The Zombie Chasers (5 page)

“Absolutely,” Rice assured him. “When the zombie busts through, you’re gonna cave that sucker’s skull right in!”

Zack stood still, hammer raised over his head,
waiting. The zombie’s other arm came crashing through, followed by its gruesome head. Zack nearly brought down the hammer, when he saw that this zombie was none other than his sister.

Zoe’s dark, stringy hair was matted with sweat. Blue veins pulsated up through the drooping skin on her face. Her pupils were constricted to thin, black slivers of evil. She hissed and growled, scratching at the air.

“Oh my God!” Madison exclaimed. “Zoe looks really bad as a zombie!”

Zoe managed to squeeze her upper half through the hole in the door, but her legs remained out in the hallway, walking in place as though she were on a zombie treadmill.

Madison pulled out her camera phone and pointed
it at the gargling, zombified beast that her best friend had become. She laughed and clicked, chuckling a little harder with every photo.

“Hey, what’s happening?” Rice said. “You kill it or what?”

“It’s
Zoe
!” Zack told him.

“Dude.” Rice sounded excited now. “This is what you’ve been waiting for your entire life!”

“I can’t actually kill my sister, Rice!” Zack shouted.

“Fine. But if you’re not going to kill her, you have to knock her out. Whack her on the head with something hard, right between the eyes if you can,” Rice explained. “That won’t kill her, though. Eventually she’s going to wake up and try to get you again.”

Madison shrieked then, looking through the splintered hole around Zoe’s waist.

“Zack! They’re coming up the stairs!”

He picked up the phone and took it off speaker. “Rice, I gotta go, man!”

“Zack, wait! After you and Madison escape, get a car, pick me up, and we’ll figure things out from over here,” he said. “Good luck.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Zack told him. “And thanks.”

“Anytime, bro…and, dude, if I don’t see you…” His best friend’s voice took on a somber tone. A full five-second pause. “I love you, buddy.” Rice hung up before Zack could respond. The dial tone buzzed in his ear.

Zack stared off into nothing, realizing for the first time that he might not make it through the night. “I love you, too, man.”

“Do something, Zack!” Madison yelled, sounding truly frantic. The zombie moans were getting closer.

Zack yanked the Swiss Army knife from his pants pocket and pulled out the long blade. Sitting on the bed, he steadied the plastic bat on its end and jammed the metal point into the bottom, vigorously carving out a yellow parallelogram from the base. He picked up his oversize replica Coke bottle, piggy-banked with coins,
and dumped it out in one huge pile next to the bat. Handful after handful, Zack funneled the change into the hollow plastic until it was brimming with ancient pennies caked in a diseased green fungus.

“Darn it!” Zack shouted, “I need tape.”

Madison stuck a hand in her purse and riffled around. She plucked out a roll of duct tape and tossed it across the room.

“Came in handy once already,” she quipped.

Zack taped off the bat’s bottom and coiled more tape up the base for extra grip. He took a practice swing with the money-heavy bat.

Madison stepped back as Zack approached his grotesque sister. Now face-to-face with her kid brother, zombie Zoe strained ever harder, reaching tirelessly with both hands. Zack struck a batter’s stance in front of the door.

“Zoe,” he said, adjusting his grip and planting his feet firmly on the floor, “this is for…well, this is for
everything, I guess.” He wiggled his hips like a major leaguer at home plate.

“Wait!” Madison yelled, stepping in front of Zack. “Just don’t break her nose, okay? She has such a cute little nose.” She backed away, grimacing with anticipation.

Zack took a hard swing at Zoe’s head and connected squarely with the dome of her zombie noggin. The cheap yellow plastic exploded in a sweet tinkling melody of silver and copper coins. Zack dropped the bat, and his monstrous sister slumped down, half in and half out of the room.

Madison patted Zoe’s head as if to say, “good puppy” as she turned the doorknob and opened the door.

The zombie horde had reached the second-floor landing, spilling over one another, grappling mindlessly, clutching at nothing. Zack scooted past his sister and smiled at Madison.

“Was that fun for you or something?” she asked him.

“It was worth every penny,” Zack said.

“You’re such a dork.”

The undead swarm clogged up the hallway, a tangled heap of shifting limbs, closing in slowly, steadily. Zack was nearly out of ideas, but he had one left.

“Madison,” he said, “when Zoe sneaks out at night, how does she do it?”

“Easy. She climbs out her window and goes down the trellis.”

Just then, one of the zombies tripped forward in a lurching half-stumble. Zack and Madison hopped back out of the way. The zombie hit the floor and crunched its face into the rug, which sounded a lot like squashing a beetle with the bottom of your shoe.

Zack grabbed Madison by the arm and hustled her down the hall. She shrugged off his grip, strutting away
from the zombie mob at her own leisurely pace. The soulless groans throbbed through the house, punctuated by high-pitched yaps and tiny paws scratching at the base of Zoe’s bedroom door.

Zack pulled the door handle, and the puppy bolted out past Madison.