Fear the Barfitron by M. D. Payne Page B

patted him on the back.
    I had absolutely no idea if it was okay.
    “Where’s Shane?” I asked the Director.
    The Director paced behind his desk and stared at us. And stared at us. And stared at us. He looked very, very angry. And still he didn’t say anything.
    Two Nurses guarded the door. The office itself was actually quite warm and inviting—books on the shelves, a small fireplace, a nice view of the hillside. The furnishings were all wood and leather, and therewas a rug that looked like it could have actually been manufactured in the last twenty years.
    “If this is your idea of a joke…,” Gordon started to say to the Director.
    But then Shane came into the room—with the zombie who had lost his arm!
    Shane gave the arm, which had been reattached, a shake.
    “It was great talking with you, too, Billy!” he said as the zombie turned to leave. “If they ever let you out of here, you should check out the dojo I go to. Remember—start slow—ease your body into it.”
    Shane sat down next to us. We all just stared at him.
    “What’s up, guys?” he asked casually.
    “Wait,” Ben said. “You made it! We thought you were done for! This is crazy! Was that really a zombie?”
    “The zombies are actually pretty chill dudes,” said Shane. “You just have to talk to them on their level, you know what I mean?”
    The Director sat down behind his desk, sinking slowly into his chair. He clasped his hands together, but still said nothing.
    “So…,” Gordon said, “can we go now?”
    “No,” the Director said, “you cannot go now. Nor can you go…ever. I’ve made up my mind—you can never leave this place. You’ve seen too much, and…”
    The Director hesitated for a moment.
    “…and I need your help with the residents.”
    “Wait!” I yelled. “You can’t just keep us here!”
    “Actually, I can,” the Director said. There was not a hint of joking in his voice.
    “What are you going to tell our parents when they come looking for us?” I asked.
    “Oh, your parents will never come looking for you,” the Director said.
    “Don’t you dare hurt them,” I said.
    The Director grinned and said, “I’m not going to hurt your parents. I have some rare monsters—”
    Gordon interrupted the Director with a loud snicker.
    “Yes, monsters—in the very same wing where I caught you. One of them is a jungle worm that can crawl into the brain of its victim through the nose and eat their memories. We’ll introduce a few to your parents, and they’ll soon forget they ever had children. We’ll do the same to your teachers. To your principal. To your grandparents, if in fact they still exist. Your friends might miss you, but who will believe a kid who talks about imaginary friends? The worms hurt terribly, but your parents won’t remember that, either. So I won’t, technically, be hurting them.”
    “That’s disgusting,” said Ben, and let out a little burp. “Oh, man, someone get me out of here!”
    “What an idiotic plan,” I said.
    I stood up, crossed my arms, and looked right into the Director’s eyes. He looked genuinely surprised.
    “Excuse me?” he asked.
    “That plan would never work,” I said. “You’d have to erase too many memories
and
official records. Do you think the whole school district is just going to ignore all the records of missing students? What about our IM screen names?”
    There was a moment of silence as the Director and I stared at each other.
    “Good point!” whispered Shane.
    “Yeah,” said Gordon. “This is a bunch of baloney! Where are the cameras, Director Dude? You’ve certainly got enough actors around. That old vampire bit was a hoot.”
    Now I turned to Gordon.
    “Wake up dude; this is for
real!
” I said.
    “For real….” Ben curled up into a ball on his chair.
    “You have seen too much,” snapped the Director. “You know about the vampires. The werewolves. It’s hard
not
to notice the zombies, and I presume you’ve seen a few of the