Free Why I Quit Zombie School by R. L. Stine Page A

I should have pale blue skin, too.
    No problem. I took out my horror-makeup kit. And I very carefully dabbed a blue tint over my face, my neck, and my arms and hands.
    When I finished, I checked myself out in the mirror. Yes. The color was perfect. Just a hint of blue.
    I got dressed and hurried down the hall. I wanted to show off my skin to Franny. I knew she’d agree that Matt the Genius had struck again.
    But she wasn’t in her room. She had already gone to breakfast.
    I walked through the crowded halls with confidence. No one turned to stare at me. No one followed me, hoping to prove I was alive.
    I was accepted. I was one of them.
    Everything went perfectly — until gym class.

27
    “We’re going to run track indoors today,” Coach Meadows announced. He blew his whistle. His whole body appeared to deflate every time he blew it.
    He had us run laps around the gym. I ran between Angelo and another guy from the soccer team named Steven.
    You couldn’t really call it running. It was more like stumbling and staggering. Angelo was talking about a soccer match the Vultures were playing against a team called the Spotted Owls.
    “Why would anyone name a team that?” Angelo demanded. “What kind of name is Spotted Owls?”
    Steven agreed.
    “Maybe they don’t give a hoot,” I joked. I thought it was pretty funny. But neither one of them laughed. I was beginning to catch on that zombies didn’t laugh very much.
    We ran another lap. Kids trotted slowly, lurching and stumbling. One boy staggered right into the gym wall and then fell flat on his butt. No one seemed to notice.
    It felt good to run, even slowly. We didn’t get much exercise at this school. I think that’s because the undead kids were afraid of body parts falling off.
    I let Angelo and Steven run ahead. I wanted a little freedom. A few moments to stretch my muscles and move by myself.
    Halfway around the gym again, I thought I saw some kids watching me.
    I scolded myself.
Matt, don’t start imagining things. You’ve got them all fooled — remember?
    But I wasn’t imagining it. I passed the locker room door and kept trotting. Some boys moved forward to trot right behind me.
    I saw others turn and stare.
    What was up with that? Just about everyone was staring hard at me now as we all lapped the gym.
    My heart started to race. I knew something was wrong. But what could it be?
    As I came around again, I grabbed the handle to the locker room door. I pulled the door open and hurried inside.
    The air was hot and steamy in the narrow locker room. Someone had left a shower running.
    I hurried up to the mirror. I saw kids coming up behind me. What had I done wrong? Why were they chasing after me?
    Frantically, I rubbed the mist off the mirror with my hand. I stared into the glass.
    I knew instantly that I’d made two mistakes.
    The first mistake: I was sweating. Zombies do not sweat.
    Mistake number two: The blue makeup. My sweat made the blue makeup run. And it had run onto my white gym T-shirt.
    A deep blue stain ran around the collar of the shirt.
    I spun around. A large gang of boys had jammed the locker room. Most of them were staring at the sweat pouring down my face and the ring of blue on my shirt.
    “Uh … this isn’t what it looks like,” I said. “I mean … I was testing something … for Halloween. I mean …”
    My explanation was not going over.
    A huge mountain of a kid grabbed the front of my shirt. He rubbed a hand on my sweaty cheeks. And the blue makeup came off on his fingers.
    “Uh-oh,” he said softly. “Uh-oh. Uh-oh.”

28
    He pulled my T-shirt tighter. And then he blinked a few times, startled. “Hey — this dude has a heartbeat!” he boomed. “I can hear it. A heartbeat!”
    Uh-oh.
    No way to talk my way out of this one.
    Their angry cries rang out through the steamy air.
    I ducked my head and took off. I darted right between the big guy’s legs.
    Hands grabbed for me. Guys stumbled toward me.
    But I ran right through