Zombiekins 2(10)

“I know what I saw,” Stanley insisted. “There, look at her now—”

Felicity was lurching out onto the soccer pitch.

“So? Maybe she wants to play soccer.”

“And risk getting a speck of dirt on her pretty, pretty dress?” Stanley said. “You know how she feels about ‘perspiring.’ ”

“Okay, so maybe she is acting a little weird,” Miranda admitted. “But that still doesn’t make her a zombie.”





Someone booted the soccer ball and it drilled Felicity in the side of the head. She didn’t even flinch.

The kids stopped playing soccer and crowded around Felicity to ask if she was all right. But she just stood there, swaying slightly, without replying. Then she stooped over, picked up the soccer ball, and held it out in front of her as if she’d never seen anything like it before.





“See?” Stanley said. Even Miranda was starting to look doubtful.

Once the kids around Felicity realized she was okay, they started bugging her to give the ball back so they could get on with their game.

But Felicity just opened her mouth wide . . . and shoved the ball in!





15



FINALLY MIRANDA BELIEVED STANLEY.

“You keep Felicity out of trouble,” she told him on the way up to class. “And I’ll go check the girls’ bathroom for Zombiekins and Knuckles.”

“What do you mean, ‘Keep her out of trouble?’” Stanley said, looking over his shoulder in alarm. “She wants to eat me.”

Felicity was five places behind Stanley in line. When he turned to look back, she snarled, gnashed her teeth, and stretched a clutching hand out toward him. But fortunately she wouldn’t leave her place in line to get him.





“Stanley,” Miranda said, lowering her voice confidentially, “do you have any idea how much trouble you’ll be in if Mr. Baldengrumpy finds out your toy turned her into a zombie? You’ve got to keep her from doing anything to draw attention to her, uh, condition.”

And with that, Miranda ducked out of line and hurried up the stairs.

Just ahead of Stanley, Fiona was dangling a worm in Big Tony’s face.





“Ewwww!” screamed Big Tony. “Get it away from me!”

Fiona giggled and, with Kathleen egging her on, flung the worm at Big Tony. It stuck to the front of his shirt. He let out a piercing shriek, then danced and squirmed and slapped at his clothes like someone on fire until the worm finally shook loose and dropped onto the stair.

Fiona and Kathleen doubled over laughing. The rest of the line just kept trudging up the stairs.

Except Felicity. When she came to the worm, she stopped and pounced on it . . . . She rose up, holding it out in front of her... then popped it into her mouth and swallowed!





The line stopped and the noisy stairwell fell silent. Everyone stared at Felicity. Big Tony put his hand over his mouth like he was going to be sick.

It was a tense moment. Stanley knew he had to do something to cover up before his classmates started to get suspicious.

“Uh, three-second rule?” he shrugged.

The other kids looked at him as if he was mental. Except for Fiona and Kathleen, who just nodded their heads and stared at Felicity with surprised admiration.

“Cool,” said Kathleen.





16





ONCE THEY REACHED THE TOP FLOOR, THE LINE broke up, and kids scattered off in all directions to their cubbies. Felicity came shuffling after Stanley, lurching slowly and stiffly like . . . well, like a zombie. . . .

He barely had time to dig his homework out of his knapsack, check that his mom had signed it, change into his indoor shoes, tie them in double knots, zip up his bag, open it again to grab a pencil from his pencil case, close it again, and narrowly escape before Felicity reached him.

Stanley took his seat inside the classroom and Felicity came staggering straight toward him, barging between the desks instead of taking the aisles. That’s when Stanley realized he had a BIG problem: No matter how slow-moving Felicity was, as long as he stayed put she’d eventually catch him. But he couldn’t run away without getting in trouble for being out of his desk.

Felicity kept lumbering in his direction . . . gnashing her teeth . . . clawing the air . . . .

Soon she was just a few lurches away . . . .





Stanley weighed his options: Mauled by a zombie? Or yelled at by his teacher?

He shrunk down as small as he could make himself at his desk. He decided he was more afraid of Mr. Baldengrumpy.

The next moment, Felicity was hovering right over him and Stanley was leaning way, way back to avoid the clutching hands that stretched . . . toward . . . his . . . neck . . . .

“Okay, class,” Mr. Baldengrumpy droned. “Take your seats.”