Mean Ghouls (2 page)

The ride to Zombie Academy was the longest two hours of Megan's life.

When she arrived at the front gate, the first thing she saw was a very cute boy her own age. He had dark skin, thick brown hair, and wore jeans with a white T-shirt and a sweater vest. The glassy look in his eyes might have been a symptom of zombitus, or it might have been that the boy just played a lot of video games. It was impossible for Megan to tell the difference.

For a moment Megan wondered if she was at the right school.

“Hi. I'm Sam,” the boy greeted her.

“Hi.” Megan went to shake his hand but as she touched him, his thumb fell off. It wasn't bloody or
gross. It simply dropped to the dirt like a loose button or a bit of lint.

“Oh, uh …” She grimaced, glancing between his four-fingered hand and the thumb. She had no clue what she should do. “I'm sorry,” Megan said at last.

“No problem.” Sam quickly picked his thumb up and blew off the dust. “I lose parts all the time. The nurse sews them back on for me. We've tried every kind of thread. Nothing holds very well.” He pulled a small Ziploc baggie out of his pocket and showed Megan his pinky toe. “Might as well get two digits done at the same time.” He put his thumb in the bag and then stuffed it into his pocket.

Sam thanked the limo driver. Megan hadn't looked at the man before; she'd only seen the back of his head while he drove. And now she was glad she hadn't looked. His head was barely attached to his neck. It kept lolling over to one side or the other. One of his eyes was hanging loosely from some kind of oozing stringy stuff. And though she hadn't noticed it from the backseat,
whew
, the guy stunk!

It was impossible to imagine how he'd driven the car safely. If her parents had seen him, they'd never have let Megan in the limo. No wonder he'd kept the tinted windows rolled up and shouted, “Get in!” to
Megan. She was glad to have arrived safely and relieved when the limo drove off, leaving her on the sidewalk with Sam.

While Sam got her suitcase, Megan grabbed her backpack. It was then that Megan finally took a good look around.

Zombie Academy was straight out of one of Zach's horror movies: a castle nestled among the trees, with a high fence and a huge iron gate surrounding the complex. Megan wondered if the gate kept healthy people out or the zombie kids in. She didn't really want to know the answer.

The castle itself was made of stone. It was pretty, but also a place you'd expect to be haunted. Or infested by the living dead. There was a tower on each side of the gate, and small slit windows. Megan thought she saw some girls peeking out of one of the windows, but when she squinted for a better look, they were gone.

“Come on,” Sam told Megan. “The outside of the school is kind of spooky, but the inside has been totally redone. A long time ago this millionaire, Lewis Jones, got the zombitus virus and decided to spend all his money looking for a cure. When other people got infected, he invited them to come to his
estate. Then, he went around the world to find known zombies and invited them to come here, too. Mr. Jones pays for everything.” Sam added, “Of course, once the researchers find the antidote, the deal is he gets the first shot.”

“What about the other Zombie Academies?” Megan asked.

“Yep, he built those, too,” Sam said. “You'll meet Mr. Jones later. He's like a grandfather to everyone who lives here.”

Sam let Megan in through the gate, then locked it behind her.

She gave him a puzzled look.

“I've been here a long time,” he explained. “I like to help out. When I heard you were coming, I offered to come meet you. There's no one who knows their way around this place better than me. Except Mr. Jones, of course.” Sam led her into the main part of the castle. “So, Megan Murry, welcome to Zombie Academy.”

“Whoa.” Megan was amazed. The interior of the building really didn't match the outside. The halls were filled with beautiful museum-quality paintings and sculptures, modern lighting, leafy tropical plants, and, in the middle of the entry, a glass elevator that
led to the higher floors. It reminded Megan of a hotel her family had stayed at on a vacation to Hawaii once. There was even a small waterfall flowing into a koi pond.

“Come on.” Sam set his four-fingered hand on Megan's back and led her into the elevator. “Level five is the dormitory. I'll show you your room. Then you need to check in at the nurse's office. She'll give you your class schedule.” He patted his pocket. “We can go together.”

 

“The girls in the dorm room next to yours are mean. Really mean.” Sam grimaced as they walked by a purple-painted door decorated with three cutout gold stars. Each star had a name on it: Brooke. Betsy. Brenda.

“‘Zom-Bs,'”
Megan read the big letters printed above the names.

“My advice,” Sam said, “is to ignore them. Fly under their radar. The Bs are nasty.”

Megan thought about Brett's sister, Hailey Hansen, and her gang of mean girls. “Gotcha,” Megan told Sam. “I know girls like that at home.”

“We all do,” Sam said with a sigh.

He knocked on a plain brown wooden door. “Home, sweet home.”

The girl who answered the door wore a black dress with black shoes and tights. Her hair was dyed black. Her eyeliner was black and so was her eye shadow. Even her lipstick was black. She looked like a vampire, not like someone with zombitus.

“Hey-ya, Happy,” Sam said as if the girl's appearance was totally normal. “Do any painting today?”

Happy didn't seem very happy. She sulked across the room and turned an easel to show Sam a fresh canvas.

“Finished it,” she said in a voice that sounded like Eeyore from
Winnie the Pooh
.

The painting was, well, black. Completely black to the edges of the canvas.

“Wow!” Sam exclaimed. “That's one of your best!”

Happy moaned. “It's not very good.”

Sam turned to Megan. “Picasso had his blue stage. Happy's in a darker phase.”

“I call this one
Midnight
,” Happy explained.

Megan could see how the title fit. “It's … pretty,” she said.

“Thanks,” Happy muttered, stepping away from the canvas. She pointed to a twin bed on the other
side of the room. “That's yours. The mattress is lumpy.”

Megan could have guessed which bed was hers. It had white sheets and yellow covers, whereas the other bed … all black.

“I'm sure it will be comfortable,” Megan said, trying to stay upbeat.

“No,” Happy replied. “It won't.”

Megan let out a huge sigh. She assured herself everything would be okay. Zach had told her that zombies didn't sleep much, anyway.

“Well,” Sam said, “you two can get to know each other later. Megan and I have an appointment with Nurse Karen.”

“Nice to meet you,” Happy said in a way that made Megan think she didn't mean it.

“Yeah,” Megan replied. Happy wasn't anything like Rachel, but Megan didn't have any friends at Zombie Academy. She needed to be nice to Happy. Maybe there was a smile hidden under all that dark face paint. “Want to have lunch together?” Megan asked.

Happy pinched her lips, considering Megan's invitation. “Okay. But the cafeteria food isn't like what you're used to at home.”

Megan knew about moldy fruit already, but had a pressing question. “We don't really have to eat brains, do we?”

“On Mondays they serve last year's vegetables,” Happy said. “I'll meet you in the dining room at noon.”

Spoiled vegetables. That wasn't too bad. And yet, Megan was left to wonder what was on the menu for Tuesday.

“I like Happy,” Sam told Megan as they walked back to the elevator for a trip to the second floor. “Unfortunate name, though.”

Megan gave a small laugh. She hoped Sam would be her friend, too.

The nurse's office was in the same long hallway as most of the classrooms. The waiting room was packed. There was a boy of about six whose eyeball had fallen out during first-grade circle time. The kids in the classroom were still looking for it. Next to him sat a teenage girl whose teeth had suddenly sharpened overnight. She'd accidentally bitten her tongue. Three other kids had gashes that were oozing thick, goopy blood.

In the corner, Megan spotted a teacher. She was young, blond, and very pretty. Megan noticed that her legs were locked straight, forcing her to lean against the wall like a wooden plank.

“Mine were like that,” Megan said. “But they got better.” She smiled encouragingly.

“I've been like this for a week,” the teacher replied. “My knees won't bend, no matter how hard I try.”

Megan shivered. She looked around the room and wondered if this was her future. Would Brett talk to her if she had to carry her eyeball around in a Baggie? Would Rachel want to hang out if Megan had those razor-sharp teeth? What if she could never, ever, play soccer again?

As if he knew what she was thinking, Sam leaned over and whispered, “Transformation happens very, very slowly. Bit by bit. It takes centuries to become a full zombie.”

That was supposed to make Megan feel better, but it didn't. “Centuries?” she gasped.

“You're immortal now,” Sam told her. “Didn't anyone tell you that?”

She thought back to the things that she knew about zombies. She didn't recall Zach saying that
she'd live forever. It wasn't on the websites she'd looked at either.

Megan would be twelve years old from now on. With no real friends at her new school, that didn't sound so good.

“That's not going to happen!” Megan said. “I'm not going to be immortal, because Mr. Jones and his researchers are looking for a cure. I'll be home in a few weeks. Maybe a month, right?”

Sam got a distant look in those glassy eyes and said, “Sure, Megan. You'll be going home soon.”

“Hang on, Sam. How long have you —” Megan began to ask but was interrupted by the nurse calling her name. Her questions would have to wait.

She gave Sam a long last stare, then went into the examination room with Nurse Karen.

The nurse was a fully transformed zombie. No question about that. Her green eyes were glued open, her cheeks sunken. Megan tried not to stare at the double row of shark-sharp teeth that gleamed at her.

Everyone at the school had the disease, but it was like Sam said — there were different stages of transformation.

The nurse had Megan do a few jumping jacks and some squats. Then she had her read a page
from a college textbook aloud and answer some questions.

Megan felt like she did okay. She moaned between every paragraph, but otherwise she read the text just fine. It was about cars, and since her dad was a car salesman, she had an advantage and answered the questions easily.

Next Nurse Karen asked Megan to count to one hundred. No problem.

And then, she asked the exact same reading comprehension questions again.

This time the questions were harder to answer. Megan felt like she'd read the passage a long time ago, and struggled to remember what it said.

“Good work,” Nurse Karen said after Megan finished. She took out a graph that charted the zombie transformation time line and held it up. Megan noticed that Nurse Karen's fingernails were bruised black-and-blue. “So, here's where you are.” She pointed to the very beginning of the chart and traced an arrow with one finger. “And here's a zombie.” Megan wanted to plug her ears and run away, but she took a deep breath and listened.

“Decay happens slowly, and you're still at the very beginning of the process.”

That seemed like good news.

“Do you want me to describe what you might expect over the next couple hundred years?” Nurse Karen asked.

“No!” Megan said so quickly she thought she sounded rude. “I mean, I saw the kids in the waiting room. I've got an idea of what will happen.”

Nurse Karen nodded and handed Megan a white slip of wrinkled, torn paper that had her schedule on it. “Sam will escort you today. He's in many of your classes.” The nurse also gave Megan a spiral notebook with
ZOMBIE ACADEMY
printed in bright red letters across the front.

“Thanks,” Megan said. Dana Point Middle School didn't give out notebooks for free. The students had to buy them.

“This will help you remember things,” the nurse explained. “I encourage all my patients to write
everything
down.” She gave Megan a whole box of new pens.

“Oh,” Megan said, handing back the spiral. “I don't need a notebook. I have a good memory.”

“Trust me. You'll need it.” Nurse Karen opened a drawer. Inside there were laptops, phones, electronic organizers, and used notebooks. “Memory loss is a side effect of the transformation,” she said. “Hang on
to the notebook. Everyone seems to forget their things around here.”

“Got it,” Megan said, thinking about what happened with the reading comprehension questions. She took the notebook. “I'll write everything down.” Megan gave Nurse Karen a small smile, even though she felt like screaming.

Nurse Karen also offered a warning. “Try your best to stay calm, Megan. Zombitus transformation happens more quickly when you're emotional. You should avoid getting upset or angry if you can.”

Megan nodded. “Got it,” she said again. “Nurse Karen?” There was one last thing Megan needed to know. She'd keep asking it over and over until someone gave her the answer. “When are they going to find a zombitus cure?”

Nurse Karen acted as if she hadn't heard the question. “Can you please send Sam in? I think we'll try superglue on him this time.”

 

Megan was sitting on a bench in the waiting room next to a girl who couldn't stop moaning, when Sam came out of Nurse Karen's exam room. Megan jumped up. “What's the deal with the cure?”

Sam wiggled his thumb, checking it. “I don't —” he started.

“Tell me the truth,” Megan barreled on. “I thought I was only going to be here a little while. The doctors are working on a cure, right?”

“Yes. They are,” Sam said softly, taking Megan's elbow and hustling her out of the waiting room. “Are you sure you want to know?”

Megan thought that was an odd question. “Of course I do,” she replied.

Sam nodded. “A few days ago, Mr. Jones announced that they'd found a zombitus cure.”

Megan was thrilled. This was great news. She'd be home even sooner than she thought. “So where is it? When can I get some?”

Sam led Megan down the hall. “Trials are starting next week.”

He didn't seem nearly as happy about it as Megan would have expected. She also wondered why the nurse hadn't mentioned it when Megan asked, but
WHATEVER
!

“So I'll only be here a little while more?” It was terrific news! The best!

“Mr. Jones gets first stab,” Sam said, not even
smiling at his own pun. “Then I suppose they'll start with the kids who have been here the longest.”

That meant Sam would get his really soon. Why wasn't he jumping up and down? Megan sure felt like she wanted to.

Her arms suddenly popped out in front of her in a traditional zombie walking pose. It only lasted a second. That was a new symptom.

Megan rubbed her elbows and said, “I'm the newest, so I'll be last.” She thought about it some more and declared, “Last is better than never.”

“I guess.” Sam stepped into the classroom. “But while we're waiting to be cured, we have math class.”