Read Generation Dead Online

Authors: Daniel Waters

Tags: #Fiction, #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Children's Books - Young Adult Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Humorous Stories, #Death, #Social Issues - Friendship, #Monsters, #Social Issues - Dating & Sex, #Zombies, #Prejudices

Generation Dead (10 page)

BOOK: Generation Dead
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90

"A shame," Adam repeated. He was about five feet away from Pete when Harris dropped his bat and dove at him.

Phoebe called a warning as she scrambled for the bat, and Adam's left foot lashed out and caught Harris square in the solar plexus, knocking him flat on his back. But Stavis didn't have the qualms that Harris Morgan did about striking a fellow Badger, apparently, because just as Phoebe turned, he stepped in and gave a short thrust to Adam's stomach, and Adam went down on all fours. Stavis made a move like he was going to hit him again, and Phoebe screamed, throwing the bat Morgan had dropped, which Stavis deflected awkwardly, stumbling backward.

She stood up and faced the two, and saw that behind Martinsburg, Tommy had risen to one knee. Martinsburg caught her reaction and turned back toward Tommy.

"You just stay put," he said, "or I'm going to walk over there and beat your girlfriend bloody." He looked back at her and spat. "I might do it anyway."

Phoebe watched as Tommy looked up at his attacker and did one of those three-second blinks. Then he set his leg down and kneeled on the soft soil of the forest floor.

"Yeah, that's right, dead boy," Martinsburg said, twirling the bat, "she might not come back."

There was such hatred in his voice that Phoebe could almost feel it. Stavis stood between her and Martinsburg; Adam was retching into the soil. Harris was groaning, but she heard him starting to get up.

Tommy was staring up at Pete. Pete walked toward him and readied his bat.

91

The first figure that appeared out of the woods was nearly Adam's size. To Phoebe's buzzing mind it was as though he had materialized out of the darkness of the forest. A second figure and then a third--the girl with platinum hair who liked short skirts, and a pale boy with a shock of faded red hair--appeared from behind trees and clusters of brush, until there were six figures in a loose ring around them.

Harris, still separated from his bat and rubbing his chest as though to erase the print of Adam's sneaker, made another colorful comment as a seventh figure appeared behind him on the path. The eerie silence with which these new players had appeared sent a chill through Phoebe, one that was amplified as yet another figure walked past to stand between her and Stavis.

"Colette?" Phoebe whispered.

Martinsburg and his cronies milled around, not sure how they should react to this new development. There were eight kids total, standing in a loose ring around them, motionless as tombstones.

The giant one, his movements awkward, helped Tommy to his feet. He regarded Pete with an expressionless stare that still managed to convey a threat that was unmistakable.

He straightened up, and Phoebe saw that he was even taller than Adam. He loomed over Stavis and Pete the way the gray trees loomed over them all, the newly risen moon throwing its shadow over them like a shroud.

"You ... might... not," he said, his halting voice filled with quiet force, "make ...it...back."

The ring of dead kids began to close. The giant spoke, and

92

each of them took one step forward, tightening the circle like a noose. Harris was the first to run, but Martinsburg and Stavis were close behind.

Phoebe, her eyes wide, thought she caught the hint of a smile on Tommy's lips. But the moment passed, and she ran over to Adam, who was still trying to shake off the effects of the hit to the gut.

"Are you okay?" she said, crouching next to him. Her skirt was ripped and there were twigs and leaves all over her. She was going to have a great time explaining this to her parents.

Adam groaned and spit. "P ...peachy."

The dead kids had begun to disperse, silently shambling back into the forest in the directions they had come from. One of them, the young-looking boy with the red hair, made an odd high bleating sound, and Phoebe realized he was trying to laugh. Short Skirt Girl smiled at her and said "Bye!" in an amused, perky fashion before skipping away down a pine needle--strewn path.

Phoebe scanned for Colette and saw her just as she turned and melted into the forest. Soon all but the giant and Tommy were gone.

"This is Mai." Tommy motioned. "He is ...large."

"Hello, Mai," Phoebe said, and Mai began lifting his arm. "Tommy, are you hurt? My God, they were hitting you with baseball bats!" Mai finished lifting his arm, and three of his fingers twitched. Phoebe realized he was waving.

Tommy's head swiveled from side to side. "The blows did not hurt... as much ... as the ...idea ... of the blows."

93

"Tommy," she said. Adam coughed.

"Take care ... of your friend. And"--Tommy paused, but something made Phoebe think it wasn't the half-speed of undeath that was holding him up, but finding the right words--"
thank
him ...for me."

She watched Tommy walk into the forest, Mai following him like an enormous shadow.

94

***

CHAPTER NINE

P
HOEBE LOOKED OUT THE grimy window of Adam's truck, scanning the woods and thinking about those kids and where they might have come from. Her sleep last night had been restless, and having Adam drive her to school today just made the events of last night seem even more surreal.

Last night Adam hadn't said two words on the entire drive home, and this morning it was she who didn't want to speak.

"Do you understand what happened last night?" Adam asked. "What was that? I don't even know who half of those kids were."

"Colette," she said. Her heartbeat felt like she'd tripled up the caffeine dose in her morning brew. "Colette was there."

Adam was silent for a moment. "Yeah. Colette. And that girl from the lunchroom, I recognized her. But who was that big

95

black kid, and the one that was smiling? Where did they all come from?"

"I have no idea."

"You know, some of them were watching the practice the other night," he said. "They don't go to our school, do they?"

"Some of them do," she replied. "Not Mai, though." "Colette didn't say anything to you, did she?" "No. No, she didn't."

Adam nodded as though he understood the significance of that.

"That was weird, is all I can say. It's like they live out there or something. Or whatever you call it."

Phoebe hugged herself. "Not to mention that you were hit with a bat. A
baseball bat
, Adam."

"Yeah," Adam replied. "Yeah, that was a first. Clocked the wind right out of me."

Phoebe looked over at him, and he was actually grinning, like it had been some kind of adventure.

"Adam, has football left you that desensitized to violence? How can you be so flip about what happened?"

"I've gotten into fights before," he said, shrugging. "Never with bats, though."

"Is that all you have to say?" she said. "We watched Tommy get
beaten
. With
clubs
. I think they were trying to kill him."

"He's already dead, so ...."

"Adam!" she said, her voice loud enough to make him flinch. "You know what I mean!"

96

"Okay," he said. "Okay, I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking of it like that."

"They could have hurt us too, if Tommy's friends hadn't come."

"I don't think they would have done that, Pheeble. I think ..."

"So it's okay to beat a living impaired person?" "That isn't what I mean. I ..."

"Let's just drop it, okay?" she said, turning toward the passenger window.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment. "I guess I just wasn't thinking about being threatened. The whole thing was just so weird."

She didn't answer and continued to stare out the window. She thought it was weird, too, and with each passing mile she expected a living impaired person to appear suddenly out of the woods.

"Say," he said, "what were you doing out there, anyhow?"

Phoebe squeezed her eyes shut. "Let's not talk right now, okay, Adam? Can we talk about this later?"

"Sure, Pheeble," he said. His touch was light and brief on her shoulder. "Sure."

Phoebe didn't know why she felt like crying. She opened her eyes and saw dead kids, dozens of them, lumbering through the woods toward the road. She blinked once and they were gone. She looked back at Adam, as solid and sure as an oak tree. He was trying to rescue me, she thought, and the guilty realization cooled her anger.

97

"I wish I'd gotten some sleep last night." That's all I need, she thought. My mind's playing tricks on me.

"I slept pretty well, surprisingly," he said. "That violent lifestyle I have, always punching guys, living or dead. Gives me inner peace, you know?"

"You're a jerk, Adam," she said, but when her eyes met his, she burst out into a nervous laugh.

She wanted to catch a quick nap in the warm, safe confines of Adam's truck, but when she opened her eyes again, Oakvale High loomed ahead, ready to admit the students coming off the few buses parked in the looping drive. Adam found a space in the student lot, and they started toward the school.

They approached just as Tommy Williams was getting off the bus. He was wearing new jeans, new high-top sneakers, and a navy blue polo shirt.

"He doesn't look like a guy who took a beating last night," Adam whispered.

"No," Phoebe agreed. She thought he looked good. Flawless.

Tommy saw them and tried to smile. Then he waved, and suddenly Phoebe did not feel so tired anymore.

Margi, who didn't have any of Adam's social grace or understanding, began badgering Phoebe the moment she saw her.

"What's wrong, Pheeb? Ohmigod, you look terrible."

"Thanks, Margi. I can always count on you to help build my flagging self-esteem." Phoebe laughed.

"No, really," she said, her bangle-covered arm looping around Phoebe's shoulder. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

98

"Yeah, something happened," Phoebe said, almost instantly-regretting her words. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing." Phoebe tried to play it off. "I'm just kidding." Her locker popped on the first try, and Phoebe wondered if her luck was changing.

"Phoebe, talk to me. Did you have a fight with your parents? With Adam? Did he ask you out?"

Phoebe, having been interrogated by Margi dozens of times, knew that eventually she would build up to "the dead kid."

"Colette," Phoebe said. "I saw Colette last night."

Phoebe's strategy worked; she found the only topic on which she could get Margi to shut up completely, and she didn't even have to lie to do it. Margi's eyes narrowed under the fringe of pink spikes dangling from her forehead.

"We need to talk to her, Margi."

Margi sucked at the corner of her lip, the same corner she'd pierced last summer.

"You couldn't have saved her," Phoebe said. "It isn't your fault she died. It's nobody's fault."

Margi looked away, fellow students passing on either side of them in a rush to get to class.

"We didn't handle it right," Phoebe said.

"I know," Margi said finally, "I know."

"But we have another chance. We can ...."

"I know," Margi said, her voice rising. "I know, I know, I know! I just can't do it now!"

99

She turned on her heels and jingled down the hall at a rapid clip.

Phoebe watched her go, wondering just why she'd felt the need to alienate all of her good friends in a single morning. "Wait up, Margi!" she called, hurrying to catch up.

"Not another word," Margi said.

"My lips are sealed," Phoebe responded, following her into the classroom.

Moments later Principal Kim's reassuring voice came on the PA after the morning announcements to let everyone know that there would be a schoolwide assembly immediately after homeroom, and that students were to proceed in an orderly fashion to the auditorium.

Margi, never one to enjoy silence, reached over and gripped Phoebe's forearm. She had pink smiley skulls painted over the black background of her fingernails.

"Yes! No history today!"

Phoebe returned her smile. Margi was always quick to bounce back from a tiff, which was a great equalizer for someone as excitable as she was. The bell rang, and they started to proceed toward the auditorium. The halls were already filled with students. Phoebe saw the pumpkin-like head of TC Stavis bobbing above a sea of students. The auditorium was twice the size it needed to be for the average enrollment at Oakvale High; she and Margi were herded into a pair of seats toward the middle of the cavernous half bowl.

"Slide all the way down," Mr. Allen said in his monotone. "Fill every open seat."

BOOK: Generation Dead
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ads

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