Clutching his bloodied hand, the man howled in pain. He ran along the street with several of his friends behind him.


“Oh, crap,” Ken exclaimed as the kid wiggled around in his mother’s grasp and tore into her chest.


“Okay, Damian needs to be put down,” Lenore decided firmly.


The boy’s seemingly-dead sister sat up and people applauded with relief even though ten feet away the other child was taking huge bites out of his mother. The insanity of the moment made Ken’s head hurt. People were just not getting what was going on. Hell, he wasn’t sure what was going on.


The highway patrolman motioned everyone back and turned to the resurrected teenager. The father of the girl again tried to reach for her, but was pushed away.


“Sir, just step back. We got an ambulance on the way,” he told the father a soothing tone. Kneeling down, he gazed into the blank face of the teenager. “Miss, you’re going to be all right.”


People clapped again as she gripped him by the neck. It was obvious they thought she was going to hug or kiss her rescuer. Lenore grabbed Ken’s arm as the girl opened her mouth wide and drove her teeth into the officer’s face.


“And now we’ve got Carrie!” Ken couldn’t believe what he was seeing.


At long last, the crowd of people, from both the cars and the town, comprehended the true danger of the situation. The girl pinned the patrolman to the ground and ripped huge bites of skin from his face and neck. The second patrolman drew his gun, flicked off the safety and pulled the trigger. The bullets punched through the girl’s body and into the patrolman beneath her.


Her father wailed in despair as he spun around in a circle, becoming aware that all his family had become monsters. The older man grabbed the father’s arm and shoved him into a car.


“We need to go!” the older man shouted.


Much to Ken’s relief, the woman with the baby crawled into the van as the rest of the highway refugees piled into their vehicles.


Nearby two men managed to get the boy off his mother and she collapsed to the ground, her neck spurting long fountains of blood. The boy thrashed between the two men. The men seemed at a loss as to what to do now that they had him off the mother.


The dead girl sluggishly stood up and lurched toward the remaining patrolman. He finished reloading and began firing at her again.


“Get out of here!” Sheriff Murphy shouted at the last of the shocked bystanders.


People sprinted away as the cars performed a crazy dance, attempting to maneuver out from between the highway patrol cars and escape.


“This can’t get worse,” Ken said in a soft voice.


Mr. Cloy finally seemed to register that he was in danger and retreated toward his store. A van, full of panicked people, crashed into the side of one of the patrol cars as it tried to skirt around it.


Sheriff Murphy ran toward the van, attempting to wave to the driver, but the vehicle reversed and lurched forward again. It struck the Sheriff. The older man’s body was thrown by the impact and skidded to a stop near Ken’s shop. The driver of the van didn’t even seem to realize what he had done as he crashed his vehicle into the patrol car again, finally scooting it out of the way.


“Oh, no, honey. It’s worse,” Lenore said in a trembling voice.


The zombie girl leaped onto the lawman shooting at her. The patrolman she had been chewing on minutes before rose to his feet and let out an ungodly screech.


The two townspeople struggling with the little boy seemed to finally get a plan together and swung him back and forth between them, gaining momentum before releasing him. The kid arced through the air and smashed into a departing car. The two men then turned to run. One of them let out a yelp as the boy’s mother dragged him down to the ground. She did not hesitate in biting into his arm.


The bloodied and torn undead patrolman let out another ungodly howl and ran after the last man trying to dodge the departing cars and escape. The van that had run down Sheriff Murphy disappeared from view and the other cars followed.


“Where’s that demented little freak?” Lenore asked anxiously.


“There.” Ken pointed to the boy as he limped on an broken leg toward Sheriff Murphy. A bone was sticking out of his thigh, but the kid moved with determination toward the fallen lawman.


“Do something!”


“Like what? Go tell him he’s bad and put him in the corner?” Ken looked around at his shop, unable to even comprehend what he could use to stop the little boy.


Lenore grabbed the coat rack next to the door, yanked the door open, and charged out. Ken gasped, but shadowed after her. Lenore rushed to the Sheriff’s side and swung the coat rack, knocking the zombie kid off his feet. The kid hissed, trying to get up, but Lenore smacked him again.


“You lil’ bastard, stay down!”


Ken took hold of the Sheriff’s arms and started to drag him back to the shop. It was difficult, but he was physically fit from his daily workout and managed to get the bigger man up over the curb.


Close by, the teenage girl was pulling the intestines out of the screaming patrolman while his former partner ran down the man who had tried to save the mother. The zombie tackled the man to the ground and ripped into him with his teeth. Meanwhile, the mother was still attacking the second man who had tried to help her.


Lenore smacked the kid off his feet again as she shifted backward toward the shop. “Get the Sheriff inside.”


“Almost there,” Ken huffed, dragging the Sheriff into the entrance.


The kid climbed to his feet and charged Lenore. Again, she used the coat rack to knock him on his ass. This time she continued to smack him with the rack, trying to keep him down.


Beyond Lenore, the mother was done eating. She climbed to her feet as her victim crawled to his knees behind her and let out a terrible moan of hunger.


“Hurry up, Lenore,” Ken shouted at her. “I got him inside!”


Lenore gave the kid one more big push, then ran to the shop.


Ken felt his throat tighten as the two mangled adults and the demonic child charged after her.


“Lenore, run! Run!”


Lenore was amazingly fast despite her size and hurled into the beauty shop. Ken slammed the door and moved to lock it.


“The keys!”


Lenore looked at him quizzically as she set the coatrack back in place, then understood. “Oh!” She stumbled over the Sheriff as she moved to snag the keys from the cash register.


Ken looked up to see the three crazed cannibals rushing toward the door. He quickly pulled the shade down over the window.


“Like that’ll work,” he muttered, then looked toward Lenore. “Keys would be, like, so good right now.”


“Hold on, looking for them. You always put them in the wrong place,” Lenore answered as she rummaged through the drawer under the register.


“Okay, like now, you know, would be good.” Ken held out his hand. He let out a girly yelp as something hit the door on the other side. He shot a look at the doorknob and felt his heart began to beat even faster.


“Catch!”


Ken glanced up just in time to see the ring of keys flying at his head. For a moment, he thought he wasn’t going to catch them, then his fingers caught the miniature Barbie doll dangling from the ring. He quickly inserted the key with the big pink heart on it into the lock as the door vibrated under the assault of the people on the other side. The doorknob jiggled and Ken had to fight to twist the key in the lock. Finally, the big bolts slid into place and Ken backed away from the door.


Lenore stepped next to him and they both stared at the door.


“Will it hold?”


“It’s a hundred years old and like petrified wood,” Ken answered.


“But will it hold?”


“Um...”


They both stared at the quivering door as the Sheriff moaned softly at their feet.


5.


It Gets Even Worse


“Okay...so...” Ken waved toward the door. “They’re like...um...”


“Zombies,” Lenore said.


“Yeah. That.” Ken frowned deeply. “Which means I’m either drunk, high, insane or-”


“-the dead people decided we’re good eatin’.”


“Right.” Ken arched an eyebrow. “Great.”


Lenore frowned even more deeply than usual before motioning to the big antique wardrobe that served as storage for hair dyes. “I think we should move that in front of the door.”


Ken eyed the Sheriff warily. “What about him?”


“First things first,” Lenore answered, heading over to the wardrobe.


Ken scurried into the back storage room that doubled as his office to retrieve the dolley.


Lenore gave the trembling shop door a dark look before tossing all the bottles of dyes and creams onto the nearby sofa. She wasn’t too worried about the bottles breaking since she figured the dead getting up and eating people was much more important than fighting with the supplier over the availability of certain colors. Behind her the Sheriff moaned, but didn’t stir. Of course, that wasn’t half as worrisome as the growls just outside the front door.


Ken rushed back with the dolley and together they wrestled the big piece of furniture in front of the door. There was much cursing and general swearing, but they managed to get the wardrobe positioned. Pushing it flush against it was difficult though.