Free The Zombie Chasers #4 by John Kloepfer Page B

Ozzie tightened the reins to steer the horse back on track, but just then one of the zombie clown’s long wooden stilts slipped between the spokes in the wheel of the carriage.
    The buggy flipped and sent them all spinning through the air in what seemed like slow motion. Zack opened his eyes mid-somersault and caught a clear view of the moon, now free of the clouds, hanging low in the starry sky. Before he could look anywhere else, Zack belly-flopped into the pond with Rice screaming, “Cowabunga!”
    Kersplash! Madison and Zoe both cannonballed into the water with a double plunk, and the undead stilt-walking clown plunked into the water after them.
    Zack rose out of the rippling water, gasping for air. He was drenched and covered in green algae. Madison and Zoe brushed pond scum out of their hair.
    As they waded back to dry land, Rice did a quick head count. “Where’s Ozzie?”
    Zack pointed across the green to the detached horse galloping away from the wreckage of the carriage. Ozzie was nowhere to be seen.
    â€œOMG!” Madison gasped. “Twinkles! Where’s Twinkles!”
    â€œTween-kles!” Rice called. “Ozz-eee!” He looked down at his shoeless foot. “Hey! What happened to my sneaker?”
    Zack looked down at his mismatched footwear. “Sorry, man. You owed me one.”
    The Central Park riffraff prowled along the greens, swarms and swarms of zombie creeps teetering toward them in an unrelenting torrent of tooth and claw.
    There was nowhere to hide. They had to get out of the park, with or without Ozzie and Twinkles.

Z ack, Madison, Zoe, and Rice jogged down a dark side street on the Upper East Side, soaking wet from the pond in Central Park.
    Brownstones and tenements lined both sides of the block. The fire escapes on the front of the apartment buildings looked like Zs stacked on top of one another.
    â€œWe have to find Twinkles,” Madison said, her puppy-dog eyes welling up with tears.
    â€œMore important,” said Rice, “we’ve got to find Ozzie. There’s no way we’re leaving him!”
    â€œBut first,” Zack called to them, “we need to find some wheels. . . .”
    A short way down the next block they spotted a row of unchained bicycles belonging to a crew of zombified food delivery guys. The undead delivery dudes crisscrossed, tottering slantwise around their bikes. As Rice and the girls scoped out their wheels, Zack locked eyes with one of the zombie brutes, who grunted and licked his gangrenous chops. All at once, three of his rezombified buddies turned, casting their dead-eyed gazes on their brain-nuggety prey. The undead clan of bike messengers lurched slowly toward them. Something foul oozed from one of their eye sockets like egg yolk.
    â€œOkay, guys, one, two, three!” Zack, Rice, Zoe, and Madison bum-rushed the zombified delivery guys. Zack swung a surviving umbrella and hooked a lanky zombie by the neck. He followed through and the undead beast slammed to the ground with a dull splat. Rice ran behind the zombified goon with the dribbling eyeball and crouched behind his knees. Madison sprinted and lowered her shoulder into the zombie’s waist. The undead brain glutton tripped over Rice and hit the cement hard with the back of his skull. Zoe took a run and knocked out the remaining two of the mutant chowhounds with a jab-hook combo. The flesh-eating hellions tottered, swaying slightly before they both dropped to the pavement.

    â€œI don’t want to toot my own horn,” Zoe said, making a muscle and kissing her biceps, “but I’m really good at this.”
    Zack rolled his eyes and snagged a delivery bike, then took off, worming his way through the Big Apple.
    â€œOzzie!” Rice and Zack chanted as they weaved in and out of zombie foot traffic. “Ozz-eeee!”
    â€œTwinkles!” Madison shouted, her voice trembling with worry. “Twinkles!”
    But all they