Zombie Halloween

  Contents

  Title Page

  Welcome. You Are Most Wanted.

  Part One: 1944

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Part Two: Today

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Part Three: Five Days Till Halloween

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Preview: Goosebumps® Most Wanted Special Edition #2: The 12 Screams of Christmas

  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  Come in. I’m R.L. Stine. Welcome to the Goosebumps office.

  Glad you made it through the barbed wire fence. Don’t worry. Those cuts will stop bleeding in an hour or two.

  Why do we have a barbed wire fence? To keep the Abominable Snowman from escaping. I’m surprised you didn’t see him. He’s creeping up right behind you. Hurry. Step inside and shut the door. You don’t want to find out why everyone calls him “Abominable.”

  Hey, don’t be scared of Eddie over there. Eddie woke up dead tired one morning. Guess what? He actually was dead. Yes, Eddie is a zombie. But he doesn’t like that word. He likes to be called “life-challenged.”

  He’s not much trouble. He only needs to eat human flesh once a day. Don’t be nervous. He just finished his breakfast.

  Whom did he have for breakfast? I’m not sure. But I haven’t seen my brother all morning….

  Eddie — what did I tell you about eating the family?

  Oh, well. Let me ask you a question before Eddie has to have his next meal. What do you think is the Most Wanted holiday?

  You’re right. It’s Halloween. It’s the most fun night of the year. And … it can be the scariest.

  A boy named Kenny Manzetti is going to tell you about his Halloween.

  Kenny and his sister, Tricia, moved into a creepy old house that looked like it should be in a horror movie. They didn’t believe all the scary stories they heard about the house. They decided to have a Halloween party to meet the kids in their new neighborhood. But they had some unexpected guests….

  You see, the house stood across the street from a graveyard. And some people buried there — hideous, rotting zombies — decided to make this a Zombie Halloween….

  A chill rolled down my back as my friend Ivy and I gazed up at my new house. The house was dark gray with peeling paint. Black shutters tilted at the dust-smeared windows.

  Under the sloping roof, one attic window was broken and covered with cardboard. The wind whistled into the window, high above our heads. It sounded like someone screaming.

  I wanted to scream.

  “It’s a haunted house,” I said. “It belongs in a horror movie.”

  “Your mom will get it cleaned up, Mario,” Ivy said.

  I knew Ivy for only a couple of weeks. She was the first friend I made since we moved to Franklin Village. She was cheerful Miss Sunshine all the time.

  I told her that. She said, “I’d rather be Miss Sunshine than someone howling at the full moon.”

  Does that make any sense?

  Ivy was always saying things like that. But I liked her anyway. She was cute. She was twelve, like me. Tiny, with a pointed chin and pointed little nose. Like an elf in the picture books my mom used to read me when I was little.

  She had short blond hair and green eyes. And she usually wore the same green sweater with a lacy white collar. I guess because it matched her eyes.

  “I couldn’t get to sleep last night,” I said. “I kept hearing a tap-tap-tap above me. I knew what it was. It was mice running across my ceiling.”

  “Tap-tap-tap is better than thump-thump-thump,” Ivy said.

  That made me laugh.

  I turned away from the house. It made me sad that Mom and I had to live in such a creepy old wreck of a place. But we really had no choice.

  My dad was in Germany fighting the war. And Mom was working two factory jobs to earn enough money for us to get by. I almost never saw her.

  “You’re the man of the house now, Mario,” Mom told me the day we moved into this horrible place. “It’s a tough time for everyone. And being gloomy isn’t going to help.”

  “But Gloomy is my middle name,” I said. “Mario Gloomy Manzetti.”

  I was trying to make her laugh. She hardly ever smiled these days, and she had these lines under her eyes she never had before.

  She swept her black hair behind her shoulder. “Promise me you’ll do your best,” she said.

  I raised my right hand and swore I’d do my best.

  “We are lucky to have a house,” Mom said.

  “Lucky,” I repeated.

  She tugged at the brown leather bomber jacket I liked to wear because it made me look tough. “Mario, that jacket is getting small on you,” she said.

  “I’ll try not to grow anymore,” I told her. I tightened my stomach and hunched down to my knees.

  That made her laugh.

  Now, Ivy and I stood in front of the house with the October wind gusting around us. Fat brown leaves danced around our legs.

  “I guess the worst part is living across the street from a graveyard,” I said.

  Ivy poked me in the ribs. “Are you scared?” she asked in a singsong voice. “Is little Mario scared of a graveyard?”

  “I’m not scared,” I said, poking her back. “It’s just … depressing.”

  “Ooh. Big word,” she said. “So? You live in a haunted house across the street from a graveyard. What is the big deal?”

  The truth is, maybe I was a little scared. I’m not a tough guy. Sometimes I have nightmares that make me wake up all sweaty and shaky. And I’ve never been in a fight with another kid. I always find a way to talk my way out of fights.

  When I was little, I pretended to be Superman or Captain Marvel, the new comic book heroes. I wore a towel for a cape and had my underpants over my pajama pants. And I ran around, pretending to “leap tall buildings in a single bound.”

  I think I really believed there were these powerful guys in capes and tights who were around to fight bad guys and protect everyone else. But then my dad went off to war, and I had to grow up a little and forget that comic book stuff.

  Ivy leaned into the wind and trotted across the street, her blond hair bouncing behind her.

  “Hey, wait up!” I shouted. “Where are you going?”

  I could see where she was headed. Into the graveyard.

  Our shoes crackled over the brown leaves as we followed a path through the tilted stone graves. Wind gusts made the old gravestones creak and groan.

  “Why don’t we go to the candy store instead?” I asked. I pointed to the little store on the corner past the graveyard. “I have a nickel. We could load up on root beer barrels and licorice stick
s.”

  “Mom said not to ruin my appetite for dinner,” Ivy said. “Don’t you like walking in this place? Some of the graves are so old —”

  “It’s … my first time,” I said.

  The sky darkened. I looked up and saw storm clouds rolling overhead. The wind rattled the limbs of the old tree beside us.

  I shivered. I raised the collar of my bomber jacket. My eyes gazed all around. The blowing, crackling leaves made the whole place seem alive.

  Ivy pointed. “That grave is so tiny. Do you think a child is buried there?”

  Before I could answer, I saw something that made me gasp.

  I grabbed Ivy’s arm. “Look. Ivy. Something just moved — by that tombstone.”

  We both stared into the gray light.

  “Oh, noooo,” I moaned.

  I watched, trembling in horror as someone climbed out of a grave.

  I squeezed Ivy’s arm. We both froze and watched. Dressed all in black, the terrifying figure kept his face down. He stepped from behind the tall gravestone — raised his arms in front of him — and began staggering stiffly toward Ivy and me.

  “Noooo. Oh, noooo.” Another moan escaped my throat.

  And then the staggering creature raised his head — and I screamed. “Anthony! You jerk!”

  My little brother tossed back his black hood and burst out laughing. He has a high, shrill hyena laugh that makes me want to strangle him.

  But I grabbed him by the shoulders instead, and shook him hard. “You little rat. You scared us to death.”

  That made Anthony laugh even harder.

  Ivy laughed, too. “He got you this time, Mario.”

  “Me?” I cried. “Me? You were scared, too, Ivy.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” she said. “I was only pretending.”

  The sky grew even darker, and I heard the rumble of thunder in the distance.

  “Let go of me,” Anthony said.

  I didn’t realize I was still gripping his shoulders.

  He stamped hard on my right foot.

  “Owww!” I uttered a cry and staggered back.

  Anthony laughed again. He’s a little creep. He’s always following me and trying to scare me. I’d like to smash him. But as the man of the house, my job is to watch over him and take care of him as best I can.

  The truth is, I can’t really hate him. Mainly because he looks just like me. We both have thick, wavy black hair, round faces, dark eyes, and we’re tall and kind of beefy.

  “Look what I found,” Anthony said. He grabbed my hand and started to pull me along the grassy path between the graves.

  The wind felt wet. It shook the trees and sent the dead leaves skipping over the old tombstones.

  “Look,” Anthony said, pointing down.

  Ivy and I stared at a deep hole in the ground. “It’s an open grave,” Ivy said.

  I shivered again. I pulled my jacket tighter. “It’s an open grave, waiting for someone,” I murmured. I grabbed Anthony. “Maybe it’s waiting for you!”

  He pulled away. “Maybe it’s waiting for someone named Mario,” he said. His dark eyes flashed. “I dare you to jump down there.”

  My eyes darted over the grave. It was deep and the mud walls were black. Even in the dim light, I could see fat worms crawling over the grave floor.

  Ivy laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” I snapped.

  “Your face,” she said. “You look so terrified. It’s just a mud hole, Mario.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I replied. “Someone dug this for a dead person. It isn’t a hole — it’s a grave.”

  “I knew you couldn’t do it,” Anthony said. He jumped up and down, like he’d won a big victory. “I’m braver than you are! I’m braver than you are!”

  Ivy turned to me. Her green eyes locked on mine. “Go ahead. Jump in,” she whispered. “Don’t let Anthony win.”

  I squinted into the grave. I watched the worms crawling in the mud at the bottom. It looked so dark and disgusting down there. But I had just met Ivy. I didn’t want her to think I was a coward.

  I stepped to the edge.

  Should I do it? Should I jump?

  Before I could decide, someone gave me a hard shove from behind.

  “Hey!” I let out a scream — and went sailing into the grave.

  “Owww.” I landed hard on my elbows and knees. Pain shot down my whole body.

  I struggled to climb to my feet. The strong smell of the mud floor rose to my nostrils. Wet clumps of dirt smeared my hands.

  Ivy and Anthony peered down at me. I growled and shook my fist at my brother. “You pushed me — you rat! I’ll get you! I’m not kidding. You’ll be sorry, you jerk.”

  Anthony’s eyes grew wide. “But … I didn’t,” he stammered. “Mario — I swear. I didn’t push you.”

  “Liar!” I screamed. “You dirty liar!” I tried to rub the mud off my hands on the legs of my jeans.

  “I never touched you,” Anthony insisted.

  “He’s telling the truth,” Ivy called down. The wind gusted hard, almost drowning out her voice. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I was watching him, Mario. He didn’t push you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I snarled. “Someone shoved me down here. Who was it?”

  Ivy laughed. “Maybe it was a ghost.”

  Rain started to come down. Big, heavy drops that made a splat sound on the muddy grave floor.

  I rubbed my back. It still ached from the hard push. I don’t believe in ghosts. Anthony had to be lying. He pushed me. It’s the kind of thing Anthony likes to do.

  Ivy was just trying to protect him.

  Rain slapped the sides of the grave. “Get me out of here,” I said. “It’s too deep. I can’t climb out by myself.”

  Ivy had her hands on her knees. She bent over the grave. “You can’t climb up the side?”

  “It’s too muddy,” I said. “I’d just slide right back down.”

  She turned to Anthony. “Come help me.”

  They both reached down for me. I raised my arms to them. They each grabbed a hand and tugged. I saw the dirt at the side of the grave crumble away.

  “Noooo!” Ivy screamed as she started to fall.

  I staggered back as they both came tumbling into the grave.

  Anthony landed on his feet. His body appeared to bounce, but he kept his balance.

  Ivy landed facedown in the mud.

  “I don’t believe this,” I muttered. I grabbed Ivy by the shoulders of her sweater and helped pull her to her feet.

  She blinked a few times, stunned. Then she grinned at me. “I wasn’t expecting a mud bath today,” she said. “Look at me. I’m dripping in mud. So this is what pigs feel like.”

  Cheerful. Always cheerful.

  “I … I’m not happy right now,” Anthony murmured.

  “Going down into the grave was your idea,” I said.

  He shook his head. “I wanted you to go into the grave — not me.”

  The raindrops came down harder. Above us, I could hear the wind swirling through the graves.

  I dug both hands into the grave wall and tried to climb. But my hands slid right back down. The mud fell off in big clumps.

  Lightning crackled above us.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” I said.

  Without another word, all three of us began to scream.

  “Help! Help us! Can anybody hear us? Somebody — help!”

  We didn’t scream for long. We knew the graveyard was empty. We hadn’t seen another person anywhere nearby. Besides, the wind was howling so loudly, it drowned out our shouts.

  The rain pounded down. My hair was matted to my head. I kept wiping raindrops from my eyes.

  I felt cold water seep into my shoes. I gazed down and saw that deep puddles were spreading across the mud of the grave floor. Worms crawled over my feet and up my pant legs.

  Ivy started to hop up and down. To keep warm, I guess.

  “We can figure this out,” she said. “Mario, give
me a boost.”

  She moved to a grave wall. I cupped my hands under her shoes. And pushed.

  Her hands scrabbled at the top. The dirt gave way, and she started to slide back down. But I held on. Held her steady.

  I gave her another push. She dug her fingers into the mud and, with a groan, hoisted herself out of the grave. She disappeared from view for a few seconds. I heard her give a cheer.

  Then she returned, peering down at Anthony and me. “Give me your hands,” she said. Anthony shoved me from behind. Ivy tugged me out. Then we both pulled Anthony up.

  The cold, swirling wind made me shiver. All three of us were soaked and covered with mud.

  Lightning crackled again, followed by a boom of rolling thunder.

  “Let’s get out of here!” I shouted.

  I led the way. Ducking our heads against the rain, we took a few running steps toward my house.

  And then we froze.

  Voices whispered all around us. Voices carried by the wind. Behind us. Ahead of us. Everywhere.

  “Just the rain,” I murmured. Every muscle in my body tensed. I listened to the whispers — and knew it couldn’t be the wind.

  I heard their words so clearly.

  “Visit me …”

  “Come to me. Visit me …”

  “I’m soooooo lonely …”

  Hoarse, raspy voices. Voices from the graves? The dead and buried … calling to us? Pleading with us?

  I pressed my hands over my ears. I tried to shut them out.

  But I could still hear their hoarse cries:

  “Come here. Come over here …”

  “I won’t hurt you. I’m so lonely …”

  And then I screamed in horror when a bony hand squeezed my shoulder from behind.

  Struggling to catch my breath, I spun around. “Anthony!”

  He raised both hands. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You liar. You grabbed me.” I grasped the front of his coat and angrily pulled him toward me.

  “No. I didn’t touch you,” he protested. “I swear.” He pulled free of my grasp.

  Ivy stepped between us. “He didn’t grab you, Mario,” she said. “Stop acting crazy and let’s get home.”

  Acting crazy?

  Was it crazy? I could still hear the voices all around.

  Someone pushed me into that grave, and someone squeezed my shoulder. Someone … living or dead?