The Saga Of Tom Stinson (Book 1): Summer School Zombocalypse (7 page)

Cutting through back yards and climbing over fences, they followed the secret pathways that only kids know. Tom found it was way more work than he’d expected. The twins weren’t good at much of anything; some kids never get outside, never learn how to do stuff. Their parents keep them in because either they’re too busy to watch them, or they don’t trust the neighborhood they live in. It was frustrating and it slowed them down.

“
Where are all the people?” Winston stared into a kitchen window. “Not everyone can be gone. We can’t be the only ones who made it. Can we?”

“
Quiet,” Tom shushed. “We have to be careful, we don’t know what’s in these yards.”

“
I do. Big evil monsters that want to eat us, or worse,” Winston said.

“
We know they aren’t monsters,” Emmett snapped, “don’t be so stupid.”

“
Do you have to be a jerk all the time?” Winston pushed Emmett.

“
It’s why we are checking each yard first,” Tom said. “My plan is to move quickly and quietly, but carefully.”

“
We’re not moving quickly,” Emmett complained. “That house is empty. See, the windows and the back door? Wide open.”

“
If you two could climb over the fences better I wouldn’t worry about it so much, but you’re so slow that if we make a mistake, I don’t think we will survive. Maybe we can leave you to feed the zombies if something goes wrong, Emmett.”

“
Don’t talk to my brother that way,” Winston said.

Tom kicked a teddy bear, sending it tumbling across a yard. “I’m not talking. I’m telling. See all these suitcases and packs, what do they tell you?”

“
That the danger is gone. If there were any zombies here, wouldn’t they attack?” Emmett asked.

“
Maybe we should call out to see if anyone is here,” Winston said.

Tom put his finger to his mouth and shushed him. “It would be like painting yourself with bright pink paint and running down the street yelling “Here I am zombies. Come get me.”

The tearing of packaging crinkled behind Tom.

“
Give me a doughnut, Emmett.”

“
No, butt head. Get your own.”

“
You have to share, remember. Don’t kick that.”

A family sized jar of pickles scooted down the driveway past Tom and shattered against the house. The smell of pickles in the air tickled his nose and made his mouth water. Tom turned. “What the hell did you do that for?”

Sugar glaze and crumbs stuck to Emmett’s face. “You kicked the teddy bear.”

“
Don’t,” Tom said. “Just keep it together long enough to get home. Then you’re on your own.”

“
Tom, what do you say to the freaking out pickle?”

“
I’m not answering that Emmett.”

“
If we don’t joke you’re going to crack, Tom. There’s no one around, we are safe.”

“
What if you’re wrong?”

Finally they climbed over the last of the backyard fences on their journey to the twins’ house. There was a car in the driveway that stood out above all the others they passed. A shotgun and a large camouflaged backpack sat on the hood.

Like kids who are excited by the prospect of getting a new toy, the twins burst out, “Shotgun.”

Tom latched onto their backpack straps to keep them from running into the yard. “Wait. Nothing has changed in the last 10 minutes.”

He scanned the yard, giving it extra attention for any sign of danger.

The twins twisted in his grasp. “We need that gun.”

“
You guys! It’s like herding cats. Settle down.”

The yard was clear enough. He tugged the twins back behind him and ran to the shot gun. They crowded around him and grabbed for the it. Tom raised the shotgun over his head and kicked at their legs to keep it away from them. “Back off!”

“
Do you even know how to use that?”

The shotgun was heavy but felt good in his hands. “Do you, Emmett? There’s nothing to it. See like in the movies, make sure the safety is off or the monster is going to get you. Point and shoot.”

“
If you don’t know how to use a gun you, should put it down.”

“
Now’s not the time to worry about safety Winston. Eat your doughnut.”

At the end of the driveway they found the first sign of what looked like a person. It was just pieces of skin and bone and some parts like a tootsie roll smeared across hot pavement on the grass. It could have been a big dog; he had never seen anything like it before.

“
What’s that?” Emmett gasped.

Tom stepped forward. “I can’t tell if it’s a dog or a person.”

Winston spit his doughnut out. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“
Don’t think about it. There’s nothing we can do,” Tom shrugged. “Stay close. We’ll hug the houses to keep out of sight.”

They worked their way down the block, stopping to hide in the tall bushes of the house on the corner. Tom whispered to the twins as he pointed to the street sign, “Morton. One last street to cross, and you are home free. Right?”

It was the intersection where they had clipped the crashed car, before another one smashed into it and landed on top.

“
There’s another body,” Winston held his stomach. “He’s hanging by his leg from the windshield.”

Glass crunched under their feet as they crossed the street. “I don’t want to get too close. It smells so bad,” Emmett said.

The twins couldn’t keep their eyes off the driver. Winston waved his arms. “There’s so many flies. Why’s his skin green, pink and red? The flies are crawling in his mouth and his face is sunken in and puffed up too.”

They kept their distance. Across the street, the twins expressions turned from grim to glee as their feet touched the curb. This was their territory and every step closer to their house, fed their excitement. They were bouncing, practically bubbling over with joy. “There. There. It’s there,” they shouted.

“
Quiet,” Tom urged, trying to control them. “Go slow, we have to be careful. We . . .”

“
There’s no one here,” Emmett interrupted, paying no attention to what Tom said. “I’m sick of going slow. There’s nothing around. The zombies are gone.”

Suddenly the twins sprinted, bounding like gazelles down the block toward their house.

“
Damn it,” Tom sighed. “I don’t have the energy for this. Fly, be free, you obnoxious twerps.”

“
Come on, Tom!” Winston called out.

The twins’ screen door clicked against the porch railing. Winston bunched up against Emmett as he opened their heavy oak door and disappeared into the house. Reluctantly Tom picked up his pace. He could hear the twins shout announcing that they were home.

“
Mom! Dad!” they called.

The hope in their voices fell silent in the empty house.

Then Winston screamed. “Dad! NO!”

Tom ran.

Winston tripped over Emmett as they tumbled down the porch stairs and landed in a heap. The expressions on their faces were painted with fear.

The screen door was flung open, clacking violently against the handrail of the porch. From out of the house, their dad emerged. He was a tall, thin figure. His skin was chalk white, with purple streaks running up and down his lifeless face.

The twins scrambled to their feet and rushed to Tom’s side, narrowly evading the grasps of their zombie father.

Raising the shotgun, Tom stood between the twins and their father. His arms and legs shook.

“
Don’t shoot him,” Emmett pleaded, holding onto Tom and pulling at his shirt. “Please don’t shoot him.”

Shooting anyone, let alone the twins’ father, was not what he wanted. Maybe he could reason with him. Tom opened his mouth to speak. The words were there, but they didn’t come out. All he could do was whisper for him not to come any closer. He felt powerless to stop what he knew was going to have to happen.

“
Dad, Dad, It’s us!” Their voices cracked with hope that what they were seeing wasn’t real. They wanted him to stop, to open his arms, and tell them how much he loved them, to make it all go away, and be alright again.

“
Stop right there. Don’t come any closer,” Tom managed to get it out finally, but the twins’ father kept on coming.

The trigger moved easier that he thought. His eyes closed as he squeezed it tightly. The shotgun bucked in his hands and his body recoiled from the kick. He almost dropped the shotgun.

“
NO!” the twins cried out and rushed to their dad, crumpling on top of him. They held his lifeless body in their arms, looking to and away in denial, hiccuping inaudible words of loss.

Realizing what he had done, Tom stood still and stared. It wasn’t their dad, but it was, and there was no question as to whether he was dead or not, now. His face flushed. “I. . . I. . . I,” he croaked.

Emmett’s grief turned to anger and he turned to Tom. “How can you stand there? You did this! What if this was your dad?”

Tom could barely hear him. His ears were still ringing from the blast of the shotgun. Emmett’s voice was muffled. All that he could get out was, “I protected you,” and he couldn’t tell if they heard him.

Down the driveways and out of the houses the zombies came, like limping speed walkers. The blast of the shotgun called them to start a race. Tom’s heart pounded in his throat; they weren’t gone after all. He grabbed Winston by the arm and pulled him to his feet.

“
Oh crap,” Tom said, “we gotta go right now.”

With a forlorn look Emmett turned to Tom. “It’s no use. They’re going to get us one way or another. Our dad is here. I’m not leaving him.”

“
What?” Tom said, surprised by Emmett’s decision. “You’re giving up?”

Emmett was resigned to stay, his dad was dead, and he wanted to end it. You could see it in his eyes. He had given in to despair.

Tom wasn’t going to let that happen. What Emmett needed was hope, something to make him move, something to want to live for.

Tom held onto Winston’s arm and knelt down. “You can’t stay here. Think about Winston. He needs you. We have to do something to clear our way through, otherwise we will be trapped here. Can you please come with us?”

Emmett shook his head. “No.”

“
Emmett, please,” Winston begged him.

“
No.”

“
I’m not giving up,” Tom told him. “I won’t be defeated. Not by you and not by the zombies.” Then to Winston, who didn’t seem as shaken. “Get him to come.”

Winston wiped the tears from his eyes with his forearm. “Get up Emmett. What about mom? We have to find her. She was at work, we can find her. Come on.”

“
You love mom more,” Emmett said.

When Emmett didn’t budge, Tom snatched him by the elbow and pulled. “Help me drag him. We gotta get out of here now.”

“
Wait,” Emmett said, standing up straight. “I’ll go. I’ll help. We’ll find mom.”

Emmett looked different to Tom. He was determined, but cold and distant. He stooped over and straightened his dad’s collar and said goodbye. He had chosen to live, but for how long?

They ran; this time their path was not cutting through yards, it was out in the open and straight back to Tom’s house. The zombies were right on top of them. Tom whirled around to shoot the closest zombies and fired, but he only peppered them with buckshot. The zombies didn’t slow down. How could he have missed when shotguns don’t miss? It was only the second time he’d fired a gun, and he decided that it was better to run until he got more practice aiming.

Tom spun around. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a zombie dive out from a second floor window headed directly for Winston. “Jump!” He vaulted himself forward, pushing Winston out of the way.

The zombie landed with a dull thud, clipping Tom’s legs and knocking him to the ground. He lost his grip on the shotgun and it tumbled across the grass. The zombie grabbed for Tom as he scrambled to get away. Tom cried for help.

On the ground near the twins lay a baseball bat. Winston picked it up and charged, swinging wildly. His first strike didn’t do anything, but he kept swinging and after several quick blows he bashed in the zombie’s head, knocking it off Tom.

At the same time Emmett rushed in and picked up the shotgun. He raised it to fire at the group of zombies that were closing in on them. He stood there just pointing the gun, but he had no idea how to shoot it. He froze. Tom got on his feet and grabbed the gun, pulling Emmett by his shirt. He yelled for them to run.

To their relief Tom’s backyard was empty and they quickly climbed up the ladder to safety. The twins folded on the dirty tree house floor, wailing and out of breath.