Josh listened as Veda Churling told them about the formation of the Martian Sea, then as Peter Prieboy gave a rambling account of the meteor strike that had created the Vargas Canyon. None of it was very interesting, and Josh found his thoughts wandering. He hoped the recorder built into his NoteTaker had caught everything, but he doubted it. It had been acting up lately, and he hadn’t had time to fix it.
Finally it was Firecracker’s turn. He went to the front of the room and started talking. As promised, he had made holographic maps to illustrate the changes taking place in Antarctica and how the resulting rise in water levels was affecting the rest of the earth. This was followed by an animation showing the Antarctic Conflict waged by the seven countries claiming territorial rights to the area, and the ultimate creation of a protected world park there.
When Firecracker was done, the class applauded. Firecracker took a deep bow, waving to his audience and hamming it up. Josh couldn’t help but laugh. They were going to get a great grade, he just knew it.
With the presentations over, Ms. Darjeeling resumed control of the class. “I have to say, I’m very impressed with your work on these projects,” she told them. “I’m sending your grades to your NoteTakers. If you have any questions about them, please see me after class.”
She punched a sequence of numbers into the control panel on her desk, and all around the room NoteTakers made the chiming sound that indicated the arrival of a transmission. Josh clicked on his message box and looked for his grade.
When he saw it, his heart skipped a beat. He’d expected a B-plus or at worst a B. He’d gotten a D.
“I got an A,” Firecracker said. “Score one for me. What did you get?”
“Not an A,” Josh said.
Firecracker looked at Josh’s screen. “A D?” he said loudly enough for several people to look over at them. “Our final grade is based on both our scores. That means we’re getting a …”
“C-plus,” said Josh as Firecracker tried to figure out the answer in his head.
“A C-plus,” Firecracker agreed.
“A C-plus isn’t that bad,” said Josh, trying to reassure his friend.
“It’s not an A,” Firecracker shot back.
“I’m sorry,” said Josh. “I don’t know what happened. I thought I did an okay job.”
“Yeah, well, apparently you didn’t,” Firecracker said, slumping in his seat. “Thanks a lot, partner.”
“I’m sorry,” Josh said again. But Firecracker wouldn’t even look at him.
9
“What’s the matter, cowboy?”
Josh looked up. Charlie was standing in front of him on the train. “What are you doing here?” he asked her, looking around.
“Relax,” Charlie said. “Your friend isn’t here.”
“Did you follow me?” Josh said.
Charlie smiled. “Why would I do that?” she replied. She took the seat next to Josh. “Okay, maybe I did. But I’m not stalking you or anything. I just wanted to see if you could come over tonight.”
“Come over?” Josh repeated.
“To my house,” Charlie clarified. “I thought we could go over the maps for tomorrow.”
Josh shook his head. “I can’t,” he said. “Tonight is family night.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Family night,” she said. “Sounds fun.”
“Yeah. Well.” Josh shrugged. He didn’t want to tell Charlie he was actually looking forward to mini golf. Or at least he had been, until he’d gotten the grade on his report. Now he didn’t really feel like doing anything.
“This is a big game for you,” Charlie reminded him. “And Location Four isn’t the easiest field to play. Are you sure you’re ready?”
Josh started to assure her that he was, but found himself saying, “Actually, no. I’m not sure at all. I tried to memorize the maps last night, but I had to do this report for school, and it got late and—”
“You’re coming over,” Charlie interrupted him. “Just tell your parents you have to do something else tonight.”
“Like what?” said Josh.
Charlie thought for a moment, biting her lip and frowning. “Tell them you’re volunteering for something,” she said. “Tonight is orientation, and tomorrow is your first day. That gives you an out for both days. And whenever we have a game, you can say you have to volunteer.”
“I don’t know,” Josh hedged. “I don’t think they’d buy it.”
“Tell them it’s for school credit,” said Charlie.
Josh thought about it. “That might work,” he agreed. “But I need to think of a realistic group to volunteer for.”
“The homeless,” said Charlie. “You’re helping the homeless. That’s perfect. You can tell them the group works all over the city; that way they won’t ever expect you to be in any one place.”
Josh knew Charlie was right that he was going to need a good excuse for spending time away from home. He took a deep breath, then dialed his mother’s number at work and told her what he was supposedly doing.
“That went well,” Charlie remarked when Josh ended the call.
“I lucked out,” said Josh. “She was distracted. One of the gryphons bit someone.”
“Gryphons?” Charlie said.
“She’s a biologist,” Josh explained. “A cloner. She makes imaginary animals. I mean she makes imaginary animals real.”
“I get it,” said Charlie. “Cool. What does your dad do?”
“He’s a doctor too,” said Josh. “The normal kind. You know, shots and checkups and stuff.”
“Wow,” Charlie said. “Two brainiacs for parents. Did you inherit their superbrains?”
Josh laughed. “Not so much,” he said. “My sister Emily is the smart one. She’s actually scary smart. I’m pretty good at a lot of things, but not super good at any of them.”
“Except torching,” Charlie reminded him.
“Except that,” Josh agreed. “So what do your parents—”
“This is our stop,” said Charlie, interrupting. She stood up as the doors opened, and she and Josh hopped off. Charlie pointed to a train on the other side of the platform. “Come on,” she said. “That’s the one we want.”
The second train took them diagonally across the city, going underground for most of the way and then emerging into daylight and climbing up onto the elevated tracks. Below them Josh saw the squat, brown brick houses of Old Town. The steel supports of the elevated train stuck up like the legs of giant birds from the tangle of homes.
Old Town occupied the northeast corner of the city. Most of the houses were the original ones built hundreds of years before by the settlers who discovered the land. They were all built with bricks made from local clay, which gave them their brown color. Josh had been there a few times, mainly to visit the Museum of City History on school trips. But he didn’t know anyone who lived there.
“Here we are,” Charlie said as the train came to a stop. They exited onto a platform high above the street and headed for the stairs.
They walked to Charlie’s house, passing lots of cafes where people sat drinking, smoking, and talking loudly. Then they turned a corner and came to a house that looked just like all the other houses in the neighborhood, with one notable difference; the front gate was made of wrought iron and topped with a big black bird whose eyes—made of copper—seemed to stare at Josh menacingly.
“My dad made it,” Charlie said, as if she was used to explaining the bird. “He’s a sculptor. Iron, mostly.”
“It’s cool,” Josh said, but the truth was that he found the bird more than a little creepy.
They went up a short flight of steps to the front door, and as they stepped inside Charlie called out, “Dad?”
There was no answer.
“Come up to my room,” Charlie said, heading for a set of stairs.
Josh followed her. The wood of the stairs was old and well worn. Centuries of use had made the wood smooth, and there were deeper indentations in the center of ea
ch step where people had most often placed their feet.
“This is my dad’s studio,” Charlie said as they arrived at the second floor. It was one huge space, with bare brick walls and a floor covered with white canvas cloths. A workbench cluttered with tools lined one wall, and in the center of the room stood a sculpture made of bits and pieces of metal, all welded together to form what looked like a human figure. But something was wrong with it. It was twisted, the arms seeming to reach out to grab something.
“My bedroom is on the third floor,” Charlie said, walking past the sculpture without looking at it. They went up another flight of stairs and down a hallway. “That’s my dad’s room,” Charlie said as they passed a closed door. “This is mine.” She opened a door on the opposite side of the hall and went inside. The room also had bare brick walls, and at one end, farthest from the windows, a huge bed made out of iron stood against the wall.
“Another of my dad’s creations,” said Charlie. She went to a console on the wall, pressed some buttons, and music began to play. It was a song Josh had never heard, with lots of loud guitars and wild drumming.
“What is this?”
“It’s old,” Charlie said. “A band my grandmother used to listen to called the New York Dolls. I’m kind of into it.” She danced around as the music played, throwing her head from side to side. “Sorry,” she said, falling on the bed. “You must think I’m nuts.”
“No,” Josh said, laughing. “I think you’re cute.” Immediately he realized what he’d said. “I mean, um, we should go over the maps,” he said quickly.
“Did you just say you think I’m cute?” Charlie asked.
“No,” Josh said.
“So you don’t think I’m cute?” asked Charlie.
“No,” Josh replied. “I mean, yeah. But I didn’t mean it to come out that way.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I think you’re cute too.”
Before Josh could respond, Charlie jumped up. “Stay here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
Josh felt his cheeks flush as he tried to process what had just happened. He did think Charlie was cute, but he hadn’t meant to tell her that. It had just slipped out, and now he couldn’t take it back. Now what? he thought.
Charlie returned to the room carrying a box. She brought it to the bed and set it down. It was made of black metal, and the surface was scratched and dented. In the center of the top was a logo Josh recognized at once—a simple circle with flames in it.
“That’s the Torcher symbol,” he said.
Charlie nodded. “My dad was a Torcher,” she told him as she lifted the lid. “He kept some stuff.”
She reached into the box and pulled out a small cyphoto album. Starting it up, she showed Josh the screen. On it was a photo of seven men all wearing Torcher uniforms. They grinned happily at the camera.
“That’s his squad,” Charlie said.
“Which one is your dad?” Josh asked.
Charlie pointed to a short man with black hair. He was the only one not smiling. “There,” she said.
She scrolled through the pictures. Mostly they were of the men from the first photograph. Then they came to a picture showing a beautiful woman. She was leaning against a railing. Behind her Josh could see the tracks of a roller coaster, and to one side three little kids ran by in a blur, balloons bobbing on the strings in their hands. The woman was holding a cone of bright pink cotton candy.
“That’s my mom,” Charlie said.
“That roller coaster looks familiar,” said Josh.
“It’s Happy Time,” Charlie said quietly. “My dad took her there when he asked her to marry him.” She stared at the picture for a long time without saying anything.
“What happened to her?” Josh asked finally.
Charlie turned the album off. “She died,” she said. She put the album back in the box and took out something else. It was a medal. “My dad got this for torching a thousand z’s,” she said, handing it to Josh. “Isn’t it cool?”
Josh examined the medal. It was round, and in the center was the Torcher logo. Beneath it was the Torcher motto: SAVED BY FIRE.
“He must have saved a lot of people,” Josh said, impressed.
“You mean zombies,” Charlie countered.
Josh looked at her, not understanding.
“Think about it,” said Charlie. “Zombies used to be people. By killing them, the Torchers saved them from having to be monsters.”
“I always thought that by the time z’s turned they were pretty much not human anymore,” Josh said.
“You don’t know that,” Charlie said, her voice oddly sharp. “Nobody really knows.” She took the medal back and returned it to the box.
“Can I ask you something?” Josh said.
Charlie nodded.
“How come when you play the hologame, you always play a meatbag?”
“It’s good training,” said Charlie. “It helps me learn to think like a zombie, so when I play the game for real I get inside their heads.”
“I don’t think I want to be in a head like that,” Josh told her.
Charlie looked at him. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,” she said. “You might even like it.”
Charlie got up and walked to her dresser. Opening the top drawer, she rooted around and pulled something out. When she came back, Josh saw that she was holding a small silver vial.
“What is that?” he asked.
Charlie unscrewed the top of the vial and poured two small, white tablets into her palm. “This,” Charlie said, “is Z. It’s something that will help you think like a zombie. At least for a little while. I take it whenever I’m playing the game.”
Josh eyed the pills doubtfully. “I don’t do drugs,” he said.
“Don’t worry,” Charlie said. “It’s totally safe. It’s not a drug drug.” She took one of the pills and put it in her mouth. She swallowed and stuck out her tongue. “See? Now it’s your turn.”
She handed Josh the second pill. He held it between his fingers, looking at it. Was it really safe? What was it going to do to him? He looked at Charlie, who laughed. “Come on,” she said. “You won’t regret it.”
That’s what they all say, Josh thought. Right before you do something stupid. But he had to admit, he was curious. Also, he didn’t want Charlie to think he was afraid.
“It will make me think like a zombie?” he asked.
Charlie nodded.
“And that’s a good thing?”
“Just trust me,” said Charlie. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever done.”
Josh looked at her face. She was grinning. How bad can it be? he thought. Before he could answer that question, he put the pill in his mouth and swallowed.
10
“Josh! Dinner!”
Josh closed his eyes. He wasn’t really in the mood to be with his family, but he had no choice. He’d come home early from Charlie’s, totally forgetting that he wasn’t supposed to be done with his fake meeting until eight. When he walked in, his parents and Emily were there. The mini-golf place had been closed for renovations, so they’d come home to have dinner and play some board games.
They were all happy to see him, but he wished he were anywhere else but there. I should have stayed at Charlie’s, he thought. But Charlie had homework to do. She’d promised to call later to see how he was doing. “In the meantime,” she’d said, “just go with it.”
He’d started to feel weird on the train ride home. It wasn’t anything he could put his finger on. He just started to feel kind of … fuzzy. The feeling had grown stronger, and now he felt slightly nauseated. The last thing he wanted to do was eat.
At the same time, though, he was starving. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, but now he was acutely aware of the rumbling in his stomach. It felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
He checked his face one more time. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he left his room and went downstairs. His father was standing at the stove. The
grill in the center of the range was lit, and the smoke from it was being sucked up into the silver hood that covered the stove.
“You’re just in time,” said Josh’s father as he placed one of the steaks on the grill. It sizzled as it touched the hot metal.
Josh looked at the cooking meat, and his mouth began to water as the smell filled his nose. The scent was incredibly strong—blood and fat and meat mingled together. He swallowed hard, tasting it in his throat.
“How would you like your steak prepared this evening, sir?” his father asked him. “Medium or well done?”
“Rare,” Josh answered. “Almost raw.”
His father looked at him with a surprised expression. “You sure?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” said Josh.
“You’re the boss,” his father said as he laid two other steaks on the grill.
He poked the steaks with a fork. Juice ran from the holes and fell onto the grill, popping and hissing. Each crackle released another burst of the meaty smell, making Josh swallow hard as he imagined putting the meat in his mouth and chewing it. He had to force himself not to snatch the remaining raw steak from the plate and start gnawing on it.
It must be the Z, he realized. It’s working.
Charlie had told him that the drug made you feel wild. Now Josh understood what she meant. He did feel wild, almost animal-like. He could still think, but another part of him was growing more powerful by the minute, a part he had never experienced so clearly before. He felt his heart racing.
“Here, you take over.”
Someone was speaking to him. Josh looked at the speaker, and for a moment he couldn’t tell who it was. He saw a faceless body, a body that coursed with blood and smelled the same as the meat on the grill. Then his vision cleared, and he realized that he was looking at his father. He was holding the meat fork out to Josh.
“Oh,” Josh said, trying to remember where he was. “Yeah. I’ll do it.” He took the fork from his father and went to stand in front of the grill.
“I’m going to go help your mother set the table,” his father said. “Let those cook another couple of minutes, then turn them over. Put your steak on when you flip those, and turn it after two minutes.”
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