Dawn of the Jed Read Free

but it was a good fix. Ooze would do the rest, stitching everything back together the way it does.
    I wished I could repair my friendship with Luke as easily.
    “Thanks,” I said.
    “No problem. So if that’s it, I’ll get to class.”
    “OK, see ya.”
    So much for meaningful conversation.
    Luke slipped out the door and was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And the first one was, You are going to be late to class.
    My thought was right. I still had to shower and change.
    It wasn’t until I looked at my watch that I noticed the time—and it was time to panic.
    The watch wasn’t there.
    My dad had given me a Walking Dead watch, featuring a couple of zombies on the face. Though it offended my zombie sensibilities—I was on a permanent flesh-free diet—it was pretty cool. And my dad loved the irony, telling me, “You can set the alarm for noon, so when you get hungry, you will know it’s lurch time. Get it?”
    The watch must have come off while Robbie tried to turn me into scrap parts. I scanned the mat, but no sign.
    Nothing on the floor or along the walls. I noticed several tables that had been pushed into the corner, rolled out each day for lunch. There was plenty of room for something to slide underneath and out of sight.
    I put my cheek to the floor and saw dust, hair … a taco! Too bad Luke left.
    Something else. Small, black. It looked promising.
    I reached as far as I could, felt plastic, put my hand over it, and slid it out.
    My watch, thank goodness. But trapped below it was a piece of paper.
    A bold headline across the top caught my attention. “Do you have a brain?” Right below it, in slightly smaller type, was, “If so, beware of zombies looking for a snack.”
    Not good. I scanned the rest. I hadn’t seen such anti-zombie propaganda since Night of the Living Dead. I folded it and tucked it into my back pocket, realizing Robbie wasn’t my only worry this semester.
    What the heck was the NZN Network? And what did it have against the undead?

Chapter Two

     
    There are three reasons zombies tend not to blend in well at school.
    First: No amount of spray tan can hide the gray pallor.
    Two: I can bathe ten times a day and still give off a slight whiff of ZO (zombie odor).
    Three: Bullies consider detachable limbs to be a party game.
    That’s why I was in a pretty good mood when school let out the week before Christmas. The sevvies had beaten the eighth graders for the first time ever, and Anna and I had patched up our troubles. She was honest about first being interested in me when she thought I could bring her over to the undead (my mom’s lectures about eating well and cleaning up after yourself had a much better chance at turning someone into a zombie).
    But I believed her when she admitted becoming interested in me as a person rather than someone with detachable body parts. I had that effect on people when I turned on the charm.
    But the best thing about being on break? Two blissful weeks living in a world where I would not have to encounter those “Beware of flying limbs” signs that were posted in and around Pine Hollow Middle School in the final week of the winter semester. Apparently the administration considers flying limbs a health hazard, rather than the bullies who hurl them.
    But none of that was on my mind when, with happy (if non-beating) heart, I sat down with Mom and Dad for our annual exchanging of the Christmas lists, which again took place on my first day of winter break.
    Since I was at the time blissfully unaware of what the next semester held (and my future role as wishbone), I grinned as Mom, Dad, and I took our spots at the kitchen table. I clutched my list nervously, since once again it contained an item I’d always dreamed about.
    Tradition dictated that Mom went first. She started as she always did, with the origin story.
    “As the Rivers clan gathers once again to make sure Christmas morning is not the disaster it once was, let us reflect on the horrible