Zombiekins 2(18)

Ouch! That smarted. Stanley shimmied forward, more carefully this time. But to his surprise the noise rang out again, like some strange, delayed echo: thunk!

And then again: thunk!

“Weird,” Stanley mumbled, crawling further under.

Above him, there was a loud skkkkrrrrrrrkkkkk like claws scratching on metal . . . then a creeeeeakkk like the lid of a dumpster opening . . . .

“Uhhh, Stanley . . .” said Miranda.

“Hold on,” Stanley replied, stretching as far as he could. “I’ve—almost—”





“Stanley, you really ought to—”

But Stanley didn’t catch the rest of her remark because it was drowned out by a low, vowelless growl: “Mngrbrgngnlll . . . ”

“Got it!” Stanley announced triumphantly, backing out from under the dumpster and rising to his feet. He dusted off his shirtfront and proudly held out the dirt-covered ball.

But Miranda didn’t even give it a glance. She was staring right past Stanley, her eyes wide with terror and fixed on something just over his shoulder . . . .

Behind him, there was another growl: “Mngrbrgngnlll . . .”

This time Stanley started to turn around . . . .

Rising slowly from the dumpster behind him was Knuckles. Pale as a corpse, with cold dead eyes and wild matted hair, drooling garbage juice down his chin, he looked even more like a monster than usual.





When Knuckles recognized Stanley, his zombie eyes flashed with rage—or maybe it was hunger. He spat out a mouthful of garbage and growled again, more distinctly: “Mnaarrhaarbwragnagnylll. . . .” Then, slowly and awkwardly, Knuckles started climbing out of the dumpster.

Too scared to run, Stanley could only watch in horror as Knuckles hoisted himself over the side of the dumpster with stiff, clumsy movements—then lost his balance—teetered on the edge—and fell headfirst on top of Stanley!





28



“GET HIM OFF ME!” STANLEY BEGGED MIRANDA. “HE’S trying to kill me!”





Actually, Knuckles was sprawled motionless on his back on top of Stanley as though the fall had stunned him. But when Stanley started to squirm out from under him, Knuckles grabbed Stanley’s leg.

“Don’t let him intimidate you, Stanley,” Miranda said. “This is your chance to stand up to him!”

But Stanley was in no position to stand up to anyone at that particular moment because Knuckles was dangling him off the ground by an ankle.

“Go on, Stanley, show him he can’t push you around,” Miranda urged as Knuckles pushed Stanley around, then pummeled him about, then pingponged him to and fro.

“Helllllllllp!” Stanley pleaded as Knuckles twirled him around and around. “Doooo somethinggggg!”

Miranda just shook her head.

“Okay,” she said in a disappointed voice. “Keep him busy till I get back.”

So Stanley kept Knuckles busy. First he seized hold of Knuckles’ hand with his neck. Then he pounded Knuckles in the fist with his face. Then he bashed Knuckles in the knee with the side of his head.

Stanley was just lying down on the pavement to strike Knuckles sharply and repeatedly in the foot with his stomach when Miranda reappeared with a wooden baseball bat.

“What are you wait-ait-aiting for-or-or?” Stanley pleaded as Knuckles shook him upside down like someone trying to squeeze the last drop out of a ketchup bottle. “Hit him-im-im!”

“No, Stanley,” Miranda said. “You have to be the one to do it. He’ll never leave you alone until you show him you can stick up for yourself.”





Knuckles flipped Stanley high in the air like a coin and Stanley slammed down on the pavement on his back. Taffy spilled from his backpack like a splatter of guts.

“You’ll thank me for this later,” Miranda insisted. “That is, unless. . . .”

She trailed off without finishing, and with a little shrug, threw the bat to Stanley.

Before Knuckles could pick him up for another toss, Stanley sprang to his feet and backed away with it cocked over his shoulder.

“Stay back,” Stanley warned. “I mean it.”

Knuckles just kept staggering toward him, snarling and drooling and snapping his jaws in hungry chomping motions.

“Aim for the head,” said Miranda. “It’s the only way to stop a zombie.”

Stanley’s fingers tightened around the bat handle....





“Do it, Stanley,” Miranda urged. “He’s not Knuckles anymore. . . .”

But Stanley just let the bat fall to his side. He couldn’t do it.

And the next moment, Knuckles grabbed Stanley around the neck and started pulling him closer with his mouth stretched wide....

“Don’t let him bite you!” Miranda shouted. “You’ll be turned into a zombie!”