Undead (9780545473460) Read Online Free

shoves the binoculars at me. “Take a look.”
    I hold them up to my face and the eyepieces balance heavily on the top of my cheeks as I turn the dial to bring the scene into focus. Mr. Taylor’s head sways in and out of view. I steady my wrists against the roof and stare. The teacher’s face looks bruised and greenish-brown, his eyes are blackened and screwed tight, and his mouth is open like a trapdoor on a slack hinge. Worse, there is something running down his chin.
What is that?
I blink and look again. It’s blood, dripping from his jaws and plopping onto the white snow. I slowly pass the binoculars back to Smitty.
    â€œI don’t think he remembered your sandwich.”
    â€œLet me see!” Alice tries to elbow me out of the way, but loses her footing on the seat below. With another squeal she slips and almost falls, saving herself at the last moment by shooting out a hand and grabbing at the hatch lid. It rises off the roof for a split second, then crashes down again with a thump.
    Mr. Taylor’s head snaps up. He sees us. Letting out a long groan, he stretches his arms out and heads directly toward the bus.
    He looks . . . hungry.

I can only grip the side of the hatch and watch as the thing formerly known as Mr. Taylor lurches down the café steps toward us.
    â€œHe doesn’t seem very happy,” I say, overly casually, because it’s either that or flat-out panic. “Maybe we don’t let him in, huh?”
    Beside me, Alice starts to whine, not unlike one of those little handbag dogs that she probably aspires to own.
    â€œHe’s coming for me — didn’t I tell you he tried to grab me?”
    Smitty thrusts the binoculars at her. “Watch him. Scream if he gets close. You can do that.” He turns to me. “We need to barricade the door somehow, now!” He’s down off the seats and through the bus like a mountain goat. I follow, a little less cleverly.
    â€œOi, dude!” Smitty shakes the driver. “How do you lock this door?”
    The driver’s head lolls to the side, and Smitty slaps him on the cheek.
    â€œDon’t!” I say. “You’ll hurt him.”
    â€œHe’s out cold.” Smitty’s looking for something on the dashboard. “Nope, doesn’t look like these doors lock.”
    I search for a button, a lever, something — but he’s right. The door is in four long vertical sections that fold in on themselves like a paper fan when they open. An idea comes to me. “If we had something to put across, like a piece of wood —”
    â€œGot it.” Smitty calls down the aisle. “How we doing, Malice?”
    Alice’s blond head ducks down into the bus momentarily. “Do not call me that, you total freak.”
    â€œIs Mr. T still heading for us?” I say.
    Alice sticks her head out again. “Yes!” she shouts down to us. “Slowly. He’s sort of staggering around the parked cars, but he’s coming this way. Oh my god, he’s horrible. He’s completely
dribbling
.”
    â€œLovely-jubbly.” Smitty grins at me. “I’m going to get my snowboard. Shut the door behind me, won’t you?”
    â€œWhat?” My jaw drops. “Outside?”
    Smitty reaches under my chin and closes my mouth, which makes a kind of
clop
. Before I have time to recover, he pushes the door lever and jumps into the snow.
    â€œMy board’s stowed under the bus. Shut the door!” He disappears around the side of the coach, and I pull on the door lever and race back down to Alice, my face aflame.
    â€œWhere is Mr. Taylor now?”
    â€œPast the cars,” says Alice from the hatch. “Have you locked the doors?”
    â€œSmitty’s gone out to fetch his snowboard so we can barricade them.”
    Alice drops down from the hatch. “Tell me I didn’t hear you right.”
    â€œDon’t worry.” I smile halfheartedly.