33. ATTACK!
SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD NICKY KAPPES and fifteen-year-old Teri Smith would have preferred to be almost anywhere on this frigid Friday night instead of where they were right now—huddled in down sleeping bags inside a canvas tent in the Berkshire Mountains of western Massachusetts. The campground was officially closed for the winter, but that hadn’t stopped their fathers. For the past three years, the divorced dads had brought their kids here for a weekend of what they called “uninterrupted bonding time.” That meant no cell phones, no computers, no nothing—not even other people, except for their pesky little brothers, who hardly counted. Their fathers had their cell phones for emergencies, and Nicky’s dad always brought his rifle. Why, the girls didn’t know, since nothing was in season to hunt, and the Berkshires were not exactly known for harboring dangerous predators. The few bears that still roamed the mountains were all hibernating comfortably in their dens.
It could have been worse, Nicky and Teri knew—they could have been forced to share a tent with their eight-year-old brothers instead of with each other. But thankfully, the boys were in tents with their dads.
The six of them had spent the last couple hours sitting around a blazing campfire, taking turns telling scary stories. Most of the stories were pretty lame, but Teri’s father raised some goose bumps with a tale of a crazed psychopath who preyed on campers, dragging them from their tents back to a cave where he slowly ate them alive. By the time he was done, the youngsters found themselves peeking over their shoulders into the darkness.
“When do you think we’ll be old enough so we won’t have to come out here anymore,” Teri asked Nicky. “I hate not being able to text, or talk, or even email my friends.”
Both girls had their flashlight turned on beside them, illuminating the inside of their tent while they talked.
“Me, too,” Nicky said, reaching one arm out of her sleeping bag and into her backpack. “That’s why I snuck this into my pack this year.” She pulled out her cell phone.
Teri gasped. “I can’t believe you brought that. Your dad will kill you if he finds out.”
“I know, right? But no way am I going all weekend without at least texting Adam.” Nicky’s fingers began pecking at her phone. “Not when we’ve only been going out two weeks. I don’t want him to forget about me.”
“I can’t believe you’re dating a senior. That’s way cool.”
“I know. And he’s sooo cute, too.”
“Shhhh…what was that?” Teri asked anxiously. She pushed her shoulders up out of the sleeping bag and propped herself up on one elbow. The frigid night air immediately seeped in through her sweatshirt.
“What was what?” Nicky asked, shoving her phone back into her pack.
They listened in worried silence. Something was moving around outside, like footsteps on the dead leaves, but not quite footsteps—an animal of some kind, maybe? A dark shadow crossed in front of the moonlight that painted the front of their tent, growing larger as it moved nearer. The shadow seemed human in shape, but it was making an eerie, moaning kind of sound, like an animal in distress.
Nicky aimed her flashlight at the zippered front flaps. “Dad, is that you?” she asked quietly, thinking one of their fathers was out there trying to frighten them. The shadow was much too big to be one of the boys. “Mr. Smith?”
Whoever was out there began pawing at the entrance to the tent. Nicky grabbed her pack and scrabbled for her phone.
“Dad? Mr. Kappes?” Teri said urgently “Stop it, please. This isn’t funny. You’re scaring us. I mean it. Stop!”
The zipper began to slowly rise, moving up unevenly in fits and starts, as if whoever was outside could not quite get a proper grip on it. Terrified, both girls shined their flashlights at the entrance. When the zipper was half way up, a face poked into the opening. The girls screamed.
The face was more horrible than anything either of them had ever seen. One eye socket was empty, surrounded by an ugly red and yellow fibrous scab. The thing’s grayish skin seemed to be rotting away, exposing pieces of bone and skull. Its lips were gone as well, revealing hideous yellow teeth. Dark yellow saliva so thick it looked more like mucus dripped from the upper teeth. The awful moaning sound grew louder as the creature continued pulling at the entrance flaps.
Suddenly, the thing disappeared, jerked away from the entrance by Mr. Smith.
“Get out here, girls, now!” he shouted.
Nicky and Teri scrambled from their sleeping bags. Nicky yanked the zipper on the front flap all the way up and the two girls tumbled out into the darkness. A gunshot echoed through the night, first one, then another and another.
More of the hideous creatures lurched across the campsite, each one as frightening and ugly as the one who had tried to get into the girls’ tent. Kappes was shooting at them. His bullets thudded into the creatures with a wet, sickening sound, but the gunfire seemed only to slow them, not stop them. The two boys were huddled behind him, and Smith was wrestling with the creature he had pulled away from the tent.
Nicky had seen enough horror movies to know what was happening. It was impossible, but the campsite was being attacked by zombies! Never in a million years would she have believed it.
“You have to shoot them in the head, Dad,” she shouted, recalling the movies she had seen. People always shot the creatures in the head. “In the head—it’s the only way to stop them.”
Kappes shoved the two young boys back toward the girls.
“Take care of your brothers,” he ordered. “Get them to the car!”
He raised his aim and shot the nearest zombie in the face. The creature crumbled to the ground. The girls and their brothers remained frozen behind him.
“I said get to the car!” he screamed again. “And if anything comes near you other than one of us, drive out of here. That’s an order.”
Nicky and Teri grabbed their brothers and scrambled toward the SUV, parked at the edge of a dirt parking lot nearly a hundred yards away. Luckily, there were no zombies in this direction. Gunfire continued to split the night. The boys were screaming. Nicky climbed behind the wheel and tossed her cell to Teri.
“Call 911,” she said as she started the engine and turned on the headlights.
The gunfire suddenly stopped. Nicky hoped her dad hadn’t run out of bullets, or worse. Two dark figures lumbered toward the car, still too far away to recognize. She prayed it was her father and Mr. Smith.
More than a hundred miles to the south and east, Leesa’s eyes shot open.