08 Zombie Halloween by R.L. Stine

Author:R.L. Stine [Stine, R.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

I stopped breathing again. I gripped the windowsill so tightly, my hands ached. I lurched backward, away from the window … away from the frightening sight of my grandfather floating along the tombstones.

Then I spun around and ran down the hall to my parents’ room. “Mom! Dad!” I screamed. I pounded their door with my fist.

After a few seconds, the door swung open. Dad poked his head out, blinking, his hair down over his eyes. “Kenny? Are you okay?”

“It … It’s Grandpa Mo!” I choked out. “Hurry. You’ve got to come. He … he’s in the graveyard.”

Dad blinked some more. “What time is it?”

“It doesn’t matter, Dad,” I said. I tugged at his pajama sleeve. “Grandpa Mo is in the graveyard. We have to get him.”

Dad shook his head hard, as if clearing his mind. “My slippers,” he said. He disappeared for a few seconds. Then he hurtled out into the hall, in his striped pajamas, bedroom slippers on his feet.

The two of us ran out of the house. I knew Grandpa Mo was in trouble. Something strange was happening to him. His wailing cries for help repeated in my brain.

Dad and I ran across the street. His slippers made a clack-clack sound on the pavement as he ran. I realized I was barefoot. The street felt cold under my feet. But I didn’t care. I just wanted to reach Grandpa Mo — before something terrible happened to him.

Dad and I ran under the trees at the edge of the graveyard. Above us, the leaves whispered and rattled.

The moonlight sent darting shadows all around us. The ground was hard dirt and weeds. Something scratched the bottom of my left foot, but I didn’t stop.

Grandpa Mo was at the far end of the row of tombstones. His white robe glowed in the moonlight. He was twisting around, his eyes rolling in his head.

I ran up to him, crying his name. “Grandpa Mo! Grandpa Mo!”

He turned his face toward me, but he didn’t seem to recognize me. His eyes were so pale, they appeared solid white. His chin trembled. His hair fluttered above his head in the steady breeze.

Dad came running up to us, gasping for breath. He took Grandpa Mo by the shoulder. Grandpa Mo stared blankly at him.

“Pops, you shouldn’t be out here,” Dad said. “Come with us. Kenny and I will take you home.”

Grandpa Mo nodded. But I still wasn’t sure he knew who we were.

He was wearing his white bathrobe. Dad saw that it was coming open, so he tightened the belt for Grandpa Mo. Without another word, we led him back to the house.

Mom and Tricia were waiting in the kitchen. We sat Grandpa Mo down at the kitchen table. “Mo, I’ll make you a cup of that green tea you like,” Mom said.

My grandfather nodded. He had one arm on the table. He rested his head in his hand. “I had a dream,” he said.

Dad sat down next to him. “A dream?”

Grandpa Mo nodded again. “I dreamed the zombies came for me again.

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