The Counterfeit Zombies of Noc

By Jessica Crichton and Jessica Suzanne

Eleven-year-old Tabitha Tate was happy on Earth. She had friends there, a home, and a bright future as a brilliant scientist.

Then it all went down the bathtub drain.

Now, Ta

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessica Crichton
• Release date: Apr 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869338426

Jessica Crichton

Jessica Crichton was first a writer, then a mother of five great kids who are now not-so-little, and she loves being both! ​ She lives in Washington state with her husband Larry, and spends most of her free time thinking about the looniest things on and off the planet. Some of them she even writes down!​ She also has one of those fancy master's degrees in writing, but she usually just breaks the rules she learned anyway. How else could she be her weirdest?​Otherwise, Jessica loves Dr. Who, plays D&D, Bioshock, and Skyrim, and sings karaoke whenever possible. Her favorite dinosaur is the triceratops, and her favorite color is burnt orange, in case you were wondering.

Book preview

A drawing of a boat with people standing on it Description automatically generated

Chapter 2: Swimming Chickens

Crying stinks.

I mean, you get all red and gross-looking so everyone and their dog knows you’ve been crying, and then people either ignore you or feel like they totally, super, have to ask you what’s wrong, which is the absolute worst.

Like what, you want me to cry even more?

Thanks.

But the very worst thing of all is when you’re crying and don’t even know why.

I mean, I’d been embarrassed plenty of times before, just like anyone else I guess, but I’d always just shook it off. This time I couldn’t. This time it hurt way more, and I had no idea why.

What’s up, Glory? Roach asked as I rounded a corner looking for somewhere secret to cry. I stopped just in time not to run right over her.

Oh, uh… nothing, I stammered. Then I looked away so she wouldn’t see my red face. I’m cool.

Roach didn’t buy it of course. Neither would I.

"Sure. I seen the Sticks cryin’ lots bafor an’ there ain’t never nothin’ wrong."

I’m not a Stick, I muttered, still looking away.

’Course ya ain’t, Roach said. Ya gotta name, don’t’cha?

That stung even worse, and suddenly I knew the answer to why.

Yeah, I said. I sure do.

Roach moved around to look closer at my face. Issat what’s wrong?

What? I sniffed.

Yer name.

For a crazy, cockroach-riding Kid, Roach sure can be observant.

I slid down the wall to the floor and curled into a ball, pushing my face against my crossed arms. Can you keep a secret?

I felt Roach slide down next to me. I dunno.

Great, I said, rolling my eyes. "That gives me tons of confidence."

I don’t wanna promise nothin’ I can’t do, is all.

That’s fair. I looked up and sniffed again, drying my eyes on my sleeve. "I… don’tknowwhatmynamemeans."

Roach snorted. I don’t, neither.

I’m serious, I said. "I have no idea what glory means."

Her eyes went wide. "Really?"

"I know! My eyes started to sting again. It’s like a total crime here not to know what your name means!"

It ain’t even that, Roach said. "Ya can’t have a name if ya don’t know what it means. How ya gonna be Glory if ya don’t know what a glory