The Zombie in the Basement (6 page)

For a few seconds, Ricky’s legs dangled in the air, his upper body still outside, and he saw images of his legs being chopped off or torn off by some monster. He now wondered if the zombie wasn’t alone in the basement. Maybe other creatures of the night were in there and they were all waiting to have a midnight snack named Ricky.

“
Slow down, I can’t hold you,” Eric hissed, but it was too late. One second Ricky’s legs were kicking open air, then his waist was past the window frame and he was sliding down into the basement.

His stomach rubbed the wood frame and he felt a few small splinters slide into his skin, but other than a slight pinch, he was fine. He dropped down heavily into the basement and turned around so his back was to the wall, the window over his head now.

His butt was planted on the cold cement floor and his eyes tried to peer into the darkness, but the ebony shadows were complete.

In other words, he couldn’t see a thing.

“
Ricky? Are you okay?” Eric’s panicked voice called down from the open window.

Ricky sat perfectly still, the darkness like a cloak. He was waiting for something to jump out at him, but after almost a minute and still nothing, his frantic heart began to slow.

It looked like the zombie wasn’t in this part of the basement.

“
Yeah, I’m fine. It’s safe, come on down,” Ricky whispered. He heard a scraping, scuffing sound above him and then some loose dirt and grass fell onto the top of his head. Realizing his head was going to become a stepping stool for Eric, he moved to the side.

“
Ricky, where are you? Help me down, will ya?” Eric hissed as he held onto the edge of the window frame.

Ricky moved to his friend and grabbed him by the waist, then helped Eric slide down the wall.

The open window allowed the slightest bit of light to filter into the basement, and now that Ricky had been inside for a few minutes, he realized he could see a little better. Then he remembered he had his flashlight and took it out of his pocket.

Turning it on, it was pointed at Eric’s face, who cried out as the light blinded him.

“
Hey, cut it out, get that thing out of my face, gees,” he snapped as he turned away angrily, now seeing white spots dance across his vision.

“
Sorry,” Ricky said, not really feeling that sorry about it. Eric was his best friend but he could be a pain sometimes.

Eric blinked a few times and his vision cleared. He moved next to Ricky, not wanting to be alone in the dark and dingy basement.

“
So, what do we do now?” Eric asked as he peered into the darkness past the circle of light the flashlight cast.

“
Simple, we go find the zombie, and after we get some evidence, we go tell the police.”

“
Evidence? What kind of evidence?” Eric asked.

Ricky frowned, thinking on that. He hadn’t really given that part of the plan too much thought. So in the end, he just shrugged. “I don’t know, we’ll see what we can find. Now come on, let’s go.”

Ricky started out, taking small steps as he made his way through the basement. The massive room was as big as the entire house from left to right, only large metal

beams and crossbeams blocking the way from making it one absolutely huge room. Ricky played the flashlight over the edges of the room, seeing boxes with
Xmas
labeled on them as well as odds and ends such as old garden hoses and a couple of broken garden rakes. Another corner held snow shovels and bags of salt and sand.

So far, it was a typical basement, no more special than any other in the town.

It was when the two boys were halfway through the basement and were becoming bored, Ricky beginning to second guess what he’d seen earlier that day in the basement window, that the flashlight beam rested on what was obviously a door leading to another part of the room.

“
What do you think is in there?” Eric whispered as he stared at the door. It was a big gray door, made of metal, with a large silver doorknob, the knob faded from age. The bottom part of the door had scrape marks, like when people kick a door open because their hands are full, the paint old and chipped.

The door had a keyhole for a lock, but the boys couldn’t tell if the door was locked or not.

“
That has to be where the zombie is,” Ricky said. “Old man Rollin must lock it up at night so people can’t hear it moaning.”

“
What do you think he feeds it?” Eric asked, swallowing hard. He had an idea it was probably little kids just like him.

“
Don’t know, probably animals and stuff. If he fed it people then the town would know they were missing. Yeah, animals mostly, dogs and cats, maybe some mice.”

Eric stared at his friend who was chatting about a zombie’s diet like they were talking about what they had for lunch that day at school.

“
Ricky, you are one sick puppy. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Ricky grinned. “Yeah, you just did.”

Eric opened his mouth for another rebuttal when Ricky stepped towards the door, and before Eric could tell him to stop, Ricky turned the doorknob and opened it, the door unlocked.

Eric ran up to Ricky, wanting to make his friend close the door and leave with him. This had all been a big

mistake. If they left now, no one would ever know they’d been here and the two could go on living happy lives.

But it was too late. The heavy door swung inward on squeaking hinges and Ricky stood stock still in the doorway, Eric right behind him and looking over his shoulder.

The flashlight had been pointed down to the floor, and Ricky moved it slowly forward. He stopped when the light picked up something both boys recognized immediately.

It was a pair of shoes. The shoes were brown and worn with one of the laces undone. Ricky and Eric were frozen in fear as they stared at the shoes which were connected to a pair of legs. Though petrified, Ricky slowly raised the flashlight to illuminate the legs. The beam ever so slowly crawled up the legs until it stopped at the knees. The knees were normal, though one seemed to have a scuff, like the owner had knelt down on a dirty floor. Ricky, as if he was on automatic, slowly raised the beam some more, the light showing the leather belt

buckled on a waist and an old flannel shirt, red once, but now faded to a dull brown color.

Ricky and Eric were shivering in fear, but Ricky, as if possessed, raised the light to the chest, knowing he needed to see the face of the zombie before the spell holding him immobile could be broken and he could run.

The light rose to the chest of the zombie, showing one of the buttons on the old shirt wasn’t done right, so that all the other buttons were off by one. Slowly, the light rose until it was just touching the neck of the ghoul.