by Max Brallier
In unison the zombies moan.
Savini begins to turn. You can see him trying to fight it off. “Go—go now,” he says. “Far away from here. Just go.”
Savini hobbles to his feet. “George, George old friend. This is madness.”
George turns.
He shakes his head. “Tom, Tom, Tom… Please, don’t interfere.”
Then George points at Savini and barks out “Vast minch. Enreark!”
Six of the zombies step forward. George points at Savini.
Savini doesn’t resist. He stands, ready for it. The monsters tackle him. Devour him.
“Enziet!”
The monsters stop. Slowly, they return to where they were.
“Farich!”
The zombies turn. Begin marching out the door. All of them. Back through the maze of overturned booths.
George walks behind them, letting them lead the way. Finally, they reach the exit. George barks an order, and they leave, out into the streets.
And George follows.
The place is silent. Just you and the kid. Your head is spinning. Can’t believe what you just heard—what you just saw.
“What was that?” the kid asks.
“Kid, if I told you, you’d never believe me,” you say, and you push open the exit door, grab him by his hand, and take off running.
THE END