Zombie Kong Read Free Page B

the entire world seemed to fade out of focus. The man’s hard-looking face and undersized eyes grew faint. The room darkened. The air thinned. She would soon pass out.
    The man said, “Did you see what happened? You should have done something! I know you! You’re the reason things are like this!”
    “I don’t––”
    There was a scream––
    Jake was screaming, standing on the other side of the counter with his eyes the size of beer coasters and his mouth wide open.
    Beyond the screams, Candice could hear the clatter of gunfire mingled with the sound of the beast’s roar. Little stars began appearing in the darkness of her eyes. Jake’s words of protest shrank into mumbles. Her body felt weak, worse than the moment before. She wanted to tell Jake to get away from the man, not to worry about the gunfire or the monster on the street. She wanted to tell him that things would be okay. But things might not be okay. What would happen to Jake if the man successfully choked her to death? And… was that his objective? Did he plan on killing her because of the things that were happening outside, or stranger yet, over a glass of chocolate milk? Really? Why would anyone want to do a thing like that? Comprehending the situation was like trying to inhale a baseball.
    The knife. She needed the knife.
    Wrong.
    There were two knives, neither one close enough to grab. What was that other thing she was trying to snag from the counter, a fork?
    No… a spoon . A long-handled spoon.
    She whacked the counter with the palm of her hand and shifted her body’s weight. The man tumbled back a step and for a moment his grip weakened. Then his teeth pressed together and his face seemed to age a dozen years. He was squeezing hard now, as if he was trying to make her head pop from her neck.
    Candice wrapped her fingers around the oval end of the spoon and lifted it from the counter. She had it. She had a weapon. The handle end of the spoon seemed like the world’s dullest blade but that was okay. It wasn’t meant for carving a Christmas turkey at the White House; it was meant for serving up a big old pile of whoop-ass right here in The Lunch Room.
    Putting smiles on faces since 1968!
    As she lifted the weapon she noticed the man’s nametag. It said: KIRBY.
    A muffled grunt came. She thought–– Well, Kirby... I’ve got a little somethin’ for ya–– and a second later she slammed the spoon into the man’s face, just below his temple. She could only assume it passed through his nasal cavity, and bone, and whatever muscles were in that general area.
    The man fell away from her––stumbling, tripping, staggering like a drunken barfly at closing time. Mouth opening and closing, nose running; his eyes glossed over. And with that came the screams, and the blood, and a look that was one part shock, one part terror, and three parts pain.
    Coughing. Coughing. Candice was free of his grip and coughing… but she was breathing again, and not a moment too soon. With less than an athlete’s agility, she snailed her way over the counter, took Jake by the hand, and made for the door.
    “You corpse-fucker!” Kirby managed to shriek, pivoting towards her with blood parading down his face. His hands clenched together… again, and again. His fingernails were biting his palms.
    Once Candice and Jake were outside, they felt the ground shake beneath them, as if a miniature earthquake were taking place.
    It was no earthquake, they soon realized. But it was something.
    Something big.
    Candice saw it first: Zombie Kong.
    The monster was less than ten feet away.
    And looking directly at the boy.
     

 
     
    DALE
     
    Once I was inside the small intestine, I thought I was going to die.
    If you can imagine yourself wrapped head-to-toe in cold, rancid deli meat, you might be able to comprehend that moment of my life. Kong’s intestine was clinging to my body like a wetsuit made of liver. There was no free space––none, aside from a little bit of room