Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Guest post: "Swarmed" A deleted scene from Detention of the Living Dead By Rusty Fischer

So guys, in a few days most of us are going to celebrate Halloween, right? And what better way to prepare ourselves that reading a guest post by an author whom writes about teenage zombies like nobody else?
Ladies and gentlemen, children and zombies of all the world, help me welcome Rusty Fischer, author of Detention of the Living Dead among many other zombie books!

Rusty: What would you do if you saw a fleet of military looking vehicles swarm over the back of your school as you practiced your soccer kicks? Would you run? Hide? Tell someone?

That’s the dilemma young Alaiel faces (hmmm, now why does that name sound so familiar?!?) (Alaiel: OMG, that's me guys! That's... wait a second, am I going to be surrounded by zombies?! Sweet!) as she runs drills after school, completely unaware that inside Catfish Cove High School there is a zombie infestation turning her classmates into the living dead.

That’s what happens in “Swarmed” a deleted scene that never quite made it into my new paranormal YA novel for Bono Books, Detention of the Living Dead. But now you can read it here on the Librarian Mouse blog, and only here, for the first time ever:



Swarmed
 A Deleted Scene from Detention of the Living Dead
by Rusty Fischer

I wipe the sweat out of my eyes and grab another soccer ball from the giant mesh bag at my feet. There are about seven balls inside the net, and four more sitting on the grass field just to the left of it.

I hear Coach Mulligan’s voice screaming in my ear with every kick: “More power, Alaiel! More! Power! You can do it, Alaiel! You! Can! Do! It!”

I try, I really do, but the more power I put behind it, the more each soccer ball veers off to the left. I have no idea why, and that’s why I’m out here, an hour after everyone else has gone home from school, practicing my power kicks.
The sweat stings my eyes but I’m used to it now and, besides, the sun’s gone down a lot since school let out. There is a nice breeze, the field’s empty and it’s just me out here. It’s kind of nice, actually, if I didn’t have notes to prepare for Chem Lab tomorrow and that oral report due in Sociology next Monday.

Still, the quiet time is nice. God knows my sister’s home from middle school by now, raising a ruckus when she sees Mom’s redecorated her room – again.
So, yeah, alone time + quiet time = good time.
I just wished all the balls could land inside the net. We’ve got that game against Central coming up next week, and I really want to start this time, and no way is that happening if I can’t score.
I kick another ball, it goes in, and I start to feel good. Then I kick two more, quick like that, and both land, again, just to the left of goal.

I reach for the mesh bag Coach lent me to practice with and find it empty. I groan, drag a sweaty arm across my sweaty forehead and run past the goal, gathering up all the balls that didn’t quite score and slipping them inside the bag. Then I grab the balls inside the goal and shove them in as well.
I’m reaching for the last one, the bag full to bursting and nearly twice my size by now, when I feel the rumbling on the grass field beneath my sweaty fingers.

I put my hand against the grass and it gets even thicker, like a freight train right beneath the surface of the practice field. A second later I hear the roar of engines and, I don’t know why, but I duck, crouching behind the massive bag of soccer balls like a cowboy hiding behind hid horse. (It’s almost as big and I’m just about as sweaty!).
Just as I’m peering over the top of the bag, feeling slightly – okay, completely – ridiculous, I notice the first black truck. It’s massive, with all kinds of wheels and bars over the windows and tinted windows and antennae wiggling and dangling from the roof.

It’s on Bayside Drive, the street just beyond the back of the school, rumbling along when suddenly the driver slices left and leaps onto the practice field itself.
The great, giant wheels tear up turf and rumble over the extra hurdles the track team never yanked back into the gym after practice and come about as close to the goal stands as you can without actually plowing right thought them.
I let out a little “eek” and cover my head, grass and turf landing – and sticking – everywhere; on my sweaty arms, my sweaty calves, the back of my sweaty neck and all up in my ponytail. I almost stand, instinctively, to scrape it all off but this close to the ground, using the giant mesh sack of soccer balls as cover, I can feel more rumbling coming; lots more.

One, two, three more massive black trucks grind onto and over the practice fields, each coming closer than the next to literally driving over me without even looking down.
I watch as the last one passes, the rumbling growing distant as it parks, next to the others, just behind the Catfish Cove High School gym.
They just sit there like that for a minute, engines ticking, backsides rocking with the momentum of their assault, four massive trucks lined up in a row.
Then, as if on cue, the doors all open at once and soldiers, all in stiff blue fatigues, storm out. We went to the circus last year, as a family, one of those “we need to do more things together” evenings my Mom cooks up every few months when some women’s magazine article has made her feel guilty or doubt her parenting skills or whatever.
It was pretty lame, though we each got our own cotton candy, which was pretty cool not having to share with my little sister. Anyway, there was this one act where a little tiny car pulled up into the middle of center stage, sat there for a minute, then the door opened and one by one, all these clowns got out.
At first, like one or two, then we kept counting and it was fifteen or so by the end. I couldn’t believe it, and that’s kind of what I’m thinking now as this army of soldiers streams out of these four trucks.

I can’t imagine what they’re doing here, and as they fan out around the back of the building, pairing up and looking left and right, I inch down behind my camouflage and watch from what I hope is a safe vantage point.
But it’s not; not really. Two of them, big suckers, too, all dressed in blue, skin gray like they’re wearing makeup or something, head over to me. They’re coming slow, and I could probably run, but they’re carrying guns, big ones, and I’m not that fast.
Just ask Coach Mulligan!
I hunker down, wondering what I should do, as I hear the grass of the soccer field crunching beneath their sleek, black boots. I risk a glance over the sack of soccer balls and they’re both staring right at me!
Their eyes are yellowish, like maybe they’re sick or wearing contacts but they don’t really seem to be looking at me, maybe just past me. Then they slow down and I hear sniffing noises, but I’m too afraid to look over and see what – or who – they’re sniffing.

Grass crunches so close I can almost smell shoe leather when, suddenly, glass shatters back at the school. More grass crunches and I can sense the soldiers turning when I risk a peek above the mesh of my hiding spot. Sunlight catches on falling glass as hands, bloody hands, and lots of them, wave from the third floor Chem Lab window.
The men, the soldiers, run toward the school. They all do. Everyone converges below the window and, shocked at what’s happening, I finally stand from behind my hiding place.
The hands inside the broken Chem Lab window are attached to arms, bloody arms, attached to faces; bloody faces. I recognize a few from the Math-a-Letes club, but what are they doing in the Chem Lab?
Mary Sinclair shoves her face through the crowd and screams, “Zombies! There are zombies in here!!!”

I smirk. This is some kind of elaborate prank, I figure, but the blood sure looks real and as dramatic as Mary Sinclair can get reading the announcements in the morning, she sounds pretty believable.
The soldiers look up at the window, then at each other, and then raise their guns. Mary Sinclair screams as the first shots ring out, the sound of shattering glass and crunching grass under my feet drowning her out as I run, run, run for home.
Across the playing field, down Bayside Drive toward our apartment complex, my kleets loud on the deserted highway, cop cars racing in the opposite direction as I flee, faster than I’ve ever run, long past tears and my breath ragged and wheezing before I finally fall down in the cul de sac outside our apartments, grass between my teeth as I gasp and scream into the dirt.


(Alaiel: So I made it out alive, fiu!)


Detention of the Living Dead
by Rusty Fischer

Official Blurb:

Maxine “Max” Compton is in detention when the outbreak starts; so are several other students when Max’s best friend Brie storms in – chomping on the thigh bone of their favorite Home Ec teacher, Ms. Watkins!

Brie is a zombie, and quickly starts biting everyone in the room—even her best friend, Max!

When the class realizes what happens, it’s too late; they are all zombies—and they’re no longer alone.

Now a thin gray man in a white lab coat is testing them; making them read, and once they can no longer read, the zombies are led from the room, never to be seen again.

One by one the zombies stop reading, all but a few of them, Max included. Oh, and that cute thug she’s been crushing on for years, Zander Cash!

That’s when Max learns that there are good zombies, and bad zombies. And if she’s to survive, she has to pick a side.

Who knew Detention could be this hard… or last forever?

*Alaiel is in awe so she may need a few seconds to come back to Earth*

...
...
...

[Someone, please, snap you fingers]

SNAP!

Ah! Hey, thanks... whoever did it. Sorry. It's just that I'm, don't know, so happy? Flattered? Almost crying? Running around my house 'cause I'm so giddy I can't stay put? That is until I fall, because I always do^^U

But yeah, back to the point. I have to thank Rusty. I know this is just a guest post (a very special guest post) and that it didn't really made it to the book, and that he made it up for my blog and my readers but still, I feel really special. So, from the bottom of my heart, thanks Rusty.

And guys? Don't go too far away, in 2 days I will do a giveaway for one of Rusty's book! Trust me, you don't want to miss it ;)