We slogged up the Teppers’ driveway, Jason clinging to consciousness between us.

“Charlie, get your butt out here!” Willa shrieked.

The front door opened and a surprised Charlie dashed out to help us. “Jason! You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason slurred. “Bex and Willa cured me, or whatever. But I need my bed. I need my bed right now.”

It took the three of us to get him upstairs to his room. At the sight of his big, comfy bed, Jason sighed, said, “Finally,” and fell face first into a pillow.

Charlie took his sneakers off, and the resulting smell drove us back downstairs pretty quickly. We collapsed into chairs around the dining room table. Charlie poured us glasses of water, which Willa and I chugged heartily. Getting Jason home had been quite the workout.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “How’s Marcus?”

“Still sleeping in my room,” Charlie said.

That worried me. What if the cure was some kind of Sleeping Beauty disease? What if Marcus slept forever?

“What should we do now?” Charlie asked, directing his question at me like I had a clue.

Willa clutched her stomach. “We should eat dinner.”

At the mention of it, my stomach growled in response. I would give anything for one of my dad’s big meals right now. My heart sank as I thought about his silly aprons and my mom losing her glasses when they were on the top of her head. How could you miss people so much when you just saw them yesterday?

“I can make spaghetti,” Charlie said. He stood and started opening cabinets. “Yep, I have everything I need.”

I forced a smile. “That would be great. Thanks.”

Willa beamed. “Thanks, Charlie. You’re the best.”

While Charlie boiled water to cook the pasta, I charged my phone, and Willa called her house. I could hear her mother’s frantic voice through the speaker, but Willa did a good job calming her down.

It hurt to think about my parents as zombies, wandering about town somewhere, their brains clicked off. I had to save them. I had to figure out a way.

“Just don’t let Dad back in unless his eyes are brown again,” Willa said to her mother. “Keep all the doors locked and you’ll be fine.”

After a muffled question, Willa answered, “Yeah, I’ll sleep at Bex’s. I’ll call again tomorrow.”

She ended the call and groaned.

“How are they?” I asked.

“My mom and my little brothers are fine but my dad turned. She pushed him outside with a broom. I told her to stay in and keep the doors locked.”

I nodded. “They’ll be safe.”

“She doesn’t want me crossing town to get back home so I’m going to stay at your house. Cool?”

“Of course,” I said.

Charlie put down the spoon he’d been stirring the sauce with. “You guys are free to stay here. We’d be safer all together.”

Willa grimaced. “If I stayed overnight at a boy’s house with no parents, a zombie attack would pale in comparison to what I’d face at home.”

“Point taken,” Charlie said and poured the spaghetti into a strainer.

The meal Charlie spread out was pretty good—spaghetti and sauce, bread and butter, and cookies for dessert. I leaned back in the chair after I finished and patted my happy belly.

“Thanks,” I said. “I needed this.”

“I can make us all some French toast in the morning, too,” Charlie offered.

“That would be great,” Willa said, but her voice trailed off as she stared at something out the window.

I looked over my shoulder. My neighbor, Mrs. Sweeney, staggered down the street in what was now an easily recognizable zombie fashion.

“Poor Mrs. Sweeney.” I moved to get up.

Charlie put a hand on my arm. “It’s almost dark. It’s not safe to run around curing people. Let’s wait.”

He was right. But it still felt awful to watch her wandering aimlessly. I wondered what her dog, William Shakespaw, had thought when his beloved owner turned into a zombie.

Willa chewed on her thumbnail. “At least they aren’t like movie zombies. You know, limbs falling off, skin decaying.”

“That will come with time,” Charlie said.

I leaned forward. “What?”

“They’ve only been zombies for a day or so. What do you think will happen if we don’t cure them soon?”

Gross. But he was right. Nature would take its toll eventually. All I could think about were my parents—slowly decaying faces, eyes dropping out, arms falling off. I pressed my fingers into my temples and forced myself to stop picturing these horrible images.

Willa stood and started piling up dishes. “We should head to your house before it gets too dark.”

I agreed and scrubbed dishes, wishing I could scrub my mind. After we finished helping Charlie, we headed outside.

Willa took a long look at the decorations strewn across my front yard. “It looks like Halloween threw up on your grass.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I unlocked the front door and poked my head in. “Hello?”

“Who are you talking to?” Willa whispered. “Your zombie parents aren’t here, right?”

No, they weren’t. And the doors had all been closed so no new zombies could get in. Still, it felt like we weren’t alone. We crept into the living room, closing the front door behind us. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was off. There was a chill in the air, and I felt a tickle down my back.

And then my blood froze in my veins.

I’d left the living room window open when I dashed out this morning. That had let cool autumn air in, and sometime since then someone or something had pushed in the screen. When a noise came from the kitchen, it confirmed my worst fear.

We were definitely not alone.