Chapter 2

chapter two As soon as we're through the door, we start searching for cover. Quint silently points to a row of shelves filled with bowling shoes. Getting there is a claustrophobic nightmare— kinda feels like Best Buy on Black Friday. We're forcefully pushing ourselves through the zombie horde, trying to reach our safe place. But we're lucky—the zombies leave us alone. The horde is morphing from a huge mushed-up mash to one organized line. They are drawn by something we don't see or hear—and they're shuffling away from the entrance and toward the old arcade and snack bar room. When the last zombie has turned the corner, I realize that this whole place is emptier than I expected—by a lot. And most important —no sign of Evie or Ghazt. Ghazt was scared of the Slicer last time, so all I gotta do is show it to him again—and he'll

vamoose! But first we gotta find him. "Guys, it's quiet," I say. "Too quiet." Dirk shoots me a confused look. I see sweat pouring off his face in fat droplets. Quiet. Don't you guys hear that? People like mumbling, talking? Ah, no. Dirk frowns, getting sweatier, then quickly says, "Oh OK me neither just wanted to make sure." "Guys!" Quint says in a whisper. He's using an old selfie stick with a mirror to peek around

the corner. "The zombies all went into the arcade. But there are ZOMBIE GUARDS at the doors!" I scooch over and glance in the mirror. I see four zombies, standing watch, wearing hooded robes.... Those robes—I realize they're just like the ones we saw in Evie's book. She's drafting these zombies into her Cabal of the Cosmic!

OLD-TIMEY MEMBERS OF THE CABAL OF THE COSMIC! WAY BACK IN THE DAY. The Cabal of the Cosmic was a group of crazy-pants people from the olden days who were obsessed with bad dudes like .e...c. the Ancient, Destructor of Worlds. Evie found their old book, full of information and instructions. (It's OK, though—we stole the book from her and now we have our own guide to .e...c.'s world of cosmic horror.) "Guys," I whisper, nodding toward the arcade snackbar, "I think that's Ghazt's real home base." "A villainous lair inside a villainous lair?" June asks. "How many villainous lairs does one interdimensional rat monster need?" Quint responds, "The answer, it seems, is two." "If we're gonna sneak in and crash their evil party," I say, "we need to blend in like undercover super spies."

I lock eyes with June—and she gets it, right away. We gotta take out these guards, triple- ninja-style, and steal their dirty duds. June nudges Quint. He pulls a whiffle ball box from his action-geek bag. But inside is no ordinary whiffle ball. Inside is the— Whiffle Meatball Guaranteed to get ANY zombie's attention! Rotten ham, mule worms, Jelly beans. "I'll roll," Quint says. "And I'll take 'em out," June adds. With that, it's meatball away. Quint bowls it toward the arcade. It rolls past the blue-cloaked

zombie guards.... They look around, sniffing, then a moment later— Ma gro he. The guards stagger after the ball, hunched over, bony fingers grabbing and scraping. One finally collapses onto the ball, like it's trying to recover a fumble in the end zone. All four of them begin gnawing at the thing—sucking on the whiffle meatball. Bingo. A very gross bingo. June smiles. "I got this next part..." she says, and lifts her torn zombie sleeve to reveal