Sam Finch and the Zombie Hybrid (Sam Finch Series Book 1)

by Bouchard, J. W.

  Sam reached the forest first. He waited behind the first set of trees, making sure he had a clear line of sight to the dirt road.

  Five minutes passed

  She’s late, he thought. Maybe she chickened out after all.

  By the time another ten minutes passed by, Sam had decided to follow the secret path down to the stream, thinking that perhaps Lilah had been early, but then he spotted a familiar purple-robed figure far down on the dirt road.

  Making sure there was no one else on the road, Sam stepped out from behind the tree and waited for Lilah to look in his direction. When she did, he waved and then took cover behind the tree again.

  “Running late?” Sam asked when Lilah reached the tree.

  “You’re lucky I came at all,” Lilah said. “This is highly risky. And waving like that – what were you thinking? Didn’t I make it clear that we have to be as cautious as ever?”

  “Crystal.”

  “If someone had seen you waving like that…”

  “I’ve got it,” Sam said. “It was dumb. From now on, I’m in über-secret mode.”

  “There’s only a month left before the school year ends. I’m not about to get thrown out now.”

  “Okay! Will you stop talking it about it already?”

  Lilah opened her mouth, about to protest, but closed it again. She started down the path, Sam following behind her feeling like a scolded child.

  “So have you heard anything else?” Sam asked.

  “About the ‘strange happenings?’ No. King Leodan gave us the same speech he gave you about being vigilant. Instructor Volatine said that there hasn’t been any shortage of reports flooding in, but none have amounted to anything. He said most of them aren’t even credible. People reporting other people because of the way they eat their food, or because they dress differently. It’s worse now because the warm weather means people travel from farther away. They should have expected it to be this way. The King asks for vigilance and gets paranoia instead.”

  Sarah was still the only person Sam had told about what had really happened in the infirmary with Malavant. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to tell Lilah the truth, if for no other reason than she might be able to shed some light on the subject, but he resisted the temptation.

  “Have you done anymore spying in the castle?”

  They reached the point where the path curved and sloped downward. In a minute or two, they would be able to see the stream and Lilah’s favorite boulder.

  “I’ve never been invited back.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you would be.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  Lilah said, “I thought maybe you would have heard something more about Demälikar. It’s obvious that that’s what all of this about. They think he has someone on the inside. Giving him information.”

  Sam didn’t see how that was possible. Tampering with Sarah’s sword was one thing, but the circumstances leading to Malavant’s hybrid state couldn’t have been planned; it was a one-in-a-million scenario, Finnaeus had said as much himself. A side effect of the poison and the resurrection spell.

  “You really think he could have a spy in the castle?”

  “It isn’t that hard to believe. If you ask me, it’s one of the students. Think about it. It’s the perfect disguise. No one would ever suspect.”

  “It must be contagious,” Sam said.

  “What?”

  “Paranoia. Everybody has a theory.”

  When they reached the stream, Sam opened the flap on the satchel and rummaged around inside. A moment later, he brought out the spellbook Lilah had given him.

  “You brought it with you?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “What if someone had stopped you? Searched your things? You don’t think being caught with a book like that would look suspicious?”

  “I don’t see how a book –”

  He had been about to say that he didn’t see how a book could make anyone a suspect, but suddenly a connection was made inside his brain. Trevor had a book called How to Train a Zombie. He had said that he was reading it because of Finnaeus’s demonstration, but now Sam found himself wondering again if maybe that had been a lie. After all, hadn’t his gut reaction been that Trevor had been lying? And Sam had suspected him ever since. Wasn’t it a little coincidental that Trevor was reading a book about training zombies when he slept right next to one? Malavant might not qualify as a zombie in the fullest sense of the word, but he was halfway there. In fact, hadn’t he seen Trevor talking to Malavant when they first entered the living quarters?

  But why would Trevor want to train a zombie? Sam wondered.

  “You are practically begging to get caught,” Lilah said. Sam lost his train of thought and the puzzle he was putting together in his mind fell apart. “What part of secret are you struggling with?”

  “There was a spell in here I wanted to ask you about,” Sam said. He opened the spellbook to the page he had bookmarked. “This one here. See?”

  Lilah took the book from him. “Perpetual Light?”

  “Yeah, seemed like a no-brainer. Simple and handy. Light – anywhere, anytime.”

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that one,” Lilah said, handing the book back to him. “I’ll let you look up the conjure words since you know how to do it now.”

  However, Sam didn’t need to consult the book to learn the words. He had made a point of memorizing them when he had first stumbled upon the spell.

  He closed the book, lifted his free hand, and said, “Omnis Lux.”

  “First try!” Lilah said, pointing to the tiny ball of light that now hovered above the palm of his hand. It didn’t exactly have a distinct shape; it was spherical, but the rays of light shining from it made it hard to tell. In the bright sunlight of day, the ball of light appeared faint. “It looks a lot better in the dark. Now throw it.”

  “Throw it?”

  “Yes. You can do more than just carry it around. You can place it anywhere you want and it will illuminate the surrounding area.”

  Sam balled up his hand, fingers closing around the sphere of light, and then he chucked it at the nearest tree. It streaked toward the tree, slowed, and then hovered when it reached the tree’s trunk, spreading light in a small circle. “Cool.”

  “Watch,” Lilah said. She searched around her until she found a foot long twig. She picked it up, and without speaking the words out loud, cast the Perpetual Light spell. A moment later, a ball of light appeared (significantly brighter than the one he had conjured, Sam noticed). She delicately took the ball of light and placed it on one end of the twig. The light stayed there. Lilah swung the twig around, but the light seemed to be glued in place.

  Sam cast the spell again, this time without saying the words.

  “When did you learn to do that?”

  “Months ago,” Sam said. “The first time I didn’t even mean to do it. I was mad and it just…happened. I’m getting better at it.”

  “I would say so. That’s advanced stuff. You didn’t even move your lips. If we weren’t breaking school rules, I’d tell Instructor Volatine about you and he would probably try to convince you to go over to Mage Skills.”

  Sam shook his head, but looked rather pleased with himself. “It’s only a hobby. I still want to be a warrior.”

  “Of course you do. Deep down you’re like every other guy. Swinging a big sword makes you feel macho.”

  They practiced the Perpetual Light spell for half an hour, taking turns to see who could come up with the most inventive place to put the light. At one point, Sam managed to conjure two balls of light, one in each hand, and began to juggle them in the air.

  One of the balls of light got away from him. Sam jumped forward to catch it, but lost his balance and fell over, knocking Lilah down in the process. She fell on top of him. They landed so that Lilah’s face was an inch or two from Sam’s. For a split second, they each stared into the other’s eyes. Sam couldn’t explain why, but he had the ove
rpowering urge to kiss her. He lifted his head, ready to do just that, but Lilah lifted herself up into a sitting position.

  They tried to laugh it off; tried to act as though it hadn’t happened. An awkward tension hung in the air until Lilah said, “Show off. I take back what I said. Instructor Volatine absolutely hates people that goof around in his classes.”

  Sam shook off his embarrassment. “Having a little fun helps sometimes,” Sam said. “I’ve gotten so used to having bad luck all the time that I need reminding there’s more to life than misery.”

  “That’s a little melodramatic.”

  “Is it? You obviously don’t realize how often things go wrong for me.”

  “Sometimes,” Lilah said, “a person spends so much time focusing on the bad things, they forget the fact that there is a lot of good in the world too.”

  “It sure doesn’t seem that way,” Sam said. He glanced at Lilah. The urge to kiss her came over him again, but he didn’t dare act on it this time. Guilt washed over him, and his eyes were drawn to the row of bushes in front of the trees. They weren’t the same bushes Sarah had been hiding behind several months ago – those had been uprooted and blown away by Lilah’s spell – but they were similar. What if Sarah had been spying on them now? What would she say if she knew he had tried to kiss Lilah? Despite Curtis’s jokes to the contrary, he and Sarah weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but Sam still felt like he had betrayed her somehow.

  “Sam?”

  “Huh?”

  “I was trying to tell you that I’m not sure when I’ll have time for another lesson. There’s only a month left and I need to spend most of my time studying. My certification tests are a few days before the school year ends.”

  “Oh, I see,” Sam said, wondering whether tests were the real reason or if it was really because he had crossed the line with her. “That makes sense, I guess.”

  “Don’t look so depressed,” Lilah said. “Once I get my certification, we can work on getting you permission for me to teach you. That way we won’t have to sneak around anymore.”

  “Yeah, but that won’t be until next year.”

  “It’s not that long when you think about it. We can always write each other over the summer.”

  “Am I going to see you again before training ends?”

  “Why wouldn’t you? If you’re not spending all your time with that other girl, that is.”

  “What did she ever do to you?”

  “It has nothing to do with me,” Lilah said. “One would think, however, that she would be more honest with her friends.”

  “You really aren’t answering my question,” Sam said.

  “It isn’t any of my business. But it doesn’t matter, I need to be getting back.”

  Sam should have known not to ask questions when it came to Lilah’s feelings toward Sarah; whenever he did, Lilah’s mood took a turn for the worse.

  They followed the path out of the forest without speaking to each other. Sam stopped when they reached the dirt road leading back to the village.

  “You’ll at least have time to say goodbye, won’t you?” Sam asked.

  “I’ll try, Sam,” Lilah said.

  “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking a chance on me,” Sam said.

  Lilah nodded and stepped onto the road, while Sam stood hidden behind a tree. He watched her go, wondering how long it would be before he saw her again. When she was out of sight, he began the walk back to the village.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE DARKEST HOUR

  Over the last three weeks, Sam had had a difficult time shaking the feeling of emptiness he felt at no longer being able to train with Lilah. It was becoming a familiar emotion; it was the same feeling he’d had when Sarah had refused to talk to him.

  Training that day had been a particularly grueling experience as Alsted pushed them harder than ever now that their first year was nearing an end. Sam had grown strong over the last year, so it wasn’t a problem for him to be constantly lifting and swinging Rusty, but they had been learning ground fighting techniques for the last two days, and that had taken its toll. Sam often retired to the living quarters covered in dirt from rolling around on the ground. Alsted had made them switch partners in order to give them a taste of what it would be like fighting different opponents. Sam had won against half of the other boys he had been up against. His success with ground fighting came from it being more about skill and technique than brute strength. He was quick, shifty, and adept at slipping out of various holds.

  When he wasn’t training, Sam occupied his time by keeping a close eye on Trevor, but Trevor was either innocent of any shady business or knew he was being watched because nothing out of the ordinary happened; most of the time the boy had his nose buried in a book. Sam had been positive that Trevor was up to no good, but now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he was just being paranoid. Curtis had assured him that this was the case. “No different,” Curtis had said, “then you getting flack for being friends with Sarah.”

  Of course, the only person he had told the truth about what had happened to Malavant was Sarah, so it wasn’t really surprising that no one else was suspicious of Trevor.

  Maybe I should mention it to Sarah. She’d know what to do about it.

  That evening when he arrived back at the living quarters, there was a letter from his mother lying on his bed.

  Dear Sam,

  I’m afraid I have bad news. Your father has taken a turn for the worse and the doctor says there is little chance he will pull through. We have tried everything, but nothing works. They can’t explain it.

  I know you are very busy with your training, and I am sorry to put this burden on you, but I knew you would want to know. The doctor says it may only be a matter of days before the sickness gets the better of him. I would come and get you myself so you could be here, but I’m afraid to leave your father’s side.

  If there is any way possible, please find a way to come home as soon as you can. I fear there is very little time.

  Love,

  Mom

  Sam read the letter over three times, but the meaning of it refused to sink in. The last time he had heard from his mother she had made it sound like his father would make a full recovery. Now it sounded like…

  It can’t be true, Sam thought. It has to be a joke.

  But his mother wasn’t the type to play jokes, let alone over something as serious as his father’s illness.

  Sam felt removed from the situation. It had been so long since he had seen his parents that he could barely remember what they looked like, and his first thought was a selfish one: if I leave now, will they let me come back?

  He was deeply ashamed. How could he be so detached from the situation? His father was dying…

  And all you can think about is yourself, Sam thought.

  He needed to find a way home. But how? He only had two gold pieces left to his name, and none of the horse-drawn wagons would take him as far as Lesser Spriggleford for less than seven. He considered borrowing gold from Curtis, but remembered that Curtis was broke until his parents sent him more, which wouldn’t be until next week.

  Sam thought long and hard. In the end, there was only one choice: he would ask Sarah if he could borrow the money. She would no doubt have the money; the last thing he wanted to do was ask for a handout, but he couldn’t allow his pride to stop him.

  It’s the only solution, Sam thought.

  Outside the window, sunset was coming. It would be dark before long. Sam plopped down on his bed, the letter clutched tightly in his hand. He stared at the ceiling. First thing in the morning, he thought. I’ll ask her at breakfast.

  “What’s eating you?” Curtis asked as he closed the lid of his trunk after tossing a biscuit he had squirreled away from the mess hall into it.

  “Nothing,” Sam said, closing his eyes and concentrating on keeping his dinner from coming back up.

  Curtis pointed to the letter in Sam’
s hand. “Bad news?”

  “Just…mind your own business, would you?”

  “Hey,” Curtis said. “What’s with the attitude? I was just asking you what’s wrong.”

  Sam sighed and opened his eyes. He propped himself up in bed. “My dad’s ill.”

  “I thought he was on the mend?”

  “I thought so too, but…”

  He handed the letter to Curtis. Curtis read it, his mouth dropping open by the time he finished it. “Sam, this is terrible news. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t have a choice,” Sam said. “I have to go home.”

  “But how?”

  “By wagon, I guess,” Sam said. “But I don’t have the money.”

  “You know I would loan you the money in a heartbeat, but…I’m flat broke.”

  “I know you would. I’m going to ask Sarah for it. I’ll have to do it before training in the morning. There’s no other way.”

  Curtis nodded. “Maybe you should talk to Alsted while you’re at it. I’m sure he’d understand given the circumstances.”

  “Good idea,” Sam said. “I think I’m going to get some sleep. Tomorrow could be a long day.”

  “I’m sorry about your dad, man.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” Sam said, laying his head back down on the pillow. He closed his eyes. Will it be fine? he wondered. He had never been less certain of anything in his entire life.

  Sam woke to a soft chirping sound. At first, he thought it was only part of his dream, but then he felt something sharp rake down his arm and his eyes popped open. He glanced over and saw a blurry shape sitting on the bed. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes and the blurriness had gone, he saw Woody next to him, chirping anxiously.