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It was made of books.
Large books formed the creature’s chest and torso, and groups of them were arranged into powerful-looking legs and arms. Its neck was made up of smaller books. A giant, unabridged dictionary formed the creature’s large, square head.
Cal froze next to Baru. “Um . . . ,” he said. “What is that?”
“I think it’s a man-made monster,” Baru said. He looked to Mary for confirmation.
“Actually, it’s woman-made,” Charlotte pointed out.
Mary folded her arms and nodded. “I hoped to build something to fight these things off,” she said. “Or at least distract them so we could continue to pen our books.”
“I told her it wouldn’t work,” Ann said. “But Mary always did have a wild imagination.”
Mary put her hand on the monster’s dictionary head as if touching a loved one.
“Nothing I can do will bring this to life,” Mary said. “In the book I’m writing now, electricity is used to animate the doctor’s creation.”
Baru almost blurted out that he’d read Frankenstein. He wasn’t sure if saying something like that in the Midnight Library would mess up Mary Shelley’s work in the real world. He remembered that in her classic horror book, it was hinted that Dr. Frankenstein used electricity from a storm to bring the creature to life.
In the old movies, the monster was a large-headed creature with bolts in its neck. Wires were attached to the bolts. Then electricity traveled down the wires, through the bolts, and jolted life into the creation.
“I’d hoped a lightning strike might bring my creature to life,” Mary said. She looked up at the stormy sky. “But it seems . . . unlikely.”
Baru studied the lifeless book monster. “No neck bolts,” he whispered. He wiped some rain from his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” Cal asked.
“I can see the wheels spinning, Baru,” Javier said.
“We have to rid this cathedral of those zombie monks so the three of them can continue writing,” Baru said. “I think that’s why we’re here.”
“Easier said than done,” Kelly said. “We have no idea how many more of those things are out there, and they eat books like candy. What happens when they get a taste for something a little meatier?”
“I’m not about to have some zombie chewing on me,” Jordan said. “They can eat every one of these books for all I care.”
I’d hoped a lightning strike might bring my creature to life, Mary’s voice repeated inside Baru’s head.
He looked up at the broken cathedral roof. Am I seeing things? he wondered. He wiped his eyes clear again, then squinted up into the night sky. In the glimmering moonlight, Baru saw something that Mary would also call “unlikely.”
Baru saw a kite.
“If the creature won’t attract lightning,” Baru whispered, “maybe we can.”
“Is he talking to himself?” Cal asked the others.
“Or the monster?” said Kelly.
Baru snapped out of it and looked at the group. “I have an idea,” he said. “But I need your help.”
“What do you need?” Jordan asked.
“Neck bolts,” Baru said. “Something we can use to give Mary’s monster a jolt.”
“Would nails work?” Kelly asked. She touched a large twisted nail that held one of the rickety shelves together.
The groaning of the zombie monks grew louder as they neared the choir loft.
“As long as they’re metal, I believe so,” Baru said. “But the rest of you need to keep those undead fiends away from here. We have to keep the notebooks safe!”
Before anyone could stop him, Baru jumped up onto the ledge of the giant stained-glass window that overlooked the loft.
“Where are you going?” Javier shouted over the thunder.
“To see if I can power up our sleeping book friend!” Baru cried.
CHAPTER SIX
Key to Life
Baru climbed. It was wet, slippery, and difficult, but he climbed up the side of the broken window. Much of the stained glass had fallen out, but the metal framework still stuck out of the surrounding stone. Baru gripped the thin metal bars, using them as a ladder. He made his way higher and higher.
Baru glanced over his shoulder. Down below, he saw his friends and the authors do their best against the zombie monks. Javier and the authors pulled down shelves and laid them across the top of the stairwell as a barrier, even as the zombies climbed the stairs toward them.
I need to hurry, Baru thought. He hoped what he’d seen earlier was truly a kite and not just something he had imagined. If the kite meant what Baru thought it meant, his plan just might work.
He reached the top of the cathedral’s roof and pulled himself up onto the slick surface. Clouds flickered and flashed with lightning. Jagged bolts of electricity shot down from the sky and hit nearby trees. Baru was glad he hadn’t told his friends what his plan was. They would never have let him go.
“Get out of here!” came a voice. “Don’t you see we’re in the middle of a terrible storm?”
Baru turned around and saw a short and pudgy old man. He wore short pants with white socks pulled up high. His black shoes each had a large buckle on top. He wore a purplish coat over a button down shirt. But what gave him away were his circular glasses and his long, rain-soaked hair. And also the fact that he was flying a kite in the middle of a lightning storm.
“Benjamin Franklin?” Baru asked, standing up.
“Of course I am,” Ben said. “Do I know you?”
“Probably not,” Baru said. “My name is Baru, and I need your help.”
“Apologies,” Ben said. “But as you can see, I am terribly busy.”
Ben steered his kite, tugging at the roll of string in his hands. It seemed he was trying to guide it into the flashiest of clouds. Baru looked up and saw that, sure enough, a large skeleton key was tied to the string.
“Have you caught anything yet, Mr. Franklin?” Baru asked. “Any electricity?”
Ben’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do you know . . . ?”
“There’s no time,” Baru said. “I just need to use your key once lightning strikes it.”
“For what purpose?” Ben asked. “I fear it’s much too dangerous a task.”
Baru saw there were two pairs of metal tongs on the roof. The handles were covered with what look like rubber. He guessed Ben planned to use the tongs to safely handle the electrified key.
Two tongs, Baru thought. If they managed to put two neck bolts into the monster . . .
“I’m going to need two power sources,” Baru said. “If only I had another . . .” He reached into his pocket and felt the familiar metal shape inside. “. . . key,” Baru said, pulling the small key for his bike lock from his pocket. “Any chance you could tie this one up there too?”
After quickly explaining his plan, Baru knew Ben Franklin’s curiosity had gone through the roof. In a matter of minutes, Ben had tied Baru’s key next to his and sent thekite back up. As the storm raged above them, Baru grew anxious. Lightning was crackling everywhere, but none of it struck their keys.
“This isn’t going to work,” Baru whispered. He glanced down again and saw his friends were nearly surrounded by the undead invaders. They needed his help—and quickly.
Baru was about to thank Ben for trying when the sky exploded. A jagged bolt of lightning raced from the churning clouds. It struck both keys in one shot.
ZZZAAAASHHHHHHHHHH!
The keys glowed white with energy. Wisps of electricity crackled along their metal surfaces.
“Reel them in!” Baru cried. “I’ll grab them with the tongs!”
Ben pulled the kite down from the storm, and Baru took a deep breath. Please don’t let me get zapped, he thought. He squinted, preparing for a shock as he grabbed the keys with the tongs. Thankfully, the rubber handles protected him. The arms of the tongs vibrated with energy as Ben cut the string away.
“Now I just need to get down there,” Baru said.
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Ben Franklin gazed down at the weird battle below them. “How quickly?” he asked with a smile.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Book Beast
In the choir loft, Jordan threw another book at a zombie. The zombie stared up toward the roof. Jordan followed the creature’s gaze and glanced upward. “Who’s that?” she cried.
A small boy dangled on a thin rope high in the air above them.
Mary Shelley squinted at the hanging figure, shielding the rain from her eyes with her hand. “It’s your friend,” she said.
High above, Baru didn’t look down. There were too many things that could go wrong. The rope could come loose. The keys could lose their charge. Lightning could strike him at any moment. Swinging back and forth might make him throw up. The zombie monks could eat the authors’ notebooks—or worse, his friends.
Baru held the crackling keys away from his body as Ben Franklin lowered him down to the choir loft. When his shoes touched the wet floor, he was relieved. Carefully Baru moved both tongs to one hand and loosened the knot. The rope dropped from around his waist. With a smile, he glanced skyward and gave Ben Franklin a thumbs-up.
Confused, Ben returned the gesture.
Time to move, Baru thought, racing through the maze of rickety shelves. He splashed through puddles and slipped past wandering zombies until he found the book monster. The others were nowhere to be seen, but he was thankful that someone had pounded a large nail into each side of the creature’s neck.
“Nice neck bolts,” Baru whispered. “Let’s hope this works!”
As he stood above the head of Mary’s creation, a footstep shuffled behind him. Without a moment to spare, he used the tongs to touch the keys to the makeshift neck bolts.
There was a muffled hum as the electricity jumped from the keys into the book monster’s body. Immediately, the creature stirred. The covers of the dictionary head opened and shut.
“It’s alive!” Mary shouted from atop a nearby shelf. “It’s alive!”
The other two authors cheered as the creature sat up. It clambered off of the table just as a couple of zombies drew near.
“Get those guys!” Baru shouted.
The book monster wobbled on shaky legs and walked headfirst into a bookshelf, nearly knocking it over.
Oh, perfect! Baru thought. Our fighter is blind!
The first zombie lumbered over to the creature and sank its yellowed teeth into the book beast’s leg.
Baru climbed up onto the table and leapt onto the book beast’s back. He had dropped the keys but still held the tongs. He used them—one in each hand—to grasp the neck bolts.
“C’mon, Booky!” Baru cried. “We have to fight them off!”
With a twist, Baru turned the monster around so that it could face the monkish foes. Tightening the tongs’ grips on the bolts made the monster’s arms quiver with energy. One arm flailed out in a powerful punch. With the force of a semi truck, Booky knocked one of the zombies to pieces. The other was launched over a shelf and out of sight.
“Yes!” Jordan shouted from a nearby shelf. “Knock out!”
“Put these library invaders out of circulation!” cried Kelly.
Baru steered Booky toward the approaching mass of zombies. With Baru’s help, the creature punched and swung its heavy arms. The menacing zombie monks fell, one by one. One of them was launched into the bookshelf that Cal sat atop. As the shelf teetered, Cal leapt to another. The heavy bookcase behind him fell, flattening the zombie beneath its weight.
“Guess that zombie just couldn’t help its-shelf,” Kelly joked from her perch atop another bookshelf.
Charlotte shook her head. “Awful,” she said.
Baru watched as three more zombies approached. One of them slammed into the bookshelf that Mary was crouching on. The shelf wobbled, knocking the author off-balance and nearly throwing her into the mass of the undead. A rotten hand grabbed the hem of Mary’s dress. As she struggled, her notebook slipped from her fingers.
One of the zombie monks lunged. It snapped up Mary’s beloved notebook and opened its mouth full of decayed teeth.
“No!” Baru shouted. Gripping the tongs tight, he steered Booky toward the literary attackers.
The zombie’s teeth cleaved through one part of the notebook as the book beast wound up to strike.
I’m too late, Baru thought. It’s going to eat Frankenstein!
CHAPTER EIGHT
Overdue It
Baru slammed Booky into the hungry zombie monk, knocking the rotten fiend off its feet.
Jordan jumped down from a shelf and snatched the mangled notebook from its mouth. As the creature reached to grab her, Jordan turned to Mary.
“Catch!” she cried, tossing the notebook into the air.
Mary reached out and missed. Kelly dove to the floor, between the zombie’s legs, and caught the notebook. She tossed it sideways to Cal who was running past her. He grabbed the notebook and returned it to its author. Mary looked through what was left of her work. Baru thought she looked happy.
“Let’s finish this fight, Booky!” Baru yelled.
As the remaining zombies staggered into the loft, Baru guided the book monster straight at them. Booky grabbed one of the monks and swung it like a club, knocking two more of them into meaty pieces.
“Oh, gross,” Kelly cried. “They smell like rotten butts and nightmares!”
Ann laughed from her shelf and jotted something into her notebook.
Two zombies latched onto Booky’s right arm. Before Baru could react, they tore it free.
“No!” Baru shouted.
Without hesitation, the monsters devoured the arm books. They left nothing but bindings and page fragments. Behind them, another zombie approached.
We’re horribly outnumbered, Baru thought. He only remembered seeing nine of them, but he wasn’t sure how many lurked in the other dark places.
Using the left tong and neck bolt, Baru directed Booky to swing. The monster’s fist hit the mushy flesh of a nearby zombie’s face. It groaned and slumped to the ground. Pulling back on the tong, Booky raised the monster’s fist and conked it down on another zombie head. As soon as it hit the floor, it stopped moving.
“Two more down!” Baru shouted.
“Only a few left,” Cal cried. He was using a loose board from one of the shelves as a baseball bat. “We’re crushing them!”
Kelly and Jordan flung more books at the remaining monks to keep them from advancing on the authors.
Booky turned and faced the next opponent. With its remaining left arm, Booky swung, catching the zombie monk in the jaw. The blow sent it crashing into the table. It fell with a watery wheeze, then went silent.
“Last one, big guy!” Baru shouted. “We’ve got this!”
But something was wrong. Booky was slowing down.
No, no, Baru thought. Not yet!
He turned Booky toward the final zombie to see if the creature could manage one last punch. It swung its fist, but it barely did any damage. The zombie monk wobbled on its feet. Sensing that Booky was weak, the zombie attacked. It bit into Booky’s neck and knocked one of the bolts loose.
“No!” Baru shouted.
The monster teetered and toppled, bringing Baru down with it.
As Baru hit the ground, he heard the zombie tearing through Booky’s body. Wet pages were ripped. Covers were shredded. Baru felt helpless, wondering if he was going to be next.
That’s when he heard screaming.
They’re eating my friends! Baru thought.
He scrambled out from under Booky’s broken body. Ann, Charlotte, Mary, and Javier were leaping from shelves like warriors. They were armed with heavy tomes, which they swung at the zombie. Jordan, Kelly, and Cal joined the fight.
Between the seven of them, the last zombie had its hands full.
They knocked the zombie away from Booky, watching it crash to the ground. The cathedral’s undead plague was over.
Baru stood up, grateful but shaken. H
e looked down at Booky. It wasn’t moving. Baru scrambled over to the table and picked up his bike key and Ben’s skeleton key. He touched the metal to the remaining neck bolt.
Nothing happened.
“It’s done,” Mary said, putting her thin hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He fought well. You both did.”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen to him,” Baru said. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Mary said. “Watching this brave fellow—”
“Booky,” Kelly said. “Baru called him Booky.”
“Yes, yes. Booky,” Mary said. “Interesting name. Watching him come to life has inspired me to finish my own monster story.”
“And we can always rebuild him,” Charlotte said. “There are plenty of books.”
“We can make him better, stronger,” Ann added.
“Hmm. Maybe I’ll change the title of my book,” Mary said. “Maybe I’ll call it Booky . . .”
Oh no! thought Baru. We just rewrote history. Mary Shelley can’t give her book that name!
Somewhere, a distant clock gonged.
As it did, everything turned bright white, as if struck by lightning.
And just like that, the library changed back.
Epilogue
Baru opened his eyes. He was standing beside Javier and the Midnight Library Pages. The old, broken clock in the center of the library loomed above them. The hands were stuck at twelve noon, or midnight. No one was sure which.
A working clock near the information desk read 12:01. As always, only a minute had passed during their time in the “other” library world.
Baru sighed. He felt mixed emotions about their latest adventure. Helping to protect the works of Ann Radcliffe, Charlotte Brontë, and Mary Shelley was a win. But losing the poor book monster left him feeling hollow.
“Sorry about Booky, man,” Cal said. He put a hand on Baru’s shoulder. “You really do love monsters, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Baru said. “Especially that one. I feel bad that I couldn’t keep the zombies from destroying him.”