The Saga Of Tom Stinson (Book 1): Summer School Zombocalypse (4 page)

A tangled hose burst, shooting water in a high arc across the schoolyard. The trio bolted past the zombie remnants of Tom’s class on the way to the bike racks, splashing through newly created mud. A few feet past where Miles had fought the zombies, they screeched to a halt.

A group of teachers and rescue zombies horse-shoed them, drooling and gnashing their pus covered fangs. Tom held his arms out to protect the twins. They knew what was going to happen; they had seen.

Gunfire thundered from behind. As zombie heads exploded around them, Tom ducked and pulled the twins down for cover as the bodies started to fall.

The thick smell of gun smoke hung in the air.

“
Tom!” a familiar voice yelled to him. It was the pimple-faced kid from his class.

“
You’re alive!” Tom said.

The pimple-faced kid smiled, the uncertainty and fear on his face in the classroom was gone. He held the gun up with confidence. “I found this. I saved you.”

“
Look out!” Tom yelled as group of infected ninth graders came at them from behind. Before the pimple-faced kid could react they were on him. The pimple-faced kid screamed. Two shots rang out as they dog-piled him to the ground. Tom stared blankly and held the twins.

Amidst the confusion another voice called to him. A kid held the science room trailer door open. “Here. Over here. Come now, while they are distracted. Hurry!”

Tom and the twins rushed through the door. The kid slammed the door shut. He slid a metal rod through the door’s push bar and stepped back.

The ninth graders crashed against the door like a rogue wave, and the trailer shuddered from the impact. The door flexed under their weight as they tried to get through. Their nails scratched on it like a dog wanting to come in from the cold.

“
We can hide here,” one twin said, with tears in his eyes. “We have to hide.”

“
Our dad will come get us,” the other said confidently.

“
Did you see what happened?” the science class kid asked. “That kid totally got wasted.”

“
Zombies happened,” Tom said, and turned his attention to the twins. “What are your names?”

“
I’m Winston,” one gulped and then pointed to the other. “He’s Emmett.”

Tom shook his head. “There’s no way I will be able to tell you guys apart.”

“
I broke my nose, he didn’t.” Winston wiped his eyes. “See, it’s bent this way.”

“
We can stay here until they go away.” Emmett tucked his shirt in. “Our Dad will come get us. This is the safest place right now.”

“
I thought I could hide and wait for my dad to come get me,” Tom held the twins’ gaze, “but I don’t think anyone can get to us. The zombies saw us. They’re not going to go away and they will get in here. They tore the door off my classroom.”

“
We can’t outrun them,” Emmett pulled at his shirt. “What if it’s like this everywhere? How are you going to get us home? We know it’s safe in here.”

“
You didn’t listen,” Tom said. “I don’t think we will be safe here for long. That door will give if they don’t stop. We have to go.”

“
My phone’s not working,” Winston said.

“
I’ll get you home,” Tom said. “We just need to get away from the school, and then it will be easy.”

“
My phone isn’t working either,” said the science class kid. “It’s like it’s jammed. See, no bars. I can’t even get on the school’s internet.”

He stepped into Tom’s view. “We need to know which way we can run to get out of here. When we get to my house, I have lots of guns.”

“
Your house?” Tom said. “We’re going to my house. My dad will be there he can drive us out of town.”

“
He has guns?” Winston said excitedly. “We need lot of guns. I vote we go to his house.”

“
This isn’t civics,” Tom said. “We’re not voting. Guns aren’t a good idea if we have to go across town to get them.”

“
We need to defend ourselves,” Winston replied.

“
The better choice is to stay here,” Emmett said.

“
Where’s your house?” Winston asked him.

“
By the fire station.”

“
That’s the opposite direction from our house,” Emmett said, “We stay here.”

Emmett and Winston argued. Tom and the kid stood on chairs and peered out through the small windows that ran high on the trailer wall. Seeing from the science unit gave Tom a new perspective. “I can’t believe we made it through all of that.”

“
I called out to those kids who ran past you,” the science class kid said.

The ninth grader zombies saw Tom in the window. They jumped at him but were unable to reach.

“
Keep down,” Tom pulled away from the window. “They’re everywhere. We’re trapped.”

“
That’s more a reason to stay,” Emmett said.

“
If we can distract them to this side of the trailer,” the science class kid said. “We can run out the fire door and get across the parking lot.”

A large file cabinet was blocking the door on that side. “That's insane,” Tom said. “Out the door and then what?”

The science room kid jumped down from the chair. He went to the teacher’s desk and picked up a fire extinguisher with wires and a small box duct taped to it. “We run for home and if there’s any trouble I use this.”

“
A fire extinguisher?” Tom tilted his head. “What good is that?”

The kid smiled, “Not just any fire extinguisher. It’s a bomb. My grandpa was in Iraq. This is an IED. He showed me how to make them.”

Winston grabbed for it. “A bomb? Let me see.”

“
Sit down. You don’t want to set this off in here,” the science class kid said.

Emmett slugged Winston in the arm. “Can’t you control yourself?”

The pounding on the building stopped. The ninth graders ran off. Tom went back to the window. By the flagpole, a group of parents moved toward the main entrance. They wore suits, yoga pants, and bathrobes. They had come for their kids.

Tom’s heart sank; in seconds, the parents were overrun but it was the distraction they needed. “This is our chance. We gotta go now.”

The kid pushed the filing cabinet over; it crashed loudly on the floor. “Hurry.”

Tom pulled the twins to the door. “Now. We gotta go.”

“
No,” Emmett said.

“
Get over it,” Winston replied. “We have a bomb.”

The science class kid strained as he tried to open the door. “It’s locked.”

Tom pushed on the door with him. It moved a little. “It’s not locked. Something is blocking it.”

Together they pushed. The door gave way a few inches and a scream rang out from the other side. “Wait. Wait.”

Startled, they jumped back expecting to see a flood of hands and arms come through the door jamb at them. When nothing happened Tom stuck his head out.

Miles lay on the ground. Tom was a shocked to see him, but glad that he wasn’t a zombie.

Miles clenched his teeth and pushed himself to the side. The door opened. Stepping out Tom saw that Miles’ leg was bent at a right angle in the wrong direction.

“
Let me help you,” Tom said, but Miles cut him off.

“
I’m stuck here, son,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere, so don’t worry about me. Just give this to my wife.” Miles handed Tom his wallet. “It has a ticket in it. I was going to tell her when I got home. Make sure she gets it, she’ll know what to do. And tell her I love her.”

Tom bent down to try and help Miles stand, but the science class kid grabbed him by the arm and pulled. “We won’t make it if we don’t go now.”

“
No, wait,” Tom said. “We can’t leave him. Help me get him inside.”

“
You can’t carry me,” said Miles, through clenched teeth. “Just get out of here and do what I told you.”

Tom walked away backwards. “I’m sorry, Miles.”

They rounded the corner of the science unit; the ninth graders had finished off the parents. They ran for the bike racks.

A ear-piercing howl spiked fear down their spines. The ninth graders and parents charged. The science room kid stopped. He pulled out a lighter and flicked it to light the bomb.

Tom could see the sparks from the flint in the gloom of the cloudy day. The kid’s hands trembled so much he could barely hold his lighter.

“
Forget about it, run,” Tom yelled. “We can make it.”

The science class kid’s attention flicked from his lighter to Tom and then back to the lighter. The flame caught.

“
Move!” Tom pushed.

It was too late, infected ninth graders and parents swarmed over the science class kid. He held tightly onto the bomb as he was dragged down.

A pulse of smoke rose around the kid. Tom shielded the twins. His eyes winced closed from the flash. The concussion from the bomb felt like a kick pushing him forward into the twins. White smoke filled the air, and Tom could barely see through it. Little bits of debris peppered his back and moistened the nape of his neck. They ran away through the cloud to the bike racks.

Tom pulled his bike free and got on, but the twins grabbed onto his arms.

“
Triple ride?”

Tom dropped the bike. “No. Run!”

Out on the street, the world had gone mad. It just wasn’t at his school, it was everywhere. Hastily packed cars raced past, up and down the tree lined street. A car hopped up on the sidewalk, narrowly missing an accident. Tom reacted without thought as it barreled towards them.

He pulled the twins away, and they all tumbled to the ground. As they fell, Tom caught a brief glimpse of the jaw-dropped expression on the driver’s face. By some miracle, the car passed within a inch of where they lay. It crashed into a parked car, sending the boxes and coolers that had been strapped onto the roof flying across the street.

The trio ran to the car hoping to find help. The door popped open, and the driver staggered out. He held his head, blood washed down his face. He didn’t appear infected, but they stopped short to be certain.

Tom waved his arms to get the driver’s attention and pleaded. “Help us. Help us.”

The dazed driver turned and stared at Tom too shaken to understand him. “Help my wife,” he uttered. “Please, she’s hurt.”

Over the driver’s shoulder, through the passenger window, Tom could see a woman slumped over the seat; her head was twisted in an unnatural way. He couldn’t help, but neither could he look away.

Another car came out of nowhere, silent except for the bucking of its wheels on the uneven pavement. It broke Tom’s tunnel vision. It was moving faster than he had ever seen a car go on a city street and was heading right toward the injured driver.

“
Look out!” Once again Tom pulled the twins out of the way.

They couldn’t believe their eyes. The car didn’t slow. It hit the driver, sandwiching him against his car. It was unbelievable. It was too much. Why didn’t he get out of the way?

They ran, not wanting to see any more. They raced along the street playing a real life game of zombie tag. From corner to corner, car to car, the madness was at every turn. They were forced to turn back several times to avoid being caught by the ever growing groups of zombies.

Crouching against a car to rest with their faces burning red with heat, they gasped for air.

Emmett’s whole body jittered. “I can’t keep this up.”

“
I can’t either,” Tom replied. “I know a place. We need to get to the U-Mart. We can hide there.”

“
That’s in the wrong direction for our house. We can’t go back.”

“
We have to,” Tom insisted. “It’s in the wrong direction for me too, but we need a safe place to rest.”

The twins looked over the car hood back the way they came. Winston choked, “Not through all that again.”

“
I promised that I would get you home, and I keep my promises. But you’ll be on your own if you don’t follow me. You can take your chances with me or not.”

The twins stared at him.

“
Well?” he demanded.

They nodded, choosing to go with him. Taking several deep breaths they readied themselves, then dashed for the U-Mart. Half a block seemed like a mile.

At the gas station, cars were abandoned at the pumps with doors and trunks left open. Nozzles hung from gas tanks. It was a sign of how fast everything had happened.

Tom pulled on the station’s door. It was locked. He fell back. His hands rose to the side of his head, his eyes widened. He was unable to speak. Failure ratcheted his gut and took what little strength he had left from his aching legs.

“
We should have stayed at school,” Emmett gasped for breath.

Tom shielded his eyes from the sun and peered in. The lights were out, and he couldn’t see any movement. He pounded on the door. “Someone has to be here. Hey, let us in!”

The twins whimpered loudly as a pack of zombies approached. There was nowhere to run. Tom turned to face the oncoming horde and prepared. The zombies were almost on them. He held on to the twins and hoped that their end would be quick.

The door opened and hands shot out, pulling them in by their shirt collars. “Get to the back of the store,” the attendant ordered.

He punched the security gate button and locked the door. A thick metal mesh gate rolled down over the doors and windows just as their pursuers slammed into the side of the building. Tom and the twins stared dumbfounded.

The store smelled of burnt microwave popcorn, gasoline, and sweat. A butterfly of spilled coffee stained the floor. A purse left on the counter at the cash register sat next to a backpack full of books, reminded the twins of their mom.

The attendant’s eyes bugged out of his head, and he rushed to them with his arms held out, pushing them into the back room. “Go. Hurry.”

He slammed the door shut and locked it. “How did you make it here?”

Tom stared blankly at the store room wall. He tried to sort it all out in his head. Everything had happened so fast. He needed to tell the attendant what happened, to talk it out.

“
How is it possible?” Tom started. “I mean, the plane crashed and then the pilot got out. And the big kid didn’t follow me.”

The attendant held his hand up, silencing Tom. “You have to be quiet. I don’t need every detail from the second you were born. If they hear us they will come in here.”

“
But,” Tom protested.

“
Just go sit over there,” the attendant said.

“
I forgot my lunch box,” Winston said.

The attendant threw him a pack of nuts from the shelf. “Quiet!”

Winston’s face paled. “The kid with the bomb.”

“
What?” Tom asked.

“
You can’t think about that,” Emmett said.

“
He was gone in a puff of smoke. Did it hurt?” Winston asked.

“
Winston!” Emmett said sharply.

“
Quiet. Listen up.” The attendant got up and pulled down a large box from a high shelf that said lost and found on it. He handed out backpacks. “Rest here for a while, but be quiet. Then fill these up. Fill them with food. Not candy, but the nuts, energy bars, and water. You’re going to need it.”

“
Why?” Emmett asked.

“
Because you can’t stay here. The noise you make will get me killed.”

“
Nuts give us a rash.”

“
Beggars kid, now shut up.”

“
We can’t go out there. Please let us stay, or we’ll be killed. We can use the phone and call our dad. He’ll come get us.”

“
You think so, do you?”

“
I don’t know what we are going to do?” Winston cried.

Tom snapped at the attendant. “Why did you let us in, when you didn’t let anyone else?”

The attendant’s eyes widened, he growled softly, “Quiet. Don’t be stupid, you’re kids.”

Tom took the packs and filled them as the attendant instructed, giving one to each twin. He sat down across the room from the attendant. He forced himself to stay still and rest. “Thanks for letting us in.”

The screech of low flying jets interrupted the attendants thoughts. Bottles rattled on the shelves. “That’s not normal,” he said.

A moment later a rapid succession of explosions that sounded like the Fourth of July fireworks shook the building.

“
That’s the weirdest thunder,” Winston said.

“
More like the air show I went to last summer,” Tom informed them. “Those were military jets and explosions. It must be really bad out there.”

“
I told you it was everywhere,” Emmett said.

The hum of the refrigerator compressors buzzed on and off and the lights flickered several times. The electricity went out.

Raising his hands in the air the attendant clapped his knees. “Okay, that’s it. We’re going to stay here, and we need to make the best of it until rescuers come and get us.”

“
But you said we couldn’t say here,” Tom said, “You don’t make any sense, you say one thing then another. You’re acting like a typical adult.”

“
I did, because you couldn’t be quiet. The jets attacked something. That means this is really big. So now maybe you will understand how screwed we are and follow directions.”

“
We’re going to my house.”

“
How? Through all of that out there?” the attendant chuckled in disbelief. “You haven’t got a chance in hell. Do you really think you can make it?”

Raindrops started to patter on the roof of the store, drowning out the sounds of the zombies at the gate. Tom wondered just how they might make it home. It was a good question. “So can we stay then?”

The attendant nodded, and they settled back to rest, sitting in the timeless silence of the dark storeroom, listening to the drumming of the rain.

Without the air conditioning, the room was sweltering like a sauna, sweat rolled down Tom’s face. His mind played tricks on him and he jumped at every creak and thump. He dreaded the thought of zombies crashing in at any moment and couldn’t relax. Staying still became impossible.

Wrappers crinkled, amplified by the quiet. The twins sat obediently crunching on candy. He told himself it would be alright, desperately wanting to believe that it was safe in the store, but his gut told him otherwise. He needed a plan.

The twins could have all the candy, but he needed a cold drink. The coolers were out front, so he got up to go and get one. The twins fidgeted as he stood.

“
Where you going?” Winston asked.

The tumbler clacked as Tom turned the lock and motioned for the twins to stay. “Thirsty.”

“
Don’t go out there. We’re safe here,” Emmett said. “Don’t mess it up. We can put a sign in the window. That way our parents will know we’re here.”

The attendant panicked and lunged for Tom. “Stop, you idiot.”

Tom slipped out the door and crept to the front of the store, despite the attendant.

The attendant peered through the crack in the door. “Get back here now,” he said as quietly as possible.

Finding the store cool up front was a relief. Tom thought he was going to pass out if he stayed in the stuffy back room any longer. From the shadows behind a store rack he peered outside into the thick rain. The chaos moved away and calm took over. Further out on the street, zombies stood still with their heads pointed to the sky, scattered perfectly choreographed like a weird flash mob. Their numbers had grown.

Apprehension turned to cunning as Tom stared out at the crowd of zombies. The keys for the cars in for repair hung on hooks behind the cash register.

Why not?
Tom smiled. He had seen his dad drive a million times, easy peasy. There was no telling which car would work, so he took all the of the keys from the rack as quietly as he could.

Behind him the security gate rattled and needles of goose flesh rose up on the nape of his neck, he froze. Tom turned his head slowly, faces peered in at him through the gate. Standing out in the open to get the car keys was a big mistake.

Suspended in a mosaic of horror they broke free and began their thrum of deconstruction on the security gate. It started slowly and worked its way up to a frenzy. And like the ringing of a summer camp’s dinner bell, it drew in others. They came en masse. Weakened from the earlier assault, the security gate began to tear from its mountings under the weight of the attackers.

Blinded by terror, Tom found himself back in the storeroom breathing fast and shallow. The attendant demanded to know what he had done. The sounds of smashing glass and of tearing metal answered his question.

The attendant grabbed a crowbar and shook his fist at the twins. “Get your packs. Your friend ruined everything.”

Not knowing what to do, Tom stared at the twins. “I was thirsty.”

“
Now!” The attendant pushed Tom out of the way and pulled the twins to their feet. He opened the back door a crack and peered out. “It’s clear. On the count of three we run.”

Tom and the twins tightened the straps on their packs and were ready to run out of the door into the shop yard of the U-Mart.

“
Okay, ready,” he nodded.

“
Three,” the attendant said, skipping one and two. He opened the door and ran.