The Zombie Chasers #4
Read The Zombie Chasers #4 Online
Authors: John Kloepfer
A
chill shivered up Zack Clarke's legs as he walked barefoot down his deserted street, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder. Suddenly the shadows warped off the lawn and morphed into undead flesh-and-blood figures. Mom and Dad, Rice and Ozzie, Zoe and Madison, and even Twinkles surrounded Zack on all sides, snarling at him through jagged zombie teeth, hungry for brains.
“Ack!” Zack yelled, and started to run.
Beep-beep-beep!
Zack shot straight up in bed, his heart racing. The hotel alarm clock blared in his ear. He reached over and hit the Off button.
Just another nightmare
,
he thought, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
It had been six months since Zack, Rice, Madison, Zoe, and Ozzie reversed the zombie outbreak and unzombified the nation, and for the most part things were finally getting back to normal. Except there was nothing normal about today. Zack and his friends were about to appear on the
Good Morning Show
for the opening of the new zombie exhibit at the Museum of Natural History.
Zack looked around the hotel room, bleary-eyed. The television was on and Rice sat on the end of his bed, spooning a bowl of cereal into his mouth, hypnotized by an ancient Tom and Jerry cartoon.
“What's going on?” Zack asked, looking over at Ozzie's cot, which was neatly made with a folded stack of green camouflage T-shirts on the end. “Where's Ozzie?”
“He's already on set. He went with Madison and Zoe, like, twenty minutes ago.” Rice looked at the clock and turned to Zack. “You'd better get moving, man. Our car's gonna be here in fifteen minutes.”
Zack grumbled something under his breath, threw off the covers, then walked sluggishly to the bathroom and slammed the door. He had never been much of a morning person.
The boys rode the elevator down and walked through the lobby out to the street, where a limo driver stood holding a sign:
CLARKE & RICE
.
The driver opened the door, and the boys hopped in, sinking down into the cushy leather seats. The limo pulled away from the curb and merged into the honking New York City rush hour.
“Yo,” Rice said. “How sweet is it that we get to be on TV?”
“Pretty sweet, I guess.” Zack shrugged. “I don't know. Did they have to schedule the interview during our school trip to New York City? Almost the entire seventh and eighth grades are going to be there, watching us.”
“Exactly!” Rice said. “It's your chance to show off some of that Zack Clarke charm I keep telling the Fearsome Foursome about.” The Fearsome Foursome was a clique of the four most popular girls in seventh grade. Gabby Kahn, Jamie Joran, Mandy Pitman, and Ayana Healy made up the ruthless crew of mini mean girls, and they were a force to be reckoned with.
“Yeah, about them,” Zack said. “Not interested.”
“But we're national heroes now, dude. The old rules don't apply to us anymore,” Rice said. “Do you know what hanging out with the Fearsome Foursome could do for our street cred? Not to mention, I heard from a fairly reliable source that last week during gym class Gabby said she kind of likes yâ”
“Rice!” Zack shushed his friend, pointing to the driver's eyes peeking back at them in the rearview mirror. “Dude, we have bigger things to focus on right now,” Zack said. “Like not sounding stupid on live television. Or screwing up the museum exhibit opening.”
Zack got nervous just giving a presentation in school, and now he was supposed to do a live interview in front of millions of people? Right after the outbreak, Zack and the gang had given a few local interviews back in Arizona, but this was different. This was the big time. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, gazing out the window at the crisp blue New York morning.
The city blocks flew by, and before long the car pulled over to the curb.
“Here you go, fellas,” said the driver. “The Museum of Natural History.”
Rice peered over his flashy prescription sunglasses, glanced out the window, and frowned. “What's this? Where's the paparazzi? The red carpet?”
“Real funny, kid,” the driver said. “Now scram.”
Zack and Rice hopped out of the car. Next to Zack, Rice stood out in shiny black jeans, brand-new high-tops, and a gold chain around his neck. He sported a warm-up jacket over a freshly ironed T-shirt with a red slash X-ing out a BurgerDog logo on the front. The whole outfit looked like something out of a rap video.
“You look insane,” Zack said, smirking at his pal.
“Don't hate the player, Zacky,” Rice said, popping his collar. “Hate the game.” Rice adjusted his sunglasses and swaggered off.
At the top of the steps, two cameras on tall black tripods faced the front of the museum. Over the entrance hung a large banner that read:
NECROINFECTIOUS GENETIC PANDEMIC!
Zack and Rice walked around the camera setup and found Madison and Zoe sitting under the makeup tent in director-style chairs, getting preshow manicures.
“Looking good, ladies!” Rice said, stepping inside. He flexed his muscles in the full-length mirror.
Zoe laughed out loud. “Rice, stop it. You're so not diesel.”
Rice ignored Zoe's comment. “Nice outfit, Madison,” he said, admiring her spring dress and matching high-heeled shoes.
“Thanks, Ricey-poo,” Madison said, puckering her lips at her own reflection. “You don't look so bad yourself.”
“Not so sure I can say the same for you, little bro,” Zoe said, looking her brother up and down.
Zack glanced down at his plain white shirt and black dress pants. “What's wrong with this?”
“Ouch!” Madison let out a high-pitched yelp. “You cut me!” she said, pulling her hand back and glowering at the manicurist.
“Well, don't just stand there like an imbecile,” Zoe shouted, pronouncing the last syllable
seal
. “Go get her a Band-Aid! Now!” She ordered the makeup girl away but kept her eyes on Zack. “You're going on national television representing your school, your family, and, most important, me, so you can't be dressing like some lame-o. Madison, can you please back me up?”
Madison pinched her cut finger and inspected Zack's wardrobe choice. “Ee-you,” she said. “No offense, Zack, but it's totally boring!”
Zack looked Rice dead in the eye. “Dude, why didn't you tell me my clothes looked totally boring back at the hotel?”
“Don't listen to these two,” said Rice. “We have to go to wardrobe anyway, so we'll have time to give you a quick makeover.”
Zack shuddered at the thought. No thanks to his sister and Madison, he had developed a slight phobia of people trying to make him look pretty.
Rice put his arm around Zack's shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “Don't worry, buddy . . . no girls allowed this time.”
They found their way to the wardrobe trailer across the street on Central Park West, but as Zack reached for the door, it flew open in his face.
Wham!
The door kicker struck a rigid pose and made a long, high-pitched shriek like a martial-arts master in a kung fu flick.
Ozzie Briggs stood in the doorframe wearing a white karate
gi
with a black belt cinched around his waist.
“Nice kick, Oz!” Rice said, in awe of his pal.
“What's up, Ozzie?” Zack said, slapping him five. “You scared the crud out of me.”
“Sorry, man. Just getting warmed up for my little demonstration,” Ozzie replied, tightening his belt. “I've got to get ready backstage, guys. Check you on the flip side.” He grabbed his nunchakus and exited the trailer.
A few minutes later Zack emerged from the dressing room in a pair of skinny blue jeans and a hip-looking button-down with extra buttons and pockets to make it look extra cool. According to Rice, there was a direct correlation between something's coolness and the amount of pockets, loops, buttons, and straps it had. Zack checked himself out in the full-length mirror. Rice wasn't such a bad stylist after all.
As the boys stepped out of the trailer, some guy with a headpiece and microphone walked up to them and said, “Two-minute warning. They need you on standby.”
As Zack and Rice followed the TV guy up the museum steps, they looked down and saw a mass of people assembled outside the red velvet ropes. In the crowd, three tween girls held up signs for each of the boys.
I LOVE YOU, ZC!
RICE, WILL YOU MARRY ME?
CALL ME, OZZIE! 867-5309âJENNY.
Rice blew a little smooch to the girl holding up the marriage proposal, and she fainted into the arms of her two friends. Zack crinkled his eyebrows and kept moving, trying to ignore them. Another crew member rushed Zack and Rice to their spots next to Madison and Zoe.
Zack felt the butterflies fluttering in his belly.
“Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one!” The cameras were rolling and they were live.
The host turned and spoke directly to the camera.
“Six months ago our world was turned into a nightmare of undead carnage. The whole country was on the brink of annihilation. And if not for the efforts of a few middle schoolers from Phoenix, Arizona, we all might still be zombified. Please welcome Zack and Zoe Clarke, Johnston Rice, and the one, the only Madison Miller.” The audience applauded as the four of them waved to the cheering crowd.
Madison leaned over and grabbed the microphone from the host. “Don't forget about Twinkles,” she said, and pulled the little Boggle puppy from her purse.
“How could I have forgotten Twinkles?” The host smiled at Madison and continued. “Together these unlikely heroes transported the zombie antidote across the country to BurgerDog CEO and famed geneticist Thaddeus Duplessis, who helped them mass-produce the brain-flavored unzombifying popcorn antidote.” The TV host turned to them. “What were you all feeling when you confronted the person to blame for this utter catastrophe?”
“Honestly,” Zoe piped up first, “I really wanted to make him pay for what he did. I mean, he was totally responsible for zombifying this.” She waved her hand in front of her face.
