The Saga Of Tom Stinson (Book 1): Summer School Zombocalypse (8 page)

Uncontrollable acids churned in Tom’s stomach, and his gut clenched. He buckled over and leaned over the edge as ejecta sprayed from his mouth, squirting from his nose and burning the back of his throat down onto the zombies. Through puke-bleary eyes, Tom saw their pursuers arrive, ambling down the driveway in a massive horde. There was no time to pull the ladder up, he pushed it down to the ground.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he fell back onto the tree house floor, landing with a thud. Disoriented, he grabbed at the twins and mumbled that he didn’t feel so good. But they squirmed free from his grasp and motioned for him to be quiet. Pain spotted across his forehead, searing and stabbing all at once. Tom closed his eyes and mumbled. “If they get up here. You have to fight.”

Winston held his hand over Tom’s mouth and whispered, “If we’re quiet, maybe they will leave like last time.”

Tom tried to tell Winston that he didn’t think that that would work with so many, but the words echoed in his head causing the pain to get worse. He raised his arms and held his head as if somehow to stop it from exploding.

“
You need to drink water,” Winston said. “I learned the signs of dehydration at baseball camp.”

They ate and drank, waiting quietly.

After a long while Tom felt better. He peeled back a corner of the carpet and peered through the gaps in the floorboards. Only six zombies remained.

“
They’re waiting for us,” Winston said.

“
We’re like treed raccoons,” Emmett added, “If this is going to be our base, we have to come up with a better defense plan.”

“
I don’t think we have many choices,” Tom said. “They aren’t going anywhere.”

“
Tell us something new.”

Winston spoke with confidence, “Hit them with the shovel!”

Why?” Tom said. “There isn’t anything else we can do.”

He picked up the shovel, knelt at the edge of the tree house, and whistled, “Hey. Up here.”

The zombies turned and crowded around the tree trunk, grasping for Tom. He thrust the shovel down onto the heads of the zombies; its blade cut deep into the skull of the first one easily. He thrust the shovel down, again and again. “Their heads are so squishy. This isn’t hard at all.”

“
Ha ha. Good idea, huh?” Winston watched intently.

“
Over confidence will get you,” Emmett said.

Tom took his eyes off the zombies. “Do you always have to be such a downer? I got this.”

Then a zombie grasped the shovel and pulled it from his hands, jerking him off balance. Winston grabbed onto his shirt as he caught himself on the door frame. Tom moved back away from the edge of the tree house and sat down with his back against the tree. “It was going so well, why’d you have to jinx it?”

“
What are you going to do now?” Emmett asked.

“
Just use the shotgun. There’s only five left,” Winston said.

“
No way,” replied Tom. “We need a different weapon, a quiet one.”

“
I have to go,” Winston said.

Tom rubbed his temples. “Then go.”

“
I gotta pee real bad.”

“
I get that, go over the edge.”

“
I can’t. I need a bathroom.”

“
Just go.”

“
Our mom said that people who urinate in public are bad,” Emmett said.

Winston held himself and rocked back and forth on his feet. He shook his head, “I can’t.”

“
Use the window.” Tom turned his head and watched the remaining zombies. “The zombies won’t care, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

A moment later Winston sighed with relief.To Tom’s surprise the zombies moved around to the other side of the tree right under Winston.

“
That’s the grossest thing I’ve ever seen,” Emmett said.

“
It’s the best, actually,” Tom said. “If we can distract the zombies long enough for me to get over to the garage roof, I can get through the skylight and get another weapon. Perhaps the hoe.”

“
You have a skylight in your garage? That’s the dumbest thing ever. How will you get back?”

“
Not now, hack boy. It’s only like six feet away, maybe a bit more. Be quiet while I think.”

He closed his eyes and imagined what the crossing would be like in his mind.

“
Thinking and doing are two different things, you know.”

“
Emmett, for once just shut up. All I have to do is walk out on that branch and then jump to the roof. Drink these bottles of water, I need a distraction.”

Emmett shook his head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“
It’s how we’re going to distract the zombies,” Tom said.

“
Maybe you could use the pulley rope to swing like Tarzan to the roof, then you would have a way to get back,” said Emmett sarcastically.

“
Tarzan. Why didn’t I think of that?” Tom replied. It was a crazy idea and he didn’t like it.

“
It’s just as dumb as peeing on the zombies,” Emmett said.

“
Do what I say.”

“
Stop being so bossy,” Emmett yelled. “Stop telling us what to do, every little thing is your plan. This plan, that plan. Plan. Plan. Plan.”

“
Tough,” Tom said firmly. “This isn’t a democracy. I’m in charge, and what if I fall down into the zombies? You couldn’t even save yourself. You’d be dead already if it weren’t for me.”

Cutting in, Winston said, “You guys shut up.”

Emmett retorted, “My idea is better, safer, and it’s not that far to swing.”

“
You’re not the one doing it,” Tom replied in a whisper.

“
Chicken.”

“
Knock it off,” Winston waved his arms in the air. “Stop arguing. Fighting isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“
Shut up. Quiet. If you yell, more of them will come,” Tom said.

Loud moans came from below. Winston said, “They’re getting worked up down there.”

“
They know we are up here,” Emmett yelled. “It doesn’t matter if we make noise any more. And why do we have to pee. Can’t we just yell at them?”

Tom threw his arms up in frustration. “I could kill you. More will hear us and come, that’s why. It’s my plan. Now drink the water.”

To jump or to swing. He stared at the garage roof and the branches that stuck out toward the garage. Both branches were too weak. Alone the rope and the branch were a bad choice, but together they might work. They were both right on how to solve the problem. He would use the branch and the rope. The rope would help him keep his balance, and if the branch started to break, then he could use the rope to hold onto and get himself back into the tree house without falling.

Tom picked up the rope and Emmett said. “See, my plan is better.”

Snapping around, he shook his head. No, I will use both our plans. We will work together, we have to. Now stay out of the way, and let me get this done.”

“
You want us to work together, but you don’t want us to help. Except for hauling your junk up here,” Emmett said.

“
And peeing on the zombies,” Winston added.

“
Just drink the water,” Tom said. “Imagine flowing water. Imagine a waterfall. I don’t care what you have to do. I need you to go.”

Emmett and Winston got in place, and Tom readied himself to run across and jump from the branch. “On the count of three.

“
One. Two.”

Winston called out as Tom shouted three, “Wait, I can’t!”

It was too late, Tom bounded over, taking two big steps across the branch. The branch flexed and sprung him forward, but Winston’s cry caused him to hesitate in mid stride. It upset the calculation, and he landed on the edge of the roof with one foot in the gutter.

The gutter bent under Tom’s weight; he teetered back and forth, waving his arms to gain balance. Nails popped free from the mountings, and the gutter snapped; he fell. He tried to twist around to fall back onto the rooftop but he couldn’t. As he fell, he thought how lucky he was to still be holding on to the rope.

The twins cried out as he fell.

He swung backwards and slammed into the zombies that surrounded, the tree, hitting them hard. The force of the impact caused him to lose his grip on the rope. He hit the ground, shoulder first and tumbled to a stop on the one that he had killed. He gasped for breath and scooted backwards, kicking with his legs to get away across the grass. His hand pressed down on the blade of the shovel and it cut into his palm. The handle rose up off the ground; he took the shovel and rolled to his feet. He steadied himself and charged. The shovel drove home and stuck into the neck of the closest zombie.

Twisting the blade free, he took three quick steps backwards, then charged the next zombie. He swung the shovel like a baseball bat, broadsiding it in the head. It staggered back and tripped over the first zombie’s body, then fell to the ground in a heap. He drove the shovel downward, severing the zombie’s head from its body.

Overhead, lightning streaked across the sky, and the loud crack of thunder rumbled as Tom squared off with the remaining zombies. The afternoon downpour started, heavy drops pelting his face and clouding his vision. The wet grass became slick under his feet.

The twins watched the melee in fear and amazement, not daring to make a sound for fear of distracting Tom. Tom charged again and another fell. He dodged around his old swing set, the one he never used, and circled in the direction of the garage to have something at his back. He backed into the garage’s side door as the last two zombies advanced on him. Inside the door he stood firm, bracing himself ready to strike, but something didn’t feel right. The smell. Something putrid was behind him.

Electricity zipped up his back. He ducked and ran forward out of the garage, just like when he was a kid. Something hit him hard on the shoulder, knocking him off balance. He staggered and slipped on the muddy grass; all he could think was
not like this
.

Pasty mud caked his knees and squished through his fingers as he dog-eared it past the zombies. He made it away, rolling onto the cement of his driveway.

“
Get out of the way!” the twins warned.

He didn’t dare take his eyes off the zombies. They were almost on him. Unclear of where they wanted him to go, he took the chance and looked up to see that both Winston and Emmett were holding the shotgun and pointing it down toward the advancing zombies. For an instant, he thought that Emmett was aiming for him. He dove to the side, out of the line of fire and rolled up against the garage door.

The shotgun boomed in three slow, successive shots. The two closest zombies went down and fell at his feet, and the one from the garage hobbled around the corner. It’s half chewed head rolled to one side as it turned to face Tom. He shouted as he swung the shovel, “Die! Die! Die!”

The shovel hit the zombie in the head. He struck again and again, following it as it staggered back and giving it everything he had. It fell and Tom drove the shovel into its head. “Not today.”

“
Are you alright?” Winston and Emmett called down.

Panting, shook his head.

“
Hurry and get the ladder, more are coming,” Winston said.

Weak from the fight, he struggled to raise the ladder to the tree house. Each step up sent pain through his body. At the top he collapsed and passed out with his feet hanging over the edge.

Tom woke to find Emmett and Winston shaking him. “Tom! We don’t know what to do. Wake up. Wake up.”

His throat was bone dry, and his lips felt like they were cracking. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a faint rasp for water. Winston poured water into his mouth and guided his hand to hold the bottle.

Winston’s voice was desperate. “Here, this is the last one.”

Sunlight shone into Tom’s eyes through the tree house window. Squinting, he pushed himself up on one elbow and drank deeply. He coughed and water spat out of his mouth. The water hurt his parched throat and he could barely swallow. They’d had a case of water so how could they have run out already?

“
Last one, what?” He managed to get out.

“
He threw water on me,” Winston said.

“
You smell like a skunk.”

“
That’s the zombies, derp-brain.”

“
What?” Tom was confused.

“
You’ve slept since yesterday. A lot of things have happened,” Emmett said.

“
Yesterday?” He didn’t feel like he slept at all. He felt more like he’d been beaten with a 2x4 and then thrown into a deep rocky pit. Something smelled really bad, and he sniffed the air around the twins. It was choking. Winston pointed down toward the yard, his voice shook, “We have a big problem.”

Tom turned his head in the direction of Winston’s outstretched finger and realized that the smell wasn’t the twins. The smell of rotting hamburger that hung in the air told him how screwed they were. Tom gave up trying to count. “It’s not safe here anymore, damn it.”

“
I could have told you that,” Emmett said.

“
You’re right. I should have known. I should have expected that.”

“
You’re admitting I’m right?” Emmett said, genuinely surprised.

“
Don’t get used to it.”

Winston held the shovel out to Tom, “How many can you get with the shovel?”

“
What if they grab the shovel again?” Tom said, not wanting to admit that it was his mistake the first time.

“
We can’t stay here,” Winston said and put the shovel down with the blade stuck between floorboards so it stood up.

“
Really? We know that,” Tom replied.

“
What if we use the ladder as a bridge?” Emmett asked. “Can you try to make it to the garage roof again?”

Tom held onto the shovel and used it to stand up; oh, how his back ached. “No way. Could you even make it? I don’t think it’s strong enough, even if we crossed one at a time.”

Winston stared out at the roof of the garage and across the yards. “We have to try something, or we’re going to die up here. There has to be a way.”

“
We don’t even know where we would go. Nowhere is safe,” Tom said. He felt desperate to run. If they made it across to the garage roof, what then? He didn’t know. Something caught Winston’s eye, his head raised up, and he thrust his arm out. “Over there, at that house. A girl is in the window!”

There was a girl standing in an upstairs window two houses down from Tom’s. She waved to them, and when she saw that she had their attention she disappeared, and came back holding up a sign that read HELP.

“
Who’s that?” Winston bounced on his feet.

“
That’s Anidea Stetzle,” Tom was surprised, for all her stupid corkscrew curls and gap teeth, she hadn’t been killed or turned into a zombie yet; she lived. “She has a one-eyed cat, and she’s even creepier that it is. I never talk to her. She lives there with her grandpa.”

“
Are we going to help her?” Winston asked.

“
We can’t even help ourselves. How can we help her?” Tom answered. He would rather let her rot in her house than help her.

“
We can use the ladder and go to the garage roof, then go to the next garage using it, too. Then we can hop down on the other side and get over the fence into her house if the door is open,” Emmett blurted out, but he was met with silence from Tom.

Winston gave Tom a hopeful look. “That’s a plan.”

They watched Anidea in the window. Tom could tell she was frustrated by the way she gestured with her arms, waving them and pointing. She changed signs from, Help to Come, Help, Me! She even made a :-) sign that she held up at the end of her message.

Tom’s eyes grew wide. “That girl is crazy. I bet she thinks we are going to help her.”

A loud moan came from down below.

“
Tom,” Winston said. “The zombies. They are climbing.”

His brow lifted, “The zombies are climbing?” He peered through the slats in the floor. A zombie was climbing up the tree, its arms were wrapped around the trunk, and it was pushing with its feet.

“
See?” Winston said.

He pulled his backpack towards him across the floor and checked the contents.

“
Emmett,” Tom said abruptly, “your plan’s so crazy that it might actually work. So get everything that you need and put it in your packs. We are moving out.”

They signaled to Anidea that they were coming over. She jumped up and down in her window. He peered through the floorboards again just as the zombie let go of the tree with

one arm and swung at the underside of the tree house. It hit the boards with a crack and the shovel fell over. Using the rope from the pulley, they lowered the ladder down onto the garage roof, like a drawbridge from the tree house.

“
We have to go one at a time,” Tom said. “Winston, you go first. Then I’ll toss the backpacks to you. Whatever you do, don’t drop them.”

The branch was thin enough to wrap his hand around. Tom stepped out on to the ladder holding on to the branch. He bounced up and down, testing it for stability.

Satisfied, he pointed for Winston to cross. The ladder bowed in the middle from his weight and the arms of the zombies reached up, grabbing at him. Relieved that Winston had made it across, Tom tossed the backpacks to him, and he did his job, catching them safely. Then it was Emmett’s turn to go. Emmett held his arms out like a trapeze artist and wobbled out onto the ladder. Taking slow steps, his feet moved with uncertainty. Emmett shook.

“
Don’t look down,” Winston said.

The ladder bowed more than it had with Winston. “Hurry,” Tom shouted. “The ladder isn’t going to hold.”

Emmett yelped and slipped through the rungs, ending up wedged under his arms. His legs dangled down. The zombies swarmed underneath him. The ladder bowed deeper, bringing Emmett closer to them. His head shook back and forth in fear, and he cried out. He kicked his legs as he tried to dodge their grasp.

“
Swing your legs up,” Tom yelled.

Emmett swung his legs to hook them on the rungs. He missed. A zombie caught his foot and pulled. Its mouth opened, spittle and angry leather worms shot out.

Tom had to do something. Acting fast, he took the shotgun in one hand and held on to the branch with the other. He stepped out onto the ladder, which bowed even further down. He hung from the branch as far down as he could, jammed the shotgun down onto the head of the zombie and fired. It burst. The zombie fell. The shotgun flew from his hand, knocking him off balance. He hung from one arm for a moment trying to regain his footing. The tree limb started to crack, shifting his weight more onto the ladder. Under the added weight the ladder’s extension locks popped. Tom grabbed Emmett’s shirt and pulled.

“
Climb,” he strained. Emmett bellied onto the ladder. His collar had ripped, and his shirt was stretched over the top of his head like a handle. The branch finally gave way just as Tom leapt back to the tree house. Emmett wormed his way across the ladder and grabbed Winston’s outstretched hand to pull himself onto the garage roof.

It was Tom’s turn to go. The ladder was bent more than with Emmett, and the branch was now useless. The zombies below were frenzied, and the one that was climbing hooked it’s arm around the floor boards. Tom gave the arm a vicious kick, and the zombie fell.

“
I’m going to have to run across,” he called to the twins. “Get ready to grab my arms when I get over there. I can't fall again.”

He moved across, but with no one holding the ladder on the tree house side his quick steps caused the end to bounce free and fall from the tree house to the ground. It landed perfectly against the garage. Instinct kept him from falling as he clung to the ladder and stepped up to the roof. He tried to push the ladder down with his legs, but the zombies were already on it and coming after them.

It was too heavy to push over. “Move,” Tom yelled.

They scrambled over the roof on their hands and knees to reach the other side of the garage, stopping at the far edge just as the zombies topped the ladder. The next garage roof was only five feet away, “We have to jump, and we have to do it right now. I’ll go first and then grab hold of you when you land so you don’t fall,” Tom said.

Tom tossed his backpack and then jumped. The pack landed flat on the roof and stuck in place, but he bounced badly, almost falling off before managing to steady himself. He flipped over to catch the twins and gasped when he saw that Winston hadn’t waited to jump. He thrust his arms up defensively, and Winston landed on him, his knee thumping into Tom’s thigh and his arms folding under the weight of the impact. Winston planted his face into the roof shingles and bounced back. Tom grabbed him and held tight. Emmett stood on the edge of the roof hesitating to jump.

Tom yelled, seeing the first zombie crest the roof top. “Emmett, look at me. Do it now!”

Emmett jumped weakly, and Tom could tell from the very second that his feet left the roof, he knew he wasn’t going to make it. He had forgotten to throw his pack first, and it weighed him down. Tom tried to grab his arm and pull him in, but Emmett slipped through his grasp and he fell, landing in the thick bushes that grew between the two garages.

“
I’m okay,” Emmett called up.

“
Run to the fence, and get over it,” Tom said. Emmett was lucky that he landed on the neighbor’s side of the fence that ran between the yards. He could have been trapped, facing the zombies.

Rough tar shingles scraped their hands as they went up and over the roof. “This is where we jump down,” Tom said, nodding to Winston. “Ready?”

Emmett screamed as he climbed over the fence to Anidea’s yard. “They’re knocking down your fence.”

“
Hang down, and then drop, Winston,” Tom said. “Go.”

Rain soaked grass squished under their feet as they landed. They ran to the fence and vaulted over it. The zombies were right behind them and pushed into the Stetzle’s fence.

Emmett pounded on Anidea’s back door. “Hurry. Open up.”