Zombie Town

by R.L. Stine

out!” I leaped onto her porch and burst through the front door. “Karen!” I shouted. “Karen!” Karen stepped out from one of the rooms. She stood at the end of the hall, gazing at me. “Unnh!” she groaned and licked her lips. Patches of green mold had already started growing on her face. Drool spilled out of her torn mouth. She moaned again. “Unnnnnh!” I raced back to the front door. Mr. Bradley lumbered onto the porch. Behind him came my family. Zipper staggered ahead of them, growling. The movie zombies lurched up the sidewalk. I spun around. Karen still stood at the end of the hall, blocking the back door. I heard a thump—and whirled around. Mr. Bradley’s arm had dropped off. He howled and kept staggering toward the door. Zipper lunged for the arm with an evil, vicious snarl. “Unnnnh!” Karen moaned. She took a heavy, plodding step toward me. Another. Another. The zombies shuffled across the porch, crowding around the front door. I dove into the hall and tumbled into the living room. I hopped to my feet and ran through the archway into the dining room. As I raced around the table, I grabbed bananas and apples from the fruit bowl and scattered them behind me. Maybe it will slow them down, I thought. Maybe they’ll slip and fall. They won’t eat the fruit, of course. They need flesh. My flesh.