horrible aim, Zack.”
“Who came up with this ginkgo theory of yours anyway?”
“I did,” Rice said proudly.
I knew it, Zack thought, shaking his head while lugging the charcoal.
“Okay, so…who made you the zombie science expert?” asked Madison.
“I had a hunch,” Rice explained. “You know the feeling when genius strikes, and you just know something?”
Madison furrowed her eyebrows and blinked three times in a row. “Does anybody have a better idea?” Blink. Blink. Blink.
“I do!” Zack shouted, dropping the bag on the floor, “You guys bring over the rest of the charcoal and pass me the bags through the window.”
“What for?” Rice asked.
“Just do it!” Zack ordered, and crawled onto the awning.
Obediently, Rice and Madison carried over the remaining two bags to Zack.
He edged cautiously around the border of the canopy and poured out the wet black charcoal, forming a boundary around the snarling horde underneath the awning.
Zack looked out at the Volvo parked well past the zombie danger zone.
“Now bring me the matches. But come out real slow, I don’t know how long this thing’s gonna hold us.”
Madison climbed out first. Rice followed with his ginkgo-filled survival pack strapped to his back. Madison handed Zack the box of matches.
He sparked a match and dropped it gently off the side. The tiny flame disappeared as the match head sputtered onto the charcoal border. A zombie hand tore a hole up through the awning. Its slimy finger grazed Madison’s ankle.
“We’re all going to die!” she shouted.
Just then a fearsome blaze shot up around the wailing zombies, barricading them underneath the awning. Tall flames spewed up from the hedge of fire, scorching the canopy.
All three of them peered over the smoking edge.
“One…” Rice counted.
“Two…” Madison said next.
The canvas started to rip under their feet. The under-side of the blue fabric sizzled open with brown burn holes,revealing the shrieking monsters beneath them.
“Three!” Zack yelled, and they jumped as far away from the fiery awning as their legs could thrust them—which wasn’t very far.
They hit the ground running and raced for the parking lot.
Two blazing ghouls staggered through the flames and onto the walkway. Rice tripped on a long yellow speed bump and fell flat on his stomach. He squirmed desperately under the weight of his backpack, like a fish flopping on the beach.
“Help!” Rice cried. Madison skidded to a halt.
The scorched zombies lurched over Rice’s wriggling figure. Their melting skin dripped on the asphalt like hot wax.
Madison broke into a sprint.
CHAPTER 11
S he hoisted Rice to his feet by his shoulder strap, just in time, and they took off running.
“You just saved my life, Madison,” Rice huffed.
“I know. I should have my head examined.”
Safely inside the car now, Madison sped out of the parking lot in a burst of hysterical rubber. Zack stuck his head out the window and sighed. He sniffed the night air, still ripe with the musky tang of meat gone bad.
“Zack, put up the window, man.” Rice coughed. “You shouldn’t be breathing that stuff.”
“We’ve been breathing the air all night and nothing’s happened, Rice,” Zack said, slumping back downin his seat. “Stop being so paranoid.”
“Please roll up the window, Zack. That smell is awful,” Madison said calmly, focused behind the wheel.
Zack buzzed up the window, and Madison nodded thank-you. Rice rolled his eyes, and Zack flicked on the radio.
A long, high-pitched beep pierced their eardrums. Zack clasped both sides of his head. The beeping stopped, and an electronic voice recording came over the speakers, half human, half machine: “This is not a test. Repeat. This is not a test. The Emergency Alert System has been activated by the president to inform all United States citizens of the grave national crisis unfolding. All survivors in the Phoenix area should proceed directly southbound to
“Who came up with this ginkgo theory of yours anyway?”
“I did,” Rice said proudly.
I knew it, Zack thought, shaking his head while lugging the charcoal.
“Okay, so…who made you the zombie science expert?” asked Madison.
“I had a hunch,” Rice explained. “You know the feeling when genius strikes, and you just know something?”
Madison furrowed her eyebrows and blinked three times in a row. “Does anybody have a better idea?” Blink. Blink. Blink.
“I do!” Zack shouted, dropping the bag on the floor, “You guys bring over the rest of the charcoal and pass me the bags through the window.”
“What for?” Rice asked.
“Just do it!” Zack ordered, and crawled onto the awning.
Obediently, Rice and Madison carried over the remaining two bags to Zack.
He edged cautiously around the border of the canopy and poured out the wet black charcoal, forming a boundary around the snarling horde underneath the awning.
Zack looked out at the Volvo parked well past the zombie danger zone.
“Now bring me the matches. But come out real slow, I don’t know how long this thing’s gonna hold us.”
Madison climbed out first. Rice followed with his ginkgo-filled survival pack strapped to his back. Madison handed Zack the box of matches.
He sparked a match and dropped it gently off the side. The tiny flame disappeared as the match head sputtered onto the charcoal border. A zombie hand tore a hole up through the awning. Its slimy finger grazed Madison’s ankle.
“We’re all going to die!” she shouted.
Just then a fearsome blaze shot up around the wailing zombies, barricading them underneath the awning. Tall flames spewed up from the hedge of fire, scorching the canopy.
All three of them peered over the smoking edge.
“One…” Rice counted.
“Two…” Madison said next.
The canvas started to rip under their feet. The under-side of the blue fabric sizzled open with brown burn holes,revealing the shrieking monsters beneath them.
“Three!” Zack yelled, and they jumped as far away from the fiery awning as their legs could thrust them—which wasn’t very far.
They hit the ground running and raced for the parking lot.
Two blazing ghouls staggered through the flames and onto the walkway. Rice tripped on a long yellow speed bump and fell flat on his stomach. He squirmed desperately under the weight of his backpack, like a fish flopping on the beach.
“Help!” Rice cried. Madison skidded to a halt.
The scorched zombies lurched over Rice’s wriggling figure. Their melting skin dripped on the asphalt like hot wax.
Madison broke into a sprint.
CHAPTER 11
S he hoisted Rice to his feet by his shoulder strap, just in time, and they took off running.
“You just saved my life, Madison,” Rice huffed.
“I know. I should have my head examined.”
Safely inside the car now, Madison sped out of the parking lot in a burst of hysterical rubber. Zack stuck his head out the window and sighed. He sniffed the night air, still ripe with the musky tang of meat gone bad.
“Zack, put up the window, man.” Rice coughed. “You shouldn’t be breathing that stuff.”
“We’ve been breathing the air all night and nothing’s happened, Rice,” Zack said, slumping back downin his seat. “Stop being so paranoid.”
“Please roll up the window, Zack. That smell is awful,” Madison said calmly, focused behind the wheel.
Zack buzzed up the window, and Madison nodded thank-you. Rice rolled his eyes, and Zack flicked on the radio.
A long, high-pitched beep pierced their eardrums. Zack clasped both sides of his head. The beeping stopped, and an electronic voice recording came over the speakers, half human, half machine: “This is not a test. Repeat. This is not a test. The Emergency Alert System has been activated by the president to inform all United States citizens of the grave national crisis unfolding. All survivors in the Phoenix area should proceed directly southbound to
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