A short while later, Mr. Clarke’s minivan slowed to a stop next to the barbed-wire fence surrounding the runway of Phoenix’s International Airport. Zoe, Rice, Ozzie, and Zack hopped out, and Zack stretched his legs in the hot morning sun.
It felt good.
“You really know how to fly one of those?” Zack asked Ozzie, peering at the big commercial jets parked on the other side of the fence.
“Relax, Zack.” Ozzie stuck one foot onto the metal mesh and pulled himself up with both hands. “I’ve had my pilot’s license since I was, like, ten years old.” Ozzie scaled up the tall fence easily, straddling the barbed wire at the top.
Rice nudged Zack. “I can’t do that,” he whispered. “Can you do that?”
“I don’t think so, man,” Zack said, looking up at the sharp spiral wire.
Ozzie dropped down on the other side of the tall barrier. “All right now, Zoe. Throw Twinkles to me. But make sure you throw him high enough, cuz…”
“No prob, Bob.” Zoe turned her back to the security fence and arched her neck backward so she was looking upside down through the fence. “Ready?” She took a wide stance and cradled the puppy in the space between her knees. Twinkles flattened his ears, boggle-eyed with fear.
“Zoe,” Zack said. “Don’t even think about it.” His sister smiled her sinister smile.
“Zoe, don’t!” Zack commanded.
She lobbed the little Boggle skyward.
“Yip, yip, yip!” Twinkles bow-wow-wowed over the high, treacherous fence. Ozzie caught the yelping pooch on the other side, and Twinkles hopped safely to the ground.
“Ladies first,” Zoe said, pushing past the boys. She shot up the fence next and paused at the top, looking down at Zack and Rice.
“Are you doofuses coming or what?” Zoe began to scale down the opposite side. “Or is it ‘doofi’? Because of, like, ‘cactuses,’ which is actually ‘cacti’…” She found her footing back on solid ground. “You know what I mean, though—right, doofi?”
“How did she do that?” Rice asked. “She’s like a freakin’ acrobat.”
Zack tried to climb up the fence next. It didn’t go very well. He dropped down. It went from bad to pathetic when Rice tried next, failing miserably.
“Sorry, guys.” Ozzie shrugged. “It looks like you two are gonna have to go through the airport. We’ll get the plane and meet you at the boarding gates at the far end of the terminal.”
“You’re going to leave us?” Rice asked nervously.
“We can’t risk getting bitten just because you guys are out of shape,” Zoe explained.
“Plus, I’m the only one who knows how to fly,” Ozzie added.
“He’s right, Zack,” said Rice.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be there,” Zack called after Ozzie and Zoe.
“Check you on the flip side, turd brains,” Zoe said, and frolicked off after Ozzie.
Twinkles barked and made a sad puppy face at Zack through the fence.
“Go on.” He shooed the little dog away with his hand. “You can’t come with us. Uncle Ozzie will take care of you…. Go!”
Twinkles ran away, then stopped and turned to look back.
“Go!” Zack commanded, and the confused little pup chased after Zoe and Ozzie.
“Come on, Rice. Let’s go,” Zack said. And they raced to the front of the airport terminal.
Zack and Rice paused halfway through the doors, holding their weapons from the school’s equipment room. The vast airport lobby bustled with the living dead. Dozens of airport personnel and frequent flyers tottered aimlessly around check-in counters slathered with guts. Stray body parts decorated the floor.
“Dude, we definitely need Ozzie…,” Rice said.
“Will you forget about your bromance for one second?” Zack said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“‘He’s right, Zack…. He’s right, Zack…,’” Zack said in a nagging voice. “You’re always agreeing with him.”
“What’s your problem, dude?” Rice defended himself. “He’s right a lot.”
Just then, a nearby zombie tourist caught sight of them and bellowed.
The rest of the zombies turned. “Whatever.” Zack sighed, gripping his bat. “Just run!”
They blasted into the mass of snarling beasts, bobbing and weaving their way toward the zigzagging security lane. The zombies swung their arms, but the boys batted them down like piñatas.
“Down there!” Zack pointed toward the lower level of the terminal. But a crew of zombie travelers trudged up the down escalator, slurping and slobbering.
More zombies poured in from the duty-free shop, cutting off their only other exit. Zack and Rice darted through the cordoned-off maze, racing to the security gate.
The zombies converged inward, knocking over the stanchions.
Zack and Rice were trapped, dead center, in a crazy cat’s cradle of black vinyl straps tightening around their legs.
“Keep your knees up,” Zack instructed, untangling his buddy from the tricky obstacle course. They high-stepped away from the zombie mosh pit toward the metal detectors.
“Hold it right there, kiddo!” An elderly airport security officer appeared out of nowhere. “Boarding pass and ID, please.”
“You’re not a zombie…,” Zack said, stunned. All around them, the undead staggered and swayed, but this old man was completely human. And completely oblivious to the zombie pandemonium coming their way.
“A what? What did you say?” The old man squinted at Zack. “Boarding pass and ID!” he repeated with more authority.
“Fine.” Zack took out his Velcro wallet and showed the man his library card. The man nodded.
“Take off your shoes and remove all metallic items from your person.”
“Sir, don’t you see all these crazy zombies behind us?” Zack asked.
“Huh?” The old crackpot cupped his ear.
“Just let us through!” Rice yelled, looking over his shoulder at the mad free-for-all raging out of control behind them.
“I’m sure you’re in a rush, but so are these good people.” He motioned to the zombies, then handed the boys each a gray plastic bin. “Don’t hold up the line, now.”
“But they’re not even people!” Zack told him.
“Son, this isn’t a joke. This is a matter of national security.”
Zack put his sneakers, baseball bat, and Swiss army knife in the plastic bin, slid it into the carry-on scanner, and stepped through the metal detector.
“Arms out,” the old man instructed. Zack groaned and put his arms out to the sides. The ancient security officer swiped the magnetic wand up and down his rib cage.
“Sneerglsplargh…raah!” The zombies reached out, grabbing and grunting, getting closer and closer with every moan.
Rice shuffled out of his shoes and tossed his backpack onto the conveyer belt. His zombie survival pack passed across the black-and-white X-ray monitor in negative. The screen showed the severed zombie fingertips twitching inside the Ziploc baggie, which also contained the diseased BurgerDog. A six-pack of snack-size potato chips lay crushed under the bottles of ginkgo biloba tablets. Crumpled homework assignments were crammed between an assortment of steel wool, duct tape, batteries, hand sanitizer, binoculars, a first aid kit, and a box of Twinkies.
“Mmm-hmmmmmm…” The old codger squinted at the X-ray as the zombies thrashed in the tangled lane behind them. “Please step through the metal detector, son.”
Rice took one giant step through the magnetic doorway and stood still. Beeep!
The guard motioned Rice back through the detector. “Empty your pockets and come through again.”
The zombies were a few feet away from devouring Rice.
“Sir, just let him through,” Zack pleaded. “They’re gonna rip his arms off!”
“I don’t make the rules, sonny boy. Again, please.”
The zombies were breathing down Rice’s neck—hot, pukey huffs of steam—as he frantically emptied his pockets of loose change and day-old Tater Tots. Behind him, a pale gray arm stretched out of its socket, reaching for Rice’s shirt collar. The undead fingers were pruned and wrinkly, as though they had been too long in the shower.
In a flash, Rice ducked down and whacked the old security officer in the shin with his field hockey stick just as another zombie arm swiped overhead, humming through the air. Rice dove through the X-ray machine, and the old man howled, hopping on one leg and shaking his fist.
“Zack!” Rice cried from inside the machine.
Zack looked at the X-ray of Rice’s skull. “Rice!”
“Zack!” Rice’s skeleton shouted hysterically from inside the machine. “I’m stuck!”
Zack reached in through the black rubber curtains and pulled Rice hard by the wrists. Just then, one of the zombies snatched Rice by the foot on the opposite side of the scanner.
“It’s got me!” Rice screamed.
“Hold on!” Zack braced the soles of his feet against the machine’s steel frame in a life-or-undeath tug-of-war. On a count of three, Zack yanked as hard as he could, and Rice came flying through the curtains, landing in a crumpled pile behind him. Zack skidded to get out of the way and fell with a thud on the hard smooth floor.
The zombie wriggled through the scanner, screaming like a mad demon.
Zack spotted his aluminum bat and pulled himself to his feet. He clobbered the screeching zombie, and then he rushed over to his pal.
“Rice? Dude?” Zack bent down and shook his buddy.
Rice’s head flopped to one side, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. Zack put his ear to his friend’s chest, listening for a heartbeat.
“Rice, this isn’t funny!”
But Rice wasn’t moving. He was completely limp, just lying there as the zombies raged behind the Plexiglas security divider.
“Rice!”