THE ZOMBIE PLAYGROUND

CHAPTER FIVE

Little Molly Hartley never dared disobey her mother, and she didn’t plan on doing so tonight.

She knew her mom had an important dinner, the kind she hosted three or four times a year for her loud, obnoxious girlfriends. It was almost nighttime, which meant all of her mom’s friends—most fat, some thin, all dumb and dumber—would be arriving any minute. She knew once these abominations arrived, there would be no chance at getting her mom to listen to her.

Molly tossed the tennis ball to her cocker spaniel Wally, who never seemed to tire of playing fetch. The dog snapped up the ball and brought it back to Molly.

“Mom?” the five-year-old said.

No response.

“Mommy?” She tried to yell louder. Still nothing.

Molly wandered into the kitchen to find her mother, sweating and stressed, hovering over two pots, three pans, and enough food to last for the rest of the month.

“Mom?”

“What, honey?”

“Am I having dinner with Dad tonight?”

“No,” she said. She poured enough olive oil on the chicken dish to drown a city. “Your dad’s on a business trip. I’ll make you something soon, OK?”

“OK.”

Molly sighed, turned to her left, and tossed the tennis ball into the dining room. She watched in surprise as the ball bounced off one of the chairs and onto the delicately garnished dining room table.

“Wally, no!” Molly shouted, but it was too late.

The dog dashed up on the table, knocking dishes and silverware down to the carpet. He nabbed the ball and raced back to Molly, smashing into one of the chairs and sending a dish of fruit down to the floor.

“What was…” Molly’s mom stepped into the living room. “Goddammit! Goddammit, Molly! I told you to keep that dog out of the living room!”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It was an accident.”

“I don’t have time for this!” Her mother looked ready to cry.

Molly fell down to her knees and started picking up the giant mess of fruit on the floor. Wally helped out, by eating most of it.

“No, no,” her mom said. “Just stop. I’ll do it.”

“But Mom—”

“Take the dog outside! Right now!”

Molly hadn’t seen her mom this angry since the last time she hosted a major dinner party. She could be the sweetest woman in the world, but when she was under pressure, she could be terrifying.

Molly grabbed the tennis ball, which was now gooey and wet with the mutt’s slobber, and stepped away from her mother’s sight as quickly as she could. She stepped onto the front porch and looked in the distance to see the sun setting.

“All right, boy,” she said. “You want me to throw it far? I’ll throw it far.”

Wally perked up, obviously excited for this new challenge that didn’t involve doors and living room tables, and ran to the other end of the grass.

“Here you go, boy!” Molly shouted, tossing the ball his way. She knew she didn’t have a lot of power in her throw, but even she had to chuckle at that one. The ball didn’t even make it halfway across the yard.