Free Dawn of the Jed by Scott Craven Page A

you’re thinking there’s a little bit of wishing that went on too? Because that’s pretty out there.”
    “I brought a dead dog back to life. As far as I’m concerned, there is no such thing as too out there.”
    Anna nodded. More importantly, she was still holding my hand.
    “It’s still freaky, Jed,” she said. “I’m assuming this Tread incident has something to do with you and Luke not being on the best of terms?”
    I thought back to when I saw Luke’s face as Tread first began to twitch. It hit me what that look was. The same one Anna had given me a few minutes ago.
    Fear.
    “Anna,” I said, letting go of her hand. “Are you, you know. Are you, uh … ”
    “What? Spit it out. Whatever you need to ask, I’ll answer.”
    “I need you to promise you’ll tell me the truth.”
    “Always, Jed. What is it?”
    “Are you scared of me?”
    Anna looked down. I hated that. That never meant good news. I shut my eyes, bracing for the worst.
    Then her hand slipped under mine.
    “No, I’m not.”
    I opened my eyes and looked up. This time Anna’s look told me one thing. She was being honest. I could feel it.
    “It’s still weird,” Anna said, leaning down to pet Tread, who’d fallen asleep. “I’ll admit that. But I think I know you pretty well. And you’re right, you can’t turn people into zombies. This was just one of those things, I guess.”
    I took a deep breath, which I rarely do because oxygen is not on a zombie’s “must have” list. But I found that every now and then, I would take on a human tendency, like taking a deep breath to relieve tension. It worked, most times.
    “Thanks, I can’t tell you how much that means to me,” I said. “Now, you think you can talk to Luke? He’s definitely not OK with what happened.”
    “Sorry, that’s between you two,” Anna said. “Besides, you and I have something to deal with. This anti-zombie flyer. But it’s getting late, and I’ve got to be home soon. Meet me early before school in the quad. Let’s see if we can figure this out.”
    We headed out of the bedroom, Tread right on our heels as we went down the steps.
    “Anna, thanks for being in my corner,” I told her as I opened the front door. “I thought this semester might be easier. Now I’m not so sure.”
    She gave me a peck on the cheek, and if zombies blushed, I did it right then.
    “No worries, Jed. You still have a lot of friends. We just have to come together and figure out who your enemies are.”

Chapter Ten

     
    “Do you know the combination?” Anna asked as I spun the dial.
    “Yeah. And running into Robbie when I’m still sort of sleepy makes for a very bad combination.”
    “Not what I meant.”
    “I know.”
    I kept working the lock, more out of anger than trying to open the dang locker. I hated using my left hand, which I needed only for tasks requiring both arms. Tying shoes, buttoning shirts, that kind of thing. I left the important stuff to my right arm. Eating. Throwing stuff. Holding Anna’s hand.
    I would give my right arm to have my right arm. Except my right arm was inside this locker I was attempting to open. My limb and I were separated by a flimsy bit of sheet metal made stronger over the decades by forty-seven layers of battleship-gray paint. Seriously, did any middle school built after 1980 even have lockers? Between laptops and tablets and smartphones, my workload comes down to about three pounds and fits easily in my backpack. The only thing in my own locker is a 1953 brochure called “You and Wood Safety: Staying Sharp Around Sharp Tools” handed out by Mr. Anderson, the Woodshop teacher. (“You will take this home. You will memorize it. It will one day save your life.”)
    Even worse, I had no idea who owned this locker. If anyone did.
    “Jed, isn’t it a bit too early to be a victim again?” Anna said as she unzipped my backpack and started digging for the necessary items to put the arm back in place. Assuming I’d get this locker