The Pied Piper of the Undead
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About this ebook
Peter is 13 years old. He is also the only survivor in his hometown, Rockville, of the zombie apocalypse. With the streets overrun by undead residents, Peter has taken refuge on the town's water tower. Safe from the hungry zombies, he passes time playing video games and eating junk food.
But as the familiar citizens become more fixated on young Peter, he finds he will have to make a choice that could change his life for better or worse.
The Pied Piper of the Undead is 16,000+ words.
This work is for mature readers and contains adult content and language.
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Book preview
The Pied Piper of the Undead - Michael Whetzel
For George Romero
I.
Peter looked out from the platform of the water tower. He grabbed another handful of chips from the bag sitting next to him and slammed them into his mouth. He was 13 years old; slightly pudgy for his age, with fair skin and shaggy blond hair. He wiped the grease from his fingers on his shirt. The shirt was one of his favorites, a worn blue T-shirt with the Batman logo starting to flake off. He had only brought four shirts from the house and was thinking he might go back and get some more of his clothes. But that would have to wait for another day. Today he was heading elsewhere.
He munched another handful of chips. They were salt and vinegar flavored. It was his favorite kind and part of today’s themed meal plan: Crunchy Chip Day. This morning for breakfast he wolfed down two small bags of Ranch Doritos (with a large can of lukewarm Mountain Dew). Lunch would be the rest of the bag he was working through. Supper would be tortilla chips and hot corn chips.
The previous day had kicked off theme week. Peter decided he would start with Cookie Day and had enjoyed copious amounts of chocolate chip, oatmeal, and snicker doodle treats. It had gone well and the only discomfort he felt was a bit of indigestion before bedtime. But oh well. What the hell else was he going to eat? It was going on three months up on the tower and it wasn’t like a McDonald’s was still open down the street.
He finished the chips and crumpled up the bag into a small ball. Standing at the safety railing, he flung the bag out into the open air. He watched it flip and turn; the bag beginning to un-ball itself. It landed a few yards from the base of the tower.
Right at the feet of Sandy Kramer.
She was looking up at Peter through her one working eye. The other was nothing but an empty socket, located above the rotting hole of her cheek. Something white glistened in the sunlight, and Peter realized it was Sandy’s teeth reflecting through her destroyed face. She stood unmoving, in a ratty summer dress, flies buzzing around her face.
Hello, Sandy,
Peter said. She did not respond. Zombies could not speak. Or maybe they chose not to.
Sandy was considered the prettiest girl at Nathaniel Turner Middle School. The other young men in Peter’s grade fawned all over her, offering to carry her books home from school or buy her ice cream at lunch. It made Peter sick inside. He was attracted to Sandy, but did not want his balls in a sling.
Carter told him that one. They got a good laugh during lunch at the poor poser running to the ice cream cooler.
She’s got his balls, Peter. Wrapped tight.
Carter pointed at the love struck teen. Peter always laughed at his friend’s snide comments. He missed Carter.
Sandy was pretty. Key word being was. Currently, Sandy Kramer was running for the most unattractive thing Peter had seen all week. The rot on her face was disgusting. Pus oozed from the eye socket and her nose was little more than two holes in the middle of her face. The reflecting teeth were proving to be hypnotic.
What do you want, Sandy?
Peter spoke again. It was not unusual for the zombies to come and visit. It was always the same thing though. They just stood and stared up at him. Waiting for something interesting to happen.
The whole wide world is probably full of zombies. And I got stuck with the dumb ones. The thought popped into his head a lot when he was canvasing the town. They were incredibly stupid. They moved slowly, lumbering around like overdosing drug addicts, drooling all over their stained clothes. They were only dangerous if you got close enough or were overwhelmed by sheer numbers. But even then they were really slow.
He was sure they wanted to eat him. He witnessed plenty of zombies eating humans when the shit went down. That was before anyone knew what was happening. By then it was too late.
Sandy stood and stared at Peter. He sipped some cola from a bottle and belched loudly.
Hey, Sandy. Show me your tits!
Peter smiled. Sandy hit puberty hard last fall and her developing breasts were a popular subject around the hallways then.
Peter looked at her chest. They were lopsided and one seemed to be....missing?
On second thought, never mind,
he said. Why don’t you go over to the ice cream shop with the rest of your friends? I got things to do.
The zombies seemed to be attracted to the bright colors of the shop. It sucked for Peter. He wanted to check the freezers to see if they were still working. Ice Cream Day would be an