The Zombie Zone-a to z 26 by Ron Roy, John Steven Gurney Page A

around their faces.
    Jack slung his pack over one shoulder. Then he pointed to a brass plaque. The words OLD FOREST TRAIL had been stamped into the metal.
    “Here’s where the trail starts,” he said. “Watch the ground for tree roots!”
    “Are there any snakes around here?” Josh asked, stepping quickly to stay right behind Jack.
    “Probably,” Jack said. “But we won’t see them. As soon as they feel our footsteps, they’ll take off.”
    They walked single file. Jack was first, with Josh on his heels. Ruth Rose followed Josh, with Dink in the rear. The trail was narrow and it curved around trees. Moss hung in their faces and roots tried to trip them. The buzz of insects was everywhere.
    Dink’s skin felt sweaty. He noticed a few narrower trails leading off to the right and left. He was peering down one of these when suddenly he tripped, landing on his hands and knees.
    “You all right?” Jack said when he turned around.
    When Dink looked up, he saw a small sign nailed to a tree trunk. Someone had painted three words in red:

They stared at the sign. Some of the paint had dripped down, giving the words a creepy look. Dink felt the hair on his arms stand up.
    “Zombie zone?” Josh said, almost in a whisper. “What does that mean?”
    “Beats me,” Jack said. “I’ve never seen this sign before, and I bring hikers out here a lot.”
    Jack moved closer to the sign. “This nail looks new,” he said. “See, it hasn’t had a chance to rust yet.”
    “It looks like they used blood,” Dink said.
    Jack touched a letter. “No, it’s just red paint.”
    “But who put the sign here?” asked Ruth Rose.
    Jack shrugged. “It could be a joke, just something to scare the tourists who hike here,” he said. “I’ve heard rumors that strange things have been happening around the cemetery near the village.”
    Josh gulped. “What kind of strange things?” he asked.
    “Well, some people swear they saw a zombie,” he said. “Zombies are part of the voodoo religion. I don’t know anyone who practices voodoo, but some people still believe in it. Let’s keep walking.”
    As the kids followed Jack, Dink thought about what he had told them about zombies. He felt goose bumps crawl up and down his arms.
    They hiked in silence for another few minutes. The dim trail widened into a sunny clearing. About twenty huts formed a half circle around the edges. Each hut had a porch, a garden, and a fire pit or homemade stove.
    The hut walls were made of logs, branches, and mud. The roofs had been built with sheets of tin, branches, and broad leaves.
    In the center of the clearing sat a larger building. It was at least four times as big as the others. Dink peeked inside the open door and saw a lot of seats. He figured it was some kind of meeting place for the villagers.
    “Huh, that’s strange,” Jack said. “No one’s here.”

    Dink looked around, seeing no one in the gardens or on the porches. The only sounds were the insects and birds in the trees behind the huts.
    “Maybe the zombie stole everyone,” Josh whispered. He poked Dink in the back.
    “Don’t get creepy” Ruth Rose said.
    Dink tapped Jack on the arm. “There’s someone,” he said, pointing.
    A tall woman had stepped out of one of the huts and stood on the porch. Her gray hair fell almost to her waist. She wore a long dress that looked homemade. Her feet were bare.
    “Hello, Myrna,” Jack called. “I’d like you to meet Dink, Josh, and Ruth Rose. They’re here on vacation. Where is everyone?”
    The woman named Myrna nodded at the kids. She pointed toward a small trail to the left of her hut. “They’re all in there, looking at the graves,” she said.
    Jack looked where she pointed.
    “In the cemetery? Why?” Jack asked.
    Myrna shook her head. “You go see,” she said. “Very bad voodoo.” Then she turned and walked back into her hut.
    “What’s going on?” Dink asked.
    “I don’t know, but let’s go find out,” Jack