The Zombie Chasers (4 page)

M
adison slammed the bedroom door behind them. Zack’s forearms tightened with goose-flesh as a chilly breeze whisked through the open window. The rope ladder hung ominously off the window ledge, its rungs smacking against the side of the house.
Clack. Clack
.
Clack.

Zack looked outside at the horrifying sight below: The neighborhood was alive with the undead. Zombie Samantha and zombie Ryan were ripping out clumps of each other’s hair, and whole chunks of flesh had been chomped right off their necks and shoulders. Mrs. Mansfield, Old Man Stratton, the other Zimmer twin, and all the neighbors were hideously deformed, every
one of them hacking up blood, gutter-logged with zombie goop, flesh bubbles bulging and then bursting. They were everywhere, covering the lawn, the sidewalk, the street, staggering aimlessly, wailing deep subhuman moans.

“Madison, get over here,” Zack called.

“How do you lock this door from the inside?” she asked, jiggling the doorknob.

“You can’t. Just come look at this.” Zack’s eyes were glued to the scene below.

Madison fished out another VitalVegan from her handbag and sidled up next to Zack. She took a casual sip, then looked out at the shambling swarm of bloodthirsty fiends. The zombies tottered randomly in every direction. Their arms were outstretched, disjointed limbs dangling out of their sockets, some slashed to shreds with bloody gashes.

Madison let out a choked yelp, dropping the plastic bottle out the window. It seemed to pause in midair before the plastic clinked noisily off the wooden slats of the ladder.

The zombies turned in unison, craning their necks toward the house.

Madison sucked in air, preparing to let out a full-fledged scream. But Zack cupped his hand over her mouth, and instead, she just sputtered into his palm. He shot her a sideways glance and wiped his hand on the side of his pants.
Gross.

And then she screamed anyway.

The festering mob’s dead milky eyes stared up at Zack and Madison. The zombies limped toward the house, converging in a slow, synchronized attack.

“Great job, Madison,” Zack said sarcastically. “Just what we needed.”

“Whatever, loser—” she started to say, before the phone rang again. Zack grabbed it off the windowsill and answered.

“Let me call you back, Rice,” he said in a hurried whisper.

“Zack, I swear…if you hang up on me, you can find a new best friend,” Rice threatened.

“I’m kind of in the middle of something right now.”

“Yeah, Zack, you and everyone else. Your neighborhood’s infested, man. The news is calling it a hot zone. I thought the zombies got you for sure.”

Back at the window, Madison let out another hair-raising shriek. Zack wheeled around to look at her.

“What the heck was that?” Rice asked.

“Rice, sorry, just hold on a second. I’m not hanging up, just…” Zack’s mouth fell open, his eyes widening as
Madison unhooked the rope ladder from the windowsill and tossed it over the ledge.

“What’d you do that for?” he asked, the phone pressed to his shoulder.

“One of them started to climb up!” she told him.

“Well, how do you expect us to get down now?”

“Did you really expect me to climb down into that…that…
zombieville
?” Madison crossed her arms and shook her head “Uh-uh, no way!”

But before Zack could respond, the cracking hinges of the front door downstairs shot a tremor that rippled up through the wall and rattled the windowpanes.

“Rice, we’re in real trouble, man. What do you know about zombies?”

“Okay, Zack, first and foremost, don’t get killed by the zombies. If you die, I don’t really have any other pals to replace you with. So your primary objective is to stay alive and remain my best friend,” he finished.

“Thanks, Rice, but seriously…” Zack pleaded.

“I
am
serious. So…just be good and don’t die. Now, who else is with you?”

“Just me and Madison.”

“Oh, man, you’re in deep trouble,” Rice said. “Have either of you been bitten? Because if you get bitten, you die and, like, your body is reanimated, but your skin starts to rot and your eyeballs fall out and sometimes you have to pick them up and put them back in your face. Oh, dude, it’s so nasty—”

“Not bitten, Rice,” Zack interrupted. “We just ran upstairs into my bedroom.”

“You have Madison Miller in your bedroom?”

“Rice!”

“Okay, okay, just let me think for a minute.” He paused. “What’s she wearing?”

“Rice, c’mon, man!”

“Well?” Madison pursed her lips, losing patience.

“He’s thinking.” Zack shrugged.

“Give me the phone,” she demanded, grabbing it off his ear. She hit the speaker button and handed it back to Zack.

“Excuse me, who am I speaking with?” Madison asked in a stern voice, pacing back and forth.

“Uh…this is Rice,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“Well, Rice, you better tell us everything you know about these things right now, or I’m gonna turn myself into a zombie, come hunt you down, and rip your guts out, understand?”

“You can’t turn yourself into a zombie,
Madison,
” Rice said in a know-it-all tone. “Only a zombie can turn you into a zombie.”

“Just lose the ’tude and tell us everything.”

“Okay,” Rice began, sounding a little nervous. “The first thing you have to realize about zombies is that they’re just dead people who walk around and try to bite you.”

Zack peered down at the carnage below. Zombies lurched across the lawn, heading toward the house. Some of them trampled through the bushes, smashing through the first-floor windows. The rest converged on the stoop, storming ravenously through the doorway. Black blood oozed out of their diseased bodies, dripping on the grass and the cobblestone walkway. Zack could hear them ransacking the first floor.

“Dude, are you listening? If they bite you, you’ll get infected and become a zombie. This is what the zombies want most. That is, if they don’t devour you entirely. Luckily, though, zombies are pretty slow, so it’s easy to outrun them, but…”

Zack swiveled his head around the room, looking for something with which to defend himself. “Okay, what else, man?

Tell us everything!” He placed the phone down flat on the carpet.

“Now listen up, guys.” Rice was getting serious. “You said you were up stairs in the bedroom? You have to get out of there. If you let the zombies box you into a corner like that, you’re both goners.”

Zack reached under his bed and pulled out a toy gun. Across the room, Madison sat on the swivel chair, looking at her reflection in a compact mirror.

“We’re being attacked by walking corpses who want to eat us, and you’re worried about how you look?”

Madison pursed her lips. “If I’m gonna get killed by these zombie freaks, I’m gonna go out in style.” After applying lipstick, she offered some to Zack. “Wanna touch-up?”

He aimed the gun at Madison and pulled the trigger. It flashed a red laser light, bleeping a futuristic melody. Madison stuck her tongue out.

Suddenly, the unlocked door boomed and rattled. Someone-slash-thing was in the hallway, trying to pound its way into the bedroom. Madison stood up and pressed against the door with both hands, stiff-armed.

“What’s going on over there?” Rice’s voice sounded from the phone on the floor.

“Wuh-huh-huh…Rice, wh-what do I do?” Zack stuttered.

“Okay, pay attention. The only way to kill a zombie is to completely destroy its brain or chop its head off.”

Zack rushed to the closet, rifling through boxes, pulling down coat hangers. Nothing. He scurried deeper past his old
DragonBall Z
cards, kicking them out of Madison’s sight line. There was nothing except the thin yellow Wiffle ball bat propped in the corner.

He backed up on his hands and knees, holding the flimsy plastic club. Madison exploded with laughter.

“What? What’s he doing?” Rice spoke up.

“He’s got one of those plastic baseball bats,” Madison scoffed. “The thing weighs like two ounces.”

“Zack, get a grip,” Rice scolded. “You’re killing zombies, man! This is serious business. You need serious weapons.”

Zack ran to his desk and started opening drawers frantically. He found a Swiss Army knife he never used and shoved it in his pocket. Then he pulled out a hammer he had forgotten to put back in his dad’s toolbox and raced back to Madison.

She was bracing the door as the zombie banged relentlessly on the other side. Madison laughed
abruptly, snorting through her nose.

“What’s so funny?” Zack asked.

“The door’s not even locked. Zombies are really stupid, huh?” Madison giggled, when suddenly the wood splintered with a menacing snap. She flinched.

“I wouldn’t laugh at zombies, Madison,” Rice said. “Try reading the Wikipedia entry and see if you ever sleep again.”

One more thump and the wood gave way completely. The zombie’s gunky onion-yellow hand shot through the door, one inch from Madison’s face, reaching for something, anything, to claw.

Madison screeched, pushing herself out of the zombie’s reach. Zack stood next to her, holding his weapon with both hands.

“All right, Rice, I got a hammer,” he said. “Is that gonna do the trick?”