The Zero Degree Zombie Zone

by Patrik Henry Bass

  I don’t want to get involved — let Keisha and Tariq handle it, it’s their school — but somehow I find myself clambering to my feet anyway. “You shouldn’t be here!” I shout as I hurry over toward the ice zombies. Yes, a part of my brain is screaming at me, wondering what the heck I’m doing. There’s a pair of ice zombies in my school, right in the cafeteria, and I’m walking toward them? What’s wrong with this picture?

  But I keep going anyway, stopping when I’m only a few feet away. Just out of their range. I hope. “You don’t belong here,” I tell them. “This place isn’t for you.” Then I lean in a little. “Look, I’ve got the ring,” I say quietly. “Go back and tell Zenon I’ve got it. I can bring it to him as soon as we’re done with lunch, okay?” I don’t bring it out and wave it in their faces — that just seems really lame, the kind of dumb stuff people do all the time in the movies — but they should be able to figure out what I mean.

  Except the way they’re still looking at me, I’m not sure they can figure out much past “dinner” and maybe “lunch.”

  And “snack.”

  “Grrrrrr.” The guy on the left snarls, and swings for me. He misses by a mile, bumping into one of the recycling bins instead. It goes flying, empty cans and water bottles and yogurt containers spilling out all over the floor. Guess they’re not too worried about saving the planet where he’s from.

  “Yaaaa,” the one on the right adds, and grabs the nearest table. Kids scatter, pulling their legs and backpacks clear just before he flips the long table, seats and all.

  That’s what sets off the panic. There’s fourth graders running everywhere, shouting and screaming.

  Only problem is, there’s only three ways out of our cafeteria. First, there’s the sliding wall that blocks us off from the sections for the other grades. It’s locked down tight, has been ever since a couple of kids took over the controls on their section a few years back and made the wall shimmy back and forth a dozen or so times, exciting everyone on both sides.

  Then there’s the door to the kitchens, which you can’t open from our side without a key — the lunch ladies don’t want us trying to sneak in and steal food, I guess.

  And then there’s the door back out into the hall. The same one the ice zombies are still blocking, more or less.

  Nobody’s going anywhere.

  “Look I don’t know who you think you are,” Keisha shouts, “but nobody messes with Keisha Marie Owens like this and gets away with it. You move your fool self out of my way right now!” For once, though, Keisha’s met her match — the ice zombies are apparently immune to her particular brand of scary charm, and her threat doesn’t budge them one inch.

  Then she makes the mistake of kicking one in the shin. “Ow!” she cries, hopping on her other foot while trying to massage the one she kicked him with. “What’re you, made of stone? Broke my darn foot, you freak!”

  Ice, actually, I think, but I don’t bother saying it. What would be the point?

  Tariq leaps in just then, glaring at the ice zombie. “Nobody messes with my cousin!” he shouts, and hurls himself at the monster, shoulder first like this is football and he’s blocking for the QB. Too bad Mr. Ice Zombie towers over him by at least a foot and is frozen solid besides. Wow. For the first time in history Tariq fails at something. I probably shouldn’t enjoy that as much as I do.

  Especially since the one on the right has spotted me again, and starts making his way toward me, tossing tables and benches and food trays and trash cans aside as he goes. Any kid who gets too close to his flailing arms goes flying as well, but those milky eyes stay fixed on me. I think.

  Gulp.

  Maybe they understood about the ring after all.

  There’s got to be a way to send these guys back home. I reach into my pocket for Granddad’s marble, hoping maybe he was right about it having magic — but of course it isn’t there.

  Instead my hand touches something squared off and heavy and really cold.

  Oh, right.

  I slide the ring onto my thumb and pull my hand out of my pocket, holding the ring up high. “Uh, I command you to go back to your own world!” I shout, trying to make myself heard over the crowd.

  Nothing happens.

  “Go away!” I try again, waving the ring in their direction.

  Still nothing, other than my thumb going a little numb.

  “Come on!” I shout, shaking the ring back and forth. “Do something, already!”

  You ever have that feeling when you bite into something cold — really cold — and it’s like the cold lances right through your brain?

  I get a sensation just like that. Ow! Only it doesn’t fade right away. And somehow, don’t ask me how, I know it’s coming from the ring.

  “Yeah?” I mutter to it. “You think that’s gonna stop me from using you? Guess again, chump. Bakari Katari Johnson is on the case, and you are gonna help me get these ice suckers home. Somehow.”

  The sharp pain continues, and I concentrate on it as hard as I can. Work!

  I’m so busy tussling with this pain in my head, I almost don’t see it. But then out of the corner of my eye I glimpse something small, bright, blue, and glowing. I glance over, and it’s a circle like the one Zenon sent me through. Yes!

  Only it’s about the size of a hamster wheel.

  That’s just not gonna do the trick.

  “Grow!” I tell it through clenched teeth. The pain isn’t going away, but I focus on it, using it to keep me on task. I’ve got the ring gripped tight in one hand, and I keep the pressure on mentally as much as I can. Too bad I’m more a relaxed kind of guy. Mental pressure isn’t really my strong suit.

  Still, I don’t give up. And slowly the disk grows a little bigger. Now it’s about the size of a soccer ball.

  “You will do what I tell you!” I whisper to the ring. I’m squeezing it so hard it’s digging into my skin, and there’re dull flashes of pain radiating up from that spot in time with the sharp needle stabbing into my head, but I tell myself to stay strong and flash right back at it.

  Now the hole’s like a Hula-Hoop. Almost there!

  The only problem is, the two ice zombies are halfway across the room from each other now — the one on the left is terrorizing kids near the kitchen door, while the one on the right hasn’t strayed far from the hall door. They’re keeping us boxed in, and making it impossible for me to do anything to both of them at once. It doesn’t look like anybody’s actually been bitten yet. Maybe they’re not big on the taste of fourth graders? Maybe we’re not quite ripe? But that’s probably only a matter of time.

  Unless I can get them moving.

  “Hey, gross ice face!” I shout at the one by the kitchen. “You always look like this, or did somebody break a whole mess of ugly ice sticks over your head?”

  He turns slowly, those filmy eyes sweeping around until finally they land on me. “Yeah, that’s right,” I tell him. “I’m talking to you. I don’t see anybody else here looks like a frozen road accident.”

  He bares his teeth at me — not a pretty sight, no matter how sparkly they are — and starts staggering in my direction.

  One down.

  The pain makes me glance over at the disk again, and it’s now taller than I am. Sweet.

  Time for number two.

  “Yo, ice queen!” I call to the one by the hall door. “Yeah, you. I guess he’s the ugly one, so you must be the stupid one, right? Do you even know what that means? Or is what little brain you once had completely frozen over?”

  Now it’s his turn to scowl at me and lumber after me as I move toward the center of the room, and closer to that glowing disk that I can still feel throbbing in my head and my hand.

  Perfect.

  I try not to think about what an incredibly bad idea this is.

  “That’s the best you two can do?” I ask instead, directing my words at both of them with my best Keisha-like sneer. “Really? I’ve got Popsicles at home scarier than you two.”

  They s
peed up a little. Not a lot, but probably as much as they can. I just hope it’s fast enough, because I don’t know how long I can hold this disk open.

  “Oh, please!” I shout when they’re each maybe four feet from me. My head’s splitting, but the disk is as tall as they are now, and twice as wide. And I’m standing right beside it. “I’m right here!” I tell both ice zombies. “Come and get me! Can you even get that right?”

  That does the trick. They both growl like hungry dogs and break into clumsy runs, arms out, mouths open, moaning and gurgling.

  And I step out of the way just in time for both of them to crash into the disk from opposite sides.

  But instead of colliding in the middle, they both charge through it — and vanish.

  The second they’re gone I stop thinking about the stabbing cold, letting go with a shudder. The disk disappears as well, winking out of existence and leaving only empty air and a throbbing in my head and my hand.

  I glance down at the ring, heavy and cold on my thumb.

  Wow.

  Whoa!” Wardell is at my side a second after the disk vanishes. Which is probably a good thing, since I stagger and almost topple over before he catches me. “Dude, that was intense! Did you do that?”

  “Which part?” I mumble. It hurts to talk. It hurts to move. Heck, it hurts to think right now!

  “The big, glowy thing in the middle of the room!” He looks at me like I’m a dummy, which right now I just might be. “The thing you taunted those two weird frozen freaks into jumping through.” He scratches his head. “How’d you get them to jump through, exactly?”

  “I didn’t.” I stagger over to the nearest bench and plop down onto it. Aaah. I might never move again. “They were charging me. I just made sure the disk was in their way.” The ring is still digging into my thumb, so I slide it off and stick it back in my pocket. Then I start rubbing some warmth back into the thumb with my other hand. Much better.

  “Seriously?” Now Wardell’s looking at me like I’m nuts instead of lame. “I saw you standing there, and your mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear what you were saying over all the shouting and screaming and those icy creeps’ grunting. You wanted them to make a play for you?”

  “Yeah.” I rub at my face with my unfrozen hand. “I couldn’t think of anything else.”

  Wardell sits down next to me, causing the bench to creak a little. “Well, it worked,” he admits. “Nice one.” I just nod. “So — were those the ice zombies from that place you went?” I nod again. “Freaky.”

  Yeah, “freaky” about covers it.

  Everybody’s still in a panic, and there’s lots of noise everywhere, creating a harsh buzzing in my head. But one particularly sharp voice is missing, and I look up, scanning the room. Why do I not hear her anywhere? I know she’s — ah, there she is. Keisha is talking to Tariq, of course, off to one side. But she’s doing it real quiet-like. Uh-oh. Whenever she gets quiet, it’s a really bad sign. Just like when she turns nice.

  To make me worry even more, she and Tariq keep glancing over at me. That can’t be good.

  I wonder if she spotted the ring on my thumb. Everything was pretty crazy, and it isn’t all that big, plus she wasn’t near me, and there were ice zombies trying to bite her. Maybe she missed it.

  And maybe I’ll be named hall monitor, student of the year, class president, and soccer goalie all at the same time.

  Right.

  Some of the other kids are wandering over now, still a bit dazed but getting curious. “Hey, what was all that about?” One of them, Raymond, asks. “Those guys in makeup or something?”

  “Yeah, and what was with that glowing circle?” Another, Terrence, adds. “Crazy special effects! They shooting a movie here and nobody told us?”

  I don’t really have any good answers — except the truth, which would sound totally insane and get me labeled the class nut — so I just shrug. “Yeah, I dunno,” I tell them instead. “It was wacky, all right.”

  A few of the others join us, and people start offering their own version of what that was all about. And, weirdly, I seem to be in the middle of the conversation. That never happens — most of the time it’s just me and Wardell.

  Which makes me realize he hasn’t said anything since he declared the whole incident “freaky.” It’s been a few minutes at least, and not a peep.

  That’s not like him.

  I turn, and almost fall off the bench.

  Except for me, it’s completely empty.

  Where did Wardell go? For a second I worry that Zenon yanked him into the Zero Degree Zombie Zone, maybe to use as bait — you know, the whole, “Give me my ring or I torture your best friend!” trick. If that’s the case, he’s in for a big surprise. Nobody messes with my pal like that! I start to stand up, my knees a little shaky still —

  — and that’s when I see him.

  Wardell.

  And not with ice zombies.

  No, this is even worse.

  He’s standing with Keisha and Tariq.

  All three of them are talking, and gesturing, and smiling.

  And laughing.

  Laughing!

  My worst enemies, my arch-nemeses, the banes of my existence, and my best friend is giggling with them like they’re best buddies.

  What the heck is going on here? Did I fall asleep and dream all this up? Did I slip into an alternate dimension? Did the ice zombies use some kind of reverse ray on all of us when nobody was looking?

  Or is Wardell just suddenly hanging out with the enemy?

  Keisha glances over, sees me, and smiles. It’s not a nice smile. It’s her, “I’m gonna crush you like an insect” smile. I’ve seen it from her a lot today.

  Then she turns back toward Wardell, and it’s a totally different look on her face. Now it’s her, “Hey, I’m perfectly nice and I like you and really want to hear what you have to say” look. The one she uses on teachers all the time. The same one she tried on me out in the hall earlier.

  But this time it looks like it’s working.

  Because Wardell’s smiling back at her. Not his, “Yeah, whatever, I’m watching you” smile, either. No, this is his, “Hey, yeah, totally cool” smile. Maybe even with traces of his, “I’m happy, everything’s perfect, life is sweet” grin tossed in.

  And Tariq, right next to him, is grinning, too. He slaps Wardell on the back, hard enough to make him stumble a little, but he’s laughing when he does it. Like he wasn’t trying to hurt Wardell at all, like this is all some big joke between friends.

  Best friends.

  The stab of pain that doubles me over this time isn’t in my head. It’s in my heart. And it hurts ten times worse than the one from the ring did.

  Wardell. My best bud. My solo amigo. My pal, my home slice, my partner in crime.

  Hanging with Tariq like they’ve been friends forever.

  And not even looking my way.

  No, wait, I’m wrong. He is looking my way. They all are.

  And now they’re heading over here.

  The crowd around me thins, then fades to nothing as Keisha approaches, Tariq and Wardell right behind her. Tariq has one arm thrown over Wardell’s broad shoulders like it’s nothing, like they do this all the time. Wardell’s nodding and bouncing to his own inner rhythm, like he does, and beaming like this is the day to end all days.

  “Hey, Bakari,” Keisha says, stopping a foot or two away from me. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine, thanks,” I snap, though really my head’s still pounding and my heart’s still racing and my vision’s a little blurry and my limbs feel like jelly. “How about you?”

  “Oh, good, good,” she says, waving off any concern. “Those guys were insane, right? What was the deal with them, exactly?” Same question I’ve heard from half our class at this point, only Keisha’s staring at me like she knows I have a real answer.

  I just shrug.

  “Good job sending them back,” she says next. She leans in a little closer. “But I
think you got something that don’t belong to you, don’t you? And I’d like it back. Now.”

  I cross my arms, which is good because it stops them from shaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She snorts and rolls her eyes. Tariq laughs. He also elbows Wardell, like, “Hey, isn’t that funny, yo?” Wardell chuckles, though he doesn’t appear too happy about it. “Sure you do,” Keisha corrects me. She’s keeping her voice down, making sure this conversation stays private. “You got my ring. I want it back.”

  I look down at my hands. Good thing I stuffed it into my pocket again! “Nope, no ring here.” I hold up both hands to prove it.

  She sighs. “Fine, if that’s how you want to play it….” Then she shrugs. “Well, I guess that’s a shame, then. I really liked that ring. But at least we’ve got something new to play with instead. Right, Tariq?”

  Her cousin’s been following along, and now he grins again. “Yeah, right.” He reaches into his pocket, and I feel some of the headache come back guessing what he’s going to pull out. Sure enough, when he opens his hand a second later he’s got a round, pale-gray sphere nestled in his palm.

  Granddad’s marble.

  “It sure is pretty,” Keisha says to me, stepping back over to Tariq and admiring it. “Be a real shame if something happened to it. Especially if it means a lot to somebody.” Her gaze flicks to Wardell and then back to me. Wardell gulps, looks at me, then looks away. Like he can’t meet my eyes. Like he’s done something horrible.

  That traitor! I glare at him. I can’t believe he told her about Granddad’s marble! How could he betray me like that?

  “What do you want, Keisha?” I ask. I’m impressed I manage to keep my own voice steady. No hint of the fear welling up inside, or the anger wrapped around it. Just steady, and cold, and hard.

  “I want my ring back,” she tells me, extending her open hand. “Give it to me, and you can have your grampa’s precious stinky marble back. Deal?”

  Yes, I want to shout. Yes! But once again I stop before my mouth opens. I want Granddad’s marble back, sure. It means the world to me. And there’s the whole, “Could be magic if Granddad wasn’t just being weird” thing.