‘SWIM!’ cries Gilleon.

We shoot out of the principal’s office and zoom through the admin building.

‘What now?’ I ask, looking around as we burst through the main doors. My fins are trembling so bad I think they might fall off.

‘Let’s go into town,’ suggests Hunter, looking as scared as I feel. ‘Maybe we can find a police officer.’

When we get there, a shiver snakes down my spine. Just like our school, the streets are completely empty.

Suddenly we hear something coming from uptown.

We wait nervously in the middle of the empty road, our tailfins shaking.

Then we see it – a giant crowd of sharks, coming up over the rise.

‘Look!’ shouts Gill in delight. ‘Everyone’s back! See? They were all probably getting pedicures at the mall or something.’

‘The whole town?’ says Hunter, looking doubtful.

Gnash gasps. ‘Uh-oh,’ he says. ‘Them not sharks. Them Z-Z-ZOMBIES!’

Gnash is right.

Marching towards us is the entire town of Chumville. And every single shark has been turned into a ZOMBIE, just like Principal Flotsam!

At the front is Mayor Dorsaldoff, groaning and moaning. Behind him is Mr Rodney, then Dim Wittleson, our school bully.

Then my mum and dad, and all my brothers and sisters. Even my pet prawn, Justin, has been zombiefied.

It’s a total ZOMBIE-POCALYPSE.

Then Hunter frowns. ‘Has anyone noticed anything weird about these zombies?’ she asks. ‘Their moans are super off-key?’ says Gill.

‘They’re not trying to eat our brains?’ I suggest.

‘Not paying parking fees?’ says Gnash.

‘No, not that,’ says Hunter. ‘They’re all wearing headphones. And not just any headphones … Killer Wails’ headphones.’

We look around. Hunter’s right! Even Justin is wearing teeny little headphones. (They are SO cute. Come on, Finley, focus!)

‘Hey, check this out!’ I zoom towards an electronics store.

‘The Killer Wails are on every channel.’

Gill frowns. ‘Wait, isn’t that the same music video Principal Flotsam was watching?’

‘You’re right,’ I say. ‘But why can’t we hear anything?’

Hunter looks from the screens to the zombie sharks behind them, her eyes narrowed. Then she gasps. ‘Of course,’ she says, ‘it’s the headphones. The Killer Wails must be transmitting their songs directly to them, and somehow it’s turning everyone into mindless zombies!’

‘But how?’ I say.

‘Music frequencies,’ says Gnash.

Hunter’s eyes light up. ‘That’s it, Gnash! Music is broadcast using certain frequencies. The Killer Wails must have altered the radio signals!’

‘So instead of sending out music,’ says Gill, ‘they’re sending out radio signals that hijack brain waves? Ew!’

Hunter nods. ‘Which means right now we’re the only sharks in Chumville who aren’t under their mind control.’

‘Brain waves and mind control…’ I muse. ‘Just what are The Killer Wails up to?’

Gilleon peers closer at one of the TV screens. ‘Wait a second … this is a live recording,’ he says. ‘And it’s coming from Snappy Tunes Recording Studio.’

‘Come on!’ says Hunter, getting a gleam in her eye. She starts swimming towards Cray Mart. ‘We’ve got to get to the studio and end that transmission. But first,’ she adds, ‘we’re gonna need some earmuffs.’