Free Flesh of the Zombie by Tommy Donbavand Page A

all,” shivered Cleo as the creatures stumbled around the garden. One of them staggered past her and landed with a splash in Dr Skully’s pond. Tiny skeletal fish darted for cover in the reeds.
    “Will somebody please put a stop to this nonsense?” demanded Dr Skully.
    Resus approached the zombie nearest to him. “I think you’ve got the wrong address,” he said, speaking loudly and slowly. “The only zombies in Scream Street live at number twenty-eight!”
    “You think they’re friends of Doug, Turf and Berry?” asked Luke.
    Resus shrugged. “Either that or they’re tunnelling north for the summer.”
    “Brain drain! Brain drain!” murmured the zombie.
    “You’re not draining
my
brain!” shouted Cleo, backing away. A pair of grey scabby arms grabbed the mummy and the one-eyed zombie lifted her off her feet. Cleo squealed.
    “Put her down,” Luke ordered. The grey zombie squeezed Cleo tighter.
    “Brain drain! Brain drain!”
    “I said, put her down!” yelled Luke.
    “Luke, behind you!” shouted Cleo.
    Luke turned to find another zombie almost upon him. Snatching up Dr Skully’s spine from where it lay on the lawn, he hit the creature full in the face, knocking its head clean off its shoulders. The body collapsed to the ground, arms and legs twitching wildly.
    “That’ll teach you to
lumbar
after me,” quipped Luke, grinning at his own joke and turning to give Resus a high-five.
    “But I don’t get it,” said the vampire, shaking his head. “Zombies don’t normally act like this.”
    “Then we’ve obviously been watching different movies!”
    “No, I mean, something’s got them worked up. They’re usually quite docile.”
    “Yeah,” said Luke sarcastically. “Remind me to get one as a pet when this is over.”
    “When you two have finished chatting,” called Cleo, wriggling under the grasp of the grey zombie, “can I remind you that I’m currently having the life squeezed out of me?”
    “OK,” sighed Resus, beginning to search hiscloak again. He produced a flaming torch, which he jabbed at the zombie over Cleo’s shoulder.
    “Mind my bandages,” squealed Cleo. “You’ll scorch them.”
    “Pardon me for saving you,” snapped Resus, pushing the torch into the zombie’s chest. “Now, get behind me!” he yelled as the creature released the mummy and began to bat furiously at the flames.
    Luke and Cleo fell into position behind Resus as he kept the zombies at bay with the length of burning wood.
    “Brain drain! Brain drain!”
    “They’re everywhere!” exclaimed Cleo, glancing over the fence to see four more zombies fighting their way out of next door’s flower-bed.
    “How do we get out of here?” asked Luke.
    “I think we might have to call on your furry friend,” suggested Resus.
    Luke sighed. His capacity to change into a werewolf was what had brought his family to Scream Street in the first place. Now he was in the middle of a quest that would enable him to take his parents home, and he wasn’t going to jeopardize it by using his powers to attack anyone.
    “I won’t hurt people,” he said quietly.
    “You can’t hurt them,” retorted Resus. “They’re dead!”
    “No,” said Luke. “They’re
undead
, and from what I’ve seen around here, that’s a small but vital difference.”
    “You
find us a way out, then, Mr Kind-and-Caring,” said Resus.
    “Hang on,” said Luke. “Can anyone else hear music?”
    As they all stopped to listen, the sound of a pounding drumbeat and matching bass line echoed out across Scream Street. “Where’s it coming from?” asked Cleo.
    “They
seem to know,” said Luke as the zombies suddenly lost interest in the trio and turned to face the source of the music. Slowly they lurched out of the garden towards Scream Street’s central square.
    “Brain drain! Brain drain!”
    “Something strange is going on,” said Resus. “We’d better get to the square and find out what.”
    “I’ll meet you there,” said Luke.