Zombie Halloween, Page 2

  I realized my whole body was trembling.

  Would I remember this day as the scariest day of my life?

  The three of us began to run again. Ivy turned at the street. “I’m going home,” she cried. “This is too scary. See you later.”

  I watched her run toward her house on the next block. Anthony and I darted up the front steps to our house.

  “We’re going from a haunted graveyard to a haunted house,” I muttered.

  “Our new house isn’t haunted,” Anthony said. “It’s just old.”

  “Old and haunted,” I insisted.

  I fumbled with the front doorknob. The old wooden door was stuck. It took all my strength to pull it open. We burst inside, both breathing hard, shaking off rainwater.

  I was desperate to tell Mom what happened in the graveyard. But she wasn’t home. She was at one of her jobs.

  Anthony and I tossed our wet clothes in the laundry hamper. We dried ourselves off and pulled on clean T-shirts and jeans.

  Mom had left a pot of tomato soup on the stove with instructions on how long to cook it. I found a loaf of bread and made cheese sandwiches for the two of us.

  Anthony and I ate our lunch at the kitchen table. We didn’t talk much. I kept seeing the deep, dark hole of the grave and the worms and the mud, and hearing the howling wind and the whispered, raspy voices. They played in my mind like a horror movie.

  Anthony was probably thinking the same frightening thoughts. Neither one of us wanted to talk about any of it.

  Ivy came over before lunch was over. She wore a long, black skirt and a different green sweater. She finished the tomato soup in the pot and ate the second half of my cheese sandwich.

  “Graveyards can make you hungry,” she said, smiling as always.

  “Don’t mention the graveyard,” I said.

  “Do you have any cookies?” she asked. She started opening cabinet drawers. She pulled out a box of graham crackers. “Oh, I love graham crackers. I could eat a whole box.”

  We passed around the graham crackers. “Where does your mother work?” Ivy asked.

  “At the box factory downtown,” I said. “She’s some kind of secretary.”

  “My mom is a bank teller,” Ivy said.

  “Does she ever bring home any samples?” Anthony asked.

  That made us laugh. Sometimes Anthony can be funny. When he isn’t being a complete pest.

  I couldn’t shake off the scene in the graveyard. I couldn’t think about anything else. “It … it was like the graveyard was alive,” I said.

  Ivy’s expression turned serious. She set down the box of graham crackers. “My brother, Stan … He’s always reading. He’s a real bookworm. Stan read a book about zombies.”

  “Zombies?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah. You know. Dead people who come back to life. And all they want to do is eat human flesh.”

  “Yum!” Anthony said. He crunched up a cracker between his teeth. “Flesh! I love flesh!”

  “Shut up,” I snapped. “You don’t even know what flesh is.”

  “Do too.” I had a graham cracker in front of me on the table. He smashed it with his fist.

  “You’ll eat that!” I said.

  “Cut it out, you two,” Ivy said. “Don’t you realize we might have heard zombies in the graveyard this morning? Don’t you think those whispers we heard —”

  “Stop!” I said. I pressed my hands over my ears.

  Anthony laughed. “My big brother, Mario, is afraid of zombies! Afraid they’ll want to eat you?” He turned and bit my arm.

  “Hey! That hurt!” I gave him a hard shove.

  He tossed back his head and laughed again. What a little creep.

  I turned back to Ivy. “I don’t believe in zombies,” I said. “I don’t believe in ghosts, and I don’t believe in dead people whispering in graveyards.”

  She shrugged. “We heard something, Mario. It wasn’t just the wind.”

  “Let’s do something,” I said. I was desperate to change the subject. I was scared. I mean, really scared. But I didn’t want Ivy to know.

  I jumped up and pushed my chair in. “Let’s go to the den and play some records. My dad has a pretty good collection of jazz records.” I started to lead them down the hall toward the den.

  There was a stack of cartons at the end of the hall. Mom hadn’t had time to unpack everything.

  Ivy stopped and peered into a doorway. “Hey, you have a basement. My house doesn’t have a basement. Have you been down there?”

  “No,” I said. “Not yet.”

  “Why don’t we explore your basement?” Ivy said. She pulled the door all the way open. “Maybe there are some amazing treasures down there. Who owned this house before you?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me. I think the house was empty for a long time. I mean, look at it.” I pointed to the broken floorboards. Then I raised my eyes to the peeling paint on the walls. “It’s a total wreck.”

  “Mario doesn’t want to go in the basement,” Anthony chimed in. “He’s too scared.”

  “Shut up, Anthony,” I snapped. “Why don’t you go up to your room and amuse yourself?”

  “Why don’t you go fly a kite?”

  “Come on, you two,” Ivy pleaded. “Follow me.” She turned and started down the basement stairs.

  I didn’t really want to go. That little creep Anthony was right. I was scared. Actually, I was still shaken from our cemetery adventure. But I had no choice. I had to follow Ivy.

  I grabbed a flashlight from the supply closet. And I started down the wooden stairs. They were very steep and narrow, and covered with a layer of slippery dust. They creaked and groaned under our feet.

  My flashlight beam swept up and down over the basement floor. The air grew cooler as we headed down. A sour odor greeted my nose.

  I stopped halfway down. I realized my heart was pounding in my chest.

  One thought flashed through my mind: This house is so creepy. Are we going to find something horrible down there?

  We huddled at the bottom of the stairs. A small rectangle of light spread in front of us on the floor, light from upstairs. My flashlight beam darted over the bare basement walls.

  “It stinks down here,” I muttered. “And it’s cold as a refrigerator.”

  Ivy took a few steps into the darkness. “It’s a pretty big basement,” she said. “And look — it’s filled with junk.”

  I swept the light past her. I saw stacks of cardboard cartons, piles of tattered newspapers, a long rack of old-fashioned-looking clothes — long skirts and frilly blouses. Even in the dim light, I could see that the clothes were moth-eaten and stained.

  Ivy walked over to the clothes. Anthony and I followed her. Anthony pulled an old magazine off a pile. It crumbled in his hands. “That’s ancient,” he said.

  “Someone moved out of this house a long time ago,” Ivy said, “and just left all this stuff down here. I wonder why.”

  I swept the beam of light around in a circle. “It would take weeks to clean out this place,” I said.

  Ivy bent down and lifted some boxes from a large straw basket. “Board games,” she said. “Old board games. Maybe some of these are still fun to play.”

  But then she made a disgusted face and let them fall back into the basket. “Ooh, they’re covered in mold. And they all smell so terrible.”

  I squeezed my nose. “This whole basement smells like rotten meat,” I said. “Why does it stink so bad?”

  “Maybe because of this dead mouse,” Anthony said. I swung the light beam around. And I watched Anthony pick up a headless, half-decayed mouse by the tail.

  “Drop it!” I cried. “Are you crazy?”

  Holding the tail in two fingers, he swung it in front of him. An evil grin spread over his face. “Here — catch!” he called. He heaved the dead mouse at me.

  I tried to dodge away. But it smacked me in the chest.

  I staggered back. The flashlight fell out of my hand and clattered
onto the cement floor.

  Anthony laughed his shrill hyena laugh.

  And then I went bonkers. I grabbed the flashlight. And with a furious growl, I went charging at Anthony.

  He probably thought I was going to hit him with the flashlight. But I would never do anything like that to my kid brother. Instead, I lowered my shoulder — and butted him backward with all my strength.

  “Noooo!” He let out a cry as he lost his balance. He slammed hard into a stack of cartons. The big boxes toppled from side to side — and then came crashing down.

  I gasped as a huge box landed on Anthony, flattening him to the floor. One arm poked out from under the carton. He didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound.

  I froze in terror, staring at him flat on his back under the box.

  Ivy ran over to him and dropped to her knees beside him. “You crushed him!” she screamed. “Mario — you crushed your brother!”

  “Noooo! Oh, no!”

  A cry escaped my throat. I dove beside Ivy and stared down at my brother, at the arm sticking out so lifelessly from under the huge box.

  And then I heard Anthony giggle.

  Ivy and I blinked at each other. I raised both hands and gave the carton a push.

  It practically flew off Anthony. It was light as a feather.

  Anthony raised his head and grinned. “Were you scared?” He laughed again and scrambled to his feet before I could punch him.

  My heart was still pounding. “You scared Ivy and me to death, you creep.”

  That made him laugh harder.

  I picked up the carton. It was empty. It couldn’t crush an ant.

  “Can we go upstairs now?” I asked Ivy.

  She wasn’t looking at me. She was squinting down at the floor. “What is that?” She pointed.

  I swept the flashlight beam down to where she pointed. It took me a few seconds to focus my eyes. “It seems to be some kind of handle,” I said.

  Ivy squatted down to examine it more closely. “A handle in the floor?”

  Anthony and I joined her. I aimed the circle of light at it. “A trapdoor,” I said. “See? It’s a trapdoor in the floor. You pull up the handle and —”

  Anthony dove across me and grabbed the handle. “Let’s see what’s down there.”

  “No, wait —” I tried to pull him back. “Maybe we don’t want to —”

  Too late. Anthony tugged and the trapdoor slid open. He pulled it all the way up until it stood on its own.

  We stared into the square opening. I could see a rope ladder that led down into total darkness.

  “How weird,” Ivy murmured. “It’s a basement under the basement.”

  “Anthony, we don’t know what’s down there,” I said.

  Ivy leaned over the opening. “Can’t see a thing from up here.”

  “Let’s go,” Anthony said. He lowered himself into the opening and grabbed the rope ladder with both hands.

  “Anthony, no — !” I shouted.

  But when does he ever listen to me?

  I tried to pull him away. But he was already making his way down the ladder. I could only see his head and shoulders. “Come on. Follow the leader!” he cried.

  He disappeared from view.

  I turned to Ivy. “Are we going down there?”

  “It’s an adventure,” she said. “How can you resist a secret room under the basement?”

  “Easy,” I said. I peered into the hole. “Hey, Anthony?” I called down. My voice echoed from somewhere down there. “Anthony?”

  I couldn’t see him at all. I swung the flashlight and aimed it into the hole. “Anthony, where are you? Hey, I can’t see you. Where are you? Anthony — come back up here!”

  I darted the flashlight all around. No sign of him. My heart started to pound. I suddenly felt cold all over.

  “Anthony?”

  And then I heard a shrill, terrified scream from far below: “Help! It’s got me! It’s got me!”

  I turned to Ivy and rolled my eyes. “How many times is he going to pull this joke?” I said.

  She nodded. “I don’t believe him, either. He’s a complete fake.”

  “Anthony, you’re not fooling us,” I shouted down into the opening. “Not for a second. Come back up and stop trying to scare us.”

  Silence.

  Ivy leaned into the hole and cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “Anthony? You’re not funny, Anthony. Come back where we can see you.”

  Silence.

  “Anthony?” I called, my voice growing shrill. “Anthony? Hey — Anthony?”

  Ivy and I waited, our eyes focused on the darkness below. My heart began to pound. The silence rang in my ears.

  Finally, Anthony stepped into the light. He gazed up at us, a big grin on his face. “I didn’t scare you? Are you lying?”

  “We’re not lying,” I said. “You tried it once too often. Now get back up here.”

  “No. You come down,” he insisted. “It’s kind of strange down here.”

  “Strange?” Ivy called. “What do you mean?”

  Anthony motioned us down. “Come here. You’ll see.”

  Ivy shrugged. She moved into the opening and grabbed both sides of the rope ladder. I watched her lower herself down a rung at a time.

  I had a bad feeling about this. But, of course, I had a bad feeling about everything in this old house. I kept asking myself, why would there be a basement under the basement? Did the past owner of this house have something he needed to hide?

  I grabbed the rope ladder. My feet fumbled for the rungs. I’d never climbed on a rope ladder. And it was shakier and more difficult than I imagined — especially while gripping a flashlight in one hand.

  But I made it to the bottom, let go of the ladder, took a few steps back, and glanced around.

  My eyes followed the light of my flashlight. “There’s nothing down here,” I said. “It’s completely empty. Just walls and a dirt floor.”

  Ivy squinted at my brother. “Anthony, why did you think it’s so interesting?”

  He pointed. “Look.”

  I swung the light around. The bare walls gave way to a dark, narrow passage. It seemed to go on forever. “A … tunnel,” I murmured.

  “Yes. This isn’t a room,” Anthony said. “It’s a tunnel.”

  Ivy squinted into the light. “A long tunnel under your house. But where does it lead?”

  “Let’s follow it,” Anthony said. He started to trot into the dark passage.

  “Wait,” I said. “Let’s think about this.”

  “Maybe it leads to some fantastic caves,” he said. “Maybe it leads to the ocean!”

  Ivy and I laughed. “That would be a very long tunnel,” she said. “Franklin Village is miles and miles from any ocean.”

  I thought hard. I gazed up at the trapdoor opening high above us. And then I followed the floor of the tunnel. “I think I know where the tunnel leads,” I said in a whisper.

  “Where?” Ivy asked.

  “To the graveyard.”

  Anthony laughed. “How do you know?”

  “Yes. How do you know that?” Ivy said. “You’re just guessing, Mario.”

  I nodded. “Right. I’m guessing. But look at it. It leads toward the street. And what is across the street? The graveyard.”

  Anthony grinned at Ivy. “Now we have to follow it — just to prove Mario wrong.” He took off, trotting into the darkness of the narrow tunnel.

  “No. Wait —” I called.

  But Ivy followed him. I had no choice. “Wait up.”

  My light beam swept from side to side as I kept it ahead of us. The tunnel was so low, we had to duck our heads. The walls and floor were dirt. Our shoes kicked up dust as we ran.

  “I … can’t believe we’re doing this,” I said, breathing hard. “If Mom knew about this, she’d kill us.”

  “We’re just exploring,” Ivy said. “What is the big deal?”

  “Maybe there’s pirate treasure hidden at the end,” Anth
ony said.

  “We’re under the street now,” I said. “I just know it.” I wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. The deeper we moved into the tunnel, the warmer the air became. The smell of the dirt started to choke me.

  The tunnel curved a little to the left. I kept the light beam on the floor ahead of us. My loud breaths echoed off the dirt walls.

  All three of us stopped when we heard the sounds.

  I tried to swallow but my mouth was too dry. Anthony and Ivy were breathing hard, too. We had our eyes straight ahead, listening hard.

  Were those animal growls?

  I heard the scrape of footsteps on the dirt.

  I aimed the light straight ahead. But I couldn’t see anything in the deep darkness.

  I gasped when I heard a loud groan. And then a cough.

  “We … we’re not alone down here,” I stammered. My hand shook. I almost dropped the flashlight.

  The scraping footsteps came closer.

  “L-let’s get out of here,” I whispered.

  But all three of us were frozen to the spot. Our mouths open. Breathing hard in the dirt-choked air. Listening.

  We all cried out as the hunched figures staggered into view. Were they people? They walked on two legs. But they grunted and growled like animals.

  I swept the light from face to face — and every muscle in my body tightened in horror.

  Their faces were twisted and ugly. Some had missing eyes. Some had big patches of skin rotted away, the gray skull showing through. Their clothes were tattered and in filthy shreds. Their feet were bare and all bone. Skeletal feet. No skin at all.

  “Zombies,” Ivy whispered. She grabbed my arm. “Dead people … walking. From the graveyard.”

  Grunting, they shuffled toward us. They were only a few feet from us, staggering closer.

  Frightening thoughts flew through my mind. This tunnel must be their hiding place. Where they can travel safely without being seen. But why are they moving toward us now? Because they’re hungry?

  Anthony seemed paralyzed by the terrifying sight. I squeezed his shoulder hard and tugged. “Let’s go. Move!”

  Ivy was already running hard, kicking up dirt as she raced back to the trapdoor. Anthony and I ran side by side, leaning forward as we moved, as if that would help us get there sooner.