Zom-B by Darren Shan Read Free Book Online Page A

then sink lower than I ever thought I would, and make a few soft, gorilla-like grunting noises.
    Nancy shrieks and slaps me. I laugh.
    “Is that the hardest you can hit?” I mock her.
    She slaps me again, a flurry of feeble blows. I don’t even bother to raise my hands to protect myself. “Help me!” I yell theatrically. “She’s gone mad. I think she has rabies. Don’t let her bite. I’m afraid she’ll–”
    One of Nancy’s rings catches my cheek and tears into it. I hiss and slap her away. A thin trickle of blood flows from the cut. The sight of it goads Nancy on. She throws herself at me and grapples for my eyes with her nails, kicking my shins, screaming shrilly. I put a hand on her face to push her away. She bites my fingers.
    I grit my teeth and tear my hand free. Nancy goes for my eyes again. Losing my temper, I step back and let fly, a real punch. My fist hits the side of her face and she goes down. She lands hard and cries out. I start after her to finish her off, but Elephant and Kray get in my way.



“Easy, B,” Kray says. “She’s not as tough as you.”
    “I don’t care,” I shout. “She bit me. I’m gonna–”
    “B Smith!” someone roars.
    I look up and groan. It’s Stuttering Stan, one of the PE teachers. He doesn’t really stutter but he trips over his tongue sometimes.
    “You’re in for it now,” Nancy cackles, smiling through her tears of pain and anger.
    “You hit me first,” I snarl.
    “Tell it to Stuttering Stan,” she crows.
    I spit at her as if I were a child, then turn and stand to attention, staring directly at Stuttering Stan as he strides towards me, acting as if I’ve done nothing wrong. I know I should feel ashamed of myself, and to a degree I do. But to my surprise and dismay, I also feel smug, because I know Dad would be proud if he could see me now, bringing an interfering black girl down a peg or two.

TEN
    Stuttering Stan takes me to the principal’s office. Very neat, everything in its place. A shining computer in one corner. Diplomas on the walls. A small plaque on her desk, MRS. LYNNE REED, PRINCIPAL, just in case anyone is in any doubt.
    Nancy’s already outside, waiting her turn. I’m sitting across from Mrs. Reed, gaze glued to the floor, waiting for her to start in on me. She transferred here the year that I started, and I was one of the first students she had to discipline, just a couple of days into her new job. I’ve had to explain myself to her a lot of times since then, though in my defense it’s been a while since I was last hauled before her.
    Mrs. Reed flicks through a file, slowly. I’m guessing it’s about me. I try not tofidget. My face is red and I keep my hands tucked under my legs, in case she spots them trembling. I shouldn’t be worried. I’m in trouble, sure, but Dad won’t give me any grief, not when he hears what it was about. Still, I’m in the wrong and Mrs. Reed isn’t the sort of person who makes you feel at ease in a situation like this. She looks like something from an ancient movie, black cape, silver hair, thin-rimmed glasses.
    “I don’t like it when my students fight,” she finally says, putting the file aside.
    “Nancy started it,” I say evenly, careful not to sound like I’m whining.
    “I’ll let Miss Price state her case once I’m through with you,” Mrs. Reed says. “I suspect her story will differ significantly from yours. Please tell me what happened, and try to be honest if you can.”
    I was going to spin it, but that last line stings me. It’s like she’s challenging me. So I decide to hit her with the facts. If I’m going down, I might as well go down with my dignity intact, not whimpering and making up stories.
    “I was having a dig at Tyler.”
    “Tyler Bayor?” she asks.
    “Yeah. Nancy stuck her nose in and told me I was being racist.”
    “Were you?”
    “No.” I scowl. “I mean, yeah, in a way I was, but nothing bad. I said something about his kind not being