Stinky Squad

By DC Green

Chapter 1: Burp!

Spinner jerked awake and groped for his glasses. Two figures crashed through his bedroom door. They brushed off fragments and began to grapple, or possibly dance. Dust swirled through slats of morning sun. Glasses on, Spinner blinked. Festering skulls rotated toward him, their lips and eyelids rotted away, exposing teeth like claws and bulging eyeballs that could never blink. Spinner’s sphincter puckered.

Zombies!

But that’s... crazy? Spinner looked down. His blue hands looked normal enough, apart from the shaking rippling his silk pyjamas. He pinched one wrist. "Ow!" Super crazy! His eyes darted up.

Small Zombie struggled to bite Big’s bum. "Mmm!"

Spinner’s nostrils quivered. The rotting, wrestling corpses smelt like something a dog would dig up, and just as quickly bury again, whimpering.

"Brains... mmm." Big Zombie shoved Small Zombie through a cupboard and loomed over Spinner’s bed. "Must eat... brains!"

"Gahh!" Spinner squeaked and pulled his legs in.

Too slow. Big Zombie seized Spinner’s left foot. Zombie spit dribbled onto his toes. "Mmm... brains?"

Spinner’s stomach spasmed. He squinted at Big Zombie’s night-dress. "Mum...? Is that you? And... Suzy??"

Zombie Mum grimaced a hideous smile. "Join us... mmm... in death!" Her mouth creaked wide, a rat trap with bad plaque.

"Mum... You really need to floss!" Sweat blossomed across Spinner’s forehead. "Don’t bite meeeee!"

A familiar rumble surged in Spinner’s stomach, but with a tingling he’d never felt in his throat before. Projectile vomit erupted from his mouth. Unchewed chunks splashed against Spinner’s undead mum.

"Aaah, burnies!" Zombie Mum reeled back, clutching her smoking head.

"Um... that’s never happened before." Spinner’s heart sucked blood. "Mum?"

Spew rebound splashed onto the bed between Spinner’s legs. The doona fizzled. Spinner gawked. His vomit gobbled through feathers, two sheets, a mattress, then his bed base. Below the bed, carpet smouldered.

Spinner gaped at his disintegrating zombie mum. But then... NONE of this has ever happened before-

"Oooh... powers!" Zombie Sister, coated in splinters, shot Spinner a glance almost of respect.

Zombie Mum, head now blazing, paused to check her watch. "Mmm.... Must go. Must watch... TV."

"TV... Mmm." Zombie Sister agreed. The pair lurched out of Spinner’s bedroom, through the wall, leaving him spinning in his smoking bed.

"Acid vomit... zombie family... and it’s sport day at school. Has to be a nightmare... But then, I’ve already done the pinch test." Spinner glimpsed a chunk of vom-carrot on his leg.

"Gahh!"

He flicked. The carrot tumbled through dust eddies. It melted through Spinner’s Turbo Euroblaster boogie board and tumbled on through the wall, like it was made of wet tissue. Flames licked up.

Spinner scratched his ear. Huh? He checked where the vomit had squatted on his leg. Unmarked. Too early. Need coffee...

Spinner peered down the spew hole in his bed. His vomit splash had eaten clean through the carpet and floorboards below. Zombies in the kitchen and fire in the house. His mind tumble-turned. Time to leave the house.

Spinner climbed down his doona remnants. He crashed bum first in the dirt beneath his bedroom, next to a bubbling hole. How far would my vomit munch? Right through the core of the Earth to war-torn Orange Land?

Bent double, Spinner bumped toward the edge of the mansion. He squinted out. All clear. He scurried across the lawns that took the gardener a week to mow and ducked beneath the Oztrailer flag. It dangled limply. Spinner ran on, until he came to the perimeter hedge. On hands and knees, he peered out at his street.

Hairy purple postman legs lurched by. Spinner reeled back. Was the postie delivering zombie mail, dead on time?
A distant "mmm... hmm..." hummed. Or was that just electrical wires? The hum faded and the street fell silent, except for Spinner’s internal organs. His heart thumped and tummy grumbled.

Was that smoke rising from the mansion?

Nothing made sense! Yesterday, his mum and sister were annoying, but hardly zombies. And his vomit was mildly acidic, not a head-melting mutant death acid. Why had everything-

Of course! Spinner jolted. Today’s my birthday! What a mad start to my teen years! He forced a chuckle. Such madness has to be the work of some beyond reality TV show! Or else this was all just another warped marketing stunt by Zombie Dave, maker of the finest chemical-enhanced lollies in Oztrailer. With Mum and Suzy in on the prank! Yes, this was all too unreal not to have TV involved. Spinner patted his spiky hair down and glanced around for hidden cameras-

A scream!

Soft at first, with the odd pause for breath, the scream closed in. Spinner crawled out from under his hedge and slipped between two luxury cars to peer toward the shabby side of town.

A gangly figure sprinted down his street. The teen screamer tripped across an intersection, almost splatting face first. He appeared more human than zombie... sort of. Spinner checked his patched pyjamas, ratty blanket worn cape-style and the object stuck to the side of his head. A pillow, dribbling lumps of coloured foam.

Spinner snorted as he recognised him: that purple loser in the year above him at school who thought he was so tough, even though he owned one of the most fertile crops of acne in the Southern Hemisphere. And a somewhat harsh but fair nickname.

"Hey, Zitron!" Spinner called, from between the Kruppsters.

Zitron stopped running, and screaming. "Who the...?" He panted, and leaned on a car for support. His eyes darted. His mouth scrunched up, a purple cat’s bum of confusion.

"Wanna borrow my glasses?" Spinner waved. "You need ‘em!"

"What the...?" Zitron focussed, recognised Spinner and shifted to mocking tone. "Oh, it's you... the fancy blue nerd who spins around and vomits so he can get out of sport."

"That’s why they call me Spinner." Spinner forced a laugh, though he wasn’t sure what was more dangerous: tricky zombies, or hidden TV cameras. "Though I only get out of lame school sports because I prefer the dangers of boogie boarding." Spinner tried to stand tall and confident, though he stood one ruler shorter than Zitron and was running on 100 % fake confidence. But Spinner was also famous in the school yard for his snappy put-down replies, and he had ample for the likes of this scrawnbag. "Um, did you know you have a pillow stuck to your ear?"

"Yeah, yeah." Zitron flicked at his pillow, knocking out more fluff. "I’m not an idiot, kid. While I slept, my pimple pus somehow glued this pillow to my noggin, and my back to this blanket." He wiped sweat off his zit-mountained face.
It seemed Zitron’s pus did not affect him. Hmm.

Zitron bent low. "Try to tear my pillow off, kid."

Spinner shrugged, grabbed the pillow and yanked. "Sure. Just don’t call me kid."

"Ow!" Zitron’s head jerked along for the ride. "Stop... kid! My neck just cracked in three places! You’re only making my pillow leak more fluff!"

"Shush!" Spinner waved his arms. "Believe me, you don’t want to disturb the neighbours!" Spinner’s stomach burbled again. He struggled to keep his expression casual. "Um, Zitron... why exactly were you screaming down my street?"

"Oh... that. Heh." Zitron darkened. "I awoke to find my dog Skull eating through my pillow to get at my brain."

Spinner pushed his face into a smile. "You expect me to believe your PET turned into a zombie?"

"Kid, the whole country has gone zombie!"

Spinner dropped his front. "You’re in on the joke too, aren’t you? Tell me!" He grabbed Zitron by his blanket. "There’s no zombie dogs in Oztrailer! No zombies at all!! And I don’t have acid death spew!!!"

"Whoa, kid. You don’t look so ho-"

"Urrrrlp-" Spinner ralphed. This time, onto the neighbour’s car. The car blew up, spinning Spinner and Zitron into the spiky hedge lining the footpath.

Boom-blackened Zitron boggled. "You DO have acid death spew!"

"This is a TV hoax!" Spinner paled. "Right, Zitron? Right!?" But Spinner knew in his gut no TV hoax could explain his deadly new spew... power?

Zombies burst out of every door along the street. Skulls pivoted and neck bones clicked. Undead eyes locked on Spinner and Zitron. As one, the zombies lurched toward them.

"No hoax this?" Spinner’s cunning tongue froze.

"Mmm... brains!"

Zitron massaged his forehead. "I don’t think I’ll be the same without my brain!"

"BRAINS!!"

Spinner moaned. "Why do they always have to say that?"


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