Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Zombie Slayer
By Nick Pawluk, Creator of the iPhone App Hollyweird
2
Copyright © 2011 by Nick Pawluk and Rusty Fischer
This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, places and events
portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or, if
3
Authors’ Note:
The following is a FREE living dead short story written in conjunction with the
Any errors, typos, grammar or spelling issues are completely the fault of the living
dead.
Anyway, we hope you can overlook any minor errors you may find; enjoy!
4
The Adventures of Holly Weird, Zombie Slayer
I open Bliss in the dark; I don’t need to see her anymore to know which
They are big and let’s face it, I’m far from it, but with zombies it’s not
These two are faster than most, but they eat too many human brains to be
human themselves.
As for me, well, I’m a strict carnivore; it’s only animal brains for me,
and from the UCLA medical lab at that – no wild animals were harmed in my
It keeps me more human than most; and out here on the street, I need all
5
There is an empty cigarette pack on the edge of the playground; I step on
The bigger one is; he turns around, dead eyes black and full of rage as he
“Run, Percy,” I say to the tall, bony teen clinging desperately to the
jungle gym.
The Zannibals hesitate, not sure whether to focus on dinner or… dessert.
“Fancy meeting you here, Holly,” grunts the big one familiarly.
I’ve heard the others call him “Grinder”; from the looks of his headstone
“Where’d you think I’d be, fellas? Having tea with the queen?”
The smaller one, though he’s far from small, croaks, “It’s not fair of you
I rack my brain and finally come up with a name for this one, too: Stain.
It fits as well, thanks to the garish black spot that covers half his left
6
“Fair?” I blurt, keeping the switchblade I call “Bliss” slid into my back
belt loop so they can see I have nothing in my hands. “That what you call
“You know the rules, Holly,” says Grinder, advancing an inch without
really looking like he’s moving. “If no one’ll miss ‘em, then they’re fair
game.”
human beings, but any rule that calls living people ‘fair game’ is made to be
broken.”
“You know what else is made to be broken, Holly?” asks Grinder, being
sssssoooooooo obvious.
The Zannibals look at each other and I take the moment to spring
forward, liberating Bliss from the small of my back and grabbing her fiercely
in my left hand.
Stain lifts his hand up instinctively; it’s big and blotchy and gray and all
kinds of huge.
Huge enough for me to slice off the first three fingers the blade touches;
7
Stain growls; that’s what Zannibals do.
The minute they’re faced with a foe, or even something they like, such
as eating some random homeless kid’s brain, for instance – they growl; pure
animal behavior.
I tumble just beyond them, right hand gripping the jungle gym and
That’s the good thing about being a small zombie; you can go where the
It’s just out of reach for the Zannibals, and doubly so for poor Stain who
Grinder’s face is a mask of anger and rage; the two primary Zannibal
emotions.
I walk above them, stepping carefully from rusty metal bar to bar in my
Grinder steps on the far side, Stain the left; God, they’re so stupid!
The minute they’re halfway up I slip down between the middle bars,
landing safely on the tarmac and rushing Grinder’s legs as he quickly begins to
descend.
8
Before he can hit the ground I slide Bliss through both his Achilles
Sure, my life might be more fun if I didn’t spend two nights a week
sharpening Bliss for hours on end, but then I couldn’t do things like that now,
could I?
He doesn’t groan, but he drops like a lead balloon and can’t stand up;
Stain growls, howls is more like it, and rushes me with all the force of a
I stand just out of Grinder’s swiping, massive paws and crouch, waiting
momentum, I juke just slow enough to the left for him to readjust his course;
then I zag to the right and, when he’s turning his head to find me, slice through
There is no blood to avoid or stain my smoky gray hoodie; only the soft,
crawls my way.
9
I’m tempted to leave him like that; just… walk away and never look
back.
But I’ve tried that before; the big, dramatic movie moment that feels so
Some Zannibal you spare for whatever reason – because you think
they’re useless, because you think they’re done – always comes back to haunt
you when it’s too late to discover that they’re not so useless or done after all.
“You don’t have to do this,” Grinder croaks, not quite begging but as
“It’s not what you can do to me,” I grunt, stepping on each hand and
taking his greasy, straw blonde hair in my fingers. “It’s what you did to my
mother.”
“You fool,” he croaks as I touch the pointed blade under his ear. “How
long are you going to carry this grudge, Holly? Especially when she’s still—”
Bliss stops his tongue from moving the minute it severs his head from
his neck.
“What did you just say?” I ask his lifeless lips, wishing I hadn’t been so
10
He was probably only talking trash anyway, I figure, sliding one arm out
Inside is one of those fold-up shovels like the Army uses; I unfold it and
start digging a grave big enough, and deep enough, to hold these two without
Percy shuffles over about halfway through the dirty, dirty job and I
smirk, handing him the shovel and stepping out of the three-foot by five foot
hold.
“Tag,” I chuckle, rubbing his curly blond hair and watching him smirk.
“You’re it!”
“I would have stayed away longer if I’d known you weren’t through
yet,” he groans, making quick work of another two feet of ground with his
I stop him when it’s deep enough and sit on the edge of a nearby merry-
He lopes over on his long, gangly legs and does what he’s told.
11
“This morning?” he asks/answers as I offer him the second bar.
I wink and say, “You’re going to need your energy, Percy; our job’s only
half done.”
“What were you doing out here anyway, Percy? You know it’s past
He shrugs and looks down at his own battered sneakers, the candy bar
“Not somebody,” he grunts, kicking at dirt with the toe of his shoe.
“Somebod-ies.”
ends together and flashing them under the moonlight, just to make him feel
better.
12
He snorts and says, “Why do you call it that, anyway?”
I shrug, flip her closed again and slide her back in my pocket. “Because
that’s how it makes me feel to kill those guys, Percy; blissful. Now, come on;
*****
“You decent?” asks Percy as he pads out of the shower stall on bare feet,
“As decent as I’m getting for you,” I snark, boiling two packets of
He slips into a clean wife beater and a pair of baggy boxers from my
Lost and Found box and slinks over to me in his flapping purple flip-flops, also
“Yumm,” he says, sitting on a barstool and draining half the soda I’d
poured for him while he was in the shower. “Is that the spicy kind?”
13
He yawns and puts his sharp chin on one rosy palm.
“Hey,” he says as I dish the noodles and water into the giant black bowl
in front of him. “Can you stand in front of me? I like to read while I eat?”
body.
Half of them are visible now, even with my black yoga pants and
I sigh and stand there while he eats, giant green eyes exploring the
shoulder blade.
I don’t have to try and look over my shoulder to know which one he’s
referring to.
“My boyfriend at the time liked classic literature. That’s Moby Dick.”
He shakes his head and says, “I know you’re a zombie, Holly, but… just
14
“A woman never tells,” I sigh, cracking a can of generic soda and
I pace the warehouse loft as he eats, wired from the run-in with those
creepy Zannibals.
“You’ll have to be extra careful from now on, Percy,” I say as he washes
“You can stay tonight, Percy,” I say apologetically, patting the single cot
in the middle of the vast warehouse space. “I wish you could stay longer but…
in case those Zannibals ever track me down one day, I don’t want them to find
“Why do you have such a bug up your butt about those guys anyway,
Holly?” he yawns, fluffing the starchy white pillow beneath his curly blond
“Besides the fact that they prey on the homeless kids of Hollywood, you
mean?”
15
He nods, yanking the covers up to his bony, pimply chin.
He shakes his head and I say, for about the 100th time to the 100th
agent’s office, high in the Hollywood Hills. His name was Frost, just one word;
sounded so cool, you know? We were new in town, this was ages ago, and we
didn’t know any better. We never told my Dad about it; he would have warned
us against it. Anyway, the address was this grand old mansion. It was terribly
derelict, no water in the fountain, weeds overgrown, but that only added to the
charm.
“Frost said I was beautiful, but too young for the role he was looking to
fill. He asked Mom to read for the part instead, but insisted she do it… in
private. That was okay; sure, I was disappointed but also… I was so excited for
her. And she was beautiful, too. Anyway, I stayed behind. There were all these
“Like tonight,” Percy croaks, eyes half-lidded with a fully belly and a
warm bed. “With those creepy Zannibals who were going to suck on my brain
16
“Just like tonight,” I nod. “Anyway, we stayed outside Frost’s den, the
bodyguards and me, and he took my mom inside. I was bored, started walking
around the grand ballroom a while. The bodyguards followed. I hadn’t strayed
too far when I heard screaming; I ran for my mom, but the bodyguards caught
“They weren’t bodyguards, were they Holly?” Percy asks, eyes closed
I shake my head but he doesn’t see so I say, “No, Percy, they most
He hears the tone in my voice, the fear still fresh after all these years,
and opens his big green eyes wide. “They were… zombies?”
“They were Zannibals, Percy. I’m a zombie, and you don’t need me to
tell you the difference after all this time on the streets.”
He nods and the stiff white pillowcase rustles against his curly blond
hair.
“I passed out, after they bit me; that happens, for a few minutes or so
after they turn you. It’s kind of like your body’s switching over from manual to
17
He smiles, softly, revealing crooked, yellow teeth. “Or like when your
+. “Anyway, when I came to again, they were dragging Mom off; in pieces. I
“Once I figured out who I was, or what I was, I haunted that old
mansion. Turns out it was the Zannibals’ hideout. They’d place ads in the trade
papers, and stupid young girls like me would step right off the bus and head
into the Hills for their ‘big shot’ at fame and fortune.
“The Zannibals either ate them, like my Mom, or turned them, like me.
Anyway, I followed Frost and the bodyguards for weeks; there were no
Hollywood Hills, carrying two cans of gasoline. I started one fire in the four-
car garage and, while the Zannibals were fighting that, another in Frost’s
office; the mansion went up in flames. It was on the news and everything since
“Really?” Percy asks, like this is the best part of the story for him!
18
Percy snorts, no doubt recalling the run-in with Grinder and Stain from
I rise from the hard back chair next to his cot and begin pacing the
*****
I feed Percy some generic Pop Tarts when he gets up the next morning,
hand him a few crumpled bills and one of the individually wrapped
“Check in with me tonight,” I say, following him out into the harsh LA
sunlight.
19
I listen carefully in his wake, eager for the sounds of footsteps other
than his.
Like me, Zannibals don’t need sleep; but that doesn’t mean they like to
Of course, it’s harder for them to blend in; they look like zombies.
Me?
Well, with the ink and the makeup and the Goth wear, I pretty much
look like just another Hollywood Boulevard tramp, trolling the boulevard for
Instead I hit up the usual spots, checking on “my kids” as I like to call
them.
can’t afford more than that or, if they can, they’re saving up their money for
They’re a ragtag bunch, one boy and three girls, all ripe with street sweat
and nicotine fumes, all in clothes either way too big, or way too small for them.
“What’s up, Holly Weird?” says one of them, the tallest, a towering
20
“Same reason you call my Chipmunk, Holly Weird,” she explains.
“Because it fits.”
“Yeah,” says another, a short, plump kid called Raver. “You’re cool, but
there’s something… off… about you, too. Like, cool off, but still… off. So
zombie.
Only Percy knows my real secret; and the less these kids know, the
better!
I make sure they’re okay, ask them if they’ve seen any weirdoes dressed
in black lately and, when they’re all smiles and shaking their heads ‘no,’ order
them another round of pancakes – chocolate chip this time – and move on.
They bang their appreciation with greasy hands on the big window by
Even through the glass I can hear them shouting, “Thanks, Holly Weird”
in unison.
There are more stops on the way as noon switches to afternoon, and
afternoon to evening.
21
Next up is the liquor store, where I catch a few of my regular kids
Then there’s the crowded, hustling bodega on Vine Street, where I buy
them all Slim Jims and Red Bulls just to make sure they’ve eaten something
today.
Theater, hustling the tourists while pretending to be pirates from the latest
Only thing is, they’re not dressing up; they just generally look like little
scamps 24/7/365.
buy them anything; just ask if they’ve seen anything that’s strange – you know,
When they smile and shake their heads, running after a Japanese couple
before any of the other comically-clad “superheroes” can get to them, I turn
22
A blinking neon sign spells out S-T-A-I-N-E-D one letter after the other,
night or day.
I walk inside, hearing the blare of heavy metal music on the cheap radio
over the cash register as I marvel, once more, at the thousands of snapshots of
An old man, 79 if he’s a day, sits over a series of half-empty ink pots,
refilling them with trembling hands in anticipation of the long, busy night
ahead.
“You never came home last night,” I tell him, grabbing a soda from the
I grab something for him, too; he looks a little… shaky… if you know
what I mean.
He gives me that lurid wink of his and says, “What can I say, darlin’?
When the last customer of the night insists on making you breakfast the next
“Dad,” I sigh, handing him a tall can of cheap, domestic beer to steady
his nerves. “How am I supposed to protect you if I don’t know where you are?”
“Protect me from what?” he croaks, opening the can as foam sprays one
23
It’s unbuttoned over a stained wife beater tank top, bulging at the middle
Dad came back from Vietnam, but it was like he never left.
Mom says between the Army surplus hand grenades, flame throwers and
rifles he kept in the shed out behind our humble Hollywood apartment, she was
always afraid of getting blown up every time she reached for the potting soil!
His skin is leathery from the sun, a salt and pepper beard scratchy over
his wattled neck and his own string of tattoos, stretching from his neck to his
toes.
His thinning hair is greasy and short, but his skin – like mine – tells the
Me?
Held a steady job inking cells for some downtown movie studio that
24
He called it “moving on.”
I was his first customer; and his second… and his third.
Since then, he’s never looked back and I’ve pretty much been on my
own.
I sigh and sit down in his chair, waiting for him to fill his ink pots.
“Two,” I say, giving him time to finish his beer so he doesn’t flub up my
latest tats.
I roll up my black yoga pants, revealing a long, white leg filled with
names; cursive names, all of them inked by Dad, all of them commemorating
He sighs, crumples up his empty beer can and tosses it in the trash by his
“Grinder. Stain.”
I don’t feel the pain of the needle, only its vibrations in my very bones.
25
In a way, getting a tattoo – that piercing, buzzing, trembling feeling – is
The hidden meanings of this rose or that quote, of this face or that
Now they mean only that I look like half of Hollywood; dark and
“That’s still my favorite,” Dad croaks, and only then do I realize his
His thick finger is surprisingly gentle as it traces the deep, dark tribal
ring that surrounds my wrist; only he could spot it, so entwined is it with the
skulls and barbed wire and bright red rose tattoos that litter my forearm and the
sets outside his open shop door. “It’s a birthmark, not a tattoo.”
26
I smirk. “Mom always said she’d tell me what it meant when I got
older.”
His eyes get moist, if not exactly watery as he looks away, suddenly.
It hides another steel gate, this one sealed tight with a lock all day, all
night, long.
Inside is his weapons stash; some sawed off shotguns, boxes of bullets,
Most of them are relics, all of them necessary in this part of town.
(Okay, so maybe not the flame thrower, but… Waddya gonna do, right?)
Dad says all Vietnam vets have a stash; Mom said they all had a
Just as I go to pop the top the door fills with a tall, thin shadow; Percy.
notice the ring of dark sweat around his faded collar. “Come quick! The
27
“What?” I stammer, standing up as Dad shifts slightly to avoid spilling
his beer. “I thought I told you to stay away from there, Percy.”
“I was going to,” he says, standing in the doorway, antsy to leave. “But I
stashed my backpack there before the Zannibals cornered me last night and I
I look back at Dad and he waves me off, a wry smile on his face as I
follow Percy out onto the Hollywood Boulevard and the ebb and flow of
human traffic.
Dad knows what I’m up to; he’s happy someone’s there to look out for
the kids, but not so happy I’m still chasing the Zannibals all these years after
small feat seeing as his legs are about twice as long as mine and, you know,
“It was just a few of them,” he says, expertly passing through the short
cuts and dark alleys behind the façade of Hollywood Boulevard’s scenic hot
spots. “They were digging up their pals, you know, Grinder and Stain, but then
“How many Zannibals does it take to dig up a few body parts?” I ask.
28
We’re almost there and I pause when he says, “I don’t think the
reinforcements were just for a few zombie heads, Holly. I think… I think…
The playground is sad and angry at the same time; dead trees and rusty
swing sets, a place no good mother would ever take her child.
That’s why it’s so popular with homeless kids like Percy and, of course,
Zannibals looking for a quick and easy midnight snack no good mother would
ever miss.
“Here,” I grunt, stopping him by the water fountain near the restrooms.
“Good spot for what?” he asks, resisting only barely when I drag him
*****
29
“Go already,” I hiss, standing on top of a sink and staring out a thin,
grimy window at the still deserted gravesite of Grinder and Stain. “It’s not like
“Yeah but…” Percy wavers, one foot in the nearest stall, one foot out.
I roll my eyes and turn back away as he finally relieves his bladder in a
symphony of disgusting male noises that don’t end until he flushes some two
minutes later.
When he’s through, and I’m thoroughly grossed out, he joins me, feet in
earth.
Suddenly Percy hears it, too, and leans in close to his own grimy
From the brush emerge five Zannibals, two on lookout, three with
30
We watch as the Zannibals spread out, looking high and low for me, or
Percy, or perhaps just some random homeless kid too strung out or hungry to
run.
When they’ve sniffed around long enough – thank god this bathroom
smells like the bowels of hell to begin with and they can’t get a good whiff of
Percy’s pumping blood – the three Zannibals begin digging up their long lost
friends.
“How can we not have killed this witch by now?” asks one of the
lookouts, pacing restlessly in his black cargo pants and matching hoodie.
Several of them grunt, and if I still had hackles they’d be raised by now.
“She still blames us for killing her stupid mother,” cackles another,
“One of us should tell Frost,” grunts one more, shovel resting in the
dark, loamy soil. “He’s gonna be ticked when he hears what happened to
“You tell him if you’re so brave. You want him to think some chick’s
Percy snickers quietly, shifting his big green eyes my way. “That’s you
they’re talking about,” he says so quietly even I can barely hear him.
31
At last the Zannibals have dug up their friends, bagged them in giant
I tap Percy on the shoulder and have him follow me back down onto the
“You go back to Stained and spend the night with my Dad if you’re not
feeling great about the shelter,” I say urgently, inching toward the door.
“I want to see where they’re going. See what my old friend Frost is up
He scuffs his feet on the damp bathroom floor but I’m already off and
away, clutching Bliss in my left hand and grateful I’d worn my sneakers for my
I hang back far enough to make sure that all five are clustered together,
weighed down by their canvas bags, and that none have slipped behind me for
a tidy ambush.
They tramp through the brush, the sound of traffic on distant Hollywood
32
They emerge in a dusty culvert with no trees for cover, but cross it
quickly and inch into the Hollywood Hills, disappearing into another tree line
I dart across the dry scrub land and follow them once more as they skirt
Bliss is eager and ready but it’s not the Zannibals I’m after this time; it’s
Frost himself.
I wonder how long they’ve been at this one and, more importantly, how
They are large and hulking, dressed all in black, making their pale,
deadly faces stand out all the more as they cluster, slack-jawed.
They gather in the courtyard, sliding a decrepit fountain to one side and
33
I roll my eyes and lean against a crooked tree trunk, glowering as at last
the man himself strides from two French doors that open onto the main
courtyard.
The entire affair is walled for privacy, but the hills around afford me an
eagle’s eye view as I peer down past the nearest wall and into the tiled
courtyard.
Frost is tall and angular, old but not elderly; his silver mane is long and
It was short when he killed my mother; short and neat, and he didn’t
He wears all black, natch, save for a midnight blue silk shirt under his
In his hand is a long, black cane with a silver tip; beneath his hand is
Instead I fondle Bliss’s handle and prepare for the moment I can slice his
Not yet, though; right now, I am hungry for more than vengeance.
34
I feel drained and slightly weak from another long week of watching
But after scrounging for sugar in my backpack I find only breath mints
and gum.
I down them all quickly and then sniff out the nearest squirrel.
I sit quietly, two gumballs in the crook of a branch and wait until it’s
within striking distance; Bliss severs its head cleanly, quickly, so the poor
Like an egg cracked in half, I suck its brain through the base of its skull.
It’s not much, but the night is young and the forest is full of squirrels.
I feel bad; I usually don’t eat brains on the half skull like this, but when
you’re stuck and need some power to save a human life, better to off a few
I’ve had four squirrel brains and two blue jay’s cerebellums by the time
most of the Zannibals have left for their nightly rounds of picking on the weak
Usually I would follow a group of them and try to stop them, or warn
their victims, but tonight I force myself to stay behind and keep my eyes on the
bigger prize.
35
Frost paces as several of his remaining goons return the fountain over
their now buried comrades, and I’m about to reach for a fifth squirrel and
just behind frilly white curtains that billow in the evening breeze.
I inch along the top of the courtyard wall, careful to keep low and out of
sight while vying for a closer look inside the dramatically lit room.
Frost is behind me now, barking orders in his bass voice and scraping in
The window is just out of reach now, the curtains flickering as the shape
It’s a woman, clad in black as if from a different era; the 60s, maybe…
or the 70s.
She limps to and fro, her jet black hair tied back away from her face;
The curtain flaps again, she turns and… I gasp, barely able to contain my
36
She pauses, just for a moment, and peers out the window.
She stops, inches forward and throws back the curtains; it’s her.
It.
IS.
Her.
25?
30?
Frost advances, cane in hand, the silver tip tap-tap-tapping across the tile
There are French doors that face the courtyard and by the time he’s
whipped them open he holds the cane aloft, heavy handle up over his head as
37
I crouch, Bliss in hand, but by now the rest of the Zannibals have
He turns, and in a flash of freedom Mom looks my way, tired, sad, black
I leap from the wall instead, landing on the nearest two Zannibals with a
Frost sees me, not recognizing me with all the new ink.
There’s not much time to get reacquainted anyway, since his Zannibal
In minutes there are fingers and toes, arms and legs surrounding me; it’s
I’m not saying it’s easy, but I have Bliss on my side; and vengeance.
And still they come, one by one, as I crouch and juke and jive and flit
about.
38
I can feel Bliss growing dull from all the slicing of bone and tendons and
Zannibal coming my way with froth on his lips and rage in his dead, black
eyes, I see Frost staying true to his name; observing everything coolly,
I don’t see Mom, but then I’ve got my eyes – and hands – full at the
moment.
At last there are only a few Zannibals left, giant men in all black who’ve
They advance, not two by two where they’re manageable, but four at a
time.
I crawl and I clamor, using limbs and headless bodies to scale the
courtyard wall.
The remaining Zannibals try to follow but they’re huge, and it’s a
challenge.
While they’re trying I pick them off, one by one, Bliss slicing through
shoulders and knee caps until more Zannibals stack like cordwood at my feet.
39
I turn to follow his eye and hear him before I see him, “I’m sorry, Holly!
I’m sorry!”
Four more Zannibals surround Percy, who looks like they’ve already
He is limping between them, one eye black, nose bloody and bent, lips
“Holly, is it?” asks Frost as the Zannibals bring Percy straight to him.
“So that’s who’s been turning my soldiers into cordwood? Always nice to put a
Frost silences him with a swift slap across the jaw from the snowflake
Another swift slap of the silver Snowflake silences Percy once and for
all; I hear the crack all the way on the courtyard wall.
“So it’s you I’ve been hearing about for the last few years. Stopping my
40
“They’re feeding on my friends, Frost,” I spit, still angling atop the
courtyard wall and slightly out of the reach of his giant minions.
“Who else should they feed one, Holly? You have such delicious,
anonymous friends.”
Frost waves a gloved hand and seems distracted, until two more
Zannibals emerge from the mansion, each bearing one of Mom’s arms.
I gasp as she shakes her head, teeth gnashing as she tries to yank herself
free.
I peer closer as they drag her into the pale moonlight and see why;
And not in a good way; it’s like Frost did a rush job, on purpose, to keep
To make sure she never saw the light of day or walked in public again.
Right then and there, I pledge to kill him; even if he takes me down with
him.
“Holly!” Mom gasps now that the cat is out of the bag, thanks to Percy.
41
“You too,” I whimper, but I’m not sure if she hears me.
It wouldn’t matter anyway; Frost drags her close, she stumbles to her
knees and he leans down and says, “Get her down here, Lydia, or I’ll have to
They rip off my hoodie, tear apart my black yoga pants and find Bliss;
“My, my,” says Frost, admiring the blade as he circles me. “I don’t know
He touches the tip of the blade to each tattoo, peering closely with his
intense black eyes as I hear Percy grunt back to life behind me.
I turn but Frost uses Bliss to yank my face back to his; he’s within reach
now, dark eyes alive as he leans forward and hisses, “I’m all you need to worry
42
The minute he does I head butt him, the sound of his nose cracking
against my forehead as Bliss clatters to the floor; I slip from the Zannibals and
I slice the ancient wood in half with Bliss, both pieces clattering to the
courtyard floor.
The Zannibals rush me but I have Bliss back now, cutting them down to
Then I hear a whimper, a reluctant groan of pain and turn to find Frost,
One strong thrust from Frost and the jagged, wooden edge will pierce
her brain; and no amount of sewing will bring her back from something like
that.
“Leave my men alone,” Frost hisses, “or this will be the last time you
I smell gasoline and hear the faint flicker of something being ignited;
suddenly an arc of flame shoots from the top of the courtyard wall and engulfs
Their tough hide sizzles like dry firewood, engulfing them instantly in
43
I roll away from the heat, from the flame and stumble into the room
As the Zannibals run from the flames Dad leaps to the ground, his Army
surplus flame thrower strapped to his back and a fountain of flame shooting
Frost crouches, literally shoving Mom and the other Zannibals in front of
him as he flees.
I follow instinctively, despite the fact that Frost could be setting a trap.
Still, from the look on his face, he seems too panicked to be planning
ahead.
He is not like the other Zannibals; he is loose and limber and more like
me.
Even with millions of dollars of prime real estate all around, I know I’m
44
Not that I’d give Frost the satisfaction, of course.
Just at the edge of the clearing he pauses, looking left, then right; then
stops.
He turns and smiles, leaning against a towering oak now that I’ve
I land in dirt and dust and grab two hands full, turning around and
He sputters and spits and spins wildly, but he’s not alone; three more
inch from the trees, each one bigger than the last.
Like Frost, these move more quickly than the rest; they seem smarter,
too.
from the left and another pile drives me from above; I land in a crunching pile
I find her, but too late; one of the Zannibals kicks her into a nearby tree
where she lands, her butterfly case quivering as it bobs up and down like
45
One of the Zannibals tries stepping on my fingers but I yank them out
from under his steel-toed boots at the last minute, grabbing his ankle from
behind and literally ripping his Achilles tendon from the back of his leg.
He stumbles in the dirt and I leap onto his neck, snapping it as I duck
I roll away, reaching for my Bliss but stopping just a few inches too
short; I grab a small branch and snap it in half, holding it like Bliss and waiting
When he does I jab it into one ear; it sticks in halfway and, leaning up on
Even I hear his brain “pop” from two feet away as he falls onto his side,
I don’t wait for the applause; I grab Bliss and grip her tight, the feel of
her handle comfortable in my palm as I slice off the fingers of one Zannibal
By the time I’ve left them lying in pieces next to their comrades, I can
46
I follow in the general direction of his branch braking, but feel like I’m
gurgling.
She’s smiling as Frost turns, a branch about wrist thick sticking out of
“Hurry, Holly!” she urges as Frost reaches out and grabs her long,
graying hair.
She gasps but doesn’t give up as Frost yanks her to the ground, still
I lunge for him but miss by an inch, slicing only his fancy blue silk shirt
I forget Bliss for a moment and reach for the end of the branch sticking
out just to the left of his spine; I yank it, turning him like a rudder and forcing
He lashes out with his closed fist and I hear something click in my ear;
by the time I look away I’m on the ground, Bliss nowhere to be found and
Frost leering over me, pulling the branch from his throat.
47
When he’s done he holds it aloft, ready to bring it down over my head
when I hear a slice of steel on skin and watch when his neck disintegrates as
When his torso follows, I see Mom standing cockeyed behind him, Bliss
in hand!
“Mom!” I grunt, standing from the forest floor and embracing her
tightly.
But flames flicker at the end of a flame thrower and Dad stands, staring
With a simple flick of his wrist Dad lights Frost on fire, then his head,
Percy emerges from the forest, wheezing as only a human can and dabbing his
“Is that… is that… her?” he asks, wiping his broken nose on one long
black sleeve.
48
“It is,” I say, keeping her close. “Can you believe it, Percy? After all
He takes it, smiling when her dry palm is cool to the touch.
“Come on, Dad,” I urge, yanking him away from the crackling pile of
cannibal zombies. “Let’s get out of here before the fire department comes!”
He shrugs but turns, looking at Mom shyly out of the corner of his eye.
We walk out of the clearing until we find the nearest street, Dad’s flame
Mom limps next to me, our arms linked just as they were that fateful day
“How did you find us, Dad?” I ask as he smiles, proudly, at last dousing
the flame and dumping the thrower in the woods as we climb, carefully, back
“All I had to do was follow Percy here, Holly. He’s not exactly a stealth
Holly.”
49
“How have you been, Herbert?” Mom interrupts, linking arms with him
as well.
“Herbert?” snorts Percy as the old man shoots him the evil eye.
Turning to Mom he winks and says, “As you can see, darlin’, Holly and
I have had a rough time without you. But now that you’re back, my dear;
Now that mine is back together, the grimy street looks a whole lot
50
About the Authors:
successful businesses.
Nick is currently developing fun and exciting new iPhone and iPad game
applications through his company, Zombie Active Games. The first app
Zombies Don’t Cry: A Living Dead Love Story (Medallion Press, 2011),
cover leaks, writing and publishing advice, book excerpts and more!
51