Zombiefied!

by C. M. Gray

  Dedication

  For Jasper and Lucas

  *MWAH! MWAH!*

  (Yes, you both just got a kiss

  from Mum in public.)

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Copyright

  1

  ‘Watch out! Behind you!’

  The zombie came out of nowhere. It launched itself at me with blinding speed. I spun around, pulling up my weapon. Moving fast, I aimed the crosshairs at the zombie’s chest and pulled the trigger.

  ‘Gotcha!’ I shouted. Green zombie guts sprayed everywhere.

  ‘Nice one,’ said Sophie. She was standing beside me on the roof of the abandoned building. ‘Oh no! Here comes another wave!’

  The undead creatures vaulted over the edge of the roof. There were dozens of them! Where had they all come from? Three of them sprinted straight toward me. Their zombie eyes glowed bright red. Their mouths hung open, and I could see their razor-sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. Their arms were outstretched, their hands grasping at the air.

  I loaded up and fired a couple of shots at the nearest zombies. Suddenly, everything went red. I’d been hit from behind! I crumpled to the ground.

  Zombie laughter filled the air.

  I flung the controller down onto the sofa, even though I knew my character would respawn. Man! I hated those guys!

  ‘Don’t rage-quit on me now!’ said Sophie. She was battling the horde alone. I knew she’d never survive by herself. Sure enough, it didn’t take long; in less than a minute, the zombies were laughing again. ‘We’ll never get past this level,’ she complained, slumping down beside me.

  ‘Yeah. It’s rigged,’ I said. ‘Let’s watch a movie instead. How about A Zombie Ate My Homework?’ That was my favourite zombie movie. It’s about this kid who finds a baby zombie and looks after it, sort of like a pet. Except the zombie ends up following him to school one day and scaring all the kids.

  ‘Nah,’ said Sophie. ‘We watched it yesterday.’

  ‘Got any better ideas?’ I asked.

  ‘Nope,’ she said.

  Sophie could be annoying sometimes. But I have to put up with her because she’s been my best friend ever since her parents moved to our town two years ago. Some of the kids at school think it’s weird that we’re friends, because she’s a girl. But she can beat all of them at arm wrestling and running, so who cares, right? She’s also taller than all the other girls in our year. She’s even a tiny bit taller than me, although I’m kind of short and skinny for my age. I wear my hair sticking straight up to add a couple of inches.

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Do you wanna watch a different movie?’

  ‘How about American Zombie?’

  I groaned, but she ignored me and slid the DVD into the player. Old-style credits rolled up the screen as the opening music kicked in. A zombie lurched out of a house and across the street. Even though it didn’t look very scary, people screamed and ran away from it.

  ‘I can see a bit of the guy’s real hair sticking out from under the wig,’ said Sophie, squinting at the TV. ‘And is that a zip up the back of his neck?’

  ‘Yup!’ I said. I was kind of getting into it. The thing is, I love zombie movies. Especially old zombie movies. I love new zombie movies too, although sometimes they actually are scary, unlike the ones that were made ages ago.

  The zombie limped slowly after people, who hid behind cars and ran into houses. I didn’t know why they bothered running; it’s not like the old-style zombie could move very fast.

  I yawned.

  Sophie lives only a couple of blocks from me so we ride home from school together every day. Usually, we hang out at my place; I hardly ever go to her house, because Sophie’s mum works all the time and Sophie’s dad is a writer so he always wants us to be quiet. We’re supposed to do our homework, but most of the time we do other stuff, like read comics. Reading is part of our homework anyway, so I’m only half-lying when I tell Mum we are doing our homework.

  The zombie reached the end of the street. It looked around, then started slowly up a path toward a house. Of course it was the house where the kid who ends up killing all the zombies lived.

  ‘Don’t choose that house, zombie,’ I said to the screen, even though I knew the zombie couldn’t hear me. ‘Choose another one. There’s an old lady living next door. Go and eat her brains.’

  ‘Nom, nom, nom,’ said Sophie. That was our zombie-eating-brains noise. Sometimes we say it when we’re eating ice cream or chocolate or something delicious.

  Thinking about that made me hungry.

  ‘Mum, I’m hungry!’ I yelled.

  ‘There are biscuits in the jar,’ Mum shouted back from the other end of the house.

  ‘Why do I have to do everything around here?’ I groaned. That’s the problem with having parents — they’re always trying to make us do things for ourselves.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ said Sophie, rolling off the sofa.

  I settled back and relaxed. The zombie was lumbering through the kid’s house. The little kid was alone, hiding in a cupboard in his room. Didn’t he know he should make a run for it before the zombie got too close? I mean, it’s completely obvious that a zombie can’t catch you if you’re running away. But if you get cornered, you’re a sitting duck!

  ‘Here,’ said Sophie, tossing me a couple of biscuits.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  The zombie was in the boy’s room now. It was heading toward the cupboard. It lurched forward to open the door.

  Suddenly, something shot past my face and landed on Sophie’s back just as she bit into her biscuit. ‘Nom, nom, n— AAAAGGGHHHH!’

  2

  Sophie screamed and leapt to her feet. She danced around, trying to pull the thing off her dress. ‘Michael!’ I shouted. Sure enough, my big brother leapt out from behind the sofa, laughing his head off.

  ‘Gotcha!’ he shouted, pointing at Sophie before disappearing down the hall, probably to cause trouble somewhere else. He was so annoying!

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said, pulling the fluffy round ball from Sophie’s back. ‘It’s just a Fuzzil.’ Fuzzils were the latest craze at school. People loved throwing them at each other because they stuck to your clothes and hair. They also came with removable features so you could customise them.

  ‘I thought they were supposed to bring good luck,’ said Sophie, staring at the toy in my hand. I’d heard that too, though I’d never seen anything lucky happen when a teacher busted you pegging a Fuzzil at someone.

  She snatched it and stuffed it into her backpack. ‘Well, it’s just given Michael some bad luck — I’m keeping it.’

  We settled down again to watch the rest of the movie, but I couldn’t help checking behind us every few minutes to make sure Michael wasn’t coming back. It would be just like him to creep up and leap out again, right when a zombie was going to attack someone. Even though I was eleven and he was thirteen, he acted younger than me. Sophie didn’t know how lucky she was to be an only child!

  In the movie, the zombie had finally found the boy hiding in the cupboard. The kid managed to escape by doing a roly-poly between the zombie’s legs, then bolting out of the room. He hid again, under the dining table this time. Now the zombie was sniffing around the kitchen, getting
closer and closer. The kid was shivering with fear . . .

  ‘BENJAMIN ROY!’ screeched a voice just behind me.

  ‘What?!’ I screamed.

  I didn’t mean to scream. But because I was expecting Michael to give me a fright, I got a fright.

  It was only Mum this time, though. She was standing behind me, glaring at the TV. ‘I thought you two were doing your homework.’

  ‘Um . . . we are?’ I said, which didn’t sound very convincing. ‘We’re doing . . . research for an assignment.’

  ‘Well it looks like you’re watching a zombie movie to me,’ said Mum. ‘I don’t want your grades to get any worse.’

  That was totally unfair because it’s not like I get bad grades. I mean, on my last report card I actually got a B!

  I didn’t say that though. ‘Sorry, Mum,’ I said. ‘We were just about to start.’

  ‘It’s too late now.’ She sighed. ‘It’s getting dark.’

  We all knew what that meant: it was time for Sophie to go home.

  ‘See you later,’ said Sophie, picking up her bag. ‘Thanks for having me, Mrs Roy.’

  ‘See you tomorrow, Sophie,’ said Mum. She was already dishing up sausages and mashed potatoes at the dining table. ‘Michael! Jeff!’ she shouted. Jeff is my dad. He works as a mechanic fixing trucks for a transport company.

  I said goodbye to Sophie and we all sat down at the table. I started gobbling my food as fast as I could, so I could watch the end of the zombie movie before I went to bed.

  ‘You’re not watching the rest of that movie,’ said Mum, as though she was reading my mind.

  ‘But . . .’ I tried not to whine but I was really disappointed. ‘It’s just coming up to a good part.’

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I want you to do some homework first and then have a shower.’

  ‘But I’m clean! Look!’ I showed her my arm, which turned out to have a bit of dirt on it. I quickly showed her my other one instead.

  ‘You need a shower, Ben,’ said Dad. Like he could talk — he didn’t look too clean himself! He always came home covered in grease and oil.

  ‘Ben-ja-min Roy: stin-ky boy!’ Michael sang, bobbing his head around as though he was dancing to music.

  ‘Michael,’ said Mum sharply.

  Michael tried to look innocent, but nobody fell for it.

  By the time I’d eaten dinner and had a shower and done some homework, it was time for bed. I climbed under the covers. I was still annoyed at Michael. All the kids in my class thought he was so awesome, but they didn’t know what a pain he was!

  Mum stuck her head in the door. ‘Night, Ben,’ she said, as she turned out the light and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Night,’ I said, already feeling sleepy.

  I must’ve dropped right off, because the next thing I knew, something woke me up.

  3

  The room was dark and silent, but something wasn’t right. The curtains were moving a little and the door was now wide open.

  I started to sit up and then I saw it: something on my pillow, about an inch from my nose.

  It was a zombie!

  I sat bolt upright. The zombie head rolled off my pillow and fell on the floor. I jumped out of bed and turned on the light. The head was staring up at me from the carpet. Its mouth gaped open and its eyes were looking in different directions. There was even something that looked like blood dribbling down its chin.

  A zombie Fuzzil!

  Michael strikes again, I thought, as I picked up the Fuzzil and flung it across the room. One day I would get my big brother back. One day I’d be stronger and faster than him. Then he’d be sorry!

  I climbed back into bed and nodded off, dreaming of revenge.

  It seemed like only a few seconds later that Mum was pulling open the curtains and saying ‘Rise and shine!’ in that annoying sing-song voice she used every morning.

  I groaned and hid my face under the pillow. ‘Just one more minute!’

  I must’ve nodded off again and she must’ve got distracted, because by the time she realised I still wasn’t up, it was almost time to leave for school.

  ‘BENJAMIN ROY!’ she shouted just beside my head. ‘YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE!’

  That got me up! Parents could be so impatient!

  Still feeling sleepy, I climbed out of bed and dragged on my clothes.

  Michael was already gone. He always walked to school instead of riding his bike, because he didn’t want the wind to mess up his hair. As if that would happen! He wore so much gel, a hurricane wouldn’t budge it!

  I went to the kitchen to get my lunchbox. There wasn’t any time for breakfast.

  ‘Can I have a coffee?’ This was a question I asked Mum every morning. Not that I actually wanted a coffee. The truth was, I’d had a taste of it once at Sophie’s house and we’d both thought it was disgusting. But Michael had been allowed to start drinking it a couple of months ago, so why shouldn’t I?

  ‘Will it help you ride your bike more safely?’

  ‘No,’ I guessed. ‘But it might help me go faster!’

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of!’ She handed me a glass of milk which I gulped down.

  ‘Bye, Mum!’

  ‘Wait a minute!’ Mum raced out the door after me. ‘I got you a new beanie.’ It was made of green material and lined with this soft fluffy stuff that looked pretty cosy. ‘It’s a bit more grown-up than the last one. Put it on. It’s cold today.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, yanking the new beanie over my ears. The last one had been a real joke. It was pale blue with a picture of a kitten on it. On the back were the words: Have a purrfect day!

  I know. How embarrassing, right? That’s why I only wore it when it was absolutely freezing. ‘Thanks,’ I said again because, believe me, I was grateful.

  I wheeled my bike out of the shed and took off down the street. Even though it was cold, the sun was out. It was a perfect day for the beach or skating at the park — anything other than school!

  I turned into Sophie’s street — her house happened to be on the way to school anyway, so we usually rode there together. Her house looked a bit different from most in our neighbourhood. The grass was creeping out over the kerb. The fences were leaning over. But the thing that really made it stand out was the old broken-down bus parked on one side of the front yard. It had been there since they’d arrived at Seabrook two years ago. Now the tyres were flat and rust had appeared along the sides. Sophie’s dad spent most of his time inside the bus, probably writing, though no one knew for sure. The windows of the bus were covered so we couldn’t get a peek inside. Once, when we knew Sophie’s dad was asleep, we tried to sneak in, but the door was locked.

  Even from the end of the road, I could see that there was no car in Sophie’s driveway, which meant that her mum had already gone to work. Sophie’s mum worked at the nursing home. It was her job to play with the oldies. She would watch movies or do jigsaw puzzles with them — which didn’t really sound like work to me.

  I skidded up the driveway and jumped off my bike. There were three steps up to Sophie’s front door, and every day I tried to leap up to the top step with my feet together. This is way harder than it sounds, especially if you keep your knees together too. I paused at the bottom of the stairs and bent my knees.

  But just as I was about to jump, a hand went over my mouth.

  4

  My lips were clamped shut and I couldn’t make a sound. Then an arm, which felt like it belonged to someone much bigger and stronger than me, went around my neck and I was dragged backward, my heels scraping along in the dirt, toward the old bus. I tried to wriggle out from underneath the arm, but my legs were sort of running the wrong way and I could hardly breathe.

  My beanie fell off and landed in the mud.

  The person dragging me stopped.

  ‘Ben?’

  I was released so suddenly that I almost collapsed. Sagging forward, I coughed a few times, clutching my throat.

  ‘Are yo
u alright, kid?’

  Sophie’s dad, Mr Knight, came into view. One of his meaty hands was still on my shoulder, although now he was holding me up. As usual, he was wearing one of his embarrassing aprons.

  ‘What . . .? Why . . .?’ I stammered.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I thought you were someone else. What happened to the other hat you sometimes wear?’

  ‘The other hat?’ I said.

  ‘You know, the blue hat. The one that says “Have a nice day” on the back.’

  ‘“Have a purrfect day”,’ I said, which was pretty dumb because it really didn’t matter what the hat said.

  ‘That’s it!’ cried Mr Knight, squeezing my shoulder and staring into my eyes as though he was worried I might be concussed. Which, judging from what I’d said, was probably exactly how I sounded.

  ‘Who did you think I was?’ I asked, trying to sound normal although I was still breathing like Darth Vader.

  ‘Um . . . just a bad guy. Someone I don’t want around here, that’s all.’

  ‘He must be really bad if you wanted to strangle him,’ I said. I wasn’t scared anymore — just annoyed.

  Mr Knight dropped his hand from my shoulder. He looked awkward. ‘Yeah, sorry about that.’

  ‘Sorry about what, Dad?’ Sophie had appeared at the front door, Michael’s Fuzzil stuck on top of her shoulder. She stared at us. ‘What happened?’

  Mr Knight didn’t answer her. He just kept looking at me in a strange sort of way. I kept rubbing my throat, even though it was pretty much fine. As far as headlocks went, Michael’s were way worse.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said to Sophie. ‘I just tripped trying to jump up the steps.’

  ‘I knew that would happen one day!’ said Sophie. ‘Just a tic, I’ll go grab my bag.’

  She reappeared a few seconds later. ‘See you, Dad!’ she yelled, jumping on her bike, which was leaning against the side of the house. She never locked it up because she always said that anyone desperate enough to steal it could keep it. So far, nobody ever had. She sailed past us onto the street.