, turned all the players into actual zombies,” I explained. “And when they bite others, they turn as well.”

  She gasped, her hand fluttering to her mouth.

  I continued, “You’re going to get very tired and sleep, possibly for a long time. But when you wake up, you have to help us fight. The game caused this, but the game can fix it. You toss the cures, same as always. Try to cure people you know who are good at the game, so they can help us, too. Aim for the head.”

  “We’re building a gamer army,” Marcus said.

  Mrs. Dorsey nodded quickly. “My whole book club played. I’ll cure them as soon as I can.” Her eyes rolled back and then refocused. “But first . . . I need a nap.”

  We helped her to the floor. I found a sweatshirt in the lost and found and put that under her head as a pillow.

  “She’ll be safe here,” I said. “But I’d like her to have her phone nearby when she wakes up.”

  “Is it downstairs in her office? In a purse or something?” Marcus asked.

  I nodded. “Most likely. Let’s go look.”

  We trotted downstairs and checked the office. Sure enough, a big, black leather
handbag sat on the floor behind a desk. I opened the zipper and pulled out her phone. “Got it.”

  We left the office and closed the door behind us. “After we bring this upstairs, where do you want to go next?” I asked.

  A loud bang came from the door to the event room. Almost like it was in response to my voice.

  Marcus reached out and tried to turn the knob. “It’s not locked.”

  “That means a human could open it.”

  The bang came again, louder, like someone slammed themselves against the door.

  “Sounds like your typical confused zombie,” Marcus said. “Should we cure it?”

  I shrugged. “Why not? We’re on a roll.”

  I readied my phone and nodded to Marcus, who was gripping the door knob. He turned it and pulled opened the door. But we were wrong.

  Someone wasn’t at the door. It was a zombie horde.

  I recognized my friend Isaac and a few other kids from school. Some had been players, some had been bitten. But two things were clear: yesterday morning’s Teen Advisory Board meeting had been an actual nightmare, and Marcus and I were in over our heads.

  Marcus tried to shut the door, but the zombies rushed at the opening, pushing him. I moved backward until the heel of my shoe hit the wall. Isaac lunged at Marcus, and he reeled back, falling to the floor. I swiped as fast as I could, trying to cure the zombies in front of me so I could get to him. I couldn’t watch Marcus be bitten again!

  Four zombies leaned over him, teeth chomping.

  Marcus rolled between their feet. Confused, two bent-over zombies bonked heads. While they growled at each other, Marcus ran back into the event room and quickly climbed on top of a table.

  “Join me!” he shouted.

  Marcus threw some cures as cover while I ran to him. The zombies tried their best to dodge and fight the arcs of red light. I scrambled up the table and faced the dwindling horde. Two girls and one boy had already been cured and were swaying on their feet, confused by the scene in front of them.

  Three more zombies heaved toward us, arms raised in front of them. Even though the table gave us some height, they’d still be able to reach our legs. Marcus and I swiped repeatedly, but the zombies were staggering left and right. It would be helpful for aiming purposes if they didn’t walk like, well, zombies.

  My heart pumped wildly in my chest the closer they got. I went to swipe up again and the phone slipped out of my sweaty hand.

  “No!” I screamed, while I watched it fall to the floor below as if it were happening in slow motion.

  Marcus stayed focused, taking out two more zombies. Only one remained—my friend Isaac. He reached the edge of the table and clasped his hand hard around my ankle. He pulled and I pulled back—it was like the worst game of tug of war I’d ever played. Up on the table, I had nothing to hold on to. I was going to lose my balance.

  Just in time, Marcus lodged a direct hit, and Isaac froze in place.

  He looked down at his hand, still gripping my ankle, then pulled it back. “What? Why?”

  The other kids behind him were also in various states of shock, rubbing their foreheads and muttering to themselves.

  “Time to recruit our army,” I said to Marcus. “You want to give the speech?”

  Marcus gave a rousing speech to the library’s Teen Advisory Board. They agreed to our plan and seemed ready to help us save the town—after a giant group nap, that is. I picked up my phone—unbroken from the fall, thank goodness—then slipped Mrs. Dorsey’s phone into her hand as she slept. And then we headed back out.

  As we walked downtown, I limped for the first few steps. My ankle was kind of sore.

  Marcus blew out a breath. “That was a bit too close for my liking.”

  “Agreed. Maybe splitting up wasn’t the best idea.” We could take down a zombie when it was two to one, but who knew what hid behind every closed door.

  “I wonder how Charlie and Willa are doing.”

  Just as Marcus said the words, they came around a corner. The neat bun Willa had started the morning with was half pulled out, and Charlie had twigs in his hair.

  I reached up and pulled one of them out. “I think your morning went about as great as ours.”

  Charlie rubbed his face and groaned. “It would have been nice to know beforehand that Chloe’s big sister was having a sleepover on zombie night. We were attacked by a group of undead ballerinas.”

  “The terrifying tutus,” Willa said, wagging her eyebrows.

  Charlie busted out laughing. “I will never forget that.”

  I looked back and forth between them. “What?”

  “Well, one of them came out and . . . forget it. It’s a long story,” Charlie said. “What happened to you guys?”

  “Teen Advisory Board ambush,” Marcus explained.

  But I was still stuck on the fact that Charlie and Willa were giggling over their story. It was strange for Charlie to have an inside joke with a girl who wasn’t me. Then again, Marcus and I were building our own stories, and that didn’t lessen my friendship with Charlie at all. This was just something I’d have to get used to.

  And in the meantime, there were zombies to cure.

  Charlie’s phone trilled, and he took a peek. “Text from Jason. He cured a bunch of football players. He’s moving on to lacrosse next. He knows guys who play the game.”

  “Where should we head next to recruit?” Willa asked.

  What I wanted to do was find and cure my parents. But I had no idea where they could be. They weren’t locked in like Marcus’s. They weren’t stuck at work—they hadn’t gone to work. They could be anywhere.

  A cry echoed across the empty street. I’d heard a few screams here and there this morning, which was to be expected in a zombie apocalypse. But this voice was close by and so desperate. It pulled at my heartstrings.

  “Let’s find that person,” I said.

  We all nodded and grunted in agreement.

  It wasn’t hard to follow the sound. The person—a girl, from what I could tell—was crying hysterically. We marched down the center of Main Street with a good view of all of downtown. But no one else stood in the street or sidewalks.

  Then it came again. “Please, someone! Please help!” And the voice sounded slightly familiar.

  I pointed. “She’s in the alley between the flower shop and the diner.”

  We charged over, and I kept one hand on my phone. Zombies couldn’t talk, but she might have been cornered by one. But when we peered around the side of the brick wall, we found a girl all alone. She sat with her knees pulled up, her face buried.

  “Hey,” I said gently. “We’re here to help.”

  Then she lifted her face up. It was my friend, Vanya! And I knew exactly why she was crying.

  Vanya darted over to me and threw her arms around my neck. “Oh, Bex. Oh, it’s terrible. My parents . . . the whole restaurant . . .”

  “I know,” I said. “I saw.”

  She pulled back. “What’s wrong with them?”

  Vanya’s thick black hair was stuck to the tears on her cheeks. I tucked it behind her ears. “That game, Zombie Town, turned people into zombies.”

  Her dark eyes widened. “But how? Why?”

  “That’s a long story and something we hope to get to the bottom of,” Charlie said. “But the important thing is, we can save everybody.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “How?”

  I explained that the game that had turned them could be used to cure them, and I shared our plan for building a gamer army.

  “So we’ll head into the restaurant and cure them as quickly as possible,” I said. “And then you can watch over them while they sleep and make sure the gamers join our ranks once they’re back up and healthy.”

  Vanya nodded quickly. “Okay. I can do that.”

  I looked at Charlie, Willa, and Marcus. “Ready, Gamer Squad?”

  Even though there were four of us, we were outnumbered by the amount of zombies in the restaurant. We nee
ded a strategy. Thankfully, Vanya could help us with that, too.

  “There’s a back door into the restaurant, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Vanya said. “I have a key.”

  I rubbed my chin. “Okay. One of us should cause a disturbance at the front. They’ll all come to the big window. They did that earlier when Willa and I walked by. And then the rest of us can ambush them from behind through the back door.”

  “I’ll go to the front and distract them,” Willa volunteered.

  Marcus, Charlie, and I took Vanya’s key to the back door and quietly unlocked it. We stood at the end of the alley, waiting for Willa to make a ruckus. Soon enough, I heard her pounding on the glass of the front window.

  “Come bite me, you big dumb zombieheads!”

  She was usually better with her insults, but I’d give her a pass since she was under pressure.

  “Ready?” Charlie whispered.

  I slowly turned the knob and poked my head inside. The back door led into the kitchen. I didn’t see any zombies, but I heard them. They were all in the dining area, shuffling and groaning toward Willa’s shouting.

  “It’s safe,” I said, keeping my voice low.

  We tiptoed inside the kitchen. One of the stove’s burners was still on and a plate stacked high with pancakes lay on the stainless steel counter. It had been business as usual until all zombie hell broke loose.

  Marcus turned off the burner and led the way through the narrow kitchen toward the dining room. The two were separated by a wooden swinging door with a circular window. He took a look, then turned back to us. “They’re all at the front, looking at Willa.”

  I could hear them and their varied groans and screeches. It sounded like an angry brawl of incoherent cats. And we were about to bust right in. I shook off my nerves and pushed past my growing dread. “Let’s do this.”

  We did our best to sneak up behind them while they were focused on Willa, who, for some reason, had moved on from yelling at them and was instead practicing her dance moves. I shrugged. Whatever worked.

  I whispered, “Three, two, one.”

  The three of us started launching cures as fast as our fingers let us. As soon as those red arcs of light hit a few of the zombies, they turned away from Willa (who was now singing a Beyoncé song) and headed toward us.