Zack & Zoey's Alien Apocalypse -or- Alien Busting Ninja Adventure

by MJ Ware

  "That's it?" I didn't hide my disappointment. "What are you going to do to the aliens, dry clean them?"

  "No, this should work. Well, maybe something a bit stronger than this, but not much."

  "I don't get it," Zoey said.

  "Remember how Ms. Brass held off that alien with only a pair of rulers?"

  "That, and about two hundred pounds of insane, pent-up-teacher-rage." I picked up the hangers to see if they were really as weak as they seemed.

  "But the alien still managed to spit them out," Zoey added.

  "Only when she stopped holding them down." Sunny looked at us as though we were stupid. "Listen, have you ever watched crocodile wranglers?"

  "You mean there's a show with guys wrestling crocodiles?"

  "Not a show, Zack. It's a job. These guys can hold the crocodile's mouth closed with one hand. Crocodile mouths are only designed for shutting. They're really weak when it comes to opening."

  "That settles it. I'm quitting school and joining a traveling band of crocodile wranglers. It's gotta be safer than sitting around here waiting to become lunch."

  "What do crocodiles have to do with the aliens?" Zoey rolled her eyes at me.

  "It's the same with the aliens. Their mouths are designed for swallowing, not spitting stuff back out, not even for chewing."

  "I still don't get it."

  "All we have to do is wedge them open," she said, "using something they can't spit out—something that will get stuck."

  "So, exactly how's that thing supposed to work?" Zoey asked, as if Sunny’s plan was starting to make sense to her.

  "Simple, you stuff this, or maybe something stronger, down its throat, and they can't spit it out. They can't chew it up. It'll get stuck. And if they can't close their mouths, then they can't breathe."

  "I'm not so sure. They must be able to swallow something like this." I tossed the hangers on her desk.

  "No, they can't. Their teeth won't have anything to grip. It will get wedged in. I'm sure of it."

  "Well, I guess it's worth a try. But how do we make a stronger one?"

  "I haven't figured that part out yet. Give me a day or two."

  Turned out, we didn't have that much time.

  The rain came down in sheets. Everyone was wet and soggy and miserable at lunch. At least most of the kids weren't totally freaked out anymore. Someone had captured our alien counterattack on his camera phone and posted in on YouTube. Sixteen million views later, most of us were feeling pretty cocky.

  Even I wasn't paying much attention to the sky. I huddled, trying to stay dry under Zoey's umbrella while making sure to keep out of pecking range.

  "All we need is something a bit stronger." Sunny was going on and on about her invention. "Hopefully something we can buy right off the shelf and don't have to assemble."

  "How about a TV antenna?" Zoey picked the chocolate chips out of her granola bar and flicked them on the bench.

  "Too big."

  "A hubcap?" I suggested, eating the chips before they broke the five-second rule.

  "Close, but it'd be hard to get it in perpendicular."

  Over the sound of the rain, we didn't hear the saucers until they were practically on top of us. Three ships slid in close to the building before they turned on their tractor beams; their amber lights desperately searching for something to latch onto. Instantly, we all pressed up against the building, barely out of reach.

  Each kid clutched a ball of some sort in his or her hand—desperate as old west cowboys about to make a last stand.

  I began to think maybe the aliens didn't want to get wet when at least a dozen bailed out. Something was up. Each alien held some sort of device that looked like ray guns straight out of a bad sci-fi movie.

  Someone hollered, "Wait till they open up." But everyone already knew the drill.

  Just one problem: The aliens didn't open their mouths. When they got within a few yards, kids panicked and hurled balls, which bounced off their ginormous heads. The aliens didn't bother getting any closer. They just started shooting those ray guns. Each kid they hit was instantly engulfed in a big, electric-blue bubble and slowly floated away—right into the ship's eager tractor beams.

  They were going to pick us off one-by-one—unless I did something.

  "Give me that." I ripped an umbrella away from Tommy Traddles, who was trying to hide behind it. It was green with little eyes that popped up out of the top, like Kermit the Frog. Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead with a Muppet umbrella, but that wasn't exactly my biggest worry right then.

  I closed it and ran toward the nearest alien. I was going to ram that thing so far down his throat he'd need a tonsillectomy to get it out.

  But the monster's mouth wasn't open. I had to figure out a way to get him to open up, or any second, he’d simply shoot me and be done with it. So, I did the only thing I could think of. If the aliens thought we smelled tasty, I'd give him a reason to salivate.

  I pulled up my shirt and rubbed my armpit right against the alien's soggy nose. It didn't take more than a second for him to open wide.

  I was so disgusted by the alien boogers that were now slithering down my armpit that I almost forgot to open the umbrella. Fortunately, it was the automatic kind, and right as the alien lifted me over his head—jaws wide open, tons of teeth ready—I aimed my weapon and pressed the button. The spokes popped open and the whole thing lodged in the alien’s esophagus.

  I knew the alien was done for as soon as he dropped me. He wiggled about, eyes bulging so much they looked like giant, pus-filled marshmallows.

  Several of the alien’s friends saw what was happening and raced toward us. I picked up the ray gun and shot three of them before the others had a chance to duck.

  The aliens that weren't floating away shot back, but I dove behind the umbrellaed alien, who had stopped moving. We were exchanging fire when I saw Zoey out of the corner of my eye. I thought she was handing me an umbrella or maybe a ball, but she went floating past me.

  "Zoey!" I cried. She yelled something back, but I couldn't hear through the bubble.

  I gave chase, firing at the last couple aliens. But within a few seconds, Zoey was out of reach, caught in an alien tractor beam. I jumped, reaching up for her, but I wasn't even close.

  Someone pulled me from behind as a yellow beam swept in front of me.

  "No, I've gotta save her!" I screamed.

  "It's too late." Sunny didn't let go.

  "I can't let them eat Zoey. I—I really kinda like her."

  "Just come on. I have an idea." She kept dragging me back as I watched Zoey, along with the aliens I'd shot, float up into the flying saucers, which then sped away.

  I stared at the empty sky, wishing that if I tried hard enough, somehow I could make her come back.

  Chapter 8 - When It Rains, It Pours

  I know you are dying to find out what happened with Zoey, but before we get there, there's something you've gotta understand. You should never, never, ever assault your principal—unless he's feeding your classmates to a horde of hungry aliens, or possibly zombies.

  That's really the only way you can convince a school board that you totally had no choice and, in fact, were performing a public service by taking the principal out.

  Unfortunately, I know this firsthand.

  "I can't believe they caught Zoey. I shoulda let her kiss me—it wouldn't have been that bad," I moaned.

  "Will you stop thinking about kissing Zoey?" Sunny's head shook limply like a broken bobblehead. "If you want to save her, we've got to act fast."

  "Save her, how?" I tried to hold back tears. "She's in their ship."

  "Yes, but I know where they're going next."

  "You do, how?"

  "The last two times they've attacked our school, they went immediately to the high school, then the Shady Grave Retirement Home. It's been on the news."

  "So, we go to the high school?"

  "No, we'll never get there in time. We'll need a lift to even make it
to the retirement home."

  "Then, come on. There's no time to lose." Now I was pulling her.

  We ran to the front of the school, ignoring the office staff calling after us.

  "Should we take bikes?" I asked.

  "No, not fast enough. Let's head to the street, try to flag someone down."

  We started running across the parking lot right as Principal Blathers drove up in his yellow '92 Volvo station wagon. Apparently, he hadn't wanted to be around to host today's alien buffet. He saw us and drove directly at Sunny and me. For half a second, I thought he was going to hit us, but the car braked inches from where we stood. He jumped out.

  "You two, what do you think you are doing?" He put his hands on his waist like he thought he was a superhero or something.

  "Principal Blathers, the aliens took Zoey. We have to save her," I pleaded.

  "Don't talk nonsense, you nasty little bogswapper. I've caught you red-handed trying to ditch school." He was so mad the rain on his bald head began to steam. "Don't give me any excuses."

  "There's just one thing, Principal Blathers." Sunny's big smile reminded me a little of a deranged clown. "You've forgotten one rule."

  "What's that?" he snapped.

  "Zack, do you know what I'm talking about?" She winked at me, as if I was supposed to know what the heck she was saying.

  "Umm, no."

  "You've left your car running. And you know why you should never do that, don't you?"

  "Well, I guess I'm contributing to greenhouse gasses—"

  Before he could finish, she told him, "Because someone might drive off with it." She made a break for the car.

  Apparently, I was supposed to follow, but it took me a second to process the fact that Sunny was attempting to car-jack the principal.

  I ran after her. But Blathers had figured out what was going on, too. He reached out and snagged my arm as I ran past. I tried to wiggle free, but he had me with both arms and held tight.

  So, I really had no choice—it's not like I wanted to kick the school's chief administrator in the kneecap, but I had to try to save Zoey. And I didn't actually kick Principal Blathers in the kneecap anyway. I tried, but I missed and hit something a little higher, something a little more sensitive. He crumpled faster than a bad report card.

  I jumped into the car and found I was in the driver’s seat. "I can't drive."

  "Well, you're about three inches taller than me, so at least you can reach the pedals."

  Principal Blathers was still on the ground, but he at least seemed to be regaining consciousness—rolling around in pain.

  "Okay, I can do this. I just need to concentrate." I pulled the lever to put the car in gear.

  "Put it in Reverse." Sunny reached over and changed gears. "We're in enough trouble without running over the principal too."

  "Thanks." I pressed the gas. Tires squealing, the car shot backward. I had no idea a Volvo station wagon could go so fast. I was about to hit the brakes, but Sunny reached over and yanked the steering wheel hard to the right.

  The car spun around like that teacup ride at Disneyland and quickly jerked to a stop. "Whoa," I howled. We were in the middle of the parking lot's entrance, and the front half of the car stuck out into the street.

  Sunny changed gears, then stomped hard on my foot. "Drive," she said as the car lurched forward.

  "I thought you couldn't reach the pedals." I steered the car to the right side of the road.

  "We've gotta hurry."

  "You are the worst backseat driver ever."

  "I'm in the passenger seat." She put on her seatbelt. "Left here," she added as we were halfway through the intersection.

  I jerked the steering wheel over. The car started to turn and then slid along the wet road. It hopped up on the sidewalk and smashed into a newspaper vending machine with a crash.

  "Who reads the newspaper anymore?" Sunny asked as we sped away.

  "No one." I clicked on the wipers to scrape wet newspaper off the windshield. "That's why there are so many of them in there." I quickly pulled the wheel to get the wagon back on the road.

  Sunny braced herself against the dash. "You're right. I should have driven."

  "Maybe if you'd give me more than a half-second’s notice before a turn." I didn't take my eyes off the road. "Hey, it's pulling to the right."

  "You probably bent the A-frame. Bet this car will never drive straight again."

  "Do you think there's any chance Principal Blathers won't expel us?"

  "There's no way he'll expel us." She smiled. "He'd rather feed us to the aliens. Go left at Grover."

  "But the old farts' home is straight ahead."

  "Will you listen to me and make a left? I'm the brains, remember?"

  "Conceited much?" I slowed down to make the turn without hitting anything.

  "I don't know what Zoey sees in you."

  "It's my sharp wit and massive biceps."

  "Pull in here, lover boy." Sunny pointed to the CVS.

  "But there's a center divider. I'll make a U-turn at the next light."

  "No time." And, yes, you guessed it, she reached over and snatched the steering wheel again. The car jumped over the center divider. It sounded like something broke loose when we landed. We headed right for the store, but missed the driveway. I tried to swerve to the right, but the car hydroplaned and kept right on going. I spun the steering wheel around, but the Volvo still continued to slide.

  The car smacked into the curb and popped over it. We skidded past the sidewalk and into a fire hydrant.

  BANG!

  It popped right off. At least it slowed us down.

  The car came to a stop right in front of the store's entrance. Water from the busted hydrant shot up thirty or forty feet, like some sorta upside-down waterfall.

  "Come on, Zack. We're running out of time." We rushed inside.

  "Dude, what happened out there?" The cashier looked as if he'd recently stuck his head in a beehive. He was about nineteen and probably headed for a lifelong career working behind counters.

  "Must be raining really hard," Sunny said. "Zack, go get every umbrella you can find. Oh, and get an electric toothbrush too—a really expensive one."

  "I hardly think dental hygiene is a priority right now."

  "Just get it. I'll explain later."

  "How are we going to pay for this?"

  "I'll take care of that."

  "Do you have a credit card?"

  "No, something much more valuable: my intellect. Now hurry."

  "Oh, brother." I ran down an aisle.

  Tons of umbrellas were for sale. From the next aisle over, I grabbed the largest backpack I could find. I picked mostly small umbrellas, the kind that automatically popped up. I took the cover off each one as I stuffed it in the backpack. I must have got over three dozen. Before I left, I picked up a couple really big ones with pointed metal tips. The backpack had a water bottle holder on each side, and I stuck the big umbrellas in those.

  On my way back, I ran down the dental care aisle, took a Sonic Care 8000DX and some toothpaste. I had no idea what this stuff was for, but I was far more curious how we were going to pay for everything.

  When I got to the register, Sunny was talking to the cashier.

  "So, I've signed an IOU with my parents’ names and address. You can notarize it here, and I'll pay for this stuff." She pointed at my backpack. "Tomorrow."

  "Umm. I'm sorry, we don't take IOUs." The cashier picked dangerously at one of his pimples.

  "Listen, I'm going to pay, just tomorrow."

  "Store policy is to persecute all shoplifters to the faithful accent of the law."

  "That's a pretty tough policy." I tried not to smirk.

  "I am not a shoplifter." Sunny’s face turned a deep shade of red. "To commit a crime requires intent. Since I've clearly stated that I plan to pay for this merchandise, I am not committing a crime."

  "Ummm..." The guy scratched the side of his head. I hoped he didn't accidentally pop
one of those zits.

  "The Common Law precept Actus Reus requires three elements to establish the Justification Defense. One, the need must be great. Two, the need must be imminent. And three, the potential for harm must be greater than the offence. Since we are trying to save our friend from being devoured by aliens, we clearly meet all three criteria and are therefore entitled to procure these supplies without immediate payment," she said all in one big breath.

  "Ummm, okay?" He had a blank zombie-like gaze on his face. I think she'd overloaded his brain.

  She didn't say anything else, just clasped my arm, and we ran out.

  We hopped in the station wagon and took off toward the Shady Grave Retirement Home. "I can't believe we stole all that stuff."

  "We didn't steal anything. Didn't you hear what I said in there?"

  "Well, I heard the words."

  I didn't bother driving to the entrance of the retirement place. The car wasn't steering very well anyway, so I hopped over the curb, again.

  "There they are." Sunny pointed to the hills off behind the home. The flying saucers zoomed a long way off in the distance, but I knew they could cover that ground in a few seconds.

  Chapter 9 – Grandpa Kicks Some Butt

  "No time to stop and ask directions." I pulled up on the grass and plowed around the building.

  A path led around back. I figured it'd take us to where all the old fogies grazed. A few were in our way, but the car wasn't really in any condition to steer around them.

  "Those senior citizens can really move," I said. "Did you see how high that old lady jumped?"

  Sure enough, about fifty old folks sat in the rain at tables covered with big umbrellas. They seemed pretty miserable. The staff stood inside watching through the windows, like witnesses waiting for an execution. I was sure they'd locked the old geezers outside.

  I realized it might be nice to give them someplace to hide. I plowed the car right into the two main glass doors, sending glass and shrapnel everywhere, before backing up and jumping out.