Choker

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events,
real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters,
places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination,
and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Alloy Entertainment
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Produced by Alloy Entertainment
151 West 26th Street, New York, NY 10001

Book design by Andrea C. Uva
The text for this book is set in Sabon.
Manufactured in the United States of America
2 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Woods, Elizabeth Emma.
Choker / Elizabeth Woods.
p. cm.
Summary: Teenaged Cara, solitary and bullied in high school, is delighted to
reconnect with her childhood best friend Zoe whose support
and friendship help Cara gain self-confidence, even as her classmates start dying.
ISBN 978-1-4424-1233-0 (hardcover)
[1. Best friends—Fiction. 2. Friendship—Fiction. 3. Mental illness—Fiction.
4. High schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.W86346Ch 2011
[Fic]—dc22
2010034672
ISBN 978-1-4424-1235-4 (eBook)

For Jess

prologue

“C
OME OUT, COME OUT, LITTLE FROG. WE’VE MADE YOU
a nest. It’s under a log.” Zoe’s clear voice piped through the shaggy thicket of honeysuckle. Nine-year-old Cara stuck a leaf in the little heap of grass and paused to gaze at her best friend.

Zoe sat cross-legged in a little patch of sunlight that filtered through the arching branches overhead. The sun gleamed off her long, blue-black hair, as if reflecting off a pool of water. She must have sensed Cara’s eyes because she turned and fixed Cara with her intense violet stare. She smiled. “Maybe tonight a frog will come and sleep in our nest,” she said.

Cara nodded and patted the nest she and Zoe had arranged in the woods behind Zoe’s house. “Then in the morning, we can creep down here, really quietly, and peek in—”

“And he’ll be all curled up, snoring!” Zoe finished, dissolving into laughter. The two girls grinned at each other. Then Zoe’s face lit up. “Hey—” She scooted over until her blue-jeaned knee pressed against Cara’s. “Do you want to see a secret my mom has in her room?” she whispered. Her breath was hot on Cara’s cheek.

Cara’s heart beat a little faster. It always did when Zoe got that intense look in her eyes. That look meant something exciting was going to happen. “Won’t we get in trouble?” she whispered back.

Zoe’s hot, sweaty hand closed around Cara’s. “It’s okay. No one’s home.” She pulled Cara to her feet.

The two girls crept out of the honeysuckle. A dog, hearing their movement, barked fiercely on the other side of the high wooden fence. Cara jumped and tripped over a rusty tricycle lying on its side. Broken plastic toys lay strewn everywhere in the small backyard. Tipsy pine trees dripped their branches over the long grass.

Zoe pushed open the rusty screen door and led the way into a little dark hallway. The house smelled of old eggs. Boxes were piled up everywhere. Cara followed her friend up a narrow flight of stairs and into a small front bedroom with windows overlooking the sidewalk.

Zoe tiptoed over to a small, old-fashioned wooden table on one side of the bed. Cara felt nervous excitement bubble in her stomach. She couldn’t help giggling. “Won’t your mom get mad that we’re in her room?” she half-whispered to Zoe as she looked around. The bed was a sea of rumpled sheets and blankets. Clothes were draped over the back of an easy chair and strewn on the carpet, as if someone had left in a hurry. Through the smeary glass, Cara could just make out the neat white shutters of her own house across the street.

Zoe didn’t answer. Cara heard the scrape of wood and turned around to see her wrestling with a little drawer in the table. “Wait, I’ll help you,” Cara said, putting her hand over Zoe’s on the wooden knob. Together they pulled one more time. The drawer screeched open.

“Got it!” Zoe stuck her hand in the drawer and pulled out a small orange bottle of pills. She held it up triumphantly. Cara’s eyes widened. “They’re like zombie pills,” Zoe said. “They make you reeaallly spaaccey.” She held her arms out in front of her, the bottle still clutched in one hand, and staggered around the room with her eyes closed, bumping into the dresser. “Ow.” She giggled, opening her eyes. “Want to see?” Zoe extended the bottle toward Cara.

Gingerly, Cara accepted the small orange bottle. Just holding it felt deliciously scary. She rotated the bottle around until she could see the label, but it was full of long medicine words ending in “-zol” and “-zone.” The only part she could understand read
Take one (1) per day with food. Do not miss a dose. Doing so could cause recurrence of symptoms.