, , , , , ,


Audrey groaned and rolled over to squint sleepily at the doorway. Her daughter Sally was standing there in her pyjamas, rubbing her eyes with one hand, the ever-present Mr Bunny dangling from the other.

“What’s up, honey? Did you have a bad dream?”

She tried not to sound frustrated. She thought Sally had grown out of this phase, and had been looking forward to a weekend lie-in with Ralph.

Sally shook her head. “There’s a zombie on the lawn,” she said.

With a sigh, Audrey sat up and held her arms out. “Don’t be silly, love,” she said. ” It’s just a bad dream. Come here.”

Sally stayed where she was. “It wasn’t a dream, mum. There really is a zombie on the lawn.”

Audrey frowned. Sally seemed completely awake and deadly serious. Maybe something was there. She shook her husband’s shoulder.

“Ralph,” she whispered. “Wake up. Wake up!”

“Hrmphrm,” Ralph muttered, rolling over. “S’up?”

“Sally says there’s something on the lawn,” Audrey said, leaning over to shake him some more.

“It’s a zombie,” Sally insisted.

“Go and check it out,” Audrey said.

“Oh, all right,” Ralph said, swinging his feet out of the bed and wincing at the cold floorboards. “Let me get my zombie-whomping bat.”

Sally grinned as her father took an old cricket bat out of a basket in the corner and went to the window. He pulled the curtains aside slightly.


Audrey went cold at the tone of his voice. “What? What is it?”

He turned to her with a resigned look on his face. “Wake David. Get the kids armoured up. Check the chainsaws.”

She shook her head. “No,” she said, jumping out of bed to cross the room and join him at the window. “No, you can’t be serious!”

He nodded and stepped aside so she could look out of the window. The zombie on their lawn was missing half of its leg and was therefore making slow progress towards the house, but there were more in the road that seemed considerably more mobile. Across the road, Mr Winslow’s door already hung off its hinges. He never had been as security conscious as the rest of the neighbourhood.

She sighed. “Not again.”

© Kari Fay

(Author’s Note: This is my first story from a Write Anything Fiction Friday Challenge prompt. I hope you enjoy it.)