We scoured the book, looking for any possible connections to New York, zombies, or the Omegas and discovered something interesting in a Christmas play called A Present from St. Nicholas. In the story, Santa Claus brings a toy to a lonely prince named Belvedere. At first glance, it couldn’t have less to do with the undead.
But hidden in the script, we found clues about St. Nicholas Heights, which is where City College is located, and Belvedere Castle, a European castle in the story, but also the name of a building in Central Park.
Still, other than the fact that they are both in New York, we couldn’t come up with a connection between the college and the castle until Grayson found it online.
“Here’s one thing they have in common,” he announced while looking at a website about historic landmarks in the city. “They were both built from the same material.”
“Gee, let me guess,” I joked. “Bricks?”
“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “They’re both made entirely from Manhattan schist.”
Alex gave him a look. “Seriously?”
Natalie was reading over Grayson’s shoulder and noticed something else. “Here’s another building made from Manhattan schist,” she said. “The Sea and Land Church, down on the Lower East Side.”
“And . . . ?” asked Alex, unsure of where this was leading.
“Listen to this.” She picked up the book and read one of Belvedere’s lines from the script. “ ‘Oh, Saint Nicholas, I have searched my kingdom for this toy all along the East Side, across Sea and Land.’ ”
It began to make sense why the undead were so interested in the book.
“What is all this?” Natalie said, flipping through the pages.
Grayson took it from her and held it. “To maintain secrecy, virtually everything we know about the Omegas and the undead has been passed down orally,” he offered. “In fact, the only written records we know about are the Book of the Dead, which contains all the census information we collect, and the Book of Secrets.”
“You guys told me about the Book of the Dead during training,” I said. “But nobody said a thing about the Book of Secrets.”
“That’s because none of us really knows anything about it,” Alex explained. “We don’t even know for sure it exists. It may just be a rumor passed down from generation to generation.”
“Supposedly,” Natalie continued, “it contains codes and clues that lead you to a place where you can find the names of all Omegas, past and present, locations of hidden records and information, and even a doomsday plan to eliminate the entire undead population in case of an emergency.”
I looked at Grayson. “And now you think The Theatricals of Jo, Meg, Amy, and Beth March is a third book that nobody knew about?”
“No,” he answered as he held it up. “I think it is the Book of Secrets. It would be a classic Omega trick to hide it in plain sight right there in the MIST library.”
We were all quiet for a moment as we considered the seriousness of what he was saying.
“I think so too,” Natalie agreed. “And for some reason, your mother thought it needed to be moved out of the library, so she took it and eventually hid it in the morgue for safekeeping.”
We all turned to Alex, who had taken the book from Grayson and was looking at its spine.
“What do you think?” Grayson asked him.
“I think the answer is right here in the Dewey decimal number from the library,” he said. He turned it so we all could read the spine.
812.31
KEY
If you look in your local library, you’ll see that 812.31 is right in the heart of the drama section. But if you look at the periodic table, you’ll also see that it’s a coded message: 8 stands for oxygen (O), 12 is magnesium (MG), and 31 is gallium (GA). All strung together it reads:
OMGGA
KEY
“Omega key,” Alex said. “The key to all the Omega codes and secrets. I think we’ve only scratched the surface of what’s inside here.”
“Then we need to stop looking right now,” Natalie said, taking charge again. “Whatever this is, we’re not supposed to know about it. Grayson, when you get home tonight, send an emergency message to the Prime Omega. The Prime-O will tell us what to do.”
Before she could say anything else, Dad called, “Dinner!” Further planning would have to wait.
Dinner was great. As expected, Dad’s rigatoni was a huge hit. Less expected, Beth was actually nice to all my friends. Of course, that may have been because she thought Alex was cute. Then, about halfway through the meal, there was a knock on the door.
“Another guest?” Dad laughed as he got up to answer it. “Suddenly, we have the most popular apartment in the building.”
“Word must have gotten out about your rigatoni,” Alex mumbled, his mouth full of pasta.
At first I was surprised to see Dr. Hidalgo, but then it kind of made sense. I’d begun to suspect that in addition to being friends and coworkers, Dr. H and my mother had been Omegas together when they were at MIST. This kind of confirmed it. He may have given my dad some excuse about being in the neighborhood and wanting to say hello, but I knew he was there to make sure Natalie and I were all right.
“Alex, Grayson,” I said, handling the introductions, “this is Dr. Hidalgo. Natalie and I interned for him down at the morgue. Well, technically, Natalie interned and I was just hanging around . . . you know . . . because I’m weird.”
Everyone laughed.
“Nice to meet you both,” he said, shaking their hands. Then he turned to me and Nat. “And very nice to see you two looking so well.”
He closed his eyes for a second and let out a sigh of relief now that he’d found us safe and sound.
At my dad’s insistence, he sat down and joined us for the rest of the meal. It reminded me of the lunch at Carmine’s that Dr. H, Natalie, and I had after my adventure into the Blackwell crypt at the cemetery.
“By the way,” he said, turning to me. “I was having trouble finding one of my books down at the morgue and wondered if it might have ended up with you by some chance.”
I shot a quick look at the others. “I think I know the book you mean,” I answered. “It’s in my room.”
He let out another sigh of relief, and it occurred to me that Dr. H might not be just any Omega. Maybe he was the Prime Omega, which would explain why he had the Book of Secrets.
After dinner I gave Dr. Hidalgo the copy of Little Women, and he clutched it tightly.
“Natalie and you really saved the day,” he said with a mix of pride and appreciation. “You can’t imagine how bad it would have been if they’d gotten this. But there’s something more that I need from all four of you.”
“Anything,” I answered.
“Whatever you know, or think you know, or imagine you know about this book,” he said, holding it up, “you need to forget. Completely.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“You can’t just say it,” he responded with total seriousness. “You have to mean it. This is for everyone’s safety, especially yours. You have to promise me.”
“I promise.”
And when I said it, I really did mean it. But when I went back to my room, I found something that I could not forget.
Earlier, when I’d been in the shower and Natalie was looking for the book, she had dumped everything out of my backpack. Once dinner was over and everyone had gone home, I started sorting through the papers and putting them back where they belonged.
That’s when I found the envelope.
My guess is that it must have fallen out of the Book of Secrets somewhere between the morgue and our apartment. I instantly recognized my mother’s handwriting on the front, where she’d written: 92, 7, 71, 6, 19, 39 Al.
Using the periodic table code it spelled out “Unlucky 13.” I know a lot of people think thirteen is an unlucky number. My mother wasn’t one of them.
I could feel photographs inside the envelope. Since I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure that the pictures were related to the Book of Secrets, I wouldn’t technically be breaking my promise to Dr. H if I looked.
There were eight pictures in all. Each one had a number and a date written on the back. According to the dates, they had been taken over a period of nearly twenty years.
I didn’t recognize anyone until photo number four. It was none other than Cornelius Blackwell, fat and happy, with his fingers and hand still attached. Two pictures later I came across Big Red. But the real surprise was the last picture.
It was a photograph of a man getting into a cab. And even though it was taken from across the street and he was looking to the side, I recognized him instantly.
It was the man who had stolen my mom’s purse and chased us up to the top of that building where we got locked on the roof for the night.
I had always assumed he was just some crazy person and it was a random robbery. Now I wasn’t so sure. Why did my mother have a picture of him? And why would she keep it in the Book of Secrets? What if he was like Cornelius and Big Red? What if he was a zombie too?
That would explain why she tried to escape him by running up toward the roof. And if he was a zombie, maybe it wasn’t random. Maybe he was targeting her.
He certainly didn’t look crazy in this picture. He wore a suit and carried a briefcase.
Despite my promise to Dr. H, there would be no way for me to forget this. More important, there would be no way for me not to search for the answers to my questions.
And since I couldn’t ask my mom or the other Omegas, there was only one way.
I would have to go back to Dead City.
Alone.