Billy: Messenger of Powers (35 page)

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” asked the Gray Power.

Outside the class, the zombie had stopped. It was turning slowly right and left, as though trying to smell something.

“Those great greasy eyes,” whispered Tempus in disgust.

“What about—” started Billy in a normal voice, but he was cut off by Tempus, Ivy, and Vester all “shush”ing him instantly. “Sorry,” Billy whispered, embarrassed. Then, in a quiet whisper, he said, “What about the eyes?”

“Zombies all have them,” whispered Vester, the fireman’s eyes intently tracking the zombie’s progress as it wondered to and fro. “They can see more than most people, and their night vision is amazing.”

“Don’t try to play hide and seek in the dark with a zombie,” contributed Tempus. “Not that I’ve tried,” he said almost apologetically.

“Why do they have the eyes at all?” asked Billy. They were all talking quietly, but he noticed not a one of his friends was moving in the slightest. Apparently zombies could see better than they heard, though it was clear that no one wanted to talk more loudly than they had to, just in case. Knowing about the zombies’ vision was a good fact to have, and Billy filed it away in his mind for quick access should he need it later.

“No one knows exactly why their eyes are so big,” whispered the motionless Ivy. “But they all have them. It’s as though when the Death Power takes over a dead body, it gives them those eyes to remind everyone that Death is, ultimately, everywhere.”

That gave Billy a horrible thought. “You said that zombies are made out of the bodies of dead Powers. What would happen,” he gulped quietly, “if someone made a zombie out of a live Power.”

All three of his friends grew even more still, if that were possible. “No one has ever managed to do that,” said Vester.

“Not that a few people haven’t tried,” added Tempus. Ivy shuddered.

Outside, the zombie was still moving back and forth, but then finally seemed to decide that whatever it was looking for wasn’t there. It shuffled away, and soon was gone from the limited view afforded by the classroom’s frosted windows.

Billy and his three friends all visibly relaxed.

“What was that thing doing here?” Billy asked.

“Well, I would guess that either it realized the value of a quality education,” began Vester, “or it’s looking for you.”

Billy felt that chill that was rapidly growing to be an all-too familiar part of his life. He shivered.

“Now, Vester,” scolded Ivy. “There’s no use scaring him.”

Vester turned on Ivy. “Yes, there is. He’s got to know, from now on, what’s happening and what he’s up against.”

“But we don’t
know
what we’re up against,” said Ivy.

“Then we have to give him worst-case scenarios until everything is clear,” said Vester. Ivy started to say something, but Vester spoke right over her. “The last time this happened, the last time Wolfen started a war, do you know why he got as far as he did?” Without waiting for an answer, Vester continued. “It wasn’t because he was the strongest, or the smartest. It was because so many of us insisted that nothing was wrong, that nothing was happening, that the things happening to our friends and…”—he choked up, unable to continue for a moment—“And families…. That the things happening to them weren’t really happening, or weren’t as bad as they seemed.”

He pointed a finger out the window, where the zombie had been. “So if that zombie is here, then it’s here for Billy, or for Mrs. Russet’s frog, or for some equally evil purpose. And fooling ourselves is just going to get us killed, or worse.”

Billy couldn’t think of much that would be worse than getting killed, but he got Vester’s point. And the point seemed to make sense. It was certain that some kind of attack had been launched, and that the zombies were a big part of it. So to pretend that a zombie was just a random event seemed foolhardy in the extreme.

“If it’s looking for me,” asked Billy, “then why didn’t it look in this room?”

“What?” asked Ivy, looking relieved to be on another topic of conversation.

“Why not come in here?” asked Billy. “If it’s at my school, looking for me, wouldn’t it have instructions to look in rooms where I might be?”

“Probably not,” said Tempus. “Zombies, thankfully, are fairly stupid creatures. They do quite well with certain directed tasks, but don’t do well with improvisation. So if one is told to rip out your liver and eat it, for example, he will. But he’s not likely to eat your intestines, or your brain. Just exactly what he’s told.”

“The zombie’s going to eat my liver?” asked Billy, horrified.

“No, no,” said Ivy placatingly, sending a look at Tempus that was sharp enough to cut diamonds. She patted Billy. “Tempus just means that, if it’s looking for you, the only information the zombie probably has is what you look like. Not much more can be fit into what’s left of its mind. So it will stay in a defined area—the school, for instance—and keep an eye out for you. But it won’t be thorough, and it won’t improvise. Just basic tasks.” She squeezed him reassuringly. “Which is a huge plus, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” said Billy dully. “It’s good to know that the living dead aren’t Ph.D. candidates, as well. Because that would be rotten.”

Ivy either didn’t catch or just ignored his terrified sarcasm, because she grinned brightly and said, “See? Things are looking up already!”

“Shh!” hissed Vester. They all quieted instantly, as another form shuffled past the classroom windows. It was clearly a zombie, and just as clearly a different one than the monster that had walked by earlier: it was shorter and fatter, and its eyes—even through the glass—were visibly larger.

“How many of those things are out there?” whispered Billy.

Tempus said, “Probably just those two, maybe one or two more. The Darksiders are committed to the idea of enslaving humanity, but they’re not going to risk revealing their existence prematurely just to find you. Armies of the undead marching on the world’s largest cities will come later, not now.”

Again, Billy did not feel particularly heartened by this news.

The second zombie passed by. As soon as it was gone, Vester turned to Billy, Ivy, and Tempus. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve got to get going.”

He pulled out his marble, the Object he’d used to Transport them to the volcano earlier.

“No way!” objected Tempus. “I told you, no more trips with amateur keys!”

“C’mon, Tempus, we made it, didn’t we?” said Vester indignantly. Ivy closed her eyes in resignation. Billy could see that these two men, though best of friends, were like an old married couple that couldn’t help but fight over everything.

“Yes, we made it,” Tempus replied. “If by ‘made it’ you mean ‘almost died in agony.’”

“You’re being melodramatic,” said Vester. “As usual.”

“Yes, I agree,” snarled Tempus. “But melodrama is appropriate when contemplating the ridiculous, and thinking I’ll ever let you Transport me anywhere ever again is just that: ridiculous!”

“Hey, hey!” said Billy. He was surprised that he managed to half-shout at the two older men. They, too, were surprised, as he could see by the looks on their faces. He grew suddenly bashful, almost ashamed of himself for daring such impertinence. “Sorry,” he managed. “Just, couldn’t we argue about this stuff somewhere else? Somewhere without the undead around every corner?”

“Quite sensible sounding,” said Ivy. She glared at Tempus and Vester. “In fact, it’s sensible enough that you and I should do it whether
they
do or not, Billy.” She held his hand, then walked toward the door. She put her hand on the door handle, then Ivy looked once more at the Red and Gray Powers. “I have a key of my own, and it can get us all to Powers Island just fine. So Billy and I are going, just as Lumilla told us to. If you care to come with us, fine. But,” she finished, the strength and immovability of a redwood tree creeping into her normally willowy voice, “leave the silly arguments behind. There’s enough to be worried about without worrying that you two will bicker me to death.”

Tempus and Vester looked embarrassed and contrite. Billy already knew that the peace wouldn’t last, but he hoped his two friends could get along long enough for all of them to find safety.

Ivy turned the knob, and Billy and his friends skulked out of the room. They walked hurriedly along the halls, each of the four adventurers looking in as many directions at once as possible, keeping an eye out for zombies, hall monitors, and any other horrors that might lurk in a high school.

“Where are we going?” Billy asked Ivy as they went. “Why can’t we just use the key and go now, from here?”

“My key doesn’t work inside buildings,” she said. “Where’s the closest door out?”

Billy pointed in the direction they were going. “Straight ahead, down some stairs, and there’s a door leading out right at the bottom.” He looked at his watch. “We better hurry, though. It’s only about five minutes until class ends, and there are going to be about two thousand students running around in the halls at that point.”

Ivy stepped up the pace. But the group hadn’t gone more than a couple feet when Billy heard his name being called.

“Billy? Billy!” It was Blythe, who had just turned a nearby corner and spotted them. She ran up to them, holding a hall pass in one hand and a half-devoured candy bar in the other.

Billy froze in place. He looked around. No zombies. He didn’t know what to do. If he stopped to talk, then he and his friends might be caught. If he walked away, then even worse things might happen: like Blythe never talking to him again.

The beautiful girl was next to them in an instant. “Hey,” she said. She took two massive bites of her candy bar, making it disappear as though by magic. Billy wondered if there was a special Power that could control calories. If there was, then Blythe was definitely one of those.

“So I was going to be mad at you for ditching me earlier” she said, throwing the candy wrapper into a nearby trash can, “but then I decided not to be. Anger is bad for the complexion. But I do want an explanation.”

She seemed to notice the rest of the group for the first time. Billy’s spirit sank through the floor. How could he explain this strange menagerie he was wandering around the halls of school with?

Luckily, Blythe provided an explanation for him. She leaned in conspiratorially to Billy. “You know, even though we’re allowed to bring our families in costume this year, I hear most students don’t do that. And they definitely wait until after classes are over.”

“Whah?” Billy managed to say.

Blythe frowned. She pointed over his shoulder. “You know, the dance.”

Billy looked at what she was pointing at. There was a sign that said “Halloween Bash—Family and Friends Welcome—Awards for Best Costumes” hanging over the hallway.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he said. “This, uh,” he stuttered, pointing at his friends.

“We’re his cousins,” said Vester. He stepped up and held out his hand for Blythe to shake. “And he invited us to the Halloween—uh—thing.”

“So what are you?” asked Blythe.

“Well, I’m a fireman,” said Vester.

“Where’s your outfit?” shot back the girl.

Vester frowned. “I’m a fireman on his day off.”

Blythe frowned too, then apparently decided to accept that. “And you two?” she asked Ivy and Tempus.