Zombie Town Read Free Page A

terror.
    Another zombie waited for us at the top of the aisle.
    A zombie with a dark hole where its nose should have been.
    A third one crawled over the seats on the right, grabbing at the cushions with blackened fingernails.
    “No. No.” Karen gasped.
    “The movie!” I cried. “All three of them escaped from the movie!”
    Karen grabbed my arm. “Count again, Mike,” she whispered.
    I turned to see a fourth zombie with bloodshot eyes crawl across the seats on the left. A human hand dangled from its teeth.
    Loud, hungry moans echoed from behind us. We spun around and gasped.
    The zombie with the missing eye stood at the front of the stage.
    But it wasn’t alone anymore.
    At least ten more zombies had joined it.
    Ten more hungry zombies, I thought, my mind spinning in terror. Zombies who need human flesh to stay alive.
    Our flesh!
    We bolted to the first exit door and rammed our shoulders against it.
    Still locked.
    We flew up the side aisle to the back door.
    It still wouldn’t open.
    “Unnh! Unnnnh!” The zombies jumped down from the stage. They came after us, slithering, groaning, staggering.
    It doesn’t matter how slow they are, I realized. We can’t escape. We can run around in here for hours, but they’ll still catch us.
    I stared in horror at the hand—someone’s hand!—hanging from the zombie’s mouth.
    They’ll catch us, I knew.
    And then they’ll eat us.

There has to be another way out of here, I thought desperately. As I glanced all around, I suddenly remembered.
    “The balcony!” I shouted. “Come on!”
    I grabbed Karen’s hand and pulled her along until we found the balcony stairs. We stumbled up the steps to the very top.
    Black velvet curtains covered the back wall.
    Just curtains. No door.
    Below us, the zombies moaned and wailed.
    I spun around and peered down. I could see them lumbering toward the balcony stairs. Then they disappeared from sight.
    A couple of seconds passed. Then I heard their footsteps. Heavy. Thudding. Climbing up the steps.
    Karen yanked on my sleeve. “The projection booth!”
    We scurried along the back wall to the little glass-fronted booth. I grabbed hold of the door handle and turned it.
    The handle broke off.
    I heard the zombies climbing. Getting closer. Moaning for food. Human food.
    I rammed my shoulder against the door. The door rattled and shook, but it didn’t open.
    Karen screamed. I stumbled back and fell to the floor. She screamed again, pointing.
    A zombie stood at the top of the stairs. Its lips hung open. As it grinned at us, I could see the fuzzy black mold that covered its teeth.
    More zombies crowded behind it. They gazed at us hungrily, grunting, sniffing.
    Then they began to stagger toward us.
    “Oh, man, oh, man!” My legs turned to mush. My whole body shook. “There’s no place to go! We’re cornered!”
    “Trapped…” Karen muttered. “We’re trapped…”

The zombies pressed forward. Lurching stiffly, their hungry eyes locked on us. Their sick, sour smell surrounded us. They groaned and grunted, deep, throaty moans of the living dead.
    Panic choked my throat. My hands were squeezed into tight fists. I glanced down and saw that I still had the door handle in my hand.
    I don’t know where I got the courage. I didn’t even think about it. It just sort of happened.
    As the one with the moldy teeth drew closer, I swung my arm back—and flung the door handle into his face.
    The handle made a sick, squishy sound as it hit. A piece of green skin ripped off.
    “Yaiiii!” The zombie let out a squeal and grabbed his torn cheek.
    The others joined in, howling in anger, their bodies moving excitedly up and down like puppets.
    “What did you do?” Karen shrieked. “You—you made them even angrier!”
    “What difference does it make?” I yelled. “They’re going to get us anyway!”
    The snarling, howling zombies staggered closer.
    Karen and I stepped back. We hit the back wall. Nowhere to run.
    This is it! I thought in