Chapter 5

chapter five BIG SKULKER. MY AXE FINGER IS EXTRA ITCHY. SURPRISE ROOF ARRIVAL. "June!" Quint happily exclaims. "You had backup waiting?!" June grins. "Sure did."

I frown. "Was your backup plan code word 'JACK, IT APPEARS YOUR PLAN HAS FAILED?'" June shrugs. "It worked, didn't it?" "That is so messed up. But also I'm good with it 'cause it means I was not bluffing. YOU HEAR THAT, EVIE? I wasn't bluffing!" Evie just glares and leaps back. A thin layer of water is trickling up through the floor. Biggun's meteor-like landing weakened the ground. Ghazt descends from his disgusting throne. Bits of hardened cheese and melted chocolate stick to his fur. He snarls, "Seize them!" and his tail WHIP-CRACKS in the air. Instantly, the blue-robed zombies close in! "Dudes," I say. "I'm going for the tail! You keep the zombies busy!" "Happily!" Skaelka says. Biggun just grunts and begins hurling zombies right and left. June and Quint are back-to-back, battling the Cabal of the Cosmic. CRACK!

Ghazt's tail smacks me, and I'm hurled across the room. I land against a half-inflated pile of bowling lane bumpers. Ghazt strides toward me, wading through his battling zombie horde. He darts forward and slashes his fat claw in my direction. "Yikes!" I dodge the attack by ungracefully flopping to the floor. His gnarled nails slice open big blue bumpers. There's a loud hiss, then an angry snarl as Ghazt claws his way through shredded rubber.

YOU'VE SEEN WHAT I CAN DO. YOU KNOW MY POWER? And I know something else. I know this scares you. I jab the slicer, and Ghazt inches back. His whiskers twitch. His nose wrinkles. And a smile crosses his hideous face... "You know, Jack, during the horribly botched transference that brought me to your dimension, I adopted some of the rat's

qualities. Including smell; and I smell the fear on you now, boy." Just then, his beady eyes dart to the side— and his tail snaps. His powers seize a nearby zombie, and it's suddenly zipping across the room. But not toward me. Toward Quint. The zombie's feet skim the ground and its outstretched arms thrash. Its broken jaw snaps menacingly. "Murrrr!" "Quint!" I call out, but it's too late for any warning cries. The zombie is nearly upon my best buddy. A horrifying bolt of cold fear explodes inside my brain: the image of Quint being bitten, being zombified. I don't think. I simply act. I swing the Louisville Slicer toward the zombie, leaving a dark streak of energy in the air. And then—

I feel the Slicer catch—like the blade and the zombie are connected by some strange magnetism. And all around, it's like someone hit the PAUSE button on this battle. Everyone's looking at me. My arms are unsteady and there's a zombie, frozen, braced to pounce....