CHAPTER EIGHT

Overdue It

Baru slammed Booky into the hungry zombie monk, knocking the rotten fiend off its feet.

Jordan jumped down from a shelf and snatched the mangled notebook from its mouth. As the creature reached to grab her, Jordan turned to Mary.

“Catch!” she cried, tossing the notebook into the air.

Mary reached out and missed. Kelly dove to the floor, between the zombie’s legs, and caught the notebook. She tossed it sideways to Cal who was running past her. He grabbed the notebook and returned it to its author. Mary looked through what was left of her work. Baru thought she looked happy.

“Let’s finish this fight, Booky!” Baru yelled.

As the remaining zombies staggered into the loft, Baru guided the book monster straight at them. Booky grabbed one of the monks and swung it like a club, knocking two more of them into meaty pieces.

“Oh, gross,” Kelly cried. “They smell like rotten butts and nightmares!”

Ann laughed from her shelf and jotted something into her notebook.

Two zombies latched onto Booky’s right arm. Before Baru could react, they tore it free.

“No!” Baru shouted.

Without hesitation, the monsters devoured the arm books. They left nothing but bindings and page fragments. Behind them, another zombie approached.

We’re horribly outnumbered, Baru thought. He only remembered seeing nine of them, but he wasn’t sure how many lurked in the other dark places.

Using the left tong and neck bolt, Baru directed Booky to swing. The monster’s fist hit the mushy flesh of a nearby zombie’s face. It groaned and slumped to the ground. Pulling back on the tong, Booky raised the monster’s fist and conked it down on another zombie head. As soon as it hit the floor, it stopped moving.

“Two more down!” Baru shouted.

“Only a few left,” Cal cried. He was using a loose board from one of the shelves as a baseball bat. “We’re crushing them!”

Kelly and Jordan flung more books at the remaining monks to keep them from advancing on the authors.

Booky turned and faced the next opponent. With its remaining left arm, Booky swung, catching the zombie monk in the jaw. The blow sent it crashing into the table. It fell with a watery wheeze, then went silent.

“Last one, big guy!” Baru shouted. “We’ve got this!”

But something was wrong. Booky was slowing down.

No, no, Baru thought. Not yet!

He turned Booky toward the final zombie to see if the creature could manage one last punch. It swung its fist, but it barely did any damage. The zombie monk wobbled on its feet. Sensing that Booky was weak, the zombie attacked. It bit into Booky’s neck and knocked one of the bolts loose.

“No!” Baru shouted.

The monster teetered and toppled, bringing Baru down with it.

As Baru hit the ground, he heard the zombie tearing through Booky’s body. Wet pages were ripped. Covers were shredded. Baru felt helpless, wondering if he was going to be next.

That’s when he heard screaming.

They’re eating my friends! Baru thought.

He scrambled out from under Booky’s broken body. Ann, Charlotte, Mary, and Javier were leaping from shelves like warriors. They were armed with heavy tomes, which they swung at the zombie. Jordan, Kelly, and Cal joined the fight.

Between the seven of them, the last zombie had its hands full.

They knocked the zombie away from Booky, watching it crash to the ground. The cathedral’s undead plague was over.

Baru stood up, grateful but shaken. He looked down at Booky. It wasn’t moving. Baru scrambled over to the table and picked up his bike key and Ben’s skeleton key. He touched the metal to the remaining neck bolt.

Nothing happened.

“It’s done,” Mary said, putting her thin hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He fought well. You both did.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen to him,” Baru said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mary said. “Watching this brave fellow—”

“Booky,” Kelly said. “Baru called him Booky.”

“Yes, yes. Booky,” Mary said. “Interesting name. Watching him come to life has inspired me to finish my own monster story.”

“And we can always rebuild him,” Charlotte said. “There are plenty of books.”

“We can make him better, stronger,” Ann added.

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll change the title of my book,” Mary said. “Maybe I’ll call it Booky . . .”

Oh no! thought Baru. We just rewrote history. Mary Shelley can’t give her book that name!

Somewhere, a distant clock gonged.

As it did, everything turned bright white, as if struck by lightning.

And just like that, the library changed back.