Read Online Undead (9780545473460) by Kirsty McKay - Free Book Online Page B

shrill and clear has been reduced to a broken-down and erratic buzz, like a cricket pathetically chirping after summer is long gone.
    Somebody will come. Eventually. When the bus doesn’t return to school and we can’t be reached on the phone, the parents will start having
fits
. There’ll be a search party, news reports — dammit, we’ll be D-List celebs by the time this is through. We just might need to make it through the night first, though. I scan the dark corners of the parking lot for movement, feeling more like a target than a lookout, but all is still. Through the trees and down the hill to the left, the lights outside the Cheery Chomper have come on. They are probably on a timer.
    Nobody remains.

My father is cleaning my face with a soft washcloth tucked into a pointed corner, and cold, cold water. Around my nose and eyes, it tickles, and it wakes me. I blink the water away.
    It’s bright, shockingly so.
    But there’s no Dad, just half a cold face.
    It was a dream. For a moment, I think it’s all been a dream, until I raise a hand to my cheek and see the white fluttering down upon me — snow. It’s as if each flake is bringing memories of the day before. It happened.
    I am lying across the double seat at the front of the bus, next to the door.
    And the door is open.
    Panic claws at me and I sit up. Where is everyone? A black-booted foot sticking out into the aisle tells me that Smitty is lying on a seat near the back. The makeshift window barricade is in place. Someone is snoring lightly behind me.
    But the door is open.
    I bolt out of my seat and hit the lever to shut the doors. They oblige, grudgingly. The snowboard that was holding them in place has been carefully moved inside, onto the steps. I quickly reinstate it. Someone has decided to go for a morning walk.
    â€œHey.”
    I spin around. Smitty is standing behind me, his face scrunched by sleep.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” He scratches his head.
    â€œWho’s missing?”
    He frowns at me. “Malice and Pete are in Slumberland. That loser, Gareth? Who cares?”
    â€œGareth was supposed to be on watch.” I return the frown. “He’s gone, and he left the door open behind him.”
    Alice appears from behind a seat, her eyes half-closed.
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œPete!” I shout.
    â€œEh?” He sits up suddenly, ruffled and confused.
    â€œWhere’s the laptop, Pete?” I demand. “Please tell me you slept on it.”
    He smiles lazily. “I have it safe.”
    â€œReally? Because the responsible adult of the group has left us home alone,” I say. “And I’m thinking he might not have gone empty-handed.”
    The smile disappears.
    â€œIt’s in my bag.” He duck-dives under his seat and retrieves a ratty black and orange backpack. It’s unzipped and empty-looking. He checks inside anyway.
    The laptop is gone.
    Smitty lets out a battle cry and runs to the doors, flinging the snowboard aside. “Where has he gone? I’ll kill him!” He launches himself into the snow and runs out into the parking lot, darting around the bus, as if Gareth might be hiding behind a corner, chuckling.
    â€œSmitty!” I linger on the steps, unwilling to follow him into the snow. “Come in!”
    I was sleeping right by the door. How did Gareth manage to make his escape without waking me?
    Smitty climbs back onto the bus, fixes the snowboard back in place, and sinks down on the floor, defeated.
    â€œHe’s gone? He’s left us?” Alice is fully awake and getting up to speed.
    â€œWhat does it matter?” Smitty spits. “He was useless. What matters is that he took with him our best chance to get help.”
    â€œNot necessarily.” Pete stands up, and I’m treated to a whiff of pure morning breath. “He’s probably taken the laptop to the café. That was the original plan. So we follow