Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve Atlantic Supermarket is about a mile from the Town Square, but it's worth the journey because the shopping carts are enormous. I'm following one of our usual The Streets Are Lava routes. I make quick progress, moving from the Taco Bell to the bank, then swinging from Dandelion's Ice Cream to the post office. Usually me and my buds would all work together to make it across—but now I'm playing solo. And that's good—it's important I learn to do things alone, since once that radio starts doing radio things, who knows what the future holds? I might be doing a lot of things by myself. Things like swinging from lampposts and landing totally awesomely like Spider-Man...

I make it—painfully—to the roof of Atlantic Supermarket. I glance over the side and see zombies galore pawing at the doors. No problem—I'll grab the carts, leave out the back, and speed all the way home. I snap open the roof's access panel and slip inside like a post-apocalyptic cat burglar. The store has been picked over. The aisles are littered with microwave popcorn kernels and rotting fruit, and the store stinks of spoiled milk. The odor is overpowering—thankfully, I quickly find two shopping carts. I'm pushing them toward a rear exit when I pass a towering shelf loaded with Capri Sun. Capri Sun is just what I've been craving since my first radio panic moment. At the very top is my favorite flavor: Pacific Cooler. I scramble up, unable to resist. But as I leap down, there's a sudden SNAP! I tumble back—the huge shelf is falling! It topples into the next, like dominos, one by one, until the final shelf CRASHES through the front doors. Oh no. Not good.

The front door was keeping the zombies out. And I just put a shelf through the front door! There's a tremendous howl as a hundred undead mouths open wide. The horde lurches and shambles through the door. Snarling, hands raised, charging toward me.

I swallow hard and pull out the Louisville Slicer. It will be just me against hundreds of rotting monsters, but at least I'll go down fighting. But then I hear the thunderclap. The beating of wings. The King Wretch. With one massive, snapping chomp, the King Wretch devours a dozen zombies. A simple swallow, sucking them down. He grabs another dozen, chomping them like a T. rex, then swinging his neck and hurling them through the door. Wait ...Is he ...Is he saving me? The heavy stench of evil in the air sends the remaining zombies shuffling away in fear. The King Wretch squeezes into the store. Bony wings shred the ceiling as the monster stomps toward me. But this time, the King Wretch doesn't just stare at me.. ..His talons punch me square in the chest. I hit the cold floor and the claws tighten, digging into my shoulders. Hot saliva drips from the King Wretch's fangs and splashes against my cheek. The monster's eyes are swirling pits of darkness, and they draw me

in. I can almost hear some goofy hypnotist saying, "You're getting very sleepy...." Because that's what's happening. All sound fades. The eyes. The eyes of the King Wretch are snapping and flashing like lightning—and I can't pull myself away. I hear one sound. A sound inside my head: a BOOM, and I'm suddenly transported.

I'm in the Town Square, again. The air stinks of evil and foulness. I taste something tart on my tongue, like milk gone