The Zombie Playground

by Brian Rowe

  “Oh shit!” Anaya screamed. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “I’m gonna get the cart. I’ll come back for you, Anaya. Don’t worry.”

  “Oh, that’s comforting! Brin! They’re gonna eat me!”

  “Anaya. Trust me.” She patted her hand against Anaya’s right shoulder and started running back toward the golf cart behind the clubhouse. “But please. Now more than ever before. Run. As fast as you can.”

  Anaya started following Brin’s advice, as the kid zombie jumped up and down, following the trail of Anaya’s blood. The other zombies couldn’t keep up, but they were walking fast and steady. Ash and Paul were still stuck in Brin’s car, with two remaining carnivores still reaching through the broken windows, trying to pull one or both outside for a delicious feast.

  Brin sprinted fast, like she was facing life and death (and she was). She reached the golf cart, which, despite its broken dashboard, was still in working condition. She turned around to see more members of the undead walking aimlessly, like once any humans disappeared from their line of vision they didn’t know what to do or where to go. She waited with trepidation for another dozen zombies to burst through the ground, but none did. She floored the golf cart and veered around the giant clubhouse.

  Brin darted her eyes to the left to see nine adult zombies and one child zombie following close behind Anaya as she stumbled toward the back of the parking lot. Brin figured Anaya still had time. She figured Ash and Paul were the ones that needed saving first.

  She jerked the cart to her right and traveled across the level pavement toward her Jeep, so beloved for these last four months, now a catastrophe of metal and glass. Ash was still inside, but Paul had found his way out. He had a zombie on top of him, ripping through the cartilage on his shoulder.

  “Paul! Oh my God! No!”

  Brin shoved her foot against the pedal and raced the golf cart straight for the zombie on top of Paul.

  “Paul! Push him off you!”

  “I can’t!”

  “Goddammit, now!”

  Paul kicked his feet up and shoved the zombie to the side. He started crawling backward, barely fast enough to escape Brin’s course of direction. The zombie moaned in frustration and stumbled up to his feet just as Brin slammed the cart against his body and knocked him back down to the ground. The wheels ran over his stomach and legs and Brin stopped it just a few feet in front of the creature. He was injured but still moving. He flailed his arms up in the air and moaned again. Brin put the cart in reverse and looked back to get the angle right. She aimed the left wheels at the zombie’s wide, revolting head and floored the cart backward. She exhaled happily as the wheels crushed the zombie’s head into a mush of moldy brain cheese.

  “Get in!” she shouted at Paul. He jumped in next to her and pointed to Ash.

  “Hurry! He’s still in the car!”

  Brin looked at Ash, screaming in the flipped over car, and then she peered across the way at Anaya, who was miraculously still going strong as the horde of zombies chased after her. Anaya was being smart. She wasn’t running in just one direction; she was taking the zombies in circles around the lot.

  Ash was clearly trying to kick through the last window in Brin’s car that hadn’t shattered, but he wasn’t prevailing. The zombie, large and intimidating, the last one trying to harm Ash, had the top half of his body shoved through the broken window. Brin took a deep breath. She knew what she had to do.

  “This is quite the gruesome day,” she said to Paul. Then she shrugged. “I’m just sayin’.”

  Brin jerked the cart to the right, so that it was parallel with her Jeep. She went reverse for a few seconds, then stopped.

  “Brin! Please!” Ash screamed. “He’s got my arm! Oh my God!”

  Brin sped forward, Paul hanging tightly onto her waist, as the golf cart scraped up against the Jeep and promptly split the zombie’s body in two. Brin stopped the cart immediately and watched in disgust as the creature’s severed legs rolled down the gravel pavement.

  Brin and Paul turned around to see thick banana-sized intestines fall out of the zombie’s severed belly. The creature had been annihilated. But was it dead?

  Nope.

  “He’s still alive!” Ash shouted. “He’s still reaching for me!”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” Brin said and raced over to her car. She gripped onto the zombie’s slimy sides and pulled him out. He was still moaning, still breathing, even though only the top half of his body remained.

  “The head, Brin!” Ash said. “Zombie rule number one! You have to destroy the head!”

  Brin motioned to the vampire. “Come help me, Paul.”

  The zombie tried to crawl up Brin’s legs, but she shook him off. Brin pursed her lips and peered up at Paul.

  “You know what I’m thinking?” she said.

  “I think so.”

  “I go, then you go.”

  “Oh God,” he said. “Do I have to?” He looked like he was going to throw up.

  Brin shook her head. “Really? You’re a freaking vampire and you’re gonna get all queasy on me?”

  “All right, let’s go.”

  “OK. Bring your leg up.” They both were going to stomp on the zombie’s face. “And, three, two, one—”

  Brin prepared to start stomping, but in the end, all she and Paul had to do was stand back and try not to watch.

  Ash emerged from the Jeep, his face stained in yellow goop, a maniacal look on his face that suggested he was ready to whoop some ass. He planted his foot on top of the zombie’s head, then started jumping on it, over and over again. He screamed real loud as his foot started crushing the giant head, brain matter splattering every which way. As the zombie finally stopped moving, and as Brin and Paul tried to keep their mouths from dropping down to their belly buttons in repulsion, Ash jumped up super high and brought both of his feet down onto the creature’s head one last time, crushing it into a mushy yellow pulp.

  “All right,” Ash said, wiping blood from his face and trying to catch his breath. “Got the bastard.”

  “You did more than get him, Ash,” Brin said. “You destroyed him.”

  “Help!” Anaya shouted across the way. In all this excitement, Brin had forgotten about the girl. Still with the zombies behind her, now with the child zombie gripping onto her legs, Anaya was running slowly toward the trio.

  “Everyone, get in the cart!” Brin screamed, and she jumped back into the driver’s seat. She watched as Ash and Paul fought over the seat next to Brin. There was barely enough room in the cart for two people, let alone three, but they managed. Paul shoved past Ash and pushed himself up against Brin, while Ash took a seat reluctantly on the side.

  “Brin, start the cart!” Ash shouted as Anaya charged toward them, gritting her teeth, groaning in pain, enough sweat dripping off her forehead to fill a whole bucket.

  “I know, I know,” she said. She stepped hard on the pedal.

  Nothing happened.

  “Let’s go!” Ash said. “What are you waiting for?”

  “It’s not…” Brin shoved her foot against the pedal three more times. “I can’t believe it!”

  Anaya was mere yards away, with a dozen ravenous zombies following close behind.

  “What’s wrong?” Ash said.

  Brin turned to Ash, total panic on her face. “The cart won’t start!”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Brin pressed the pedal a fifth time. Again, nothing.

  “The key! It’s on the OFF position!” Paul shouted. He leaned forward to turn the key back to ON, but such a task seemed easier than it proved to be.

  “Well?” Brin said.

  “It’s stuck. Damn it.”

  Anaya jumped on the back of the cart. “Go, go, go, go!”

  “We’re trying!” Brin said.

  “What do you mean you’re trying? We have five seconds!”

  “The key’s stuck!”

  “Paul,” Anaya said, her voice deepening, the distress
in her demeanor running a chill through Brin’s body. She turned around to see Anaya tighten her grip on the roof of the cart. “Paul, move your head down.”

  If Paul hadn’t dove down to the floor of the cart at that second, Anaya might have taken his head off. With the zombies close to overtaking the cart, she swung through the back of the cart Tarzan-style and kicked the stuck key up to the ON position.

  Brin heard the engine rev, and she slammed her foot against the pedal. As the boy zombie leapt for her face, the cart started up and zoomed forward.

  The boy didn’t jump far enough and got his head crushed beneath the wheels. The cart went faster and faster, and soon they were mowing down the rest of the zombies like a lawnmower over dog shit.

  The last of the zombies jumped for Anaya but she punched his face in mid-air and watched with glee as he slammed his head against the pavement.

  “Woo hoo!” Ash shouted. “Yeah! We made it!”

  “Oh my God,” Brin said, shaking her head in disbelief. “That was close.”

  “Tell me about it,” Paul said.

  “Are they still following us?”

  The boys turned around. Not all the zombies were decimated; some were still walking past the clubhouse toward the paved road. But they were too far behind to pose a threat.

  “We’re OK,” Ash said. “They can’t catch up to us now.”

  “They better not,” Paul added.

  “We’re not exactly going the speed of light in this thing,” Brin said. “Let’s not celebrate until we find civilization.”

  “Can you go any faster?” Anaya said from the back.

  “We’re in a golf cart, Anaya! Not a race car!” Plus you’re weighing us down! Brin wanted to say, but she didn’t. She turned to Ash. “Here, give me your cell phone. I’ll call for help.”

  “No, let’s use yours,” he said. “I left mine in my bag.”

  “I left mine in my bag.”

  They both turned to Paul. He put his hands up in the air. “Hey, don’t look at me. I still don’t own a cell phone. No reception in Bodie.” He laughed, but nobody else did.

  Ash leaned back and yelled at Anaya, “Hey, do you have your cell phone on you?”

  “Oh, I left mine in my bag! What about you guys?”

  Ash narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. He looked ready to dry heave.

  “What’s the matter?” Brin said. “What’d she say?”

  “I just saw way too much of our friend Anaya.”

  “Ash! What’d she say?”

  “She doesn’t have it. We’re phoneless.”

  “Damn it,” Brin said. They were slowing every minute. Worse, the winding road that lead to the clubhouse went on forever. Brin figured it would take another ten minutes just to find the main road.

  “Is there a faster way out of here?” Paul said, pointing to the right. “There’s a bunch of dirt roads along here.”

  “We don’t want to get lost. We want to stay on pavement. Zombies can’t burst through pavement.”

  The road veered left. Brin couldn’t see up ahead. She didn’t see the main road, but at the same time, she didn’t see any creatures of supernatural origin.

  Except for the guy sitting next to me, she thought.

  “Look!” Ash said, pointing. “There’s Grisly High!” It was a speck in the distance, but viewable from the road nonetheless.

  Brin peered at the school. She wasn’t sure how she’d be able to go back to classes tomorrow. She still hadn’t gotten over the Bodie tragedy. How could she show her face after now surviving two deadly incidents?

  “That is, if I do actually survive today,” Brin whispered.

  “What was that?” Paul said.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Ash said. “That’s not nothing!” He pointed again, this time forward.

  Brin looked at the grisly sight up ahead, opened her mouth in shock, and slammed on the brakes.

  “What are you doing?” Anaya said. “Push through them!”

  “No,” Brin said, trying to remain calm. “There’s too many. Oh my God, there’s way too many of them!”

  Brin looked forward to see a small car flipped over on its side, roaring with fire, two dead bodies sprawled out on the pavement, a hundred zombies or more fighting for a scrumptious bite of burnt but succulent human flesh. They were all wild and ravenous, all slugging each other, seemingly ripping through their own skin just so they could consume the humans’.

  Anaya stepped down from the back of the cart, and Brin joined her. They huddled together, crossed their arms, and tried to assess the new dire situation.

  “What are we gonna do?” Anaya whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Brin said. “At least they don’t see us.”

  But see them the zombies did. It only took a second. One zombie noticed the very much alive quartet in the cart, then five more, then twenty more.

  “Spoke too soon,” Anaya said.

  The zombies returned to their feet and stared at the group by the cart. Ash stepped out on the right side and brought his hand to his mouth. “Oh God,” he said. “Is that…”

  “I don’t believe it,” Brin said. “It is.”

  The massive horde of zombies had a leader. Her skin had turned bright yellow, most of her hair had been hacked off, and one of her eyes was missing.

  But it was the cheerleader, all right.

  Lavender stared at the quartet, grinned, and motioned for all the other zombies to follow her.

  “He-he-he-he,” Lavender said. “LUNCH TIME!”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Zombie Lavender led all the other icky scary carnivores toward the group. Brin turned back to the cart, but Anaya beat her to the driver’s seat.

  “Hey!” Brin said, grabbing Anaya’s arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Who designated you our driver, huh? Get on the back!”

  Brin looked at the boys, waiting for them to come to her defense. But they didn’t. They just stared at Brin like two little girls in need of someone big and strong to tell them what to do.

  She shook her head. “Unbelievable.” She stepped up to the back of the cart and slammed her fist against the roof. “Let’s go!”

  The zombies were marching faster than before, but Lavender was easily moving the quickest. As Anaya started up the cart, Lavender was already halfway to them.

  “Hold on tight, boys!” Anaya shouted.

  “And girl!” Brin said.

  “Oh, right, I keep forgetting.”

  Anaya drove forward, at the zombies, doubling the cart’s speed in mere seconds.

  “No! Don’t!” Brin shouted, banging on the roof again. “There’s too many of them! Go around them!”

  But Anaya wasn’t listening. She was zooming straight for Lavender, head on.

  “You’re gonna kill us! Paul! Do something!”

  Brin looked down to see Paul trying to turn the wheel, but Anaya kept shaking her head. Paul finally pushed her hands away and grabbed the wheel, but she shoved him to the right, almost knocking Ash out of the cart and onto the pavement.

  Lavender was ten yards away. She smiled big as the cart came toward her.

  “Hang on, Brin!” Anaya shouted.

  “Oh my God! What the hell are you doing!”

  Anaya didn’t respond. Instead, she repeated, “Hang on!”

  Brin didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to jump off the cart and run the opposite direction. Another part of her wanted to insist Anaya drive faster so that they could blow through the currently deformed version of Lavender and split her into a dozen pieces.

  But all she could do was close her eyes.

  The cart sped toward Lavender, but she had to be the most intelligent zombie of all, because she didn’t let the cart mow her over; she jumped up at the last second and grabbed hold of the top of the cart.

  Anaya screamed, and Brin opened her eyes. Not only could Anaya now not see in front of her, Lavender’s legs blocking her sight, but Brin
was now staring eye to eye with the villainous former cheerleader, now zombie commander-in-chief.

  “Oh my God!” Anaya shouted, and before she could hit the other zombies, she stopped the cart and went in reverse.

  Lavender tried to climb to the top of the roof, but she couldn’t find her footing. Instead she reached out for Brin’s face, recklessly, maniacally. The girl may have been the smartest of the zombies, but she certainly still desired the one thing the rest of them did: human flesh.

  “Lavender! Stop!”

  “MMMMM!” Lavender shouted. “BRINNNNN! FOOOOOOOOD!”

  “Oh God!” Brin could feel Lavender’s fingertips brushing against her face. She leaned back, and almost fell, when Anaya slammed on the cart brakes again.

  This abrupt stop gave Lavender the physical motion she needed to leap all the way up to the roof of the cart.

  “FOOOOOOOD! EAAAAAAAT!”

  As the dozens of zombies charged toward the cart, Anaya changed course, slamming her foot on the pedal and veering right, down the ravine and toward Grisly High. But Brin wasn’t concerned with where they were going; she was concerned with the zombie reaching for her throat.

  Brin ducked, held a tight grip on the side of the cart and leaned down as far as she could. Lavender was planted stomach first on the roof of the car, trying her best to pull a chunk out of Brin’s cheeks, neck, or shoulders.

  “Anaya!” Brin screamed. “Swerve the cart! Shake her off!”

  Anaya hadn’t been listening to Brin all that much today, but she listened to that. As the cart barreled toward a huge forest, and toward Clyde and Crispin, Anaya started swerving the cart, back and forth, again and again, to the point of nausea.

  But Lavender held on tight.

  “NOOOOO!” Lavender shouted. “I WANT FOOOOOOD!”

  Lavender finally caught Brin’s long raven hair in her hand and started pulling her up to the top of the cart.

  “Owwww!” Brin screamed, the cart still swerving, Ash again almost falling out the right side. “Lavender, what happened to you? What the hell happened to you?”