WHO, ME?

It took Shark’s Bay exactly twenty-two minutes to figure out who was behind the Great Surf Club Zombie Bunyip Disaster.

The first hint that no one was going to believe we were innocent came when I arrived back at the Coogans’ place. I kinda hoped that I could slink in unnoticed under the cover of darkness. After all, I was soaked to the bone, and all I wanted to do was take a shower, get dry, and get into bed. Instead, everyone was gathered in the living room waiting for me when I opened the door.

All eyes turned to me as I stood there, dripping all over the rug, trying not to look guilty—which, if you’ve ever tried it, you’ll know is a hard look to pull off when you are innocent. When you’re actually guilty, it’s practically impossible.

“Oh,” I said. “Hi, everyone.”

Bradley, who was wrapped in a blanket, gave me a look of pure hatred.

Ditto Belinda.

Ditto everyone except maybe Mom.

She gave me a look that combined suspicion, shame, anger, fear, and relief. You’d think that would be a hard one to manage, but she did it without blinking. Another one of those mom skills, I guess.

“Do you have something to say to us, Rafe?” Biff said.

Barb stood next to him, her arms folded.

Did I? I didn’t know. Other than an exploded set of outdoor toilets and a spoiled art exhibition, there was no real harm done, was there? But I needed to give an answer that would deflect all suspicion from me and the Outsiders. Something that would convince everyone that I wasn’t involved at all with the bunyip disaster and was just an innocent bystander whose zombie sketches were sadly destroyed.

So, what did I come up with?

I said, “Not really.”

Genius.

“You know Bradley was injured?” Mom said.

I looked at Bradley. “What happened?”

“He ran into the woods to get away from whatever that was back there,” Barb said, “and got bitten by a possum.”

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” I said.

“That depends where you get bitten,” Bradley whimpered. “I might need a rabies shot!”

I tried not to smile, but it was difficult. The idea of a possum giving Bradley a nip in the privates was just about the funniest thing I’d ever heard. And if anyone deserved a rabies shot, it was Bradley Coogan. I couldn’t stop the smallest smirk from appearing.

“Any sign of Kell?” I asked Mom.

She shook her head. Only an expert on Jules (like me) could tell that she was about two seconds away from bursting into tears. My mini smile disappeared like snow on a griddle. I walked over and gave her a hug.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” I said.

Mom nodded and sniffed. “I hope not,” she said, and we both smiled. I think we were both just about ready for the night to be over. She told me to go dry off and get ready for bed.

That wasn’t so bad after all. The Coogans were all suspicious, but it wasn’t like anyone had any proof.

I walked upstairs, dead tired and ready to sleep for thirty hours.

That’s when the mob of zombies arrived.