“You better not have gotten us lost, my little dorkling,” said Zoe.
“Almost there,” Rice said, glancing down at the map.
As the Winnebago climbed the upward slope of the road, an enormous catsup bottle rose majestically out of the not-too-distant foliage.
“Whoaaaa,” Rice said slack-jawed. “There it is!”
“What the heck is that?” Ozzie hit the brakes gently, and they came to a stop on the lip of the hill.
“That, my friend,” Rice revealed, “is the World’s Largest Catsup Bottle.”
Madison and Zoe gazed through the slats in the window blinds. “I think he meant ‘What the heck are we doing here?’”
“Okay, A, it’s awesome,” Rice said. “And B, my Uncle Ben is from around here, and he told me once that a man hasn’t lived until he’s seen the Catsup Bottle firsthand.”
“C,” Madison said, “you’re a huge weirdo.”
Rice ignored her snide remark. “Do you think it’s really filled with catsup?”
“That would be crazy,” said Zack. “Where would they get it all?”
“It’s a water tower, dorkbrains.” Zoe sighed.
“Come on, let’s go check it out,” Ozzie looked back at the girls. “You comin’?”
Madison blew on her nails. “I think we’ll pass.”
“Suit yourselves,” Rice said and jumped down to the pavement.
The boys got out and took turns looking through Ozzie’s binoculars at the giant catsup bottle standing tall against the cloud-curtained sky.
Rice was mesmerized.
A sharp wind whisked in their faces, and a dark menacing cloudbank rumbled. The late morning sky tinged a greenish color. A chilly chill shot down Zack’s spine.
“Guys,” Ozzie said, as the clouds began to swirl. “Back to the RV!”
A bolt of lightning cracked the sky, and the thundering cloudbank hatched a funnel-shaped vortex.
“Tornado!” Zack, Rice, and Ozzie all jinxed each other, then darted back to the Winnebago. Zack slammed the door shut and peered through the blinds.
The twister touched down, ripping through a nearby pasture.
The swirling pillar of black wind was headed straight toward them, whipping up zombies in a slow-motion swirl.
“We have to find a basement,” Rice said.
“You’re right,” Zack agreed. “People always go in basements.”
“What people?” Madison asked, trying to soothe her very freaked-out puppy.
“Movie people,” Rice said.
Through the windshield, Ozzie surveyed the landscape with the binoculars. “Down there!” He pointed his finger toward the base of the hill.
“A basement?” Zack took the binoculars from Ozzie. At the end of the road was a short tunnel running under a railway overpass. “Let’s go!” Zack yelled.
Zoe jumped behind the wheel and started the RV. Buckets of hail and sleet pelted the roof of the Winnebago as she zoomed down the slickening black asphalt.
Phlooosshhhhhhhhhh!
They whizzed around a bend, and Zoe floored the pedal, swerving around a green-and-yellow tractor that floated through the air. Splintered planks of wood and cinder blocks soared around in the zero-gravity wind.
Zoe steered clear of a huge piece of sheet metal rattling across the street, and the Winnebago shot under the overpass. She slammed on the brakes and shut off the engine. The daylight darkened in the eye of the storm as the whirlwind spun over the tunnel. Zoe flipped on the headlights.
The zombified townsfolk flew in from both sides, torpedoing through the air. A crankle-faced farmer in denim overalls clung upside down to the windshield, leaving a sludgy smear as it pinwheeled on the glass and flew over the roof.
“Aaaack!” Madison squealed. A mutilated arm smashed through the window above the sink, groping and snatching blindly.
The zombie wedged its mangled head in, cracking the window frame. Its festering skin scraped off in hideous gray clumps on the jagged glass.
Rice screamed like a girl in a horror movie.
Zack held one of Ozzie’s crutches like a bayonet and jabbed the shrieking fiend in the face until it popped out of the window.
“Zoe, start the engine!” Ozzie shouted while more zombies belted into the side panels, denting the roof and busting up the windows.
But then the wind abated, and the airborne zombies dropped to the pavement around the RV. The wind-tunnel zombies rose off the road, grunting like a hungry pack of wild simians, and converged on the Winnebago.
“It won’t start!” Zoe screamed, cranking the key. The engine sputtered over like a broken record and finally wheezed out.
Just then, a massive cracking sound pierced the air.
“What the heck was that?” asked Zack.
Ahead of them, through the tunnel’s exit, something toppled—something big—and within seconds, a tide of water rushed under the overpass and swept the zombie horde away.
“Now,” said Zack. “Go!”
Zoe turned the key again and pumped the accelerator. The engine revved. She hit the gas, and they zoomed out of the tunnel away from the zombies beached on the asphalt. They swerved through the demolished wreckage of the World’s Largest Catsup Bottle and watched the tornado dissipate into thin air.
“Hey, guys,” Zack said once they were back on the highway. “No more pit stops, okay?” No one answered him. He was exhausted. They all were. Zack closed his eyes and fell abruptly asleep.
CHAPTER
“Almost there, Mad!” Zack woke up to the sound of his sister’s voice. Bewildered and groggy, he looked at the time. The digital clock on the dashboard glowed faintly in the growing dark: 7:23 P.M.
“Hey there, Mr. Sleepyhead,” said Zoe.
“Where are we almost?” Zack asked.
“The Mall of America,” she said matter-of-factly.
“We’ve lost enough time already!” Zack said. “We’re not going to a stupid mall.”
“We’re not going to a stupid mall,” she agreed. “We’re going to an awesome mall!”
“No, we’re not,” Zack whined.
“Listen, little bro,” Zoe cocked her head to the side and gave him a look that meant business. “I’ve been driving for the past nine hours, and we’ll go where I say we’ll go. Capische?”
“But we’re supposed to be going straight to Montana,” Zack pleaded. “I thought we all agreed.”
“Zip it, Zacky-poo,” said Zoe.
“Zoe, Mom and Dad’s eyeballs could be falling out right now, and all you care about is going shopping? Where’s Rice?”
“Taking a shower,” Madison informed him.
Over the roar of the motor, Zack could hear his buddy whistling in the bathroom. The sun’ll come out to-morrow…
“Does he know we’re going to the Mall of America?”
“Are you kidding?” Zoe answered. “It was his idea.”
“Rice!” Zack hollered, but his buddy kept on whistling away.
“OMG, Zo,” Madison exclaimed. “I can’t wait to get out of these clothes. I’ve been wearing the same thing since, like, forever ago.”
“I know,” Zoe said. “It’s, like, completely horrifying.”
“Wait a sec…” Zack kept up his protest. “Ozzie?”
Ozzie’s arm was hanging off the top bunk. He snored loudly, snoozing deeply. Zack grunted. The girls had officially taken over.
Rice waltzed out of the Winnebago bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and another one draped over his shoulders. “It’s cool, buddy,” he said to Zack. “If we’re going to battle Duplessis and his army of ghouls, we’re gonna need some serious equipment upgrades.”
“Yeah, Zack,” Madison added. “And we’ll all get clean clothes and new shoes and makeup and maybe even Jamba Juices.”
“Fine!” Zack crossed his arms over his chest. He hated going to malls.
Just then Zoe caught a glimpse of Rice in the rearview. “Ew. Put a shirt on.”
&nbs
p; A short while later, the Winnebago turned into the parking lot of the Mall of America. Outside the main entrance, Zoe eased off the accelerator and killed the engine. They left the RV and strolled to the entrance of the gargantuan shopping center.
The glass doors slid open automatically, and a horrific stench seeped out in a warm puff, like air-conditioning on a hot day. The mall was brightly lit, sickeningly fluorescent. The stores flanking either side of the arcade were completely demolished—glass smashed, clothing racks toppled, shelving units torn down and products strewn everywhere. Except for that and the phlegm-gurgling moan of the undead reverberating through the whole place, it looked like a typical shopping day: people milling around zombielike from store to store.
Something scuttled by their feet. Zack squinted at the shapeless form undulating quickly across the linoleum.
“Ah!” Madison shrieked. Suddenly a slime-soaked leopard-skin coat leaped off the ground like a rabid flying squirrel and latched onto her face, muffling her horrified yowl. She pulled the zombified fur coat off her face and flung it to the floor.
Twinkles yapped, but not at the furrier’s nightmare. Walking on its fingertips, a severed hand sniffed around caninelike with its middle finger. Twinkles bared his teeth and purred with a vicious growl.
“Come on, boy!” Zack called to the pup, and Twinkles followed along.
An undead hobo lady wearing a long coat and wool cap took a painful step forward as the kids passed her by. She cocked her head, mewling like a dumb cat, then bared her gnarly rotten teeth and hissed.
As they crept deeper through the galleria, they came to a roller coaster corkscrewing up the four-story atrium at the center of the complex.
“No way we’re waiting in this line!” Madison crossed her arms and glared at the undead ranks rampaging behind the gates of the amusement park.
Zombie parents swayed, baby-stepping around like giant toddlers. Their zombie rug rats crawled about on all fours, barking and snarling. There were zombies climbing up the Ferris wheel and flying off the tilt-a-whirl into the branches of the indoor trees that sprouted out of the linoleum floor.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, guys,” Zack said, gazing around. “Let’s go. We can pick up stuff somewhere else.”
“No, wait,” Madison said. “There are no zombies up there!” She pointed above them to the second floor, which appeared to be uninfested.
“We’ve got to get up there!” Zoe ran to the mall directory and checked the map. “That way!” She pointed down a corridor where a dense pack of five-foot-tall zombies blocked their way. A creepy-eyed army of undead clones trudged steadily toward them: pigtailed zweenybopper Children of the Damned.
“Where did the Jonas Brothers fan club come from?” Ozzie gulped.
“More like the Groanas Brothers,” Rice quipped.
The undead preteens stamped forward. More zombies started to close in as if guided by radar, and the five of them retreated to the alcove by the restrooms. Zack glanced around the corner and spotted a cardboard cutout of Justin Bieber standing outside a record store. “I have an idea.” He sprinted over to the life-size Bieber and placed it away from where they needed to go.
“Zack,” Rice called in a whisper. “Get back here, what are you doing?”
Zack hid behind the cardboard Bieber cutout and, despite his embarrassment, launched into his finest rendition of the pop singer’s hit song, “Baby.”
The zweenyboppers twizzled their necks toward the sound of Zack’s sweet falsetto voice. “Baby, baby, baby, oh!”
The Bieber-maniacs stampeded toward Zack’s singing. He jumped out from behind the life-size cutout and sprinted around the pack of zombie girls as they tore the pop-star decoy to bits.
“Wow, Zack,” Rice ribbed him. “Didn’t know you were such a fan of the Biebs.”
Zack shrugged, and they made a break down the hallway, away from the undead swarm. They hung a right by a jewelry kiosk and stopped in front of the elevators. Madison hit the call button and the doors opened. Inside the car lift, Zoe pressed the button for the fourth floor. Zack pressed the one for level two.
“What are you doing?” Zoe asked him.
“We’re going to the sporting goods store.”
“Well, we’re going to Bloomingdale’s.” Madison hooked arms with Zoe.
“That’s right, dweebo,” said Zoe.
“Fine,” Zack said. “We’ll meet right here in one hour.”
“Are you kidding me?” Madison whined. “That’s barely enough time to pick out a pair of shoes. “
The doors opened again, and the boys got out on the second floor.
Twinkles trotted forward.
“Hey, look,” said Rice. “He wants to come with the boys.”
“Twinkles, stay!” Madison ordered her pup. Twinkles stopped between the closing doors.
“Twinkles … come!” Zack called, slapping his knee.
“Stay!” Madison commanded.
“Twinkles, come to the one you love best!” Zack called again.
“Twinkles does not love you best.” Madison narrowed her eyes. “Twinkles, stay!”
“Come on, boy!” Ozzie urged the confused puppy.
“Guys, knock it off!” demanded Zoe. “Twinkles is coming with us.” The doors started to close, and Twinkles hopped back in the elevator.
“Ha!” Madison scooped up her pup.
“One hour.” Zack stuck his arm between the doors, and they reopened. “Seriously.”
“We’ll think about it,” Zoe said, hitting the button repeatedly. “Seriously.”
The elevator shut, and the boys turned to look at one another.
Rice stood between Zack and Ozzie and clasped both of their shoulders. “I’m glad we’re dudes,” he said.
“Seriously,” Ozzie and Zack said together, and they walked off through the empty second level. Clear and zombie-free.
CHAPTER
The boys strolled inside the sporting goods store and checked out the footwear on the wall of sneakers. They picked out some fresh kicks and new gear from the clothes racks: T-shirts, windpants, sweatshirts, and blessedly clean socks.
“What can I make with you?” Rice stretched a long tube sock end to end, eyeing a display bin full of baseballs. He walked over and dropped three of the balls into the toe of the soccer sock. He tied off the end with a knot and swung the makeshift bludgeon slowly. “Cool!” He smiled.
“Nice, Rice,” Ozzie said. “Let me show you something.” He grabbed his new pupil by the wrist and adjusted his grip.
“Yes, sensei.” Rice bowed respectfully to Ozzie as the lesson began.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Zack grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it through the aisles. The shelves were stacked high with everything from volleyballs to fishing poles. He picked out a couple of baseball bats, a few lacrosse sticks, and a bunch of unstrung tennis rackets. He went on tipping items into the belly of the cart, anything that looked useful: boxing gloves, lacrosse gear, elbow pads, and football helmets. Before he knew it, the cart was almost full.
“Come on, Zack,” Ozzie called over.
“We got to hit up a couple more stores,” said Rice. “I want to pick up a little TV for the Winnie and get a new iPhone.”
Out in the mall corridor, they peered over the railing into the pit of zombies stumbling around below. On the first level, all the escalators were running downward, confining the undead savages to the ground floor.
“Let’s keep moving,” Zack said over the roar of the zombie moans.
When they reached the next storefront, the lights were off. Zack squinted through the metal pull-down grate, when a zombie hand slapped the inside door with a loud thump, breaking the silence. Zack flinched and peered in again. The undead palm had smeared a handprint down the interior glass. The store was jam-packed with undead mall-goers, contorted bodies crammed together like a subway car at rush hour. The zombies writhed like a slow-motion mosh pit.
“Bummer, man,” Za
ck said to Rice. “It’s all filled up with zombies.”
Ozzie peered over the railing again at the living dead moving too slowly to make any progress up the escalator treadmill.
“I don’t get it,” Zack said. “How come there’s only zombies down there and locked in the stores?”
Ozzie gazed into the distance. “Someone else is here.”
“Yeah, a butt-load of zombies,” Rice said.
“No, I mean somebody with a brain,” Ozzie continued. “This looks like a tactical sweep and lockdown, a highly organized corral-and-capture.”
Rice nodded. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”
Sure you were, Zack thought.
All of a sudden, an electric zoom sounded out of nowhere. Zack whipped his head around toward the noise. Two zombie security guards zipped straight toward them on Segways.
“Ahhh! Get down.” Zack hit the deck as the undead mall cops leaped off their scooters, tackling Rice and Ozzie to the floor.
“Hey!” Rice ripped off the security guard’s black clip-on tie. “You’re not even a real cop!”
Zack grabbed one of the tennis rackets and brought it down over the zombie’s head, collaring it around the neck. He yanked back hard and dragged the zombie off Rice before the undead mall cop could bite down on his best friend. The zombie flailed its arm like a club, grazing Zack’s chin. It whirled around so they were nose-to-nose and sneezed, blasting Zack right in the face with infectious snot. Zack winced.
The undead security guard roared and twisted its torso, then body-slammed Zack onto the linoleum floor. The zombie rose to its feet and seized Zack by the ankle, hoisting him upside-down off the floor. “Yow!” Zack kicked his leg to break free, but the mall cop’s grip was too firm. The zombie was mere inches away from nibbling Zack’s Achilles tendon. “Help!” Zack yelled.
“I gotcha, buddy!” Rice picked up the soccer sock stuffed with baseballs from the cart, took a few running steps, and clobbered the zombie with one deft crack of his wrist. The zombie keeled over, and Zack fell on his head next to the unconscious goon lying beside him.
Sludgment Day Page 4