around her neck every single day. I was certain the fabric I had found clinging to the nail earlier was from her scarf.
I dug deeper into the closet. There was a simple cotton top on a hanger behind the pleated skirts. Neatly tied around the neck of the top was a torn blue silk scarf. I didn't have to put it up to my nose. The stench from the vacant lot was all over it.
I looked over at Sybil, my shoulders slumping. "She was so good at hounding me about the state endurance exam I didn't realize she was the zombie master. No wonder they were afraid of her."
"Did you find the antidote?"
I shook my head, and watched as the last vestiges of hope drained from her eyes. With each passing moment she was becoming more zombie-like. Her skin was paler, greener, crumblier.
"But I have a feeling the answer's right under our noses." Another lie. But I couldn't allow her to lose faith. I moved to the desk and began riffling through papers. Atop a neat pile was a letter addressed to my mother. A chill shot through me. I picked it up, holding it as if it were a time bomb that might go off at any moment.
"What is it?"
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"A letter from Mrs. Mars to my mother." My hands were shaking. "Read it."
Dear Mrs. Johnson,
Thank you so much for staying in such close touch with me throughout the semester. How I do enjoy hearing from you. I am writing today to clear up a little misunderstanding. Some students believe the state endurance exam is about running, jumping, and climbing. And while those things are what a girl must do to pass, the exam itself represents something more important. It represents character. I have given up the notion of turning the modern teenage girl into an athlete. But I haven't given up trying to build character in these girls, and I believe enduring the rigors of the exam does just that Please pass this information on to your amazing daughter. I look forward to having her in my class again next semester, where we will have another go at the state endurance exam--same bat time, same bat channel
Very truly yours,
Eleanor Mars
Sybil was staring at me, waiting for me to say something.
"I don't get it," I said, rereading the letter. "Just something about me being in her class next semester and taking the state endurance exam. I thought she was going to pass me. She's crazy."
"Did she mention Baron or Milton, or the antidote?" Sybil asked. Her voice had gone raspy like sandpaper.
"No."
A bit more of the light of life disappeared from her eyes. She stood up. "Something's ... happening to me."
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"Hang on, Syb. Well search the entire school if we have to."
She took a halting step toward me and went spilling to the floor. "Reecahh." She mumbled something I couldn't make out.
I moved to her side, stooped, and cradled her in my arms. "You're going to be all right, Syb," I said soothingly, as tears sprang into my eyes.
She looked up at me. Her dark eyes were filled with ravenous desire. Her parched lips parted, and she rasped a single word. "Run!"
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Chapter Thirty
"Sybil, I'm not leaving you."
"Isssokay." Her words slurred together. "I know you wouldn't I'll leave me. Butisss cool, really. You'll rrrrescue me later, after you find the annnidote."
"No! I'm not leaving you until we find the antidote. I'm not letting you become a zombie." I was trembling as I said the words. "Now, drink some tea."Yes, Mmmommy," she replied. The corners of her lips turned up slightly. A smile of sorts, that drained the tension from me.
"Maybe you were right about Taft. We'll search his office next," I said.
I willed away the tears and helped her to her feet. I scooped up the Thermos and her purse, and together we exited the office. When we stepped into the corridor, I sensed movement down at the far end. Squinting into the darkness, I could see something was coming toward us.
"Amanda," Sybil wheezed.
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Amanda Culpepper and her gang of ghouls were moving through the shadows, coming at us.
"Ignore them,"I said, recalling the last time I'd run into Amanda and her bunch. I knew they'd never bite me. I started walking toward the zombies.
"What are you doing?" Sybil cried, her tiny voice fearful.
"I'm going to Taft's office."
"But... what about them?"
"They won't bother us," I replied. My lips were tight. Sybil grabbed my shoulder and tried to pull me back. "Stop it!" I