Zombie Surf Commandos from Mars! (3 page)

Then, a woman's face smiled from the front bubble window of the helicopter. She waved.

Jeff waved back. “Hi, Mom!”

An instant later, the helicopter roared away.

Liz peered around. “Hey! The zombies are gone!” It was true. Not a gray skin flake in sight!

Holly jumped up. “Your
mom?
That was your mom? Does she always scare people to death?”

Jeff looked hurt. “Well, yeah. People always drop down and play dead when she goes over. Just like you did. Anyway, she scared the zombies away.”

Liz glared at Jeff. With a mother like that, she wondered if it was already too late to help him.

Jeff frowned. “What's the big deal? It's just my mom.”

“Okay, Jeff,” Liz said. “I thought you told us your mother worked in a shoe store. What does she really do?”

Jeff shrugged. “She works in a shoe store.”

“Wrong!” said Liz, like a game show host.

“She sells seashells by the sea —” Jeff started to say.

“Jeff!” Liz snapped.

“Oh, man! What can I say?” he said. “She won't tell me what she does. It's a secret. She and my dad are really quiet about it all.”

“Helicopters aren't quiet,” said Holly, scanning the beach for anything that moved.

“Yeah,” Jeff admitted, looking at the black dot disappearing over the hills. “That's a little strange. A chopper flies to my house every morning, drops a rope ladder, and my mom climbs up and goes to work. Every night at eight it flies back and she parachutes down.”

Liz turned Jeff around by his shoulders and pointed to the far hills. “Your mom works just over that giant pancake pan, in those hills, in a secret government test base, doesn't she?”

Jeff bit his lower lip and looked down at the sand. “Well, one night, I heard her say something to my dad, but it doesn't make sense.”

“What did she say?” asked Liz.

“Yeah,” said Holly. “You can tell us.”

“Fly sauce,” Jeff said. “She works with fly sauce.”

Holly wrinkled her face up. “Fly sauce? Why would she work with fly sauce? I mean, what
is
fly sauce?”

Liz jumped up. “No!” she exclaimed. “Not fly sauce. Flying saucers! I knew it!”

Jeff's mouth nearly dropped to his chest. “Flying saucers? Really?

“Listen, you guys,” Liz went on. “I always knew Grover's Mill was weird, and this proves it. We must be in like the world center of UFO landings and stuff. This place is a magnet for weirdness from every corner of the universe.”

“From Mar — zzzz?” Jeff looked thoughtful. “That might explain these dead guys with the — ”

Tap! Tap! Tap! The sound of bongos suddenly broke through the air.

Liz felt cold fear swat her back. A shiver fell across her shoulders. Her spine felt like cold jelly was sliding down it.

Holly jerked around and pointed to a nearby dune. “Maybe they're dead — but they're back!”

“Braaaaains!” the zombie knob-faced leader whined, as a squad of Martian commando surf zombies piled over a dune and charged at the three kids!

But the sand slowed the zombies down! Good thing the undead were wearing thick-soled, silver space boots!

“To the clubhouse, quick,” Liz shouted. In a flash the kids tore across the sand and leaped up to the wooden porch.

Pretty party lights swung all along the canvas awning. Liz stepped into the building.

Suddenly, she screeched to a stop and shot her finger up to her lips. Holly stopped and rubbed her forehead where the finger had touched her. “I feel —
grumpfff.”

Jeff put his hand over her mouth. “Shhh.”

“Ohhh!” A low groaning sound came from inside the beach house. Then, the shuffling of feet.

“It's them!” hissed Jeff. “They're already in the beach house! We're surrounded by an army of undead living zombie corpses!”

An instant later —
flam!
— a white door flashed open in front of the kids.

Liz's heart froze.

7

The Mark of the Zombie!

A tall figure appeared in the shadowy doorway. It breathed out loud. “Hmmm?”

“Principal Bell!” shouted Liz, recognizing the man stepping out of the public rest room.

“Yes, Miss Duffey!” the tall man boomed, shuffling out under the party lights. “And what are you young students doing at the
beach,
hmm? There are only a few more weeks in my summer reading program! Where, oh where, are your stacks of books?”

“Um, Mr. Bell,” said Holly, rubbing her forehead. “Out there … on the sand … we saw …”

“Yes?” he said, peering down toward the beach. “That's not the way to the library.”

“Zombies!”
Liz burst out. “Flaky, ugly skin!”

Principal Bell's eyebrows shot up, then he smiled. “Ho-ho! You must mean Miss Krafnutter, bless her soul. One hundred and four years old and every minute spent in the sun!”

“No!” insisted Liz, her voice trembling. “Zombies. Attack zombies. Commandos!”

“From Mars!” Jeff cried.

“They surf, too,” Holly added.

Principal Bell stepped off the porch and walked out onto the sand. He peered first one way then another. Liz followed his gaze. The beach was deserted. No army of undead living zombie corpses. Not a single one!

“Wait a second —” Liz started.

“Tut-tut,” boomed the principal, frowning a terrible frown upon the children. “Year-round school. That's what you youngsters need. Builds team spirit! Now, off with you, or I'll call your parents. Shoo!”

He strode away over the nearest dune, a little white slip of bathroom tissue trailing behind one of his socked and sandaled feet.

An instant later, the beach was empty as far as the eye could see. Totally deserted.

“Guys, we've got to warn people about the zombies,” said Liz, finally letting out a breath.

“Wait,” Holly whined. She rubbed her forehead some more. “Is there a dot?” She pushed her forehead out for Liz and Jeff to look at.

Liz stared closely at the dark, flaky smudge above Holly's left eyebrow. She didn't like the look of it at all. But her best friend seemed scared. “Just a little dot, Holly.” She nudged Jeff.

“Right,” said Jeff, nodding really big and backing away. “Not much at all.”

Holly rubbed her head harder. “I feel weird.”

“Well, you're in the right place for it,” said Liz, scanning the quiet beach. “Let's get going.”

“But what if we're too late?” asked Jeff. “What if zombies have already snacked on the town?”

“Only one way to find out,” said Liz. She ran through the clubhouse and out the front door.

They only stopped when they reached Main Street. People were walking around as if they didn't know alien zombies were after their brains. The Double Dunk Donut Den clock said nearly noon.

“Looks normal,” said Jeff.

“Maybe we just imagined it all?” Holly said quietly, trying to smile. “Maybe it'll all be okay.”

Liz shook her head. “Sure, and I'm Glinda, the good witch. Those zombies are here, all right. They're in the alleys and back streets. They're in the shadows and around the corners. They're with us!”

Jeff looked in every direction. “You're being spooky, Liz. I don't like it when you're spooky.”

She stepped slowly down the street. Jeff followed closely behind her. Holly was last.

“These weird dudes came out of the lake, right?” Liz said. “But how did they get there? They look yucky, like zombies, but they're not everyday regular zombies. They're — ”

“From Mars!” Holly cut in. “And it's the air here that makes their skin all flaky and dead!”

Liz stopped and turned to her best friend with the dot on her head. “How do you know that?”

Holly wrinkled her forehead. “I don't know, I just do.”

“Maybe that's why they need brains to survive,” Jeff said. “Because of the air.
Fresh brains are good for what ails us.
They sang that, right?”

“And they put a dot on us,” Holly began to whine, “when they want to eat our kid brains.”

“Just a little dot,” said Liz, nudging Jeff again.

“Not much at all,” Jeff said.

“Home,” said Holly. “I want to go home.”

“Good idea,” said Liz. “Maybe our parents can help!”

They ran without stopping until they reached Holly's house. Liz and Jeff followed Holly in.

Mrs. Vickers was in the kitchen, wearing a yellow apron and green oven mitts. The room smelled of cookies baking. “Dear, your face is dirty!” she gasped at Holly's smudged forehead.

“Zombies, Mom,” Holly mumbled, yawning. “They want to eat my brain.”

Mrs. Vickers frowned, turned down the oven, then removed her mitts. “You know what your father always says —
a brain is a terrible thing to taste.
Oh! Such a funny man!”

Holly nodded. “I'm really sleepy. Can I take a nap?” That was it. Holly shuffled from the kitchen down a hall to her room. She closed her door.

Mrs. Vickers turned and smiled. “Oh, well. Cookies anyone?”

Liz's brain began to buzz. “Um, no thanks, Mrs. Vickers.” She pulled Jeff out the door to the Vickers' front yard. “Jeff, I think we need experts. Jeff?”

But Jeff just hunched over the sidewalk and stared at the cracks between his feet.

“Jeff? You okay?” Liz asked.

Suddenly, he slapped his cheeks. “What do they want?” he screamed. “Why are they here? Why us? What's going to happen?” He buried his head in his hands. “It doesn't make sense!”

Liz patted Jeff on the shoulder. She knew the feeling. She'd lived a lifetime trying to figure out why things didn't make sense.

She wondered for a second if Jeff would really get it together when things got tough. She decided he would, but he'd need some help.

She took a breath, and she began to sing.

Hey, my friend, don't worry,
   Life can sting sometimes.
Like juice gets in a hangnail,
   When you squeeze ripe limes.
      But if you take my haaaaaand
      Life can be so graaaaaaaaand!

“Sorry,” said Liz. “The zombies made me feel musical.”

Jeff smiled a weak smile at her. “Thanks. It worked. I do feel better.” He looked up at the silver radar dish spinning on his roof two streets away. “My dad's home. He'll help us. Come on!”

They took the corner of Maple and Elm at full speed, and ran for Jeff's house on Birch Street.

Liz looked around as she ran. In the distance, she saw the Plan Nine Drive-in. Mr. Vickers was moving the floodlights for tonight's big premiere.

An image flashed into her mind. Last week's opening night. Lights flooding the dark sky. To bring in out of towners to see the movie.

Something oozed in her mind.
Out of towners?
Maybe the lights
did
work. “Jeff. When did they find that spot on Mars?”

“A few dogs — I mean — a few days ago,” Jeff said.

Clouds drifted across the giant July sun. A breeze swept in. Suddenly Liz's brain clicked.

“The Martians saw the lights! That's why they're here! And they surfed out of the lake — ”

Before she could finish, she heard something.

Tap-tappa-tap. Tappa-tappa-tap.

Bongo drums.

8

Alone!

“Zombies!” screeched Liz. “Ruuunnnn!”

The kids shot off as if they had rockets on their feet. A second later the street behind them was filled with a groaning band of Martian zombies!

“OHHHHHHH!”
the zombies moaned. Leading them was knob-face, the tall creature with the pulsing forehead. He gestured once and the Martians grunted and charged after the kids.

“Uh-oh!” yelled Jeff. “They're doing that commando thing again!”

Jeff and Liz tore off between two houses. All the while the zombies were gurgling really dumb words —

We don't ride planes,
We don't take trains,
We don't need canes,
We have no veins,
We just eat brains!
   That's right, uh-huh,
We just eat braaaaaaains!

“Boy, where do they come up with those words?” Jeff huffed, running for a low hedge.

But Liz took a shortcut across the Sweeneys' front corner. Their sprinkler was on.

“Hey, you!” Mr. Sweeney cried from the door as Liz trampled the grass. “My lawn! My lawn!”

But she couldn't stop to explain. Not with zombies after her!

Suddenly, she slipped on the wet grass, and took a spill. Jeff leaped over the far hedge. Knob-face called out commands to the commandos and they split into two squads, one going after Jeff while the other shuffled after Liz.

“Run, Jeff!” Liz shouted as she tried to escape down Oak Lane. She ran panting to her front door, tumbled in, and slammed it behind her.

Still the zombies came. Liz leaped to a window. She saw knob-face motioning for his creatures to surround the entire house.

“Mom!” Liz screamed out. No answer.

She ran from room to room, shouting.

“Mom! Mom!”

No answer.

Of course! Her mother was at work. It was lunchtime. She owned a restaurant! Where else would she be? Outside, the horrible creatures began pounding on the windows.

“No!” Liz scrambled to the phone on the kitchen counter. The red light on the answering machine was blinking. Liz pressed the button.

Beep
went the machine. “Hi, honey,” began her mother's voice. “I'll be at the Diner all day today waiting for cold cuts. Hope you're having fun. Love you!”
Beep.

Liz fumbled for the phone. She dialed the number. It began to ring.

Suddenly —
boom! Boom! Boom!
The zombies were hurling themselves at the doors.

“Mom!”

“Hi, dear,” her mother answered. “Did you -”