2 – Plan of Attack

Pulling his curtains shut to make sure no zombies could see he was home, Zak flipped on his lights and pulled out a pencil and pad of paper. He had several things going for him that would help him with the rescue and started listing them:

1. Since he was young (12, almost 13) he could move faster than the zombies.

2. He knew how to use knives and torches because he helped his Dad in his juggling act sometimes.

3. He was homeschooled, so…

Zak tapped his pencil a few times and tried to think of what advantage that gave him, and then gave up.

“Forget that. I’ll use the knives and torches and be in and out so fast they won’t know what hit them.” He headed down to the room off the garage where he and his Dad practiced juggling. His Dad used to be a computer programmer but said he got “burned out working for The Man” and switched to street performing. Zak goes with him sometimes because people put more money in the hat after the show when there’s a kid performing. And because he likes working with his Dad.

Zak grabbed his Dad’s show bag, already packed with balls, knives, and torches. He had his own show bag, but he knew the knives in his Dad’s bag were heavier, and figured he might need as much stopping power as possible.

He turned to go and his eyes lit up as they caught on a coiled black form hanging on the wall.

“Oh, yeah, and the bullwhip!” Zak thought he could probably keep any zombies back by cracking the whip at them.

Gathering his supplies together Zak looked around the room wondering if there was anything else that might be useful. Stepping back into the garage Zak spied a bunch of protein bars, a flashlight, and canteen, and decided to fill the canteen from the utility sink so he wouldn’t have to see the gore in the kitchen.

As the canteen filled he eyed the Ford Focus sitting in the garage and couldn’t help thinking about drifting around corners on the way to snatch his parents. While he knew where the keys hung, he decided risking his life against zombies was bad enough. He was sure he could drive it fine, but his Dad would kill him for taking it after he was rescued.

His unicycle? He could make better time riding it than walking, but he’d have to stick to pavement (mostly) and after seeing what had happened out in the street Zak’s plan was to stick to the bushes and woods as much as possible.

Plus, riding down the street on a unicycle after a bunch of zombies would just look kind of weird.

Zak carried his gear into the living room and  dropped it in the center of the room. Running back upstairs he sat down at his desk to write a note. Just in case his parents escaped he didn’t want them to worry about him.

Mom and Dad – I’m on my way to rescue you from the zombies. If I find out you escaped I’ll come right back home. I took Dad’s show bag. I’ll help clean up Jeffrey when I get back. I can’t believe zombies ate my poodle. Love, Zak

Turning off the lights as he walked down the hall, Zak paused in the doorway of his parents’ bedroom for a few seconds. He almost wished his Dad had called to him before he and his Mom went downstairs so they could be together right now. If that had happened there wouldn’t be anybody to rescue them. But he still couldn’t help but feeling that way at least a bit.

Zak carried the note downstairs and laid it on the table right inside the front door where his parents couldn’t help but see it if they came in. Back in the living room he started to sling the bag over his shoulder when his blood froze – he could hear sounds coming from the kitchen!

He knew the back door was locked but there were definitely sounds coming from the next room. Scratching sounds, breathing sounds, and then a loud squishy thump.

Zak’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched a shadow from the kitchen start to make it’s way through the doorway. A low moan filled the air and into the room walked Jeffrey, blood still dripping from his crunched skull.

As Jeffrey looked at his owner and started forward, Zak took a step backward and his heel caught on the show bag. He yelled and struggled to get his footing but the last thing he saw as he fell back onto the floor was his zombie poodle leaping at him.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *