But this ring needs to go back to Zenon. Otherwise he’s going to let loose with more ice zombies. Which only the ring can stop, so far. And I doubt Keisha’s going to be willing to give it up if she gets it back.
My most precious keepsake from Granddad — or something that could save the whole world?
I shake my head. “No deal, Keisha.”
“What?” She stares at me like she can’t believe she heard right. “No deal? What’re you talking about? It’s my ring, fool! And your grampa’s marble!” Now her scowl turns toward Wardell. “You said it was his most favorite possession!” she accuses.
Wardell looks at me instead of her. “Bakari, I —” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Don’t even bother,” I tell him, cold as I can manage. Cold as the ice zombies. “I got nothing to say to you.” I stand up, wobbling for a second to catch my balance, then round on Keisha. “And as for you,” I tell her, “you’re not getting this ring back, and that’s final!”
“Yeah?” she snaps back at me. “Well, we’ll see, little loser boy. We’ll see.” Then she turns on her heel and stomps off. Tariq is right behind her, one arm still wrapped around Wardell’s shoulder. Wardell takes one last look at me, something like shock on his round face, but I freeze him out and after a second he lets himself get led away.
Leaving me here, alone.
I fold my arms and put my head in them and just sit that way for a minute.
This is the worst day ever. What else can go wrong?
Raargh!”
Why do I do this to myself? Every time I wonder if things could get worse — they do. And yet I keep asking it, over and over again. When will I ever learn?
Sigh.
I lift my head and look around. Oh good, more ice zombies.
There are four of them this time. One looks a lot like one of the zombies from before, the one that swiped at me. Maybe it is him, and he found a way back. It’s hard to tell when they’re so tall, and so frozen, and all zombie-fied.
The second one is a little shorter than the first, but twice as wide. Really, he’s like two of the first guy standing together. His legs are really thick, too — they’d have to be, to be strong enough to lug that big body around — but his arms are normal, so they look super skinny on him. And maybe a little short. Weird. He’s like the ice zombie version of a T. rex, I guess.
The third one’s a woman. Even with all the ice and zombie-ism, you can tell. Not that she’s pretty or anything — she’s an ice zombie, ew! — but she’s definitely not built like a guy.
The last one’s shorter than the others, almost Tariq’s height, and kind of built like him, too. Muscular but not hulking, more slim and solid. He doesn’t have his arms up like the others, either. They’re down at his sides like a normal person. He walks normally, too, no lumbering. If it wasn’t for the fact that his skin is pale blue and his hair’s all icy and his eyes are all filmy, you’d think he was a normal kid or a small adult. He hangs back behind the others, letting them stumble into the room doing the whole growling-and-arm-waving routine, and just watches for a bit.
I don’t like it.
Not that I like his three friends, either, but at least them I can understand.
When did my life get so strange that ice zombies terrorizing my class during lunch was something I could understand and treat like it was normal?
Everybody’s running around screaming again, of course. Why wouldn’t they be? There’s a quartet of ice zombies surrounding us! Lots of snarling, lots of grunting, lots of tables and trays and books being tossed around and banged about.
It’s a wonder none of the teachers or lunch staff have come in to get a better look at what’s going on around here.
Then again, maybe somebody peeked in, saw ice zombies, and decided they’d just sit this one out.
I wish I could do the same.
Instead I haul myself to my feet, reach into my pocket, and pull out the ring. “Here we go again,” I mutter as I slip the clunky ice jewelry over my thumb and hold it up.
Nothing happens.
“Let’s go!” I shout, shaking it like I did last time. “Make with the cold and the disk and all that! Now!” I glare at the ring, squeezing it tight again, and concentrate.
Nothing happens.
Keisha is suddenly there next to me, her hand out. “Give it to me!”
“What? No way!” I twist away from her, hold it higher — she’s one of the only people in our class who’s about my height, and Tariq is still on the other side of the room, using a lunch tray to batter the ice zombie woman away from Trisha and some others — and I try again.
Still nothing.
“Work, darn it!” I shake it more, squeeze it tighter, practically cross my eyes trying to mentally activate it.
Nothing.
Not even a little blue blip.
“Bakari!” It’s Keisha again. “Give it to me! Now!”
And there’s her hand, right there.
You know what? Fine. I tug the ring off and slap it into her palm. “You want it,” I tell her, “fine. Here. Take it. Now make them go away!”
She slides the ring onto her own thumb, studies it there, and smiles her smug little cat-with-the-cream smile. “With pleasure.”
I watch as she raises her hand, ring out like some kind of weapon. “Ring, ring, do your thing!” she shouts.
And a dazzling blue disk appears in the middle of the room, hovering high above, looking like a big, floating halo. Just like that.
“Okay, you got it to work,” I admit. “But it’s not like they’re all the way up there, are they?”
She grins at me, then flicks her hand at the disk — and it glides across the room like it was a Frisbee and she just gave it a proper toss. It sails straight for the biggest zombie, the super-wide one —
— and drops right over his head. Clearly Keisha is the queen of ringtoss.
The zombie has just enough time to look a little surprised before his head disappears. The disk keeps dropping, swallowing the rest of him, and when it hits the floor he’s gone, gone, gone.
Why didn’t I think of that? It’s a whole lot easier than maneuvering two ice zombies to jump through the hoop from opposite sides!
“Tariq!” Keisha calls next. He bats the ice zombie woman away and looks over. “Catch!” With another flick she somehow sends the disk skipping across the floor toward him. If this was a lake and it was a stone she’d win, easy.
Tariq catches it with one hand, grins, waves it like a salute, and then turns and lassos the ice zombie woman with it. I’m not quite sure why his fingers don’t disappear, too — maybe because they’re connected to the rest of him, and there’s a lot more of him outside the disk than in — but anyway he slides the disk down over her and sends her back where she belongs.
Which leaves two, the regular-sized one and the smaller, more normal-acting one.
He goes for the regular ice zombie — How does a phrase like that even make sense? What’s “regular” about an ice zombie? — stalking it like it’s a tiger and he’s a big-game hunter, the disk held out in front him like a combination shield and spear. The ice zombie sees Tariq coming but it’s clearly not too bright, and decides to meet him head on.
One quick swipe of the disk and we’re down to just one.
This one watches Tariq approach, head tilted to one side, studying him. It waits until he’s close — and then it darts forward, fast, and shoves him hard.
Tariq goes flying. The disk comes loose and rolls across the floor. Tariq slams into one of the lunch tables. Ouch.
And the ice zombie shifts its focus to Keisha.
Who I’m standing right next to.
Not that Keisha seems worried. “Oh, you want some of this?” she tells him as he stalks toward her. This one actually moves like it’s a tiger, careful and graceful and slow for now but with that coiled speed you can see in every stride. Keisha just glares. “Well, come get some, then!”
Suddenly he
bursts into a sprint, but Keisha’s ready for him, and the blue disk appears right in his path. Somehow he manages to twist to the side, dodging the opening — but then it swivels right in his way again. He turns, and it follows. The disk glides forward, and he backs up a pace, then bolts forward, sliding around it before Keisha can change its course.
It’s like watching a weird dance, the disk trying to close the distance, the zombie trying to increase it.
Right now, it looks to me like the zombie’s winning.
Which doesn’t sit too well with Keisha. “Oh, I’m done with this,” she mutters, and I see her scowl. She raises her hand again — and a second disk appears right behind the zombie. Then a third, on his left. And finally a fourth, on his right.
He’s boxed in.
Just before the disks converge, blocking him completely from sight, I see the ice zombie look over at Keisha and nod. He’s paying her respect.
That’s one clever ice zombie.
Then the disks move in, linking together to become one big wraparound shape — and squeeze into a single sphere before flattening again and winking out.
No more ice zombies.
“Nice one,” I tell Keisha. I don’t really want to, but it’s true. She’s way better at using the ring than I am.
She just sniffs. “It’s all about control,” she tells me, like it’s no big deal she just fought off four ice zombies with nothing but a magic ring. “I have that in spades, and this here ring knows it.” The way she scans me and dismisses me says without words that she thinks I don’t have it. I guess she’s right. Making the ring produce one disk almost wiped me out. She did four at once. But she’s always had a lot of confidence. Me? Not so much.
Tariq comes ambling over, all casual now that the ice zombies are gone. Behind him, some kids are starting to push the lunch tables back into place. “Good looking out, cos,” he tells Keisha, and bumps fists with her.
Wardell is right behind him, like some oversized shadow. “Yeah, that was awesome,” he agrees, offering a fist, but both cousins ignore him. “So, what do you two wanna do next?”
The look Keisha turns his way could fry an egg, and if I weren’t still mad at Wardell I’d feel sorry for him. “Back off, kid,” she tells him in almost a snarl. “We’re done with you.”
“Done? What do you mean? I thought we were friends.” He turns toward Tariq. “Tariq? Aren’t we friends?”
Tariq shrugs and studies his shoes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he actually felt bad for Wardell, too. Not Keisha, though. She just barks out a sharp little laugh. “Friends? Oh, heck no!” She laughs again and looks my way. “We just needed you to get my ring back from this no-name, no-neck loser.” She sniffs. “You couldn’t even do that right! But at least you let slip about the marble being his. That was almost useful.”
Let slip? So Wardell didn’t betray me on purpose? I should have known. He’s always had my back, all these years. Why would I think he’d turn on me now?
“Wardell —” I start, but he puts up a hand.
“I’m done with you, Bakari, I’m not speaking to you anymore,” he tells me. I don’t bother to point out how that was speaking to me. I don’t think he’d appreciate it much right at this moment.
So instead I turn to Keisha. “You can’t keep that ring,” I tell her. “The guy sending these ice zombies? It’s his ring. We need to get it back to him before he lets all of them loose and they take over the world.” Though I’m not entirely sure what they’d do with the world once they had it. Freeze it? Eat everyone? Freeze and eat everyone? Freeze everyone and just eat a few of us? I don’t know that Zenon’s really thought this whole thing through.
Not that Keisha seems to care. “Whatever,” she says, waving off what I just said. “You’re just sore ’cause you can’t work its magic.”
Anything I wanted to say in response gets interrupted as Mrs. Crump steps into the cafeteria. “All done with lunch?” she asks, glancing around. I look, too. Amazingly, all the furniture’s back in place, all the trash is cleaned up, and we’re all standing near the door. If you didn’t know better, and didn’t notice the dents and scrapes everywhere, you’d never think anything unusual had happened here. “Library time,” Mrs. Crump continues. “Form your lines, please!”
Keisha struts off without a second glance, right up to the door and Mrs. Crump, that ice ring still settled around her thumb. I mutter and grumble under my breath as I follow the other boys to stand over behind Tariq.
I just know this isn’t gonna end well.
This is lousy! Wardell won’t look at me, much less talk to me. Can’t say I blame him. How could I think he’d hurt me? What is wrong with me that I can’t even trust my best friend?
I’m trudging along, staring at my own dirty-sneakered feet, not paying a whole lot of attention, when we round the last corner to the library.
Brzzzzzz!
That’s when I get hit with a blast of cold air strong enough to make my breath instantly turn to those little puffs, like cloud rings.
Great. Just great.
Glancing up, I see another disk has appeared, not two feet in front of me. No arms grabbing for me this time, at least, but the circle itself is producing some kind of pull like a giant vacuum cleaner.
Oh no!
I’m being sucked in!
And I’m not the only one. During our walk from the cafeteria the lines shifted order again, like when Keisha and Tariq cornered me and Wardell on the way to lunch. This time, I guess I was walking faster than I realized, and everybody else just got out of my way. However it happened, I’m now second in line for the boys. Which means I’m right behind Tariq.
And as the disk starts tugging harder from the side, and I feel my feet slipping across the floor, I see that he’s being pulled toward that frozen opening, too.
“Get back!” I shout at him, trying to wave him off. I see him plant his feet and hunch over, like he can stick himself to the floor through sheer force of will, but it’s no good. The disk’s too strong, and we’re both sliding toward it.
“Bakari!” It’s Wardell, shoving his way through the crowd. “What’s happening?”
“It’s Zenon!” I tell him. “He’s pulling me back in!” I’m almost to the disk now. There’s nothing to grab on to, nothing to anchor myself with, and no way to stop. Another second and I’m gonna be right back in that zombie ice land, maybe for good.
Wardell grabs me by the arm. “I’m not letting go!” he says. This is why Wardell is so cool. Unfortunately, he doesn’t really have the muscle to back up the thought. Who could, against Zenon? I’m pulled free of his grip and stumble, the disk yanking me right off my feet — and through that plane of arctic cold, right into Zenon’s homeland.
Tariq is behind me, looking really annoyed, confused, and just a little scared.
What I didn’t expect, as I hit the snow and ice and roll out of his way, was to see somebody else half-charging, half-falling through after him.
Somebody big and bulky, with a head that looks too small for him.
And as if that wasn’t enough, there’s another person right behind him, with a mass of hair piled high atop her head.
Tariq staggers when he hits the ground but manages to keep his feet. Show-off. He glances back over his shoulder and sees what’s coming next. Using his athletic gifts he quickly dives to one side, clearing the landing zone.
Bam!
Wardell hits with a thunderclap.
Keisha’s right behind him and plows into him, bouncing off Wardell’s midsection and back into a nearby snowbank.
The disk vanishes.
There’s nothing but ice and snow all around.
My best friend and my two worst enemies are in the thick of this icy horror. And, somewhere, not too far off, are a whole lot of ice zombies.
It’s like a crazy snow day.
Tariq’s the first one to say anything. “Where are we?” he asks, rubbing his arms and trying not to shiver. “This place is
freezing! And what’s the deal with all those glowing circles, anyway?” Keisha stumbles out of the snowbank, sputtering angrily and brushing snow from her clothes, and he turns to her. “Did you make it do that? You made the ones in the lunchroom, right?”
“No, I didn’t make it do that,” she snaps at him, shaking her head and sending snow flying from her hair. “The ones at lunch — yeah, those were mine, but only because I saw Bakari do it first, so I knew that was how to get rid of those freaks.” She glares at me. “Did you bring us here, wherever here is? Where are we, in some kind of ice rink or something?”
I can’t help it — I laugh. “Does this look like an ice rink to you?” I ask, gesturing all around us. There are houses off a ways on one side and trees on the other.
However, here in the middle we’re in what looks like a park or a parking lot — wide and flat and open. “This is the Zero Degree Zombie Zone. It’s where those ice zombies at lunch came from. And it’s where the zombie ruler I told you about lives — he’s the one who wants the ring.”
“Yeah?” Keisha frowns and scans the area. She rubs the ring with the fingers of her other hand. “Well, he can’t have it.”
“I don’t know,” Tariq offers. “Maybe we should give it to him. Maybe then he’ll send us home.”
Whoa! That may be the first time I’ve ever heard Tariq disagree with Keisha. I stare at him, but no more than she does. Before she can say anything, though, I find myself talking — and saying something I never thought I’d say, not in a zillion years.
“Actually, Keisha may be right.” It sounds like my voice, and I can feel my mouth moving, but I’m surprised by what I’m saying. As surprised as the others are, judging by their expressions. “I know I said before that we should return the ring to Zenon, but now that he’s dragged us here I’m not sure that’s a good idea. If we do give it up, we’ve got no leverage, nothing to bargain with.”
The Zero Degree Zombie Zone Page 4
