The Smoky Corridor

38

The next morning, at school, when Zack opened his locker, Mr. Willoughby was already inside it waiting for him.

“Ah, good morning, Zachary. I trust you slept well last night?”

Not really.

Zack had fallen asleep worrying about how he was going to tell the gym teacher about Chuck Buckingham’s heart condition without sounding like a wacko.

“I heard a bit of troubling news this morning on the zombie front.”

Zack closed the locker door on himself as tight as he could without chopping off his own head. “Such as?”

“Apparently,” said Mr. Willoughby, “there’s a new one.”

“What?”

“A new zombie.”

“There’s two?”

“Precisely.”

“How?”

“We can’t say for certain. Suffice it to say, a young man wandered where he should not have …”

“And got bit by zombie number one.”

“Yes! How did you know that?”

“Davy told me: If you’re bitten by a zombie but somehow escape, you turn into a zombie, too. So what do we do?”

“No immediate action need be taken, but extra precautions will be put into place. You will undoubtedly notice increased guardianship activity.”

“More ghosts?”

Mr. Willoughby nodded grimly.

“Okay. I gotta head to homeroom. Thanks for watching out for me.”

Mr. Willoughby looked pleased when Zack said that. “Thank you, Zachary. Much to my surprise, doing good actually feels good!”

Zack grabbed his books.

Directly across the hall, a panicked fifth-grade girl was frantically opening and closing her locker.

“Where is it?” she muttered as she tore through her stuff. Out came books, a jacket, a bulky purple backpack. “I am so dead! If I don’t find it … I … am … dead!”

She was becoming hysterical—as in crazy, not funny.

“Poor girl,” sighed a soft voice beside Zack. “She can’t find her homework. Again.”

Zack turned. Another ghost. One he’d never met before. A sweet little lady with a hamburger bun of white hair on top of her head. She was wearing a Kiss the Cook apron.

“Alyssa is my granddaughter. I’m her guardian.”

Zack nodded. He was standing in the middle of a crowded corridor. If he started talking to the empty air, everybody in the place would think he either was mental or had a hands-free cell phone.

“Would you mind? The paper she’s looking for is in the side flap of her backpack. On the right, there.”

Zack walked across the hall and tapped the girl (who was now tugging at her hair with both hands and dangerously close to yanking it all out) on the shoulder.

“Hey, did you check the side flap of your backpack? The one on the right, there?”

First the girl stared at Zack like he was crazy.

Then she practically ripped the zipper out of its seams. She found a single sheet of paper and nearly burst into tears of joy.

“Yes! I am so not dead! Thank you!”

“No problem.”

Zack headed up the hall.

“How’d you know where to find it?” the girl called after him.

“Lucky guess,” Zack said with a shrug. He turned to give Alyssa’s grandmother a wink but the ghost was already gone.