Zombiekins 2(22)

They lifted chairs off the pile as fast as they could. Soon Zombiekins was just a few steps away.

Stump!—scri-i-i-i-i-itch . . .

“It’s just a few steps away!” Stanley shrieked.

“Don’t panic!” Miranda said in a panicky voice, as she pushed the sofa aside and swung the door open—





“Now panic?” asked Stanley.

“Okay,” Miranda muttered in shock. “I guess now you may as well go ahead and panic. . . .”





32



FOR ONE TENSE MOMENT, STANLEY AND MIRANDA stared out at the mob staring in at them. Then, slowly, a flicker of understanding spread through the crowd—and with a sudden roar, all the zombies surged forward at once!

Miranda tried to slam the door, but it caught with a loud crunch of bone—a zombie at the front had jammed its arm in the crack!

“Quick,” Miranda gasped, leaning into the door with all her might, “push the sofa back!”

Stanley did, then together they quickly piled the stacks of vacation catalogues and unmarked homework back on top. But already more grasping arms were writhing over the threshold, and Stanley and Miranda could see it was only a matter of time before their barricade gave way . . . .





Then their barricade gave way.

There was a mighty push from the other side and the door flung open, toppling the sofa and sending holiday catalogues and unmarked math tests fluttering all over the room.

Stanley and Miranda backed away in helpless terror. There was nothing between them and the mob of bloodthirsty zombies now . . . .

Except that all the zombies tried to push through the doorway at once and got stuck.

It wasn’t long, though, before they started squeezing one by one into the room. Soon they were closing in around Stanley and Miranda on all sides. Their eyes were blank and clouded over, their skin was gray and clammy—and, collectively, they really could’ve used a breath mint.

Backed against the far wall, Stanley and Miranda looked around desperately for some weapon to fend the zombies off with. But there was nothing. Then Miranda’s glance fell on the piece of unwrapped taffy Stanley was still holding and a strange look came into her eye.

“Hey, what if . . .” she muttered to herself, as if an idea had just occurred to her. “Quick, Stanley, give me your knapsack!”

Stanley passed it to her, thinking she was going to swing it at the zombies. Instead, she plunged her hand inside and brought out a handful of the Widow’s taffy.





“Try throwing this at them,” she said, tossing the knapsack back. “I have a hunch it might slow them down....”

She wound up and hit the first zombie square between the eyes. The zombie didn’t even flinch, and the candy bounced harmlessly to the floor.

Stanley thought Miranda was crazy, but she wouldn’t give up. She just kept pelting the oncoming hordes with taffy, hitting one zombie after another.

Meanwhile, the first zombie stopped and stared at the taffy lying at its feet. Slowly, he bent forward, picked it up, and tore the wrapper off with clumsy fingers. He stood for a moment gawking at the hard brown lump—then popped it into his mouth.

There was a crack and crunch of breaking teeth as the zombie chewed. . . .

And chewww-wwwed . . .





And chewww-wwww-wwww-www-wwwwed . . .

Miranda was right—the Widow’s taffy was slowing him down!

All around the room, other zombies had stopped to pounce on the candy. Some started fighting over it, bashing and choking each other for a piece.

Whatever Miranda’s plan was, Stanley thought, it looked like it was working—at least for the moment.

He dug some more taffy out of his knapsack and started flinging the stuff like mad along with her.

But then, from out of the crowd of wrangling-strangling-biting-fighting-smashing-bashing zombies came Zombiekins itself, staggering toward them . . . .

Stanley and Miranda shrank back in terror.





“Oh, no!” Miranda said. “Just when it looked like we might make it after all. . . .”

The note of hopelessness in her voice gave Stanley a chill. Miranda was the one who always bailed them out of jams—if she was giving up, they were done for.

At least, that was the first thought to pass through Stanley’s mind. But the next moment, it was as if a strange change came over him. Maybe it was that everything he had been through that day had stirred something unsuspected deep inside him. Or maybe it was just that even a boy like Stanley can be pushed only so far.

But whatever it was, Stanley puffed his chest out in a superhero pose and stepped out from behind Miranda.

“Cover me,” he said, his voice straining a little from the effort of flexing his chest. “I’m going to catch it in my knapsack.”