You Are So Undead to Me (12 page)
He was after Ethan, not me. But why? And why had someone stolen my homecoming dress from the cleaners and dressed a corpse in it before . . .
The truth hit me just as Ethan lifted his hands and cast. “
Exuro!”
The zombie burned brighter and brighter, and then suddenly the fire went out and the charred remains of the RC fluttered to the ground. Ethan did a quick scan of the area, then whipped his phone out of his pocket. He was probably calling Settlers’ Affairs, a phone call I didn’t want to miss a second of overhearing.
Exuro!”
The zombie burned brighter and brighter, and then suddenly the fire went out and the charred remains of the RC fluttered to the ground. Ethan did a quick scan of the area, then whipped his phone out of his pocket. He was probably calling Settlers’ Affairs, a phone call I didn’t want to miss a second of overhearing.
I grabbed my bag and rocketed out of the car, running around to Ethan even as he gestured wildly for me to get in the house. As if. He might be my tutor and bodyguard and fake boyfriend, but he was
not
my father. The sooner he got that through his head the better, especially considering I had vital information he would want to tell the people at SA right away.
not
my father. The sooner he got that through his head the better, especially considering I had vital information he would want to tell the people at SA right away.
“Yes, I can hold, but it’s urgent,” he said to someone on the other line before turning back to me. “Get inside, Megan.”
“No.”
“Yes. Now. Or I’ll hang up this phone and go lock you in your room before—”
“You do and I’ll call the police and report you. This is the twenty-first century: You can’t get away with kidnapping women and locking them—”
“You’re not a woman, you’re a kid, and—”
“Wait! I know why someone’s after me. I can help,” I said, holding up my hands and backing away as Ethan took a menacing step toward me. So much for the women’s lib argument. What a chauvinist jerk.
“Talk. Fast,” he said while I did my best not to break into a victory dance. Those two words had just confirmed the fact that someone was after me. Some Settler cop he was, getting outsmarted by a fifteen-year-old.
“Someone doesn’t want me to go to homecoming. They’re trying to make sure I don’t go to the dance,” I said, waiting for Ethan to work through the same logic that had brought me to this conclusion and congratulate me on my brilliance.
Instead, he started to laugh. “Right. Okay, I’ll be sure to share your theory. Now get—”
“It’s not a theory, it’s the truth,” I said, getting angry. “That zombie was wearing my homecoming dress. Why would someone go to all the trouble to steal the dress from the cleaners and put it on a corpse unless they were trying to send me a message about homecoming?”
“Megan, please—”
“
And
that thing was after you, not me. It stopped trying to get into the car when you got out.”
And
that thing was after you, not me. It stopped trying to get into the car when you got out.”
“So?”
“So,” I said, my tone making it clear
he
was the one with very little brain, “you said you were taking me to homecoming. Whoever doesn’t want me at the dance must have found out and decided to eliminate my date and my dress at the same time.”
he
was the one with very little brain, “you said you were taking me to homecoming. Whoever doesn’t want me at the dance must have found out and decided to eliminate my date and my dress at the same time.”
“But I just said I was taking you like an hour ago,” he said, still looking incredulous but at least not flat-out denying my argument.
“Right in front of Monica and London, the biggest gossips in school. I’m sure they were on their cells sharing the news with half the senior class before we even got to Sonic.” I bit my lip and turned to pace around the lawn, not quite ready to share my sneaking suspicion that Monica might have something to do with the RCs. I’d need concrete proof before I went there with Ethan since he and the Monicster had been friends forever. “Speaking of, anyone who saw us together at Sonic could be a suspect, assuming they can make a totem doll fairly quickly. Or if they had a picture of you or a possession of yours to use. Probably the doll since you don’t know that many—”
“Megan, I can appreciate your logic, but isn’t raising flesh-eating corpses to keep you from going to homecoming a little extreme?”
“It’s not extreme. It’s flat-out crazy, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” I said, watching his expression waver between patronizing and contemplative before whipping out my ace. “Especially considering the RCs last night were after Josh.”
“How did you know that?” he asked, looking really angry. “Did your mom—”
“Mom didn’t tell me anything—you just did,” I said, doing my best to keep my satisfied smile from my face. “Half the school knew that Josh and I were going out last night and that he didn’t have a date for the dance. Someone wanted to make sure he didn’t get one, at least not if that date was going to be me.”
Ethan chewed his bottom lip for a second, then slowly snapped the phone shut.
“What? Aren’t you going to tell SA about—”
“I’m going to tell them, but I’d better do it in person. They’re never going to believe this could all be about some high school dance.” He sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m still not sure I believe it, but I have to admit it makes sense. They found pieces of a football jersey on the two graves last night. When they searched the boys’ locker room this morning, the number fifteen jersey was missing.”
“That’s Josh’s jersey!” My stomach started churning big-time. Hearing the hard evidence that Josh had been the target made it all so much more real.
“But there are other things going on. Things I can’t tell you about that make this more complicated. If it were just these two attacks, I would say you were completely right, but—”
“There have been more attacks? Is that what happened at the football field? Was someone attacked by—”
“Uh-uh, no way. You’ve already tricked me into saying more than I wanted to.” He took me by the shoulders and turned me toward my front door. “Go inside and get something to clean up these ashes. I’ll take them with me to headquarters.”
“Okay” I sighed, knowing I’d won as much information from Ethan as I was going to get. For now. Might as well satisfy my non-homecoming-plot-related curiosity. “I didn’t know RCs could be destroyed by fire. I thought you had to send them back to their Maker. That only the blood of the one who raised them could make them go back to their grave.”
“It’s not destroyed,” Ethan said, turning to point to the ground, where the ashes were starting to look more solid. “In an hour or two, it will regenerate enough to start attacking things again.”
“No way.” Whoa, that was twisted. Black magic was some seriously warped stuff.
“Yes way. I’ll work the
reverto
spell on it when it reconstitutes. I just couldn’t send it back to its grave on fire. People usually won’t notice a zombie running back to its Maker, but they will notice a streaking fireball.”
reverto
spell on it when it reconstitutes. I just couldn’t send it back to its grave on fire. People usually won’t notice a zombie running back to its Maker, but they will notice a streaking fireball.”
“Makes sense,” I said, turning back to the house before spinning around again. “So, would you want to use the fire spell if there were a whole bunch of RCs raised at once? I know the
reverto
spell won’t work if there are too many of them.”
reverto
spell won’t work if there are too many of them.”
“I guess that could work in theory, but it would depend on how many you were talking about. The flame spell takes a lot of energy and usually a lot more time. I wouldn’t have been able to take care of this one so quickly if it weren’t already burning. So . . . I’d say you could burn maybe two or three RCs at a time, max, and that’s if the Settler was pretty powerful.”
“And by that time, the rest of them would be on you,” I said, feeling my stomach sink.
“You don’t have to worry,” Ethan said, his voice softer. “You’re not going to be attacked by a bunch of RCs, I promise you. Nothing like that has happened in the states since the thing up in Michigan in the early ’80s.”
A part of me wanted to believe Ethan, but my gut was telling me I should be ready for anything. Whoever didn’t want me at the homecoming dance might decide to screw trying to get rid of my dates and go straight for the source. They’d been willing to kill Ethan and Josh, so why not me?
Someone had really tried to
kill
Ethan and Josh. It was like the truth was finally soaking in through my thick skull. My hands were shaking and my chicken sandwich threatening to crawl back up my throat by the time I darted in the house and came back with a garbage bag and dustpan. Thankfully, my parents had the news turned up so loud in the den they didn’t hear me come in. I didn’t want them to see how freaked I was.
kill
Ethan and Josh. It was like the truth was finally soaking in through my thick skull. My hands were shaking and my chicken sandwich threatening to crawl back up my throat by the time I darted in the house and came back with a garbage bag and dustpan. Thankfully, my parents had the news turned up so loud in the den they didn’t hear me come in. I didn’t want them to see how freaked I was.
“Ethan,” I said, once I was back outside holding the bag as he scooped increasingly solid zombie remains into it with the pan. “Do you think maybe I could learn the flame spell anyway? Just in case?”
“The flame spell is third-stage Settler stuff.”
“But what if someone tries to kill you again?”
Or me
, I thought, but didn’t add out loud. Ethan was already way overprotective: no need to fuel that fire. “I want to be able to help. I should be—”
Or me
, I thought, but didn’t add out loud. Ethan was already way overprotective: no need to fuel that fire. “I want to be able to help. I should be—”
“Third-stage spells are for third-stagers, Megan. End of discussion. I’ll teach you another second-stage method for taking care of RCs later,” he said, turning back to his car. “Right now I need to get this cleaned up and get to SA headquarters. Are your parents going to be home soon or—”
“They’re home already. They’re watching the news. I swear Dad’s going deaf, he always has the television turned up so loud. I guess that’s why they didn’t hear me screaming.” I tried to laugh at the last part but couldn’t. There was nothing funny about what was going on—not the part of it I knew about or the parts that Ethan and the Elders were keeping from me.
“Listen, don’t worry. I’ll be back later to check on you. Everything’s going to be fine.” Then he bent down and kissed me, really softly on the forehead, like a big brother would kiss a little sister who was scared of the dark.
I smiled and tried to look like I felt comforted as he drove away, even though I was feeling anything but. Ethan was wrong. I wasn’t a kid who needed to be kept safe from whatever was going down in Carol. Whatever was happening, I was obviously a big part of it. I needed to know all the facts so I could help SA find the person responsible before this went any further. The homecoming dance was in danger, and people might end up getting hurt or worse. Suddenly, getting a date had become a secondary concern. What had seemed like the most important thing in the world was now a much smaller blip on my radar. If someone was willing to
kill
people to keep me away from the dance, there had to be some reason for it. A reason that was probably as flat-out evil as whoever was raising these Reanimated Corpses.
kill
people to keep me away from the dance, there had to be some reason for it. A reason that was probably as flat-out evil as whoever was raising these Reanimated Corpses.
No matter how freaked I was, I had to keep my eyes and ears open and do my best to find the person behind the attacks before it was too late.
I was having a horrible dream, a mix of the night of my attack and the events of the past few days. This time the zombies who jumped on me were on fire, and when a corpse leaned over to bite me, the flames spread to my hair, my clothes. Soon I was engulfed, screaming in agony as my skin melted away from my bones. Yet somehow, I continued to live on. I was conscious as I burned, able to hear the laughter of the person who wanted me dead echoing in my—
“Megan Berry! For the last time, get your head off your desk.”
“Wha?” I snapped into an upright position, swiping at a bit of drool on my cheek. The laughter in the room got a little louder.
Crap. Why did I have to fall asleep in English of all places? Mrs. Pierce was already riding my butt about letting my GPA fall to a mere 3.6 instead of a 3.8. Apparently, she held the secretary of the Honor Society to a higher standard than the average student. If I had known that going in, I so wouldn’t have run for the position.
“Bring that diary to me,” Mrs. Pierce said.
She
couldn’t
take my journal! Not when I’d just been listing suspects before I’d evidently succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep. “Um, it’s not a diary, Mrs. Pierce, it’s just, um . . . some notes . . . and stuff.”
couldn’t
take my journal! Not when I’d just been listing suspects before I’d evidently succumbed to exhaustion and fallen asleep. “Um, it’s not a diary, Mrs. Pierce, it’s just, um . . . some notes . . . and stuff.”
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