As they reached the landing, a body fell in front of them, almost hitting them. The zombie—a teenage boy—twitched frantically, trying to move his broken limbs.
“Sorry!” Firecracker yelled, looking at them over the balcony. “I didn’t know you were there.”
Charlie and Josh stepped over the z and ran up the rest of the stairs. Josh’s head still hurt, but it was clearing. When they met up with Firecracker in the second-floor hallway, he looked at the number on the nearest door.
“Room 237 is this way,” Firecracker said, pointing to the left. “And we should probably hurry. Company’s coming.”
Josh and Charlie turned and saw four zombies coming up the stairs, moving with surprising quickness. The three friends dashed down the hall, finding the room about halfway down. They’d passed the room during their sweep of the floor, but because it was locked, they had assumed it was zombie free. Digging the key from his pocket, Josh jabbed it into the keyhole and turned it. For a moment nothing happened, and Josh’s stomach sank. The four z’s were getting closer.
Then there was a click and the lock slid open. Firecracker and Charlie slipped into the room, with Josh entering last. He slammed the door shut and turned the lock just as a zombie face appeared in the window, pressing its bloody mouth against the glass.
Josh turned away from it and surveyed the room. They didn’t have much time. The z’s would either break the glass or break the door down. Whatever was in the room Josh and the others had to find it, and soon.
But the room was empty. Completely empty. There wasn’t a chair, a desk, a bed—not even any trash.
“What is this?” Firecracker said. He turned and looked at Josh. “I told you this was a trap. Now we’re stuck in here, and sooner or later those things are going to get in.” He pointed at the door, where the faces of two more zombies were peering in at them. They were also banging on the door, and it shook in its frame.
“Not so fast,” said Charlie. “There’s a closet.”
“Oh, a closet,” said Firecracker. “That makes everything better. We can just hide in there until the meatbags go away.”
Ignoring him, Charlie went to the door in the wall and turned the knob. She pulled the door open, stepping back in case there were any surprises inside. When nothing jumped out, she looked in.
“What is it?” Josh asked.
Charlie shook her head. “I’m not sure,” she answered.
“Well you’d better figure it out in the next thirty seconds,” said Firecracker. “That door isn’t going to hold.”
There was pounding on the door, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Outside, the zombies’ moans grew more frantic. “Like I said,” Firecracker yelped, pushing Charlie into the closet as he grabbed Josh by the wrist and pulled him inside too.
There was barely room for the three of them in the closet. Not that it really mattered. As far as Josh could tell, they were simply inside an ordinary closet, an empty ordinary closet. There were no weapons in it, not even coat hangers. The only thing in there was a single old-fashioned lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.
The sound of breaking glass came again, and Josh peered out to see a zombie reaching through the window of the room’s door and grabbing its doorknob from the inside. Soon the room would be filled with z’s, and there would be no escaping them this time. There were too many of them, and without weapons Josh and his friends would be zombie food.
Acting on instinct, Josh pulled the closet door shut as the first zombie staggered into the room. Now the closet was pitch black. Josh could hear himself breathing heavily as he thought frantically for some way out.
“I’m not dying in the dark,” Firecracker said, reaching up and pulling the frayed string attached to the lightbulb.
The light flickered on. A second later the floor fell away beneath them. Josh, Charlie, and Firecracker shouted in surprise as they plunged into darkness. Above them the light continued to burn but grew smaller and smaller as they fell.
A few seconds later, Josh landed with a thud on something soft. Charlie fell next to him, and Firecracker landed on top of them both. He rolled off with a grunt and sat up.
“Where are we?” he asked.
Josh looked around. They were on top of what seemed to be a pile of old mattresses—at least six or seven of them—in some kind of cellar. The mattress they were sitting on was stained, and it stank of mold and dirt. It sagged beneath their weight, and Josh had to roll to the left to get to the side and throw his legs over the side.
That’s when he saw the old ambulance. Large and white, it had a fat, round fender over each wheel and a long front end with circular glass headlamps that looked like eyes. A single red light stuck up from the roof. On the side door was painted a big red cross, and underneath that, in black, the words FEVERFEW ASYLUM.
Firecracker jumped down from the mattress and looked at the ambulance. “This thing must be at least a hundred years old,” he said.
Josh climbed down from the mattress pile and helped Charlie down as well. Once on the ground, Charlie eyed the ambulance doubtfully. “This is the big secret of room 237?” she said.
Firecracker, who had gone around to the other side of the ambulance, called out, “The keys are still in it!” Then the door beside Josh and Charlie opened. “Get in!” Firecracker ordered.
Josh looked at Charlie. “He’s got to be kidding.”
Before Charlie could answer, something fell onto the mattresses behind them. Josh turned and saw a zombie flailing around, trying to turn itself over. A second later another one fell from the hole in the ceiling, and then another.
Charlie looked at the ambulance, then at Josh. “I don’t think we have a choice.”
She and Josh climbed into the ambulance just as one of the zombies managed to roll off the mattresses. It lay on the floor for a moment, then moaned and got up. It turned its head toward the ambulance, where Josh was looking at it through the window.
“Can’t you get this thing started?” Josh asked as the z snarled and spat out strings of bloody drool.
Firecracker was turning the key in the ignition. The engine made choking sounds but didn’t start. More zombies had fallen to the floor, and now, attracted to the sound, they started congregating around the truck. There were half a dozen of them. They stared in the windows with milky yellow eyes, their faces only inches from the glass. Josh looked away.
“I don’t know what to do,” Firecracker said, his voice cracking. “This thing is ancient.”
“The clutch!” Charlie yelled. “Push in the clutch!”
Firecracker looked at her in bewilderment. “The what?”
Charlie pointed to one of the pedals near the floor. “You have to push that in and put the gears into neutral, otherwise you can’t start the engine.”
Firecracker pushed tentatively against one of the pedals with his foot. “This?” he said.
“Switch seats,” Charlie ordered, climbing over him.
Firecracker scooted next to Josh. “How do you know how to drive this thing?” he asked as Charlie fiddled with the pedals and pulled on the gearshift that rose up from the floor.
“My father has an old Mustang,” she said. “It was his father’s, and someday it will be mine. He taught me how to drive it when I was twelve.” She turned the key, and the engine sputtered. A zombie banged on the passenger-side window, which cracked.
“Go!” Josh said as the zombie hit the glass again. “Go, go, go, go, go!”
Charlie turned the key again. This time the engine rattled to life. The zombies began to bang on the ambulance, roaring angrily. The one outside Josh’s window hit the glass once more and it shattered, the pieces falling all over Josh’s lap. A rotting hand came through the opening, reaching for Josh’s hair. He smelled the stench of decomposing flesh.