Stink and the Midnight Zombie Walk (7 page)

“Zombies, zombies everywhere!” said Stink. He waved to Mrs. D.

“It’s great that so many teachers from your school are here,” said Mom.

A teenager bared his fangs at Stink. “I vant to vite your veins! Mwa-ha-ha-ha.”

“Vampire-free zone,” said Stink, drawing an invisible circle around himself. “Zombies only.”

Stink found Sophie and Webster. “Zow-ee!” he said, pointing to the soccer shoe sticking out of Webster’s head. “Insane in the membrane!”

“Undead in the head!” said Webster. They cracked up.

Sophie of the Elves was now Zophia of the Girl Scouts. Even Zombalina was dressed in a mini green uniform. “Check out my badges,” Sophie said, pointing to her sash. “Zombie First Aid. Zombie Cookie Sales. And Zombie Friendship. You know, because zombies always stick together and travel in packs.”

“Why did you put tape over the campfire badge?” asked Webster.

“Duh! Because zombies hate fire!”

“Zool,” said Stink. “What time do they zopen the doors?”

“Nine o’clock zharp,” said Dad, checking his watch.

“What time is it now?”

“Eight fifty,” said Dad. “Ten more minutes.”

“Zen more minutes,” said Stink. “That’s like an hour in kid years.” He pressed his nose to the window of the bookstore. “Just think, in ten minutes, I’ll be holding Nightmare on Zombie Street, Book Number Five, in my very own hands. In ten minutes, I’ll be reading the actual brand-spanking-new, just-released, way-official
Creature with the Cootie Brain
.”

“Your brain has cooties,” said Judy.

“What time is it now?” Stink asked Dad.

“Eight fifty-three,” said Dad.

“And twenty-two zeconds,” said Mom.

Stink waved his hands at the front door of the bookstore. “Open Zombie!” he commanded. The keys in the front door went
jingle, jingle
. The door went
click
!

“Wow, I must have super magic zombie powers,” said Stink.

“Welcome to the Midnight Zombie Walk!” said the bookstore lady.

“Cootie brains, here I come,” said Stink. He, along with crowds of other kids, pushed through the doors. “Is this zombie rush hour or something?”

“Or something,” said Judy. She reached up to steady her Bridezilla wig.

While they waited, Stink and Judy spotted B.O.B. at the back of the bookstore. B.O.B. was wrapped in a big green bow.

When it was Stink’s turn, he sat Charlie Zombie on the counter and made him talk: “Zombie. Want. Book!” Charlie moaned at the bookstore clerk.

“He’d like Book Number Five, please,” Judy said, translating.

The bookstore lady handed a brand-spanking-new book to Stink. Stink handed over his money.

“Whoa!
Creature with a Cootie Brain
!” Stink sang. He could not help doing a little ‘I got it’ dance with his feet. Then he held the book to his nose and took a whiff.

“Stink. You’re smelling a book,” said Judy.

“So? New book smell is the best.”

“Don’t forget your
free
zombie cootie catcher,” said the bookstore lady. “Zombies use them to catch human cooties before they eat your brains.”

“Zank you,” said Stink.

Nightmare on Zombie Street, Book Five.
Creature with the Cootie Brain.
Page One.
A strange darkness fell over Zombie Street.
. . .

For ten minutes, a strange quiet fell over the bookstore. Zombies short and tall, cheerleader to cowboy, had their noses in books. Big zombies read to little zombies. Dad and Mom zombies read quietly to kid zombies.

Stink could not stop reading Book Number Five.
Fred went pale. Hoodoo and Voodoo clutched each other. “This is your last warning,” said Gilgamesh. “Beware the Creature with the cootie brain!”

Stink finished chapter 1.

Ding ding ding!
“Attention, everybody! May I have your attention!” said the bookstore lady. “I have an important announcement to make. I’ve just been told that one of our local schools, Virginia Dare Elementary, has reached one million minutes of reading!”

The crowd went wild. Zombies clapped and whooped and hollered.

Stink’s teacher, Mrs. Dempster, stood up. “To any Virginia Dare students here tonight, your teachers are proud of you. You’ve all worked really hard. Your parents are proud of you, too, but no one is prouder tonight than Ms. Tuxedo, the principal of Virginia Dare Elementary.”

A buzz went through the crowd.

“Where is she?”

“Where’s the principal?”

“Ms. Tuxedo could not be here with us tonight,” Mrs. Dempster continued.

“Awww!” everybody yelled.

Mrs. D. walked over to B.O.B. “So she has asked me to do the honors on her behalf, and open the Big Orange Box.”

“Bob!” screamed the crowd. “Bob! Bob! Bob! Bob! Bob!”

Mrs. D. held up a pair of scissors. A hush fell over the crowd.

Snip!
Mrs. D. cut the ribbon.

Mrs. D. grinned.
Voilà!

Mrs. D. opened one flap, then the other. The crowd held its breath.

Out of the box popped a haystack of half-black, half-white hair. Zombie hair! And the hair was perched on top of a . . . person! That person began to sing:

“Cruella De Zombie, Cruella De Zombie. If she doesn’t freak you out, nothing will.”

Cruella De Zombie wore a black-and-white spotted coat and bloodred boots. With a sweep of her arm, she tossed a black feather boa over her shoulder. A giant eyeball necklace gleamed in the spotlight. Next to her was a real-live dog — a Dalmatian, with a fake bloody arm in its mouth.

“Principal Tuxedo!” everybody yelled. The zombie principal held the eyeball up to her eye. “I vant to zee some reading!” The crowd went bonkers.

“Boys and girls,” shouted Principal Zombie. “Tonight we have reached our goal of reading one million minutes.”

“That’s one zillion in zombie talk,” said Stink.

“I have here a letter signed by none other than the First Lady of the United States. She would like to congratulate all of you for one million minutes of reading. Her letter says, ‘Reading grows strong hearts and minds, and you are an inspiration to children everywhere.’”

More clapping!

“People from all over our town who have been coming to the bookstore have pledged to donate books to our school library if we reached our goal. Thanks to every reader, the Virginia Dare School library will be receiving one thousand brand-new books! Hip, hip, hooray!”

“Will they all be zombie books?”

“That’s like the whole entire bookstore.”

“I’m still reading!” said a zombie firefighter in the corner.

“One last thing.” The principal tapped on the microphone. She cleared her throat. “I hereby officially declare”— she raised a finger in the air —“that reading is UN-dead!”

“W
ho’s ready for the Midnight Zombie Walk?” asked the bookstore lady.

“We are!”

“Who’s going to take over Main Street without fear?”

“Zombies!”

“I can’t
hear
you.”

“Zombies!”

“Louder!”