Nancy Drew had sidekicks. Megan found that out on a quick trip to the school library. She reread the first few novels and took careful notes on how to do detective work. Sidekicks seemed to be the most important part of the job. Very few detectives solved mysteries by themselves.
Determined to get some help, Megan went to find her friends.
Sam was sitting with Happy in the big, empty lunchroom, scarfing down what was left of the home ec pie. Megan could smell the rotten strawberries as she entered the room. They smelled so good that she nearly forgot why she was there. “The Bs are up to no good,” Megan blurted.
“That’s not new news,” Happy said. She was sucking avocado mush out of her fingernails. “Tell us something we don’t already know.”
“I think they stole the zombitus cure,” Megan said, pulling up a chair and sitting down.
“Well, that’s something,” Happy admitted. “Do you have proof, Sherlock?”
Sherlock … Megan was pretty certain that was the name of another detective. She’d have to go back to the library later to refresh her memory.
If Happy was involved with the Bs, Megan shouldn’t really say anything, but since she didn’t know for sure, she barreled on. “I saw them coming out of the research center. They were talking about the cure and doing something on Visitors’ Day.” She opened her notebook to get the facts straight. “They’re having a big meeting Friday night.”
Happy choked on a bit of avocado. “Really?” she asked. “A meeting?”
Megan couldn’t stand sitting at the table watching them eat. “Can I have some of that?” she asked Sam before telling them her plan.
Sam passed the nearly empty pie dish. Megan took the last fingerful of the spoiled fruity dessert and stuffed it in her mouth. “Yum.” She wiped her face on her sleeve.
“Never thought rotten fruit would taste so good, did you?” Happy asked.
“Never,” Megan admitted. “About Friday …”
“I’m in,” Sam said. “We can snoop around and see what they’re up to.”
Happy sighed. “I guess if you’re both going, I’ll go, too. Not like I have anything better to do that night.”
Megan was encouraged. Whatever she’d heard at the research center was wrong. She could cross Happy’s name out of her notebook. Happy wasn’t going to be plotting with the Bs in the castle tower. She’d be spying on them instead.
The pie was gone, so Megan picked up the dish and licked the plate clean. Grinning, she said, “We’re going to sneak around, so we should all wear black.” There was a bit of strawberry mush on Megan’s nose.
Sam reached forward to wipe it off with a napkin. Megan flinched but didn’t back away.
“Clean,” he reported when he was done. Then Sam turned to Happy. “Got anything thieving black I can borrow?”
“No,” Happy told him.
She didn’t seem to be joking, but honestly Megan couldn’t tell.
Without saying bye, Happy got up and left the cafeteria.
When she was gone, Sam reached into his backpack. “I got you a present.”
Megan raised her eyebrows. “For me?”
“You don’t know for sure if the Bs are thieves, but now you know that I’m one!” He pulled another strawberry pie out of his bag. “Mr. Franko doesn’t have zombitus, and yet he still always forgets to lock the home ec room when he leaves.”
Megan drooled at the sight of the slightly moldy, oddly colored dessert.
“Dive in,” he told her.
And Megan did.
The week passed by in a rush. On Friday night, Megan met Sam in the darkened passageway that ran beneath the tower room.
“You really do know your way around the castle,” Megan whispered, impressed that they were in a place they could hear everything going on, but not be seen.
“Sometimes being somewhere a long time has its benefits,” Sam replied. He touched Megan’s shoulder and pointed out the best spot for eavesdropping.
“How long have you been —?” Megan began to ask, but voices in the tower room interrupted her.
“Where’s Yeverman?” Brenda asked.
Megan closed her eyes to picture the scene. Brenda was undoubtedly wearing one of her many tire-track dresses. The others were less predictable, but Megan imagined whatever Betsy had on was probably spotlessly clean.
“I don’t know,” Brooke replied. “I told her to be here.”
“She told us she’d be here,” Megan whispered to Sam.
“Who told you what?” Sam asked. “Where’s Happy?”
“Exactly,” Megan said.
“She’s going to help us, right?” Betsy asked.
“For sure she’s helping,” Brooke said with a bitter chuckle. “She knows that I know who she is. She doesn’t want her secret revealed. She’ll do what I tell her to do.”
Under the tower, Sam gave Megan a sideways look.
“She’s Yeverman,” Megan revealed, realizing that Sam was completely baffled.
“Happy Yeverman?” Sam had no clue.
Megan couldn’t remember Happy’s whole name. “It’s Henrietta something something,” she told Sam. “Yeverman’s her last name.”
“That makes sense,” Sam said softly. “I thought her parents gave her the wrong first name.”
“They kind of did.” Happy was happier not being a Yeverman. With Happy’s permission, she’d explain everything to Sam later. He clearly didn’t know anything about the fashion industry.
“As long as she’s got the stuff ready by Visitors’ Day,” Brenda said.
“Oh, she will,” Brooke said with another chuckle. “And she’ll get a huge surprise when she sees who’s in the audience.”
“By then it’ll be too late,” Betsy said. “For everyone!”
The Bs all laughed. Their voices echoed off the stone walls of the tower.
“Okay,” Megan whispered to Sam. “We can go. I think I know what’s going on.”
“What?” Sam still had no clue.
“The cure,” Megan told him.
“What about it?”
“Well, they —” Megan began, but then she heard the Bs ending the meeting.
“I love being a zombie.” Megan didn’t know if Brenda meant Zom-B, as in popular, or zombie, as in undead. Megan immediately thought about when Zach said that some people may not want to cure zombitus. Could the Bs have stolen the cure to make sure no one got better? What did Brenda mean when she said, “It’ll be too late”?
Quickly, she wrote her questions down so she could think about them later.
Megan and Sam sat silently until they were sure the Zom-Bs had left. Then they snuck down the passageway and out into the main hall.
When they reached the koi pond, Brett was waiting, hands on his hips, snarling.
“Aha!” Brett pointed at Megan. “I knew it.” The Bs were with him. It appeared as if they’d been waiting for her.
“Knew what?” Megan pretended that she and Sam were just now crossing to the elevator, coming from the … she looked around, but couldn’t think of a good excuse, so she improvised. “We were walking around the castle.” Pause. “What’s going on?”
“You were in the tower,” Brett accused Megan. His one sharp tooth glinted in the moonlight. “I could smell you.”
Megan sniffed her arm. “I don’t smell special,” she said.
“Liar!” Brett boomed. “My sense of smell has gotten better since I started transforming. You smell like the ocean in Dana Point.”
Whew. That wasn’t so bad. Megan was worried her deodorant wasn’t working or her breath reeked.
“You were there.” He poked his finger at Megan and Sam. “Spies!”
Megan hadn’t heard Brett at the meeting and now she understood why. Whatever was going on, the Zom-Bs felt that it was important enough to put Brett on guard duty.
“Oh, come on, Brett,” Sam said, putting his arm around Megan’s shoulder. He gave Megan a little squeeze. “We weren’t spying. We’re on a date. Everyone knows how much I like Megan. I’m lucky she agreed to hang out with me tonight.” Sam pulled Megan closer. “I wanted to show her the full moon.” He grinned. “It’s so bright tonight.”
A zombie’s body temperature was normally cooler than a regular person’s. Yet as she leaned into Sam, Megan was sure her temperature spiked a couple thousand degrees. She worried that if she got any hotter, her hair would set itself on fire.
Brett looked at Megan for a long time, as if he was remembering something. But the glimmer in his eyes disappeared as fast as it came.
“I don’t believe you,” he told Sam.
That hurt. Why wouldn’t he believe Megan was on a date with Sam? It could happen, couldn’t it?
“Uhhhh-uhhhh,” Brett groaned and then he leaped forward. “Spies! Get them!” he yelled.
Sam and Megan took off running, with the Ghouls close behind. But they were easy to ditch. Betsy refused to get messy, so she never actually ran after them at all. Brenda was so out of shape she walked more than she ran. Plus, shuffling straight legged in high heels slowed her down. Brooke, it turned out, had asthma. She ended up bent over, leaning on her knees, using an inhaler, and breathing heavily while Sam and Megan got away.
Brett was the only one still chasing them. Megan wondered what he’d do with her and Sam if he caught them. A picture of him eating brains at a long table set with candles and cloth napkins popped into her mind and made her run faster.
“I’ll distract him,” Sam said, turning away from Megan. “I know all the passageways.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Brett. “You’ll never catch me, Zom-Bonehead!”
Megan headed toward the back door. Outside, she’d have a better chance to hide until it was safe.
Unfortunately, Brett followed Megan out into the cool night air.
Since they weren’t in the same PE class at home, she’d never seen him run, so Megan was surprised when Brett began gaining on her. He was the fastest zombie she’d ever seen! Almost supernaturally fast.
Running was not going to save her.
Brett made a grab for the back of Megan’s black T-shirt and she stumbled.
Rocks scraped Megan’s hands and knees as she lunged out of Brett’s grasp. She managed to stand, but Brett was only inches behind her.
“I’ve got you!” Brett snarled. “I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since you turned me into a zombie!”
“What are you talking about?” Megan kicked and struggled.
“I ate your disease-infected brownie!”
“I can’t believe you think I gave you zombitus,” Megan said. She still had no idea how she’d gotten it in the first place.
“It was your brownie!” he shrieked. His angry face was centimeters from hers.
“Don’t blame me! I didn’t force you to eat it.” She tried every move she’d learned from wrestling with Zach, but Brett was too strong. “Get away from me, you snaggletooth!”
“Now you have to pay,” he said quietly.
More scared than she’d ever been her whole life, Megan stopped fighting and closed her eyes. If this was the end, to be eaten alive by her first crush, she didn’t want to see it. She hoped it would be quick and painless.
“What’s going on here?”
Saved!
Megan knew that voice. She opened her eyes slowly. She also knew those floral flip-flops.
Looking up past Brett’s big pumpkin head, Megan was relieved to find Mr. Jones standing over them.
“Mr. Hansen?” Mr. Jones pulled Brett off of Megan with a strong hand. “Is this appropriate zombie behavior?”
Megan scrambled up and ducked behind Mr. Jones’s large body for protection.
“I —” Brett began to explain, but Mr. Jones cut him off.
“I will not have my students eating other students,” Mr. Jones’s said. “This is a vegetarian campus.” No one had told Megan that. Sam and Happy had just let her assume brains would eventually be served in the cafeteria.
“I wasn’t going to eat her,” Brett said, quickly defending himself.
“And what were you planning to do?” Mr. Jones stared hard at Brett.
Yeah … Megan wanted to know, too.
“Megan and I are old friends from Dana Point,” Brett explained. “We were just playing around.” He laughed, but it was obviously forced.
Mr. Jones turned to Megan. “Is that true?”
Brett licked his lips nervously. Whether he meant it as a threat or not, Megan got the chills. She wanted to get away from Brett as soon as she could.
“Um … I’m Megan Murry. I’m new here. Can I talk to you about something?” she asked Mr. Jones.
Drawing his bushy eyebrows together and lowering his eyes, he looked between her and Brett and back again.
“Alone,” Megan said, nodding her head toward Brett.
When Mr. Jones didn’t reply, she added, “It’s important.”
“If I ever catch you chasing one of my students,” Mr. Jones said, his European accent crackling, “you will be transferred to my school in Siberia.” A small smile curled his mouth. “It’s lovely. Old historic property. On Lake Baikal at the base of a mountain.” Mr. Jones wrapped his arms around himself and with a shiver, warned Brett, “It’s cold in Siberia. Very, very cold.”
“Yes, sir.” Brett scampered off to the dorms.
“You have something to tell me?” Mr. Jones asked Megan when they were alone. He tapped a flip-flop impatiently. “Something vital?”
“Umm.” Megan was grateful for the rescue. But at the same time, the man made her very nervous.
Sam had told her he was nice. She trusted Sam.
Megan took a deep breath. “The Bs stole the zombitus cure.”