“Summer camp! For geniuses!?” Amber chortled, nearly choking on her milk.

“The Einstein Engineering and Physics Summer Academic Program is nothing to laugh at. I have no idea why Cross did.” Scott said primly, downing a tater tot. It was lunchtime, and since they had to talk shop they’d convened to the picnic table outside, around the corner of the building. The only other person there was a guy in a hoodie, playing with his phone. He was too far away to hear them if they talked a bit quietly.

“I have no idea.” Amber said, picturing Scott at summer camp. A thin, pasty kid in the hot sun making lanyards by skeleton assembly line, nature hikes looking for dead animals (carried by a reanimated bear, of course), winning canoe races with zombie rowers as he called out directions form a megaphone…she put her face down on the picnic table, shoulders shaking. It was what he’d really do. Good lord, it was what he’d really do.

“Anyway, thanks to that loudmouth Mrs. Talbot-grr, I’ll slap a curse on her at some point-my parents think I’m some kind of genius who only comes once a century. Accurate of course, but not in the fields they think. But once again I’ve turned entrapment into opportunity. I’m supposed to get picked up by ‘em after school, you coming?” he asked.

“Sure. But Scott, why not tell your parents about your real studies? I’m sure they’d understand, after they got over the shock. Mine did.” Amber said. She’d been meaning to broach this subject for awhile now, but never had the chance.

“Yeah, right.” Scott snorted. “If I told them, even if I know they’d love me no matter what, still not something I like to go around trumpeting.” he said, taking a bite of sandwich. With Amber privately thinking ‘Could have fooled me’, he continued. “If I did, that would be a hassle that I really don’t need. Plus, I’m super guilty of graverobbing, remember. Not exactly news you wanna bring home to your mom. Hey mom, guess what! I’ve not only broken the laws of man and human decency, but nature too! Watch me animate these zombies and make a barbershop quartet!”

“And while the gesture was nice and appreciated, that was not an appropriate birthday present.” Amber glowered at him. Lord only knew how he’d done it, but training zombies to sing in harmony while she blew out her candles wasn’t very appetizing. He even tried to get them to do a soft-shoe routine, but that was apparently too much for their rotted ligaments.

“Your mom liked it.” Scott countered. Amber sighed and her forehead fell onto the table again.

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Ahh, you know you love me.” he smirked, winking. She blushed and looked away.

“Crap.” she muttered.

“Anyway, while it wouldn’t be the end of the world, it would be the end of life as I know it, and I’d prefer that not happen, if I can help it. Hell, I wouldn’t have told your dad about resurrecting you, ‘cept you just showing up fine and dandy after a funeral would’ve been a tad unusual, to say the least.” he said.

“And so he’d pay.” she added wryly, and he nodded.

“And that. But I’d rather not have to deal with this drug problem at the same time as family drama.”

“Ah, yeah.” Her face fell. “Did you find out anything from the files and the sample?” Scott grimaced.

“Yeah. Yesterday’s little movie wasn’t an isolated incident. People around the world are flipping out with magical powers, though the reports indicate there’s only one manufacturer, based in America, most likely along the eastern seaboard somewhere.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“The distribution patterns and the number of incidents. Even Crenshaw and his lackeys figured that much out. But, as the eastern seaboard is a rather large shipping and industrial zone, not exactly as helpful as it could be. And I’m having precisely zero luck figuring out what this Taboo stuff is made of.” Scott complained, rubbing his forehead.

“Hey, it’ll be okay, you’ll figure it out.” Amber said, squeezing his hand. He smiled gratefully at her.

“Yeah I guess, but holy crap, this’s difficult. Chemical analysis reveals nothing. According to that, it’s pure amphetamines with traces of ecstasy, like he said. It’s obviously supernatural, but I can’t figure out how There should be something, like a sigil or inscription on each one. But that doesn’t work because the people who took it each manifested a different metaphysical technique!” He threw his hands up and slumped on the table. “I’ve managed to establish that the drug implants spells into the brain. We saw it ourselves with Eduardo, he didn’t suddenly gain the ability to raise the dead, he gained the knowledge to do so, and slightly tweaked at that. The more you take, the more you know, and it accumulates in the body. That would be bad enough, power goes to people’s heads, but when you add in the amphetamines…”

“A recipe for disaster.” Amber finished glumly. Scott nodded. “And whoever’s making these things are targeting teenagers. Us. It makes me sick. I have to deal with enough crap as it is, I don’t want to add preternatural methheads to the list.”

“Ditto. But at least I get paid for it. I mean, it’s not like I-uuurr.” Goosebumps broke out on his skin as he clutched himself for warmth. Despite the sunshine of the near-summer day, a cold wind of, in his estimation, approximately negative 70,000 degrees blew across them. “Wh-What’s going on?”

“I d-don’t k-know. F-Feels l-like w-w-winter.” Amber said, teeth chattering. “L-Look, o-over there.” She pointed a shaking finger at the guy in the hoodie. He was doubled over, mumbling to himself.

“H-Hey!” Scott called, shuffling over as fast as he could. It was rapidly getting worse; the sky was turning grey, the wind was picking up, and white flakes were beginning to drift down. Shorts weren’t suited for this at all. “D-D’you have s-something to do with th-this?” Instead of answering, the guy kept muttering. “Answer me, damn it!” He grabbed the guy’s arm, and was shocked to realize he was ice-cold, emitting freezing air instead of body heat.

“Leave me alone.” The guy yanked his arm back, and curled up to mutter more. Now that he was close enough, Scott could make out the words.

“-astinogth, maloycen to zu vibn callmagh, co va ascin ogath, astinogth, maloycen to zu vibn callmagh, co va ascin ogath…” Scott’s eyes went wide.

“No! Don’t!” he screamed and tackled him, but it was too late. The temperature dipped form Arctic to Antarctic qualities, freezing the insects flying through the air. The wind howled like a wolf, driving the snow to begin piling up. “Damn! Cancel the spell, right now!” Scott commanded. The guy beneath him just started laughing.

“Never. Never, never! Now we can all revel in the wonderful winter, for eternity!” he said, slipping another red pill into his mouth and swallowing. Scott was effortlessly thrown off, the hoodie bursting as the guy chanted more and more.

“Vshena, vshena! Aluum-tous! Vshena, vshena! Hokknlag zptimmam! Vshena, vshena! Aluum-tous! Vshena, vshena! Hokknlag zptimmam! Vshena, vshena! Aluum-tous! Vshena, vshena! Hokknlag zptimmam!” The guy sat up, his clothes tearing and shredding like tissue as his body lengthened and swelled. White fur sprouted from lean muscle wrapping around bone, giving him a thin yet obviously powerful appearance. His skin darkened to a bruise like violet-purple while his face grew gaunt and elongated, black pupil less eyes gleaning with a harsh, icy blue light. “No one shall stop the cold.” He pointed at Scott and the wind blew into him, ice starting to coat over his body.

“Aauuuuuggghh!” Scott moaned as he began to freeze. “C-Crap!” The burning cold was quickly giving way to numbness. “T-T-Tarantulas!” The creature in his bag hissed and leapt out, deftly running across the snow on spindly legs. It reached the former human and ascended up his body, biting into his hide. The furry beast grabbed Tarantulas and ripped it off with a spray of blood, throwing it to the ground. Focusing, the beast opened his mouth.

“Atgava, zofare sozofare!" The snow and wind piled onto Tarantulas, making its’ muscles freeze. The beast bellowed, howling with the wind in victory, not even realizing his former prey was gone.

“Holy crap! This’s bad, this’s bad, Scott! What’re we gonna do!?” Amber asked, furiously rubbing and massaging Scott’s arms and chest. They’d managed to sneak off around the corner, where things were warm and sunny again. Amber blinked, but by now had learned to roll with such strangeness.

“F-First we c-call in C-Cross.” He said, his teeth staring to calm their chattering. “S-She needs to know about this ASAP, she can bring backup. Unfortunately, zombies wouldn’t have much use here even if I brought some. Well, normal zombies at least.” He dug in his bag and pulled out a vial of his specially-cultivated zombie bacteria. Immensely useful, but the cold was simply too much. “That wendigo-ape guy’d just freeze ‘em. Bones would actually be the best bet here, nothing to turn to ice.” He winced as feeling came back into his limbs, tingling fiercely. “Better not catch a cold from this."

“So what, we just let monkey boy do what he wants over there? Because the snow’s getting heavier.” Amber said, peering around the corner.

“A blizzard so close to summer would be disastrous, killing off plants and bugs and everything that depends on them.” Scott muttered, a hand on his chin, going over his options. The enemy was too strong to fight directly, and too dangerous to even approach. They were at school, and though the storm was localized it would spread over the town in short order. He rubbed his temples. School, snowstorm, necromancy…he grinned. “Okay, he needs to build up the snow for right now. Amber, how much money do you have on you?”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly, the school as a whole hadn’t noticed the sudden summer snow shower outside. The walls were thick, and without windows on that side, but it was only a matter of minutes, really. The cold front was slowly expanding, building up energy as the beastman chanted to bury the whole region in white. Scott had to move fast.

He burst into the cafeteria at top speed, leaving outraged squawking behind as he cut through the line.

“Hey!”

“Watch it!”

“’Scuse me, pardon me, sorry ‘but this, literally more important business here, ‘scuse me.” Scott muttered as he grabbed a tray and started loading it up with all the hamburgers it could fit, dancing in and out of line to avoid the other people. He stared at the full tray of chicken nuggets, rubbery and tasteless but still technically meat. He gave up and picked the whole thing up, slamming everything down in front of the confused cashier.

“’Kay, sorry, but I’ve got no idea how much this’d be, keep the change.” He tossed four twenties at her and zoomed off. “Hot, hot! Too hot!” he cried as the tray burned his hands.

“What…what just happened?” the lunch lady said.

“I think he just jacked your food tray.” the next person in line said. “Must’ve been starving.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hurry up! Did you get it?” Amber asked, holding the door open. Her job had been to scout a private place to perform the ritual, and she’d found an empty science lab.

“Ow, ow! Of course!” Scott said, blowing on his fingers. But there was no time for pain. He pulled out a piece of chalk and hurriedly made a circle around the food. “K’tergbohah, zierphium xied galtzga-ahlk. K’tergbohah, zierphium xied galtzga-ahlk. K’tergbohah, zierphium xied galtzga-ahlk.” he chanted as he inscribed the sigils, the circle lighting up a toxic emerald green. The lights flickered, and Amber shuddered as she watched the unnatural creature take form, shaped by dark forces beyond the ken of man and powered by the forsaken and the forbidden. Scott grinned evilly, illuminated by the glow.

“Yes, yes! It’s alive! It’s aliiiiive!” he cackled, throwing his hands up madly.

A passing teacher walked by, carrying tests. She glanced at the experiment in the lab, and the student laughing maniacally. She shook her head.

“Crazy kids.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robert stood proudly, watching the grey in the sky grow. He’d pumped the clouds so full of energy they’d bury the entire country in ice in a week. He smiled as he smelled the snow, so clean and crisp. He dug around in his torn clothing, for another piece of Taboo and swallowed it. He sighed as the rush hit, the surge of energy and knowledge that would be the key to remaking everything into a pure, white world. The current one was far too hot and messy. He’d been blind to it before, but the Taboo had taught the lessons he’d needed, both to see the world as it was, and how it could be. Soon, the only choice would be to accept conversion or perish. He smiled and drew himself up for the final incantation, that would unleash the storm’s fury, soon to cover the country, and eventually spread to cover the planet.

“Somnegh agolorthono estios-”

“WA-HEY!” There was a crash, and Robert looked up to see a small creature hurtle at him and kick him in the jaw.

“What? Who-” he started to growl, when his brain caught up with his eyes. It was a foot and a half tall…breaded chicken man? It struck a kung-fu pose. “What the hell?”

“Surprise, asshole!” Scott said, dropping from the window into the cushioning snow, grinning. “Half-burger, half-nugget, all action! Don’t call this boy chicken, you won’t live to regret it!” He folded his arms while the undead chicken creature started awkwardly shadowboxing. Robert stared at him for a moment.

“…no seriously, what the hell? Are-are you trying to prevent the winter?” he asked uncertainly.

“My boy here’ll bring summer back!” Scott declared. Robert shook his furry head.

“No. The ice and snow, it longs to encase the world in its’ frozen grasp. The winter has taught me the secrets through the Taboo. It tells me, demands that I must set the Eternal Winter free! All must be shown the purity of the snow!” He roared, then brought a fist down at Scott, who dodged out of the way.

“Hey, hey! I don’t get it, but I’m not your opponent! He is!” The lunch zombie hopped forward menacingly. Robert, a full twelve feet taller, was unfazed.

“Chill out.” He pointed a finger at it, sending the freezing air that way. But instead of being a popsicle, it charged right through.

“He’s made form hot lunches! You can’t make him frozen food! He’s not a cold cut here!” Scott laughed confidently. ‘Damn it, that was close! It won’t be able to retain that heat for long!’ The unusual zombie leapt up for a flying kick, but was easily grabbed by the beast’s paw. He sniffed it.

“Huh. Chicken nuggets. You know what my favorite part of a cold day is? A warm meal.” Robert grinned and sank his fangs into it as Scott screamed in horror, chomping off the entire torso in his mouth. “Dhat’s mwhat you ge, foo. Ugh, dis’ dishgusting.” he said, mouth full. Suddenly, he stopped chewing. “Mwha?” Scott gave him an evil grin.

“Sucker.”

“The beast tried to spit it out, but it was too late. The severed hand concealed in the middle of the wriggling meat clenched and broke the vial before it was ejected, releasing the undead germs.

“What did you do?” Robert said, hacking up shards of glass while clutching at his throat. Even his insides were tough, probably enough to withstand the glass, but something felt…wrong. Like there was a tickle in his throat.

“I mean really. Just because something’s made out of food you take a bite out of it? Dumb. Ass.” Scott said while Arnold Palmer scuttled up to his shoulder. He high-fived it.

“You…” Robert narrowed his eyes, and stomped over to smash him.

“Yeah, no. Drop.” The beast collapsed to the ground, numb from the neck down.

“Wh-What!?” he screeched. Then he howled as the pain hit, a white-hot throbbing headache spiking through his brain. Scott stood over him, triumphant.

“Next time you wanna bring an eternal winter, consider the cold of the grave first. Crytomancy is nothing compared to the majesty of necromancy, remember that. Or rather, don’t. Devour the knowledge, guys!” Robert shuddered as his brain tingled, erasing any memory of the spells it once contained. It was a good thing he’d decided to practice targeting specific areas of the brain, Scott reflected. Zombies didn’t need their grey matter, and he wanted to avoid a repeat of what happened with that kid and his tumor.

“I don’t…feel so…guuud…” Robert moaned and passed out, feeling sick. Scott sighed and knelt in the melting snow, turning to water in the warm May sun.

“It’s…over?” Amber said, tiptoeing up from behind the corner and watching Robert morph back.

“Yeah, for now.” Scott said. An ambulance and police car screeched to a halt on the street. The medical workers quickly loaded Robert onto a stretcher, while Cross and Crenshaw exited the cop car. “Well, look who showed up late to the party.” Cross scowled while Crenshaw surveyed the damage and gave a low whistle.

“What happened here?”

“Frosty the Snowman over there decided to go on a rampage to bring about an eternal winter. I disagreed.” Scott said pointing a thumb to Robert, now being loaded into the van.

“Anyone see you?” Cross asked. Scott shook his head.

“No one important, anyway. It was over in what, fifteen minutes?”

“According to my cell phone, eleven.” Amber said, checking it.

“Good work kid. But that’s two from this school now, not including you, with powers.” Cross said, frowning. “We’re wasting time trying to put out every little fire, we have to find the source.”

“Maybe our little friend here could tell us something. But best not get your hopes up, we’ve only been able to get friend of a friend-level connections from those we’ve interviewed. The trails go cold too quickly.” Crenshaw said. He shook his head; there were far too many variables at play, and whoever was distributing these pills was a master at covering their tracks.

“Huh. That sounds familiar, somehow…” Amber said, trying to recall. Cross’s eyes bugged out.

“The Craven Falls Killer!” she burst out.

“My god, that’s it!” Scott said, realizing.

“Something to share, Agent?” Crenshaw asked.

“Yeah, when she was pushing daisies, I was called in to help catch the serial killer. When I got to examine evidence, the locals appeared to be flummoxed by basic stuff. Not to mention, there was precious little to analyze in the first place. It was because of a demon or something.” Cross explained sourly.

“What?” Crenshaw looked alarmed. “Can we stop it, or counter it somehow?”

“Don’t hold your breath.” Scott said flatly. “Stephanie’s ability to not get caught was the result of a daemonic pact. The daemon had blessed her to leave no real trace. I can’t be sure if this’s the work of a daemon or not, but nearly any power can work a ward or a blessing like that.”

“Can you?” Amber asked curiously.

“Anyone who has the knowledge to do so can work one. I probably could, if my repertoire wasn’t quite as limited.” he admitted.

“That’s…great. Just great.” Crenshaw said, rubbing his face. “So our enemy can’t be tracked or identified. Fantastic.”

“Not necessarily.” Scott held up a finger. “I may not know wh-wh-wachoo!” He began coughing and sneezing, and Amber handed him a tissue. “Thanks. Knew I’d get sick. Anyway, I don’t know what cast this blessing, but it only prevents indirect tracking. If you’ve got eyes on ‘em, they’ll be as easy to spot as…achoo! As anyone else. Eugh.” He coughed into the tissue.

“That…helps, but not by much. We can’t find the source if we have to go around physically checking every single place on this side of the country.” Crenshaw said. Cross stared at them, then something clicked. She groaned.

“Damn it. God damn it.” she muttered, drawing looks form everyone. She sighed. “I have an idea. I don’t like it, but it is an idea. If we can’t track ‘em down, we’ll let them come to us instead. We already know that kids from this school have access to Taboo, and presumably have someone who’s the right age and is willing to go undercover. I don’t like involving you kids like this, but you’re in deep already. I propose a sting operation.” she said. Crenshaw rubbed a hand on his chin, considering.

“The idea has merit. I wouldn’t want to involve a consultant in a matter like this either, but…” They all stared at the thirteen-foot indent in the ground. “I believe we may be out of viable options. Very well, since everything seems to be wrapped up here, we’ll take this kid back and keep him under sedation until the drug wears off. We have to make sure he doesn’t cause another blizzard in summer.”

“No need.” Scott grinned, giving the ok sign. “I already took care of that. My zombie bacteria ate away at the memories of magic in his brain, he don’t know incantations from abracadabras now.” Crenshaw blinked.

“Your-your what?” he asked, white as a sheet.

“Oh yeah, the kid has bacteria cultures that he kills and reanimates under his control. Apparently, he likes to keep biological agents in his pocket.” Cross sniffed disapprovingly. As a cop, as someone entrusted to keep the citizenry safe, she found it abhorrent that anyone carry around such deadly weapons, no matter how responsible or justified. The necromancer shrugged.

“Hey, he was the one who only brought giant size and ice to a-achoo!-germ warfare fight.” He protested.

“But it wasn’t a germ warfare fight until you made it one.” Amber pointed out.

“You-” he pointed at her “-be quiet. I saved the school, don’t-yipe!” He squeaked as Amber smiled and poked him in the side, where he was ticklish. He glared at her, red-faced. “You’re gonna get it.”

“Focus!” Cross barked, clapping. She’d had more than enough of this nonsense. “Damn teenagers.” She muttered. Scott coughed.

“R-Right. So Agent,” he addressed Crenshaw, who was now conspicuously much further away from Scott. “I believe I was originally hired on as a consultant. Now I’m not opposed to having additional duties and carrying out missions. I’ll do it, povid3ed you agree to a higher fee.” He said, glancing at a nodding Amber.

“Which is?” Crenshaw asked with a raised eyebrow, slowly edging away.

“Um. TH-Thirty thousand!” he declared, his heart racing.

“Okay. Done. We’ll collect you after school to discuss the logistics of the possible sting and your “camp.” When does the year end?”

“Less than two weeks, June ninth.” Scott said, flashing a thumbs-up. Soon, but not soon enough! Crenshaw nodded.

“Very well. Agent Cross will pick you up. Speaking of which, let’s move. We have to interrogate the boy.”

“Now you’re talking.” Cross grinned, and they left, Crenshaw pointedly not fleeing into the car. Another of the agents, posing as an officer was explaining a cover story to a school official at the entrance. As they drove, Crenshaw shuddered.

“Something wrong?” Cross asked.

“It’s just that kid. How…how can you stand to be near him? At all? I’ve raided several magician’s hideouts, come face-to-face with six of them. All of them seemed…off somehow, but he takes the cake. Zombified germs? He makes my skin crawl.” Crenshaw said, checking the mirror. Cross snorted.

“Not going to lie, he creeps me out too.” As soon as I met him, I wanted to put a bullet in his head. Thought he was crazy, he’d snuck into the morgue and claimed to be a necromancer. Didn’t believe him until he brought the girl out. We worked together to find her killer, and by then I’d gotten a good measure on him. He’s a good kid, deep down…very deep. ‘S just his personality is the problem.” She scowled. He’s got a good brain, but his head isn’t screwed on right.”

“Hmm. Let’s hope it stays screwed on long enough to tackle this problem.” Crenshaw sighed, and they drove on.