The chainsaw nut-job came charging over, chainsaw roaring.

  A red glow flared in the mummy’s sunken sockets.

  And just like that, the chainsaw maniac froze on the spot.

  His hand, gripping the chainsaw, started to shake like a leaf.

  Then, as if possessed, he hoisted the chainsaw and went to town on himself.

  “Buzz... buzz...”

  The chainsaw screamed.

  Next second, it was a bloodbath.

  The chainsaw was buried in his waist, chewing deeper.

  With the chainsaw vibrating, blood gushed out like a geyser.

  Billy Jean watched the gory horror show and gulped hard.

  With the last bit of flesh severed, the top half of the chainsaw maniac’s body keeled over, but his upper torso stayed pinned.

  It was like a scene straight out of a slasher flick.

  “Roar... Roar...”

  The chainsaw maniac was still clutching the chainsaw, swinging it around, snarling at the mummy like a rabid dog.

  Dragging his mangled half, he clawed his way towards the mummy.

  The chainsaw scraped the floor, spitting sparks.

  He got to the mummy and raised the chainsaw to take a whack at the mummy’s leg.

  Instead, in a sick twist, it carved into his own head.

  “Buzz... buzz...”

  Brains splattered, and his eyeballs bounced away.

  Billy Jean backed up a few steps.

  “Roar... Damn! That’s brutal."

  The mummy’s mojo was seriously freaky.

  Good thing she didn’t have to tussle with it.

  Otherwise, with her skills, she’d be toast.

  With the chainsaw psycho down for the count, the hidden zombies came out of the woodwork.

  The nightmare was over for the hospital zombies.

  They whooped and hollered.

  Finally, Billy Jean and the mummy left the hospital, with a zombie fan club seeing them off.

  Michael Joke had been camped out in the car, eyes glued to the hospital.

  His ride had top-notch seals and defenses.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Even with a mob of zombies circling, he wasn’t sweating bullets.

  Seeing Billy Jean and the mummy stroll up, the tension in his jaw eased.

  But when he saw the blood on Billy Jean, his brow furrowed.

  Was she hurt?

  Billy Jean and the mummy climbed in, and the zombies scattered.

  Their vibe was freaking the regular zombies out.

  Billy Jean swung the door open and hopped in.

  The mummy was already planted in the middle.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Michael Joke blurted out.

  “No, it’s not my blood.” Billy Jean said.

  “We ran into a chainsaw-wielding zombie back there. The mummy made short work of it. It was wild.”

  The mummy felt a frosty stare and hunched up, trying to play invisible.

  “We tracked down Loree. The address is Room 1201, Building 18, Garden Community.”

  Billy Jean glanced at the form and said.

  “Let’s get it home.”

  Michael Joke fired up the engine and hit the gas.

  Billy Jean: ??

  Why did he seem a bit miffed?

  Who ruffled his feathers?

  As they neared Garden Community, Billy Jean noticed the mummy getting twitchy.

  “Roar... What’s eating you? You okay?"

  “Crackle... I... I..."

  The mummy was all thumbs.

  It didn’t even know what was bugging it.

  It had been dying to get home, but now that it was close, it was getting cold feet.

  Billy Jean got where the mummy was coming from.

  It wasn’t human anymore and looked like something out of a nightmare.

  If its family was still kicking and saw it like this, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what would go down.

  “Michael, there’s a supermarket up ahead. Pull over.”

  “What for?”

  “To spruce up the mummy.”

  Billy Jean eyed the mummy and said.

  It couldn’t turn back into a regular Joe, but at least it could look less terrifying.

  The military vehicle screeched to a halt in front of the supermarket.

  The entrance was a mess.

  Plastic bags, food wrappers, empty bottles, you name it, strewn all over.

  A few busted shopping carts were lying around.

  There were also seven or eight zombie carcasses at the door.

  Judging by the blood, they hadn’t been dead long.

  The rolling shutter was bent out of shape.

  One corner was pried open, leaving a gaping hole.

  Couldn’t see squat inside.

  “Let’s roll. Let’s check it out.”

  Billy Jean said as she hopped out.

  Michael Joke followed suit, then stashed the car in his space.

  A human, a zombie, and a mummy squeezed through the hole and into the supermarket.

  It was dim as a dungeon inside, but they could see it had been trashed.

  Must’ve been picked clean by countless looters.

  Blood and bones were scattered like confetti.

  All the shelves were bare.

  Some were toppled, some were busted.

  Bits of ceiling plaster had caved in.

  There were odds and ends on the floor, like steel wool pads, pot scrubbers, clothes hangers.

  Before the apocalypse, these were household staples.

  Now? Nobody would touch them with a ten-foot pole.

  Although it was only one floor, the supermarket was huge.

  Billy Jean and the gang walked in.

  Turning a corner, they heard shouting and cussing and a woman’s weak plea.

  Walking further, they saw four or five men and women up ahead, laying into a scrawny woman.

  They were hurling insults like there was no tomorrow.

  “You ugly hag, old sow. Fork over the goods. We cleared out the zombies, and you think you can just waltz in and freeload. You’ve got some nerve. Hand it over, or you ain’t leaving.”

  “Looking like death warmed over and being so sneaky. Didn’t anyone tell you not to steal?”

  “Beat her to death. Screw it. Supplies are scarce, and this woman is hoarding.”

  The woman was curled up on the ground, clutching a pack of compressed biscuits for dear life.

  Her voice, drowned out by the angry shouts, was weak and feeble.

  “I didn’t steal. I moved heaven and earth to get this. I didn’t steal. Please let me go. I’ve got kids waiting for me at home. Please.”

  “Still saying you didn’t steal. We cleared the zombies, so everything’s ours. Give me the biscuits.”

  A buzz-cut guy reached for them.

  The thin woman held on tight, crying and begging,

  “Please have mercy. I haven’t eaten in days. I just took one pack. I won’t take any more...”

  “Bitch, let go.”

  The buzz-cut guy slapped her so hard her body went flying and hit the ground, spitting blood.

  She was still gripping the biscuits.

  The buzz-cut guy was fuming.

  Since she wouldn’t let go, he whipped out a steel knife and stalked towards her.

  “Die, ugly woman.”

  He raised the knife and was about to plunge it into her when his hand froze mid-air.

  Then he felt like his hand was being puppeteered.

  The knife tip was now aimed at him.

  He stared in horror.

  “No...”

  Before he could finish, the knife sank into his chest.

  “Stab...”

  His pals’ eyes were as big as saucers.

  They watched the nightmare unfold, disbelief written all over their faces.