Authors: Mo O'Hara
The Sea-Quel
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To my amazing agent, Gemma Cooperâthis fish wouldn't be here without you. Thank you for believing in Frankie and in me.
CONTENTS
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The Mystery of the Zombie Vacation
To Be a Zombie Or Not to Be a Zombie ⦠That is the Question
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THE MYSTERY OF THE ZOMBIE VACATION
CHAPTER 1
THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD
Pradeep looked even greener than Frankie's zombie goldfish eyes as we sat in the back of my dad's car. And every time Dad screeched round another bend, Pradeep turned a deeper shade of green. We were on our way to the vacation place that Dad had booked. Usually only Dad, my Evil Scientist big brother Mark, Pradeep's dad and his evil computer-genius big brother Sanj went on the Big Summer Weekend. But this year Sanj was at computer camp, and for the first time Dad said me and Pradeep were old enough to come. Nothing was going to wreck this weekend!
Not Pradeep, who was just about to hurl for the fifth time in four hours (I could tell because he had that surprised look on his face again). Not Sami, Pradeep's three-year-old sister, who had to come with us because as soon as our moms heard Pradeep and I were going away too, they booked themselves on a Massage and Mud Pack weekend. (Which I didn't understand at all. Moms hate mud on your shoes. They
really
hate mud on the living room carpet. But apparently they love it on their faces. Who knew?) This weekend wouldn't even be ruined by Mark not saying a word to me since he found out that Pradeep, Sami, and I were coming. If only he wouldn't thump me too, then it would be perfect.
“Bag,” Pradeep mumbled as we went over a bump in the road.
“Bag,” I said to Sami as she bounced in her car seat next to me. She passed me one of the stack of airplane sick bags that Pradeep's mom had packed for him for the journey. I unfolded it and passed it to Pradeep. Pradeep's mom gets these super-strong sick bags off the Internet because they can hold loads without breaking. They make the best splat bombs ever 'cause they never burst until they hit their target. It seemed a shame to waste them on actual car sickness. But a kid's gotta do what a kid's gotta do.
“Bleeech!” Pradeep filled the sick bag and then stared out the window.
“Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” Sami sang from her seat.
Dad looked straight ahead at the winding road. “About twenty minutes maybe,” he said.
Pradeep's dad was looking at his smartphone. “It's 13.2 miles exactly to the destination.” Pradeep's dad could get a job as one of those GPS things in cars. He's got the perfect voice for it. You would totally believe that he knew where he was going, even if he didn't. I don't think he would fit on the dashboard though.
“If you look toward the sea, you can see the lighthouse from here,” Dad said.
Pradeep, Sami, and I all craned our necks to look. The lighthouse was tall and white like a swirly whipped vanilla ice-cream cone sticking up out of the sea. That is, if swirly whipped vanilla ice-cream cones had giant lights at the top of them. It jutted out into the bay so the water lapped against it.
Mark sat slumped in the back of the car behind us, flicking through
Evil Scientist
magazine. This month's cover feature was called “How to Take Over the World in Ten Easy Steps.” He had his earbuds in and didn't even look up when Dad spoke.
“It's awesome, Mark. An actual lighthouse,” I said to him.
Mark shot me an evil glare. “There is nothing awesome about this moron-fest vacation.” He pulled his hood up over his head. “You losers have made this the lamest trip ever.”
The cooler that was under Sami's feet started shaking. I lifted the lid to investigate. The eyes of Frankie, my zombie goldfish, glowed green as he batted cans of Coke against the sides of the cooler with his fins. He must have heard Mark's voice and gone all zombie mega-thrash fish. He still held a grudge against my brother for trying to murder him with his Evil Scientist toxic gunk. Luckily, Pradeep and I shocked Frankie back to life with a battery, and ever since, he's been our friend and fishy bodyguard. I hoped Frankie would calm down soon.
“Swishy fish!” Sami shouted.
I put my finger to my lips and turned to Sami. “Shhhhhh!”
“What was that, precious?” asked Pradeep's dad.
“Uh, I think she's just excited about seeing fish in the sea,” I said, covering for her.
Sami giggled and I carefully closed the lid of the cooler. Safe for now.
As Pradeep and I looked out the window, we saw a thick layer of fog hanging over the lighthouse, wrapping itself around a barely visible sign. I squinted to read it.
WELCOME TO EEL BAY
, it said in big letters, and then in smaller print that looked like it was painted on just yesterday,
DON'T FEED THE EELS! ESPECIALLY THE EVIL ONE!
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CHAPTER 2
THE EVIL EEL OF EEL BAY
Pradeep was still green, but he gave me a look that said, “That sign said there was an evil eel? Why is it everywhere we go there is something evil?” At the same time, his mouth was saying, “Next bag.”
I totally understood the look and shot him one that said, “We so have to find out about that,” while I passed him the bag. Who says kids can't multitask?
We pulled up outside the lighthouse just as it was starting to get dark. The beacon in the lighthouse tower glowed through the fog and made the place look like the set of some old scary movie. Goose bumps spread over my arms, and I got that creepy feeling of millipedes wriggling awake in my stomach.
Pradeep looked less green as soon as he got out of the car. He unloaded the row of sick bags at his feet into the garbage can by the driveway. Sami jumped down and ran over to her dad.
“Want to see the sea!” she squealed.
“Not tonight, precious,” Pradeep's dad said, scooping her up on to his shoulders. “Tomorrow the sea. Tonightâdinner, then bed.”
Mark slid out of the car and looked around. “Stupid lighthouse.” He looked at me and Pradeep. “Stupid morons. Stupid vacation.”
I jumped out of the car, and Pradeep and I pulled out the cooler.
“Come on, Mark,” Dad said. Dad hadn't figured out yet that trying to get Mark excited about anything that wasn't evil was basically a lost cause. “It'll be fun. We'll go fishing tomorrow.”
The cooler started shaking again. I put my foot on it to try to stop it. It looked like I was tapping my foot to the beat of some random imaginary song.
“I, um, don't think I want to catch fish, Dad,” I said.
“If you don't help catch them, you can't eat them. That's the rule on these vacations, isn't it, Mark?”
Mark nodded but glared. He was not going to forgive us for coming on his and Dad's annual weekend away.
“But I don't want to eat any fish,” I said loud enough for Frankie to hear through the cooler.
“I've decided to become a pescatarian,” Pradeep announced, “so I won't eat fish either.”
“Pescatarians eat fish, but not other meat,” Pradeep's dad said.
“Then I'll be whatever it is that doesn't eat fish,” Pradeep said. “An anti-pescatarian?”
“OK. More fish for us then, right, Baskhar?” my dad said to Pradeep's father.
The cooler stopped shaking. Then I heard a voice that made
me
start shaking.
“You the city folk then?” The gravelly mumble came from the doorway of the lighthouse.
A man stepped forward so we could see him. Or he stepped forward so he could see us better in the fading light. Or he stumbled out because one foot had decided that it would walk but hadn't got around to telling the other foot yet. I think it was mostly the third option.
