Zombie Halloween

by R. L. Stine

  Alec and I stood in silence for a long moment. I kept repeating in my mind what Trevor had said. And I kept seeing those dark eyes, that threatening expression.

  “Weird dude,” Alec said. “He gives me the creeps. Seriously.”

  “I thought I saw him climb out of a grave,” I said.

  “But he wasn’t muddy or anything,” Alec replied.

  “But why wouldn’t he tell us what he was doing out here?” I said. “I don’t believe he was just taking a walk.”

  “I keep thinking about the three coffins in his house,” Alec said. “One for each member of the family.”

  “Wish we could check those coffins out,” I said.

  Alec gazed around. “Where is everyone else? What happened to the other guys? I’m worried about them. Seriously.”

  “This is too scary. Let’s go home,” I said.

  We started down the path. Blown by the swirling wind, the grass swayed one way, then the other. The trees shivered and creaked. I felt as if the whole graveyard had suddenly come to life.

  And then I saw another figure come crashing out from behind a gravestone. Something big and dark. Roaring toward us on all fours.

  Its red eyes glowed in the blackness. And a menacing growl exploded from its throat.

  I froze in terror. The flashlight fell from my hand.

  I glimpsed it clearly just before it attacked. Just before it leaped on me, eyes glowing, gnashing its teeth.

  Just before it knocked me onto my back and lowered its head to devour me.

  “Down!” Alec screamed. “Down, boy!”

  Alec dove forward and tried to pull the huge, snarling dog off me.

  The big creature had me pinned to the ground. It slobbered hot drool down on my face as it snapped its teeth at me.

  “Down! Get off!” Alec screamed over the growls and panting breaths of the enormous black dog. He grabbed it around the middle and tugged it off me.

  With a furious snarl, the dog turned on Alec.

  Alec tried to back away — but he stumbled over a low gravestone.

  He scrambled to his feet as the dog arched its back, preparing to leap.

  Still shaking, wiping the thick, warm dog drool off my cheeks, I had a desperate idea. I reached into my jeans pockets with a trembling hand.

  I wrapped my fingers around the pack and pulled out my Zombie Goop Loops. “Here!” I cried at the top of my lungs. “Here! Hungry?”

  I held out the package. Waved it in front of the growling dog’s snout.

  Then I tossed it to the ground in front of the creature. The Goop Loops spilled out onto the grass.

  Would the dog go for them? Would it decide to eat them instead of Alec and me?

  I didn’t wait to find out. “Let’s go!” I cried.

  I pulled Alec to his feet, and we both took off running down the sloping grass toward the front gate.

  I glanced back as I ran. Yes. The dog had its face lowered to the ground. It was chomping away, slurping up the zombie candy loops.

  A brilliant victory for Kenny Manzetti!

  Alec and I ran faster than we’d ever run. Our shoes pounded the wet ground like drumbeats. We raced through the cemetery gate and across the street. We almost ran right into two teenage girls riding slowly side-by-side down the sidewalk on bikes.

  “Hey — what’s your problem?” one of them shouted at us.

  “Zombies!” Alec shouted back.

  I don’t know why he said that. I guess it was the first thing that popped into his mind.

  We darted into my house and carefully closed the front door behind us. We were halfway up the stairs to my room when Dad stepped into the hallway behind us.

  “Hey, guys,” he called. “What’s up?”

  I was still struggling to slow my heartbeat, still trying to catch my breath. “Uh … Alec came over to help me with my science notebook,” I said, hoping I sounded normal.

  “No zombie video games tonight?” Dad asked.

  “No. It’s a school night,” Alec answered.

  I felt bad lying to Dad. But I didn’t want my parents to know about the zombie patrol. Alec and I piled into my room and shut the door behind us.

  We had survived the dog attack, thanks to Zombie Goop Loops. But Alec had a long scratch on one arm, and the pocket was ripped on his new down jacket.

  Alec tossed his jacket onto the floor in front of my bed. “It’s just a scratch,” he said. “What about our four friends? Shouldn’t we call 911 and report them missing?”

  “Maybe we should call their parents,” I said. “Or … maybe we should tell my parents. This is too serious to keep quiet about. I mean, those four guys just vanished. One minute they were behind us in the graveyard. The next minute …”

  My voice trailed off. I felt sick thinking about it. Four guys disappeared into thin air. And it was all our fault. I thought I might toss my dinner.

  “Maybe you should tell your parents,” Alec said softly. He shook his head. “I … hope the guys are okay. I just have this bad feeling …”

  The doorbell sound chimed on my phone. A text message.

  I pulled the phone from my jeans. I raised the screen to my eyes.

  I read it quickly.

  “Oh, nooo!” I cried. “I don’t believe it!”

  Gripping my phone tightly, I read the text message again. Then I turned to Alec. “It’s from Munroe,” I said.

  “Read it to me,” Alec replied.

  “That was 2 scary. We all went home. How about we start a Star Wars club instead?”

  Alec blinked. Then he burst out laughing. “Do you believe those big chickens?”

  “At least they’re okay,” I said. “But I can’t believe they just ran away. I thought they wanted to be on TV.”

  “You and I will be the zombie patrol,” Alec said. “We don’t need them.” He picked up his jacket and started to pull it on. “When do you want to go out again? Tomorrow night?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “Mom and Dad —”

  “Maybe this weekend,” Alec said. “Maybe we’ll have better luck.”

  Alec left, and I got changed for bed. But I couldn’t get to sleep. I was still wired from my mad run to escape the angry dog. I couldn’t get my heartbeats to slow down to normal. My body felt cold and tingly all over.

  I shut my eyes, and everything that happened tonight kept rolling past me, repeating and repeating like a video on a loop. I kept seeing the graves under the moonlight, poking up from the muddy ground.

  And I saw Trevor stepping out from behind a gravestone…. Trevor, so strange and unfriendly. What was he doing there, walking by himself in the cemetery at night?

  I knew what Alec and I were doing. We had a reason to be there. But why was Trevor there? We asked him, but he wouldn’t tell us.

  And did he threaten us? Did he threaten us when he said how dangerous hunting zombies could be? Was that some kind of hint?

  The red-eyed dog ran past my shut eyes. Again, I heard its furious snarls and felt the hot slobber from its gnashing mouth splash my face.

  I was still wide awake when I heard the ugly moans from outside my open bedroom window. I sat straight up and listened. The curtains were blowing softly in a steady breeze.

  And over the sound of the wind I heard another long, low moan. Like a person in pain. I climbed out of bed and crossed to the window.

  Another moan, followed by shrill cries.

  I pushed the curtains away and peered out.

  The frightening sounds were definitely coming from Trevor’s house next door. I stuck my head farther out the window. The lights in his house were all off.

  But again, I heard an eerie moan: “Owooooooooooh.”

  I swallowed hard. The cold night air made me tremble.

  I have to see what’s happening over there, I decided.

  I picked up the jeans I’d tossed on the floor and pulled them over my pajama pants. Then I found a pair of flip-flops by my closet.

  I made my
way down the hall without making a sound. Grandpa Mo had his door closed. But I was surprised to see that his light was still on. I guessed he couldn’t sleep, either.

  I went down the stairs on tiptoe so the steps wouldn’t creak and wake Tricia or my parents. I pulled open the front door and stepped outside. The half-moon was smaller now and high in the sky. The wind was swirling the dead leaves in the front yard.

  Hugging myself against the cold, I crossed the front yard and crept up to Trevor’s house. I stopped when I heard another eerie cry, louder now. Coming from inside the house.

  My legs didn’t want to move. My heart thudded in my chest.

  I forced myself to sneak up to the front window. I bent low so I wouldn’t be seen. Pale gray light poured out from the living room.

  I took a deep breath, raised myself — and peered into the house.

  It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light inside the room. When I could finally focus, I saw Trevor sprawled on a couch. His head was propped up on two pillows.

  The gray light was pouring from the TV. Trevor was wide awake, staring at the screen.

  I turned and saw what he was watching. The Walking Zombies.

  A long, low moan came from the TV as the zombies swarmed around a group of helpless victims. I’d already seen this episode. It was a good one. Trevor seemed to enjoy it, too. I saw him laugh out loud when the zombies attacked and began to feed on the people.

  He shifted on the couch, and I ducked below the window ledge. I waited a few seconds to make sure he hadn’t spotted me. Then, staying bent over, I ran back to my house with the moans and cries from the TV show following me.

  Back in my room, I couldn’t stop shivering. I dove under the covers to try to warm up. I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to calm down.

  Now I was totally confused about Trevor. It was totally normal to watch The Walking Zombies. That didn’t prove anything about him.

  But he laughed so hard when the living people were being eaten. What did that mean? That he had a twisted sense of humor? Or just that he liked to watch zombies?

  So did Alec and I.

  I didn’t know what to think. I knew I’d be awake all night.

  A short while later, I heard a door slam. I heard low voices outside.

  Again, I jumped up and rushed to my bedroom window. Trevor’s porch light had been turned on. In its glow, I saw Trevor and his parents walking down their driveway.

  Where were they going this time of night?

  The three of them walked quickly. I couldn’t see their faces. Trevor’s parents were tall and thin. Their heads were covered by their coat hoods.

  They turned left on the street and disappeared down the block.

  “Weird,” I muttered. “All three of them going out for a midnight walk?”

  Then I realized this was my chance. My chance to sneak into their house and uncover the mystery of the three coffins.

  What was I looking for? I wasn’t sure. But I hoped I’d find some kind of clue.

  I thought of calling Alec. But I knew he’d be sound asleep. No way his parents would let him leave the house.

  I pulled on the jeans and the flip-flops again. Should I wake Tricia?

  No. She’d only tell me I’m an idiot and I should go back to sleep.

  Okay. Okay. Trevor and his parents were gone. It would be easy — and quick — to see what was in those coffins.

  I had to know. I had to know if three zombies were living right next door to me.

  Poor Grandpa Mo was so frightened. It would be good for him to know the truth, too.

  Once again, I crept outside.

  The swirling winds had stopped. All was still. And silent.

  This time, I crept across the driveway and ran over the wet grass, my flip-flops slipping and sliding. I made it to the back of their house.

  I could see a dim light in the kitchen window. A screened-in porch ran along the back of the house. I tried the porch door, and it opened easily.

  I’m not really breaking in, I told myself. I’m just going to take a look around and run right out. I won’t touch a thing — except for the coffins.

  The kitchen door wasn’t locked. I pushed it open silently and crept inside.

  The kitchen smelled nice. Some kind of spices were in the air. I glanced around quickly. It looked like a normal kitchen.

  I could feel the blood pulsing at my temples. Am I really doing this? Am I really poking around in my neighbors’ house after midnight?

  I had to know the truth about this family. I darted into the hall and peeked into the living room.

  The TV was still on. I recognized an Indiana Jones movie with Harrison Ford. I glanced at the couch where Trevor had been watching the zombie show. The furniture was all big and heavy. Dark wood and big pillows everywhere. Very old-fashioned looking.

  No sign of the coffins.

  I turned and walked down the long back hall. It’s a good thing the hall lights were on. I would have tripped over the big paintings on the floor, tilted against the wall.

  The family had just moved in. I guessed they hadn’t time to hang the paintings yet. I glanced at them as I passed. They were all portraits of stern-looking old people, all dressed in black. No one smiled.

  The bedroom doors were open. I stuck my head in each one. The rooms were all filled with heavy, dark, old-fashioned furniture. One bedroom had stacks of unopened moving cartons up to the ceiling.

  I stopped at Trevor’s room. I saw a bed with a dark bedspread, a dresser, and a small desk. No posters or anything on the walls. A low bookshelf under the window was completely empty.

  I guessed Trevor hadn’t had time to unpack his stuff, either.

  Still no coffins.

  Where were they? Where?

  This was taking longer than I planned. I realized I was breathing loudly. My legs felt rubbery. I had to force them to keep moving.

  The house was all one floor. No upstairs. But was there a basement?

  Yes. The basement door was open at the end of the long hall. I peered down the steps. Pitch-black down there — and I didn’t think to bring a flashlight.

  Should I risk it? Should I turn on the basement light?

  It was the only part of the house I hadn’t seen. The only place where the three coffins could be hidden.

  My hand fumbled at the switch on the wall. It took three tries, but I clicked the light on.

  The stairs were steep and creaked as I made my way down. The air grew cooler and damp. The only sounds were my wheezing breaths.

  At the bottom of the steps, I glanced around. The basement was long and narrow. I saw that it was completely carpeted in a dark red carpet.

  Moving cartons were stacked along the back wall. I saw several big chairs, a couch, a pile of large, colorful pillows. And in the center of the long room …

  In the center of the room, lined up side by side … I saw the three coffins. The dark wood gleamed under the ceiling lights. The coffins were shut. Their curved lids were smooth and shiny.

  I’d found them. I couldn’t breathe. I had to force the air in and out.

  Did I really have the courage to open one?

  Don’t think about it, Kenny. Just do it.

  One voice in my head told me to grab a coffin lid and push it open.

  Another voice in my head said I should run.

  But it was too late to run. I was here, and the coffins sat right in front of me.

  I stepped up to the closest coffin. It had a sweet wood smell, like it had just been polished. I walked around to the front. I lowered my hands to the lid.

  I tightened them and started to push the lid open. But I stopped when I heard a scraping sound. Then a cough.

  I turned to the stairs — and saw Trevor staring at me from the bottom step.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  My heart skipped a beat. I felt my knees start to buckle. A wave of dizziness swept over me. I thought I was about to faint.
<
br />   I tried to speak, but no sound came out.

  What could I say? I was caught. Caught by a zombie? Trapped in a zombie’s basement?

  “Kenny, what are you doing here?” Trevor repeated, taking a few steps toward me. His eyes appeared to glow under the ceiling lights. His face was still buried in his hoodie. But I could see the grim, threatening expression on his face.

  “Well … I … I …”

  I stammered and stuttered. I couldn’t think of an excuse.

  Had he returned to climb into his coffin? Returned and found me here?

  Was he angry that I knew his secret?

  What would he do to me?

  I gazed around, searching for an escape route. But he was blocking the way to the stairs.

  His glowing eyes locked on mine. I felt he was trying to see into my brain.

  He tossed the hood back as he stared at me. Then he said, “Oh. I get it. I get it now.”

  “Trevor, I … I’m sorry,” I choked out, my whole body shaking.

  “I get it,” he repeated. “You want to know what’s in the coffins.”

  “Well …” I still couldn’t talk. This was the most terrifying, embarrassing moment of my life.

  “That’s it, right?” Trevor demanded. “It’s the coffins. You saw the movers bring them in, and you want to know what’s in them?”

  I managed to nod.

  “Well, go ahead,” Trevor said, motioning to the first coffin. “Go ahead, Kenny. Open them up. Take a look.”

  I stared at him openmouthed. “Uh … Really?”

  He motioned again.

  I took a deep breath. Lowered my hands to the coffin lid. And shoved it open.

  I pushed the heavy coffin lid all the way up and stared down at its contents. I saw piles of shirts and sweaters, neatly folded and stacked.

  Huh?

  “Go ahead,” Trevor said. “Open the next one, Kenny.” He had stepped up beside me. He helped me lower the coffin lid. Then he led the way around to the front of the second coffin.

  “Well? Go ahead,” he urged. “It’s why you came down here — right?”

  I pushed open the lid. I saw stacks of old books in this coffin. The coffin was filled to the top with books.