Zombie Town Read online

  We have to get out of here, I thought. There has to be a way! I glanced up at the blank movie screen. “Let’s go back there, behind the screen,” I suggested. “Maybe there’s another emergency door.”

  Maybe even a telephone, I thought. I was definitely ready to dial 911.

  We hopped onto the dusty stage and pulled back one end of the screen. As we stepped behind it, a disgusting, putrid smell swept over us.

  “Whoa, gross!” Karen exclaimed. “What is that?”

  I clapped my hands over my mouth and nose. “I don’t know,” I mumbled. “Rotten eggs, maybe?”

  “Eeew! I think I’m going to be sick,” Karen groaned. Her face turned green.

  “Hold it until we get outside. Look!” I pointed across the stage to a door with another red EXIT sign above it.

  “Great!” Karen cried. “Let’s get out of here before I puke.”

  We started toward the door. But halfway across the stage, I heard something.

  A shuffling noise, like someone’s feet scraping across the dusty wood floor. Then I heard a soft wheezing sound. In and out. In and out.

  I grabbed Karen’s arm. The shuffling noise came again. “Did you hear that?” I asked.

  “It’s probably the screen moving back and forth.” She tried to tug her arm free.

  “No, wait. There’s something else. Listen!” I whispered.

  Karen gave me an annoyed glance. She started to say something, but I held up my hand to silence her.

  In the silence, I heard the wheezing again. In and out. Getting louder. Louder.

  “Unnh…unnnnh!”

  My skin prickled.

  Karen’s eyes grew wide. “What is that?” she whispered.

  I shook my head.

  “Unnnnh!” The frightening sound came closer. We heard the shuffling again.

  Then a figure slowly emerged from the shadows near the door. The eerie red glow of the exit sign lit up his face.

  “Noooooooo!” Karen moaned.

  My teeth started to chatter. I couldn’t speak.

  A zombie stared at us from across the stage.

  A zombie, with green skin and a haunted, hungry look in his eyes.

  No, not his eyes. His eye! One eye was missing. And as the living corpse turned, I could see that half his face was missing, too. As if someone had ripped off the skin on his right side.

  “Karen!” I gasped. “It’s—it’s—a zombie from the movie!”

  “His mouth! Look at his mouth!” she cried.

  “Huh?”

  “See what’s stuck in his teeth?”

  I forced myself to stare into the zombie’s mouth. Something silver glittered between two rotting teeth.

  A buckle.

  I had seen that buckle before. In the movie. On the backpack the kid had dropped right before the zombies attacked.

  That buckle—was that all that was left of the kid?

  Did the zombie eat the rest of him?

  But that was a movie! I told myself. It wasn’t real! It couldn’t be!

  My knees started to shake again. Chill after chill ran down my back.

  The zombie’s one eye slipped out of its socket and rested on its cheekbone.

  The ugly creature let out a loud moan. Karen and I jumped back, screaming.

  The zombie lifted his head. The eye locked on us. Then the creature raised half-rotted arms and took a lurching step. “Unnnh…unnnnnh!”

  “Karen…Karen…” I whispered. “It’s coming after us!”

  Karen froze beside me.

  I wanted to run. But my legs wouldn’t cooperate.

  The sour smell surrounded us.

  The silver buckle glittered in the zombie’s crooked teeth.

  I yanked on Karen’s arm. “Come on!” I shouted. “Remember what you said? They have to keep eating people to stay alive. You see any other people around here besides us?”

  “I can’t believe this,” Karen murmured. “It’s unreal.”

  The zombie took another shuffling step and moaned again. A low, hungry moan.

  “Is that real enough for you?” I demanded.

  Karen grabbed my hand. Together, we finally got moving. We raced around in front of the screen.

  I glanced back over my shoulder. The zombie was still behind the screen, but I could hear it moaning and shuffling along.

  “No such things as zombies, huh?” I whispered to Karen.

  “I don’t get it!” Karen cried. “I just don’t get it. How could that thing actually get out of a movie?”

  “I don’t know!” I said as we leaped off the stage. “But it’s out. And it’s after us.”

  The zombie moaned again. “At least they don’t move fast,” Karen told me. “We can beat it out of here easy!”

  “Out of here?” I suddenly remembered something. “The doors are locked!”

  Karen stared at me. For the first time, she looked really terrified. “I…I forgot about that!”

  I turned at the sound of another moan. The movie screen rippled and shook. Then, as I gaped in horror, a long slit appeared down the middle. The zombie ripped it wide open!

  As his face peered out, searching the darkness for us, Karen and I both shrieked.

  “We can’t just stand here!” I shouted. “We have to try the door again. Come on!” We started to race up the aisle.

  And stopped, screaming in terror.

  Another zombie waited for us at the top of the aisle.

  A zombie with a dark hole where its nose should have been.

  A third one crawled over the seats on the right, grabbing at the cushions with blackened fingernails.

  “No. No.” Karen gasped.

  “The movie!” I cried. “All three of them escaped from the movie!”

  Karen grabbed my arm. “Count again, Mike,” she whispered.

  I turned to see a fourth zombie with bloodshot eyes crawl across the seats on the left. A human hand dangled from its teeth.

  Loud, hungry moans echoed from behind us. We spun around and gasped.

  The zombie with the missing eye stood at the front of the stage.

  But it wasn’t alone anymore.

  At least ten more zombies had joined it.

  Ten more hungry zombies, I thought, my mind spinning in terror. Zombies who need human flesh to stay alive.

  Our flesh!

  We bolted to the first exit door and rammed our shoulders against it.

  Still locked.

  We flew up the side aisle to the back door.

  It still wouldn’t open.

  “Unnh! Unnnnh!” The zombies jumped down from the stage. They came after us, slithering, groaning, staggering.

  It doesn’t matter how slow they are, I realized. We can’t escape. We can run around in here for hours, but they’ll still catch us.

  I stared in horror at the hand—someone’s hand!—hanging from the zombie’s mouth.

  They’ll catch us, I knew.

  And then they’ll eat us.

  There has to be another way out of here, I thought desperately. As I glanced all around, I suddenly remembered.

  “The balcony!” I shouted. “Come on!”

  I grabbed Karen’s hand and pulled her along until we found the balcony stairs. We stumbled up the steps to the very top.

  Black velvet curtains covered the back wall.

  Just curtains. No door.

  Below us, the zombies moaned and wailed.

  I spun around and peered down. I could see them lumbering toward the balcony stairs. Then they disappeared from sight.

  A couple of seconds passed. Then I heard their footsteps. Heavy. Thudding. Climbing up the steps.

  Karen yanked on my sleeve. “The projection booth!”

  We scurried along the back wall to the little glass-fronted booth. I grabbed hold of the door handle and turned it.

  The handle broke off.

  I heard the zombies climbing. Getting closer. Moaning for food. Human food.

  I rammed my shoulder
against the door. The door rattled and shook, but it didn’t open.

  Karen screamed. I stumbled back and fell to the floor. She screamed again, pointing.

  A zombie stood at the top of the stairs. Its lips hung open. As it grinned at us, I could see the fuzzy black mold that covered its teeth.

  More zombies crowded behind it. They gazed at us hungrily, grunting, sniffing.

  Then they began to stagger toward us.

  “Oh, man, oh, man!” My legs turned to mush. My whole body shook. “There’s no place to go! We’re cornered!”

  “Trapped…” Karen muttered. “We’re trapped…”

  The zombies pressed forward. Lurching stiffly, their hungry eyes locked on us. Their sick, sour smell surrounded us. They groaned and grunted, deep, throaty moans of the living dead.

  Panic choked my throat. My hands were squeezed into tight fists. I glanced down and saw that I still had the door handle in my hand.

  I don’t know where I got the courage. I didn’t even think about it. It just sort of happened.

  As the one with the moldy teeth drew closer, I swung my arm back—and flung the door handle into his face.

  The handle made a sick, squishy sound as it hit. A piece of green skin ripped off.

  “Yaiiii!” The zombie let out a squeal and grabbed his torn cheek.

  The others joined in, howling in anger, their bodies moving excitedly up and down like puppets.

  “What did you do?” Karen shrieked. “You—you made them even angrier!”

  “What difference does it make?” I yelled. “They’re going to get us anyway!”

  The snarling, howling zombies staggered closer.

  Karen and I stepped back. We hit the back wall. Nowhere to run.

  This is it! I thought in horror, as I felt the velvet curtains behind me. This is as far as we can go.

  We pressed ourselves into the thick curtains. I closed my eyes. The zombie smell sickened me. Their horrifying moans rang in my ears.

  I heard a loud click.

  And the wall gave way!

  “Whoaaa!” I cried out as Karen and I fell backwards. We thudded to the floor in a tangle of velvet curtains.

  “A door!” Karen cried, struggling to untangle herself from the curtains. She scrambled to her feet. “Another emergency door!”

  I glanced back through the open door. A zombie stared back at me with one eye. A trail of yellow slime oozed from its other eye socket.

  The other zombies crowded behind it.

  Karen and I took off, racing down the stairs to the lobby.

  Please, let the front doors open! I thought as we stumbled across the slick lobby floor. Please!

  We slammed against the metal bars—and the doors flew open!

  As we burst out onto the sidewalk, Karen slipped in a rain puddle. She landed hard on her hands and knees.

  “Get up! Hurry!” I took hold of her arm and tried to pull her up.

  Karen glanced over her shoulder at the theater.

  “Hurry!” I repeated.

  Karen finally stood up. But she didn’t move. She kept gazing at the theater with a frown on her face.

  “What are you waiting for?” I shrieked.

  “Nothing. I’m thinking,” she told me.

  “Oh, great! Why don’t you think about getting out of here?” I took her arm again and tugged her across the street.

  “I’m not so sure we have to hurry.” Karen pointed to the theater. “Look, Mike. The lobby is still empty.”

  “So what? The zombies are slow, remember?”

  “Not that slow.” Karen stared at the theater. Then at me. Then she burst out laughing.

  “Are you nuts?” I hollered. “What are you laughing about?”

  “The zombies!” she exclaimed. “I figured it out, Mike!”

  “Huh?”

  “I figured it all out,” Karen said.

  “I knew it couldn’t be real,” she declared. “The whole thing was a trick. Some kind of publicity stunt for the movie. The zombies were fakes.”

  “But…but I smelled them!” I stammered. “I’ll never forget that smell. You saw how real they were.”

  “Costumes,” she told me. “Costumes sprayed with a disgusting smell, that’s all.” She pointed across the street to the theater again. “The lobby is still empty, see?”

  I stared through the glass doors. Karen was right.

  “If the zombies were real, they would have been downstairs by now,” Karen declared.

  “But what about the locked doors?” I demanded. “And why were we the only ones in the place? What happened to the ticket-seller and the popcorn guy?”

  “All that was part of the stunt, I guess. It had to be,” Karen insisted. “I mean, everybody knows there’s no such thing as zombies.”

  I kept staring into the lobby. No zombies appeared. Was Karen right?

  “That was so cool.” Karen laughed again. “I was scared out of my mind. They really fooled us, didn’t they?”

  I didn’t know what to believe. The zombies seemed so real! My heart still raced and my hands were still shaking. All I wanted to do was get home, fast.

  I glanced down the street. Good. The bus was only two blocks away. The sooner I got away from here, the better.

  The bus rumbled toward us. It bounced through a pothole and swerved to the side, almost hitting a lamppost.

  “Whoa!” Karen cried. “That thing’s really flying!”

  The tires squealed as the bus swerved back to the middle of the street. I waved my arms, but the driver didn’t slow down. He blasted the horn, then gripped the wheel with both hands and kept speeding toward us.

  The bus zoomed closer. The engine roared. The bus jolted over another pothole and swerved again.

  The headlights swept over us. I gaped in horror.

  “Karen—jump!” I screamed. “It’s going to hit us!”

  I grabbed Karen. Leaped back from the curb. And threw myself against the brick wall of the store behind us.

  The horn blared. Tires squealed. A fountain of water splashed from the gutter as the bus shot past us in a blur.

  We were drenched. I wiped my eyes and stared after the bus as it squealed around a corner. “What’s the matter with that guy?” I sputtered. “He’s nuts!”

  “Maybe the gas pedal got stuck or something.” Karen shook her head, spattering me with water. “I guess we’ll have to walk home instead.”

  “Forget it,” I told her. “I’m wet and cold. Let’s call my mom for a ride.”

  “You’re still worried about the zombies, aren’t you?” Karen teased. “Check out the lobby, Mike. Nobody’s there.”

  “Okay, okay.” She was right, but I didn’t care. “I still don’t want to walk. Come on, let’s find a pay phone.”

  Our sneakers squished as we walked toward a Kwikee-Mart in the middle of the next block. The rain had stopped, but it didn’t matter—both of us were soaked.

  I kept glancing over my shoulder, checking for zombies. Karen laughed every time I did. But I couldn’t help it. The whole stunt had really frightened me.

  If it was a stunt.

  We squished into the Kwikee-Mart and found the pay phone near the front counter. While Karen checked out the magazine rack, I dropped a quarter in and punched my phone number. Then I glanced around the store.

  The place was empty. I craned my neck and stared at the front counter. No one there. Where was the owner?

  I let the phone ring ten times…twenty. I hung up and checked the clock over the counter. Five-thirty. Mom and Dad should both be home. I got my quarter back and tried again.

  Still no answer.

  I tried Karen’s house next. While I listened to the phone ring, I noticed something.

  The cash register drawer stood open. A couple of the little compartments were empty. But a few tens and even some twenties were left.

  I frowned. Why would the owner leave the drawer open? Maybe the place had been robbed, and he ran to the police. But wait a
second. Why didn’t the robber take all the money?

  The phone kept ringing. No answer at Karen’s house, either.

  When I hung up, I heard a whirring sound.

  “Hey, Mike, come here,” Karen called. “Check this out.”

  I crossed to the other side of the store. The whirring grew louder.

  Karen stood in front of the Slushy Machine. Its motor was running, churning out cherry slush. The slush had overflowed the cup underneath. Now it spread across the counter and plopped onto the floor in big red globs.

  I glanced around the empty store again and frowned.

  What was going on?

  Where was everyone? What was happening here? Where had they all gone?

  “Weird, huh?” Karen whispered, watching the cherry slush plop onto the floor.

  “Yeah. That’s not the only thing that’s weird,” I told her. “Check out the cash register. It’s wide open.”

  “Whoa. I don’t believe it!” she said. “This is very creepy.”

  “No kidding. Let’s go,” I told her. “Nobody’s home at my place. Or yours, either. We’ll have to walk.”

  When we left the Kwikee-Mart, I checked up and down the street.

  “Stop looking for zombies. You’re making me nervous,” Karen said. “It had to be a stunt, Mike. Zombies don’t exist—not in real life.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not,” I said. “But I have this prickly feeling on the back of my neck, like something’s crawling on it.”

  Karen shivered. “Are you sure no one answered the phone at my house?” she asked. “Dad’s supposed to be watching a football game. And Mom told me she was going to grade papers all afternoon.”

  “My parents are supposed to be home, too,” I said. I took another quick look behind me. Nothing. “All I know is, I let both phones ring about a hundred times.”

  “Maybe they all changed their minds and decided to go out,” Karen suggested. “It is Saturday.”

  “So how come the sidewalks are empty?” I asked. “Where are all the people?”

  “There’s someone!” Karen pointed behind us. I turned to look.

  A car sped up the street. As it zoomed past, I saw a man and a woman jammed inside with piles of clothes, a rocking chair, and a television set.