“Fine! Pop quiz me.”
“Okay.” She smiled and snagged a few pretzels from the bucket on the counter, obviously thrilled to be playing teacher again. Poor Mom, she had to get a life other than training me and counting seeds or whatever the hell she did for a living. “You’ve gotten all the information from your Unsettled. Now what do you do?”
“Mark the forehead to summon a halo, send it back to rest in peace, then head over to the graveyard to seal the grave with the standard ritual.” Which, thankfully, Mom had agreed I could wait to learn until tomorrow night so my social life wouldn’t be totally ruined.
“All right, suppose you wait too long and it starts to go Rogue.”
“Do my best to lay hands on the Unsettled and send it back to its grave. If it doesn’t respond, try to contain the Rogue and call SA. Not that I’ll have to worry about that since I am such a responsible and dedicated Settler, of course.”
“Of course.” Mom sighed and crunched a pretzel, revealing that my good-little-Settler act wasn’t fooling her for a second. She knew I was less than thrilled about my powers returning. “Describe the third type of out-of-grave phenomenon and tell me how they come to be.”
“Talking with your mouth full is gross, Mom. Why don’t we—”
“If you don’t know, then you don’t go,” she said, still talking with her mouth full and even opening her mouth really wide so I could see all the gross smooshed pretzel inside. Very mature. And this was the woman I was supposed to respect as the Yoda to my Skywalker. She was way more Wookie.
“Reanimated Corpses. They’re raised by black magic. The witch—”
“Not all witches practice black magic. The proper term is
black-magic practitioner
.”
“Okay, the
black-magic practitioner
uses a totem—like a piece of clothing or a picture or a doll that represents the person they want the zombie to munch on—to focus their energy.”
“Does the Reanimated Corpse need to see the totem?”
“No.” I rolled my eyes, making it clear I was not a total idiot. “Zombies can’t think. The totem is for the wi—black-magic practitioner. They need it for the spell and have to leave it on the grave after the corpse has risen.”
“So how do they reanimate the corpse?”
“They spill blood on the grave and the totem and chant the summoning spell—”
“Which is?”
“Which is something I
don’t
need to have memorized because I am never going to raise a corpse,” I said, glancing at the clock on the stove. Jeez, Josh
would
be late this time, when I was dying for him to hurry up and get here and spare me any more quizzage.
“Fair enough,” she said, crunching on another pretzel. “Though you’ll have to have it memorized for the third-stage test in a few years.”
“Okay, fine, but that’s in a few years. So are we done?”
“Not yet. So why do Reanimated Corpses end up killing people other than the person they’ve been raised to kill?”
“They are drawn to blood,” I said, my mouth going dry. “Any blood, so if they sense an open wound”—like the ones I’d had after I fell down the hill that night at the graveyard—“they . . . um . . .”
“They’ll be deterred from their course and could potentially go into a feeding frenzy,” she said, her voice gentle. I’d told her the memory of the attack had come back in all its grotesque scariness. Maybe now she’d feel sorry for me and give me a break with the quizzing.
“Now, let’s say you encounter a Reanimated Corpse. What should you do?”
Or maybe not.
“Run like hell?” I asked, trying to ignore the way my stomach was turning inside out just thinking about running into one of the undead.
“Megan, I know this is hard, but—”
“I can freeze it with one of the freezing spells to buy some time, then work the spell to send it back to the one who raised it. Once it gets a taste of the same blood that summoned it from the ground in the first place, it will go snuggle back in its grave and chill for all eternity.”
“Good. So the freezing spells. What are they and why—”
Thankfully, the doorbell rang just then, sparing me further torture and lifting my sagging spirits. After all, how could I stay in the depths of despair when the hottest guy in the entire school was waiting on my doorstep?
“I can go now and we’ll finish this later?” I asked, giving Mom the puppy dog eyes.
“Fine. But home by ten, it’s a school night,” Mom called after me as I dashed to the door, apparently deciding to be cool and not force me to introduce her to Josh before we left. Thank God for small favors—it seemed like those were the only ones He was handing out lately.
“You ready?” Josh asked, tightening his grip on my hand as we headed to the second entrance to the maze. We were supposed to be getting ready to race Josh’s friend Andy and his date, but all I could think about was that Josh was holding my hand.
Holding.
My
. Hand. Ohmygod, I could hardly control my psychotic pleasure.
Josh was looking hotter than ever in a pair of dark-washed jeans and a vintage ringer T-shirt that made his arms look even more muscled. He had a little gel in his shaggy, nearly black hair and it looked like the brows above his ice blue eyes had just been plucked, so it was obvious he’d put in the effort to get studly for me. He’d told me he let his big sister pluck his eyebrows for special occasions.
Yes, he did! He bared that horribly intimate detail! He’s totally into you and is going to ask you to homecoming tonight!
It was so nice when my inner voice got on a positive tangent for a change. “I’m ready. We’re going to kick some maze ass,” I said, with my best flirty smile.
“Hell, yeah, we are.” He leaned down, giving me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. His breath was decidedly beerish and the dampness of the kiss not quite sexy, but who cared? He’d kissed me! Really
kissed
me! And Andy’s girlfriend, London, was driving, so who cared if he’d had a few beers?
Mom would care and Dad would care and if they smell beer on you, you will be so dead and never allowed out of the house again. Ever. Not even for homecoming.
How quickly the inner-voice worm turns, returning to its negative-tangent ways.
I casually swiped my cheek while Josh wasn’t looking, hoping my sweater wouldn’t absorb any beer-scented saliva.
“Ready, set, go, losers!” Andy shouted from where he and London stood at the other maze entrance ten feet away. London squealed as they took off, and I found myself making an equally girlish noise as Josh pulled me into the dark rows of corn.
Everything was going perfectly. London, who was normally a Monica minion inclined toward evil, had been totally nice to me since they picked me up. She’d even acted like it was no big deal that Josh had invited me, even though she’d had to tell Monica there wasn’t room for her in the car. Of course,
I
knew that Monica was stuck at home on Settler duty anyway but still took great satisfaction in knowing the Evil One had been ditched by her friends because of me.
Like I said, I am not as sweet as Jess and therefore can take pleasure in the pain of others. Well, in the pain of Monica at least. I actually felt sorry for Josh’s ex, Beth, who’d looked kind of upset when I’d passed her in the hall earlier.
Josh had broken up with her over the summer after two years together. But Beth hadn’t given me the evil eye or apparently said anything to London to make it clear I wasn’t welcome in the inner circle. So I supposed we were still cool. Thank God, since she was also cocaptain of the pom squad.
It was a late-September miracle and thrilling enough to make me forget all about Settler stuff for a while.
“Come on, this way,” Josh said, dashing to the right, going the complete opposite of the direction he should be going to reach the center. I’d memorized the first few turns we should make by studying the miniature plaque at the entrance to the maze, so I knew we were on the wrong track. But who cared?
Getting lost in a dark, spooky maze where actors were hiding to scare us wasn’t a bad thing. Ghouls jumping out of the darkness were the perfect excuse for me to be jumping into Josh’s arms in need of comfort. From there, it was only a hop and a skip from comforting to kissing. And then from kissing to realizing how wonderful we were together and from realizing how wonderful we were together to realizing he simply
had
to ask me to be his date to the first major social event of the year because—
“Damn, wrong way!” Josh spun in a circle, not even noticing my squeal as a man dressed as a vampire dashed out of one corner of the dead end. “Come on, let’s go back. Andy bet me beer money for a month. No way I’m losing.”
We dashed back the way we’d come, Josh pulling so hard my arm felt like it might be wrenched from the socket. Once again he took the wrong fork in the maze, but when I tried to say something, he ignored me. Ten minutes later, we were still no closer to the center and Josh was still completely unwilling to comfort me no matter how freaked out I pretended to be by the various ghosts, chain saw- wielding freaks, and white-faced undead vampire brides.
I was approaching a state of extreme frustration when I noticed a sound, and a smell, that had nothing to do with pretend Halloween fun. The groans were coming from inside the rows of corn and getting closer every second. My heart started racing and a cold sweat broke out along my spine.
Whatever was coming sure wasn’t an average Unsettled. They never sounded like that, so feral and evil and . . . hungry. What were the chances? It wasn’t like black-magically raised zombies were a common occurrence in a small town like ours.
Memories of the attack flooded my mind, making me tremble as I pulled my hand from Josh’s and spun back toward the dead end we’d just left. For a second my scar burned, as if the nerves were having a flashback. I winced in remembered pain but forced myself not to run for London’s car, even though every cell in my body was screaming for me to get the hell out of the maze and I was fairly sure I was going to throw up.
I had to go get rid of them,
by myself
. I’d forgotten my cell at home and even if I’d had it there was no time to call for help. In addition to that big, scary insight, I realized I also couldn’t let Josh see what was going down or my family would be relocated or worse. Thinking fast, I pulled one earring from my ear and stuffed it in my pocket before Josh noticed I wasn’t following him and turned back.
“Come on,” he said, clearly frustrated that I was wasting time. “I know which way to go for sure now.”
“I . . . think I lost an earring back there,” I said, already backing toward the sound of the approaching zombies, struggling to keep my expression normal looking despite the terror making my heart pound a hundred miles a minute. “I’ll just go look for it and meet you in the center.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, already on the move.
“Yeah totally. You’ve got to beat Andy, I’ll see you in a little bit.” I turned and ran to meet the zombies the second Josh was looking the other direction.
Even though I was dying to find some place to hide and bury my head in the dirt, I couldn’t. If I didn’t disable them, the Reanimated Corpses could start eating innocent people. No matter who they’d been called from their grave to kill, blood would drive them to feed wherever they found it. There were tons of kids running around going crazy in the maze—which meant scraped knees and bloody noses galore—and who knew how many other people were sporting shaving cuts that might draw the undead. One of them might even be my date for homecoming.