chapter Thirty - one
"You're ... not a zombie!" I stammered in disbelief. "Wow. And it only took you seven weeks to figure it out. I can see who got the genius genes in your family."
Amanda stood before us in a cream-colored Chanel ball gown, a self-righteous smirk playing on her lips. From up close it was obvious that her deep green pallor had been achieved with Halloween makeup, and her eyes were made dark by contact lenses. Amanda Culpepper was not a zombie. She was very much alive.
"Why?" Sybil asked, "Why would you pretend to be a zombie?"
"Why not?" Amanda replied matter-of-factly. "I mean, look at them." She gestured over her shoulder at the three undead heads behind her. "The poor things need direction. And I'm the only one who can give it to them."
I looked at the three zombies standing behind Amanda. They growled and snarled at us, but did not advance. "Why don't they attack? It's obvious we're human."
Amanda leaned in and whispered, "Those three would do anything to be members of the in-crowd. And without me there is no in-crowd, is there? So, they do what I say, even as zombies."
The PA system crackled to life. "Do You Really Want to Hurt Me," by Culture Club, began to play, I recognized it as one of the eighties tunes I'd programmed into Taft's computer for the dance.
"Well, I guess we should be getting to the dance," Amanda suddenly said. "I'm looking forward to being crowned winter queen."
Astonishment flashed across my face.
"Don't look at me like that." Laughter danced in her eyes. "That honor goes to the most popular girl at school. And let's face it... that's me."
"The Winter Dance is on Friday," I said, still trying to make sense of what was happening.
"Didn't you get the text? Oh, of course you didn't. The dance was moved to tonight. I guess that information was on a need-to-know basis, and you didn't need to know." Amanda was no less smug and self-righteous than she had been seven weeks ago.
A chill prickled along my spine. "Who sent the text?"
"I guess someone with some real authority around here. Dun!"
She turned and walked away. The Zombiettes shuffled after her.
I turned to Sybil. She was no longer standing. She was now lying on the floor, curled up into a fetal ball. I moved to her, stooping by her side.
"Amanda Culpepper's not a zombie. Wow," she rasped, looking up at me. The eyes no longer belonged to Sybil. They
were monstrous pits that I didn't recognize. Her breath was coming short and quick, as if she were having an asthma attack.
"Whoever sent that text to Amanda is the zombie master. It seems the answer to all our questions is in the gym," I said.
"I know. Go, " she said. I'll be okay." I wasn't so sure about that.
"Drink some tea." I held the Thermos to her lips, and she drank.
"This is embarrassing," she said, drawing back and forcing a smile. She gripped the Thermos and gently pulled it from my hand. "I got this," she called. "Just go. Get to the gym, and find the antidote."
I didn't want to leave her, not like this But I had to. I
gazed down the hall toward the gym. "I'll be back," I whispered.
"That's Baron's line." She was trying hard to get me to smile. I did.
I left Sybil sipping the tea and headed for the gym. I had the sickly feeling the next time I saw my friend she would be among the living dead. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was for the things I'd said and done, not just over the past seven weeks, but over the years. We always take the ones we love for granted, never taking the time to tell them how much we appreciate them--until it's too late-- Or maybe that's just me. I told myself the best way to show Sybil how much I cared was to bring back the antidote.
With Boy George's voice piping through the PA system, I headed for the gym. Blue and white streamers hung from the ceiling. Signs proclaimed: vote for margot jean johnson for
WINTER QUEEN. YOU'LL GO FAR-GO WITH MARGOT.
I recalled the excitement of the previous year, when students
huddled around the bulletin boards debating the prom queen candidates. I remember secretly wishing my name was among them.
Be careful what you wish for.
I walked into the gym. Dancing light bouncing off the foil snowflakes and musical notes hanging from the ceiling gave the room a sense of foreboding charm. Cocktail tables and chairs were set up all around, as if someone was expecting a crowd. The tables encircled a dance floor in the center of the gym. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble. But who?
Amanda and her crew were over by the punch bowls. Two of the Zombiettes had changed into matching purple ball gowns, obviously chosen to highlight Amanda's cream-colored gown. The third girl was still wearing the same grungy outfit she'd worn since the night of the carnival.
As I moved across the floor, "Everybody Wants to Rule the World," by Tears for Fears, started to play. As the guitars kicked, the lyrics ominously welcomed us to our lives, and warned there was no turning back.
How fitting.
I picked up a program from a side table and approached Amanda. She was gawking into her compact, applying red lip gloss that seemed just the right shade for her ghastly green complexion.
"Amanda, who's behind all this?"
"What difference does it make, urn, what's your name again?" she said without looking up.
"You know my name."
"Dodgeball girl?"
"Ha-ha."
"Oh. Right. Margot."
"Amanda, I believe something bad is about to happen here."
"Relax, will you? There's nothing you can do about it now. It's over. You lost."
My breath caught in my throat as it suddenly dawned on me that Amanda was involved in the conspiracy.
She eyed me with mild interest. "I like the way you've been handling yourself these past weeks. You've got spunk. I could see us teaming up next semester." She went back to looking in the tiny mirror. "We might be in a new school next semester. I can see us now, walking in together on the first day, dressed in killer outfits. Even the teachers will be jealous."
"I need the antidote, Amanda, and I need it now." My voice was low, yet filled with rage.
She looked at me as if she had no idea what I was talking about. "Sometimes, Margot, you sound like you come from another planet."
Okay... maybe I was wrong about Amanda. She was too stupid and self-centered to be a part of the conspiracy. I changed the subject. "How come that one's not in a formal?" I pointed at the zombie girl still wearing her grungy clothes.
"Oh, Heather? It's sad really." She snapped shut the compact and walked me out of earshot. "I gave her that hideous top for her birthday last year. It was a cheap rag I got off a sale rack at some discount house." She infused the word discount with distaste. "And because I gave it to her, it held special meaning." She glanced over at Heather to make sure she hadn't moved. She hadn't. Heather and the others stood where she'd left them, awaiting her next command. Amanda continued.
"If she only knew how many laughs we got from her wearing that ugly thing, she'd throw it right in the trash. Anyway, something in her bones is telling her the top is special--it's not."
'1 thought you guys were friends."
She shot me an incredulous look. "We are. Best friends. But she has eyes; she can see. She's wearing that monstrosity because she wants to. That's what's so funny about it." She laughed out loud.
I looked back over at Heather and the others. They were still waiting for Amanda to show them some attention.
Suddenly the music stopped, and Principal Taft entered. He was wearing a tuxedo with the bow tie hanging open around his neck. Quite dapper.
"Oh, wow. Principal Taft is the zombie master."
"Shh... Quiet. This is where I get my crown."
Principal Taft was holding a mic in his hand. He moved to the center of the room.
"Ladies and uhh... ladies. Welcome to Salesian High School's Winter Dance. This auspicious event was the brain-child of one of Salesian's finest students, Junior Margot Jean Johnson." He clapped. No one joined him. There were only two of us available to clap. I didn't clap for myself, and Amanda stood there looking bored.
"Get to the good part," she called.
"Oh, yes. And now the moment I've been waiting for for quite some time." He looked at us. "Margot, Amanda, before I announce the crowning of the winter queen, your fellow classmates have prepared a special honor for the both of you."
At that precise moment, all the gymnasium doors flew open. Standing in the doorways for as far as the eye could see were our zombie classmates, all in prom attire.
"We/come to the zombie dance!" Taft bellowed. Zombies began filing in, hundreds of them, filling up the gym, heading in our direction.