The Big Huge Fat Vampire Bat

They ran for the balcony and looked down on the first floor. The balcony overlooked the kitchen and receptionist area and also the two dining areas, both of which were packed. The first was filled with students and the other with the political fundraising party.

  The screaming was coming from the pretty girl receptionist, because the zombie had crashed through the glass, spraying it over the foyer. As they watched, it lurched into a warming display holding pizza that could be sold by the slice. Triangular pieces of cheesy goodness plopped to the floor.

  “No!!” Nevin groaned.

  “Brains!” the zombie groaned. It staggered towards the receptionist.

  “My makeup!” she shrieked.

  Ignoring her, it stumbled into the political party room. “Brains!” the zombie moaned, bypassing the screaming politicians without a second glance.

  “Brains!” the zombie said, heading toward the other room, avoiding most of the football team.

  “Brai…” the zombie cried. Then it stopped short, straightening as it sensed the cranial output of a scrawny group of kids huddled in a window booth, each dressed in matching green Tees that read, “Pizza, the edible pie chart.” (note: get your own at www.teenormous.com)

  “No! The Mathletes!” Trug shouted. “Nevin, help them!”

  Nevin immediately darted for the stairs, scampering down with the agility of a squirrel. Erupting from the stairway he slipped through and around panicked diners, zeroing in on the frightened Mathletes, who were jabbing at their calculators, trying to find an equation that would meet the circumstance. Barking and snapping his teeth, Nevin ran around the mini-geniuses, herding them away from the zombie which was shoving and pushing past people, straining to get at the rich source of brains being corralled towards a small window in the corner.

  Nevin threw open the narrow window, which was barely big enough to allow the slight shouldered kids passage, and they slipped through with the alacrity of river otters, with Nevin growling at their heels.

  When the last of them had disappeared, the dismayed zombie groaned, “Nooooo! Brains!”

  Trug, watching from above chortled, “Hah, that will teach you!”

  The zombie’s empty, soulless eyes immediately went to Trug, who gasped. “Oh, crap, I’m an honor student.”

  “Brains,” the zombie cried, tottering to the wall under Trug. It tried climbing the wall, and its flailing arm latched onto the doorway. Pulling itself inside, it clumsily yawed up the stairs, shoulders thudding into the stairway walls.

  Trug looked around frantically. Everyone was gone. They had thundered down the stairs behind Nevin and escaped out the front door.

  “Mister. Would you be willing to be a magician at my party?”

  Trug looked down. It was the little pigtailed girl who had been staring at him all night.

  He could hear the zombie clomping up the stairs slavering about thalamus, cerebellum and medulla oblongata.

  “C’mon,” Trug said, grabbing the little girl’s hand. They ran by the doorway to the stairs just in time to see the zombie’s ravaged face. It was only a few steps from the top.

  “Eeek!” the girl shrieked.

  “It’s just a mask,” Trug cried. “We’re playing tag.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Brains,” the zombie cried. It reached the top step, but, not realizing there wasn’t another step, tried to step up onto a non-existent step, and stumbled forward, crashing into the former dining area trash can of a certain bat.

  This gave Trug a moment to look around.

  Besides the stairway, the only other exit was to the balcony. He towed her to doorway and looked around frantically. There was a sliding glass door, and Trug quickly slid it closed, just as the zombie crashed into the glass, startling Trug who hadn’t realized it had recovered so quickly. It was faster than he thought it would be.

  Trug’s hands scrabbled, looking for a latch or anything to fasten the door closed. There was no way to lock it from the outside.

  “Brains!” the zombie groaned.

  “That’s a really realistic mask,” the little girl said. “Maybe he can come to my party, too. He can scare Eddie really bad.” She narrowed her eyes at Trug. “Eddie is mean.”

  Holding onto the door as the zombie shoved on the glass, Trug’s panicked eyes swept the balcony and settled on the umbrellas. Several of the umbrellas were set up on the tables, but there were a few in a neat stack nearby. “Hey, little girl…”

  “My name is Amy,” she said.

  “Okay, okay, Amy… do you think you can bring me one of those umbrellas?”

  Before she could answer, the zombie gave a massive shove, and the heavy door burst through the door frame. Trug fell backwards to the deck, the zombie riding the door down, slamming Trug to the outdoor carpeting. Trug’s head bounced and then things went black.