Entering Jelly's Cafe, Five saw Tom Solven sitting at the counter eating vanilla pudding. Jelly's had the best vanilla pudding, except for the time it came to life, and grew to gigantic proportions, and then went on a rampage. Well, it was still good, but no one can eat that much vanilla pudding, not even Matt. The town stunk of vanilla pudding for weeks. The Sheriff requested that Cook not use that recipe again. Not that it mattered much, people were put off pudding for a long time after that incident.
Sitting next to the diminutive man, he opened his notebook, and smiled as he saw Tom look over at him.
"Exactly why do you do this Five? Asking everyone who will answer you so many questions? You fancy yourself the town historian?" Tom popped his neck, and squinted at his pudding. "I still don't trust this stuff..."
Five gently probed Tom's mind, but meet with resistance. A deep growl came from Tom.
"That makes my brain itch. Stop. I'll answer your questions." He pushed the bowl of pudding away. "I swear this stuff still grows. I never seem to empty a bowl. No wonder it's all you can eat."
Looking over his list of questions, a feeling of unease crept into Five's very being. Shuddering he put down his pen. Something was wrong.
"So Five you going to the movies tonight? I hear it's supposed to be a new movie... Wait what's wrong?"
Five noticed that Tom was sniffing the air, moving his head side to side.
"Zombies... lot's and lot's zombies..." Jumping off the stool, Tom's transformation was incredibly fast. One second he was a normal looking midget, the next he was midget werewolf.
Standing up, Five looked through the large front windows of Jelly's Cafe. Main Street was filled with zombies, more than he had ever seen before. This was bad.
"Five, I'll go out first, you follow me. We need to make it to the Sheriff's office. Something's wrong. This many zombies shouldn't have made it into town without the alarm going off." Turning to the rest of the cafe's customers, he noticed most weren't a part of the defense force. "Everyone else should stay here, unless you're a member of the defense force, and armed. You will be safe in here."
Tom turned back to Five. "Try to stay near, I'll clear a path. Let's go!"
Pulling out his Bowie knife, Five took a deep breathe, and a chill ran down his spine. He never liked combat, but when he had to fight, he could fight. Zombies were the worst. He couldn't read them at all. Their minds were blank.
With a howl and a leap, Tom, or Snarl, as many of the people called him, was out the door, and in seconds had already beheaded four zombies with a mere slash of his long claws.
Pausing before exiting the cafe, Five sent a mental message to his Clan. The town was going to need help. Then he was out the door, slashing out with the knife as the first zombie lurched towards him. Somewhere down Main Street there was an explosion. Everything seemed to rumble. Then he was on the ground, momentarily stunned. Shaking his head, his ears ringing, he saw the zombie looming over him, a black ooze dripping from a half rotted nostril, and staining what was once a very nice Superman t-shirt. Five was wishing he had ordered some of the pudding when he had the chance.
Suddenly the zombie was headless, as Snarl came to his rescue. "COME ON!" Getting to his feet, Five saw something large and black swooping out of the darkening sky, and straight towards Snarl...
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