Free Zombie Town by R.L. Stine Page B

after row of empty seats. This isn’t just weird, I thought. It’s wrong. Something is wrong.
    And then I heard it. A low, creaking sound. The creaking grew louder.
    I jumped up when I heard a crash. “What was that?” I gasped.
    “I see it! A zombie!” Karen screamed. “Run! Run for your life!”
    “Where? Where?” I cried.
    She laughed. “Chill, Mike. That was the door closing. That’s all.”
    I stared over my shoulder. Karen was right. Someone had closed the door. Now the auditorium was even darker. I sank back into my seat. “We’re still the only ones here.”
    “So what?” Karen asked.
    “It doesn’t make any sense, that’s what!” I cried. “This is the most popular movie in the country. We’re all alone in here. Where is everybody?”
    “Who cares?” Karen shoved a handful of buttery popcorn into her mouth. “It’s cool that nobody’s here,” she mumbled, chomping down another handful of popcorn. “We have the whole place to ourselves.”
    I didn’t want the whole place to ourselves. I didn’t want to be here at all. “I’m getting a really creepy feeling, Karen. I think we…”
    “Quiet,” she whispered. “It’s starting!”
    The lights dimmed completely. After a few seconds, some shadowy shapes began moving across the screen. Soft, eerie moaning sounds came from the speakers.
    No commercials? I thought. No previews of other movies? What’s going on here?
    Then I heard voices. Kid’s voices.
    The screen grew a little brighter. Three kids about my age were walking through a park, laughing and kidding each other. One of them dropped his backpack. Papers and notebooks spilled out. The kids stopped to pick them up.
    The moaning grew louder, but the kids didn’t notice it. The camera shifted to a grove of bushes behind them.
    My heart began to pound.
    The bushes rustled. A hand pushed the branches aside. A human hand, with black dirt under long, ragged fingernails.
    Black dirt—from the grave.
    I cringed as an ugly face peered out from the bushes. Then another one. And another.
    The faces had green skin. And one of them had grime all over its nose. Then, as they gazed at the kids, I noticed something.
    The nose wasn’t grimy. It was missing. The zombie had a gaping black hole in the middle of his face.
    It’s only make-up, I reminded myself. It’s only a movie!
    The zombies began to make grunting noises.
    Hungry grunting noises.
    Karen poked me in the side. “Get ready,” she whispered. “They’re about to eat their first victims. They have to keep eating people to stay alive, you know.”
    “Don’t remind me,” I muttered. I clutched the arms of my seat.
    The zombies shoved the bushes aside and staggered into the open. The camera closed in on the noseless zombie’s face.
    As he gazed hungrily at the kids, one of his eyeballs slid out of the socket.
    My stomach flipped over. Oh, man! I thought. Why did I ever let Karen talk me into this?
    On the screen, the kids turned their heads. Their eyes grew wide with horror. The zombies loomed over them, moaning and smacking their rotted, swollen lips.
    I knew what was coming. And I didn’t want to see it. As the kids screamed in terror, I squeezed my eyes shut.
    A piercing shriek rang out.
    I started to cover my ears, but the shriek suddenly stopped. Then I heard a sputtering noise, sort of like a piece of plastic fluttering in the wind.
    I opened my eyes, just a slit.
    Huh? The screen had gone dark.
    I glanced around.
    Except for the dim red glow of the exit sign, the theater was dark.
    Dark and totally silent.

“I don’t believe it!” Karen cried.
    “What?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
    “Didn’t you hear that sputtering sound?” she replied. “It was the film flapping around. The projector broke.”
    “Oh. Too bad,” I lied. Secretly, I felt relieved. Now I wouldn’t have to see the rest of the film. “I guess we’d better go.”
    “No way. The movie just started,” Karen declared. “They’ll fix it.