Field Trip by Gary Paulsen Read Free Book Online Page B

frantically. The AD glances at us and pauses, thinking, then points at Jacob. “Extra guy! The one in the suit, come over here. You can walk your dog through the shot as the zombies attack; it’s not in the script, but it’s a great image. I’m a brilliant filmmaker.”
    Jacob can only gape. Brig and I give him a mighty shove that propels him halfway to the AD. She grabs his arm and starts talking fast and pointing. She pulls a few pages from her clipboard and speaks into her walkie-talkie as she thrusts them into Jacob’s hands.
    Out of nowhere, another girl with a headset grabs Jacob’s arm and hustles him and Conor into a semitruck marked MAKEUP.
    “Hrf,” I hear Atticus grunt, and I turn to look at him. For once, he seems to approve of Conor. He settles down to nap.
    For the next hour, Dad, Brig, Charlotte, Atticus, and I are waiting for filming to start and watching the crew adjust the lighting as night falls. Charlotte reads us the cast and crew’s credits, as well as reviews of the book the movie is based on. Brig eats a snack of fried pork rinds and black olives dipped in peanut butter; the rest of us edge away from him.
    Jacob finally emerges from the makeup trailer, Conor trotting behind him. I only know it’s Jacob by his suit; his face is covered in zombie makeup. The makeup people worked on Conor, too; his fur is matted with mud. They run over to us.
    “I only have a minute before we start shooting. I wanted to get some quick pictures with you while I’m in makeup.”
    We stagger to our feet, brush dust off our butts, and straighten our clothes.
    Atticus always acts like he hates having his picture taken, but I notice that he’s not pulling his face away when Jacob adjusts the angle of his nose and tells him, “That’s it! That’s your best side. Remember, now: always have them shoot you from the right.”
    Atticus snorts, but I make a mental note to take his picture later and see if he turns his right cheek to me, because I get the feeling Jacob has found Atticus’s inner camera hog.
    “Places, people. Scene twenty-six, invasion of the undead. Three-minute warning,” booms over the sound system.
    “I told you this was going to be the best day ever! But I didn’t even tell you the best part!” Jacob is about to burst. “I have a speaking role: ‘Oh my gosh, he ate her face!’ I’ll be in the credits! Screaming Zombie Number Eight.”
    We all cheer and follow Jacob and Conor on to the set. Atticus cuts away, trots over to the AD, and sits next to her. “He’s more of a behind-the-scenes guy,” I tell Charlotte.
    “Of course; Atticus’s personality is better suited to production rather than talent.” She watches Atticus study the activity around him and beams. “Like me. Jacob and Conor are the hams; we’re the brains.”
    As Dad, Brig, Charlotte, and I are being directed to lie on the ground in various postures indicating a violent end, I try not to grin. A night of filming will put me on track to the tryouts. I know, I know—I’m acting shady. But then they have Charlotte lie so her head is resting on my chest. Her cheek rests on my sternum, and her hair smells amazing. I hope this shoot lasts all night long.
    It’s like Dad always says: sometimes the best way to solve a problem is to hand over a good idea to the universe and see what happens.
    So far, so good.

Atticus: Well, it’s about time.
    Just when I was trying to figure out how to leave him at the next rest stop, that puppy shows what he’s made of.
    I’m not convinced he knew what he was doing, but sometimes I wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. I hope so, because I’m going to need some help with my boy and the boss.
    My boy has something on his mind. His eyes get dark and his mouth gets tight. And I don’t like the way he glances at the boss and then the map or his phone real quick. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but it’s not good. My boy will need my help.
    The boss notices my boy’s face