GRANDMA? Part 1 (YA Zombie Serial Novel) J.A. Konrath (best large ereader .TXT) 📖

funny little square on the upper left hand corner."

"North Dakota," I said.

"Squiggly edge on the east side."

"New Mexico."

"Square thing on the bottom, left side."

I closed my eyes, tried to picture a map of the US. Michigan looked like a mitten. Wisconsin looked like broccoli. Louisiana like a boot. Florida… well, Florida looked sort of like a schlong.

"Colorado," I finally said.

Josh's face scrunched up. "You're right. That's a rectangle."

"Told you."

"Maybe they keep zombies in Colorado, too."

"I hear you boys in there, debating theology and geography," Grandma bellowed through the door. "Stop it and let your poor grandmother in. She's starving."

"How about your pocket candy?" Josh asked her.

There was a pause. Then, "Randall ate it all."

Josh turned to me, angry. "You ate all the candy, Randall? You a-word!"

"I didn't eat the candy, Josh."

"Smell his breath, Josh," Grandma said. "Smells like peppermints, I bet."

"Let me smell your breath, Randall."

"That's insane!" I yelled, covering my mouth. I had eaten a peppermint a little while before Grandma had gotten attacked, and the scent might have still been on me. The last thing we needed right now was to argue.

"He took it all," Grandma said, "and when I told him to save some for his little brother, he said Josh stinks like poopy."

"I don't stink like poopy!" Josh yelled at me.

"I didn't say that, Josh. Can't you see what she's doing? Grandma is trying to drive us apart."

"Open the door, Josh!" Grandma screeched. "Then I can give Randall a spanking!"

I could see Josh was considering it. I had to find a way to save us, fast, before he betrayed me and got us both killed. My eyes searched the laundry room for some sort of weapon. All I saw were laundry supplies. I didn't think fabric softener would help in this situation. But above the supply shelf was…

A window.

It was only half size, leading into the window well right outside the kitchen. Josh and I liked to go in there sometimes because it always had awesome animals in it, like salamanders and frogs and mice.

"C'mon," I told my brother, grabbing his hand. "We're getting out of here."

I told him to climb the shelf and open the window. Josh surprised me by doing it without complaint.

BOOM!

The banging had resumed. I chanced a look at the door and saw one of the three hinges had fallen off.

"Hurry up, Josh."

"Randall!" he squealed.

"What?" I stared up at him, alarmed.

"There's a mouse nest in here! It's awesome!"

"We don't have time now, little brother."

"The mouse has a bunch of babies."

"Really? Lemme see." I hurried up the shelf next to him, looking at the nest. "Awesome."

"They're pink and don't have hair yet. Got your phone?"

"Way ahead of you." I used my phone to take a picture of the mice. Then the door burst inward with a giant BANG!

"We gotta go," I said.

"Don't step on the mice."

We climbed out of the window well, careful not to step on the mice. But once we were in the backyard, I wasn't sure where to go. Run into the woods? It was too easy to get lost. Plus, we didn't know if there were more zombies out there.

"We should hide," Josh said, "wait for Mom and Dad to get home. Dad will kick Grandma's ass."

Our father never really liked his mother-in-law.

"What if Grandma finds us?" I asked. "I think we should run."

"Where?"

I had no idea. And my foot was really starting to hurt. I seriously needed to get some shoes on. I remembered my flip flops were on the pier.

The pier…

The boat!

"C'mon!" I said, pulling Josh's arm. We ran to the stairs leading to the dock, me limping because the pain was so bad. The boat was a Bass Tracker, fourteen feet long, with a 40 horsepower Mercury engine. I carefully put on my sandals and we climbed aboard. I told Josh to untie us while I sat in the driver's seat, reaching for the ignition.

No keys.

"Josh, you need to stay here. I have to get the keys."

"Don't leave me again, Randall."

"I have to. I'll only be thirty seconds. Go ahead and count, like we're playing hide and seek. Go."

Josh began to count slowly. I jumped out of the boat and hobbled up the pier, heading for Grandma's house. She always kept the keys on the kitchen table.

I got to the patio door and paused, looking through the window. The kitchen was empty. I eased the door open, slipping inside, heading for the table.

No keys.

I began searching cabinets. I didn't find keys, but I did find Grandma's stash of hard candy. I grabbed a handful, shoving them into my pocket, pausing to eat one. (I had to, to get the smell of peppermint out of my mouth, so Josh didn't think I'd been eating candy.) Then I started going through the drawers, until I found one with keys in it.

About five thousand keys.

"Damn, Grandma. How many locks do you have?"

She must have saved every key she'd ever had, going back to World War II. The boat key had a yellow sponge thing on the key ring so I knew what to look for. No idea why it had that sponge thing, but I was glad it did because it made the keys easy to find. Once I grabbed them, I limped back onto the patio, but my way was blocked by Grandma and Phil.

"You're too young to take the boat out by yourself," Grandma said, wagging a finger at me and she moved closer. "Now give me the keys, and let me eat your face."

"I thought zombies ate brains," I countered.

"We do. But you, young man, don't have any."

Wow. Zombie Grandma was a jerk. And I'd spent $20 of my own money buying her slippers for Christmas.

"How did you become a zombie?" I asked Phil, purposely ignoring Grandma.

I was hoping he didn't say, "Jesus bit me." Not because of the religious ramification, but because I didn't want my little brother to be right.

"Ralph," he said. "Bit my arm."

I didn't know who Ralph was, and didn't really care.