My Second Zombie Attack
If you haven’t, be sure to read the beginning!
Scruffy and I were walking down the road. It had been 28 days since he had become a zombie dog, but I didn’t care. If that meant that I had to tie a loop of rope around the end of a piece of wood and walk him down the sidewalk ten feet in front of me, that’s what I was going to do. I made sure to notify kids walking by that he should not be pet. Scruffy is not good with children. I had tried to let children pet him, but unfortunately for them, Scruffy only saw them as delicious cranberry’s (zombies love cranberries), and ate them. All twelve of them. I was upset to find out that the first eleven children Scruffy had eaten had not been flukes.
We were heading down to the pet store, because I had recently decided that Scruffy needed a play mate that wasn’t dead. We arrived at the pet store and Scruffy began to act up, as he does when there is fresh meat around, “No no Scruffy, you can’t eat the birdies” I told him. This only seemed to anger him. Fine I thought, if Scruffy isn’t going to behave then he’ll just have to wait outside. After much struggling I managed to tie him to a stroller. Just because Scruffy doesn’t get along with children doesn’t mean he won’t get along with babies.
I made my way inside and stepped up to the counter. “Hello, sir, I’m looking for a good friend for my zombie dog” I had only recently found out that people do not react well to zombie dogs, but I also know that lying is bad, so I grew quieter at the mention of zombie.
“What was that sir? A what dog?” The clerk inquired.
“A uhh… a zombie dog” I told him, looking at some brochures for purchasing a platypus, “Would a platypus be a good friend for a dog?” I showed him the brochure.
He looked at me quizzically, “Well first off sir, that is actually just a picture of a duck, sitting next to a beaver, it is not a platypus. Second off, if you do have a zombie dog, might I suggest the gun store across the street? Shotgun shells make excellent friends for zombies” He looked past me.
I turned around. “Is that your dog?” He asked me sounding worried.
“Yes” I replied.
“Is it running towards me or you?” He asked. I decided that now would be a good time to go to the back of the store and hide in a gerbil tank. Scruffy had somehow managed to make the baby carriage mobile and was running into the store. ‘What kind of person makes a baby carriage with wheels?’ I thought to myself as I dived into the tank. The gerbils were displeased, so I tossed them out of the tank. I could see that Scruffy was becoming friends with the shop keeper with his teeth.
A gerbil bit me on my hand. I grabbed it and chucked it, hitting Scruffy on the back of the head. He turned around and somehow saw me in the gerbil tank. This was when I realized that the tank was made of glass and that I had been watching Scruffy through the clear walls.
Scruffy turned around and ran towards me, dragging the carriage behind him. He jumped and hit the glass. He fell down on the ground, got up, and jumped into the glass again. He did this again. And then again. And then again.
Six hours later it was beginning to get dark out. “Come on Scruffy. How about you stop, and on the way home we can go to the grocery store and pick up some cranberry’s. Would you like that?” I turned to the recently reanimated corpse of the clerk, “You can come too”. Neither of them seemed to care. I was now getting tired, so I closed my eyes.
I woke up and Scruffy was no longer moving. Neither was the shop keeper. Perhaps they have fallen asleep, was my first thought, but then I realized that Scruffy had never gone *BANG* *BANG* before, and he had most certainly not fallen asleep since becoming a zombie. I flipped the tank and crawled out. I walked out of the store and ran into a guy holding a shotgun. He turned around and aimed it at my face. He lowered it.
“Come with me if you want to live” He said.
Not one to turn down people who quote The Terminator, I followed.