Viktor held back the maple branches and watched the Thornton property for signs of movement. With his house empty, they went to the next possible place Anna and her siblings could be.

The trio stood on the path he and the Thornton kids had forged between his house and theirs. It looped around the back of the property and came out by the vegetable patch where the trees thinned out.

Old Man Thornton never ventured farther than the immediate area around his house which comprised of his potato plot, which the children were in charge of tending, and the shed where he kept his still for brewing moonshine. The paranoia that someone would come and steal the alcohol he – or rather his children – made kept Mr Thornton chained to the vicinity of where the precious liquid was stored.

His children knew that his fears would push him to investigate if he saw evidence of a path, and they needed to make sure they had an escape route. So by unspoken agreement, they didn't use it very often to help ensure it wouldn't become easily discoverable.

Despite the threat of zombies in the woods, Viktor lead his friends along it because it cut the travel time between the properties down to only five minutes. They had managed to get all of the batteries plugged in and charging in only ten minutes by putting a string of extension cords from the sockets by the cash register.

Now, they held still and watched.

A creaking door sounded. Old Man Thornton appeared in the doorway of the shed. His stained wifebeater – apt attire for him – stretched over a sizeable paunch that hid the front of the leather belt which held up his brown trousers. The front thigh area on both legs were black where he had repeatedly wiped his hands off.

He scratched the grey and white stubble on his chin, snorted and spit out a glob of phlegm that sent up a puff of dust where it landed. "Where those kids got to? I'll whip their hides if they don't tend to the still soon."

Lifting his leg he released a loud, long fart. He gave a contented grunt, hitched up his trousers from the back and plodded towards the house.

The trio looked at each other with matching raised eyebrows and open mouths of surprise. Petra was the first to clap her hands over her mouth to stifle the giggles that bubbled up. Viktor stuffed the side of his hand into his mouth to stop his laughter, while James buried his face in his elbows.

Only when the door slammed shut behind Old Man Thornton did they drop to the ground and release their laughter as quietly as possible lest their noise get through the open windows of the house.

"Oh. My. God!" Petra whispered.

"Did you see all the mosquitos around him drop dead?" Viktor said.

James snorted loudly at that and had to hunch down hugging his knees to muffle the raucous laughter that was trying to get out. He choked out, "Stop or he'll catch us!"

Viktor pretended to zip his mouth. The Old Man was one of the few people Viktor knew not to piss off.

Since none of the plants in the gardens were of sufficient height yet to shield them making a dash straight across, Viktor waved James and Petra after him and led them through the bush ringing the property and into the National Park that was a wildlife wilderness.

"We'll have to check all the treehouses until we find them. Damn! I should have thought to bring pen and paper along to leave a note." Viktor smacked his thigh.

"We'll figure something out," Petra said. "If we come across the remains of a campfire, we can take the charcoal and write on the wall or something."

Desire spiked through James causing him to inhale sharply. Petra's brainiac moments set him off like Canada Day fireworks.

She immediately looked over with worry-lines marring her forehead. He just smiled in reassurance and took her hand. He wouldn't rush anything with her, but damn! Hearing her be smart made him want to kiss her in the worst possible way.

When she looked away, he turned to the side and discreetly adjusted his tight underwear.

"Anna!" Viktor called and ran to meet the brunette girl they could see through a break in the trees.

"Vik! Petra! James!" Anna called excitedly and met them to give Petra a big hug when they burst from the foliage. She called over her shoulder. "Hey everybody! Look who's here!"

Five other children, one girl and four boys, all resembling each other so closely they couldn't be anything but siblings, came running from behind the big tree or climbing down the rope ladder that led up to a platform just visible from where they stood.

With a beaming smile, six-year-old Timmy Thornton threw himself at Petra and gave her a big hug around the waist before he stepped back hastily and hung his thumbs from the pockets of his dirty jean shorts and nodded his head slowly. "What's up, James? Viktor?"

The trio flicked their eyes at each other and bit their cheeks or lips to keep their smiles inside. The little boy had seen a picture of James Dean in a magazine Viktor brought them and had decided he wanted to be just like the man in the picture.

James held his hand out for a fistbump. "Timmy, my man."

The boy narrowed his eyes slightly and met James' fist with his own. "My man."

"Alright, enough of the 'serious', dude!" Viktor hooked his elbow around the boy's neck and began rubbing his knuckles into the boy's hair. "It's time for noogies!"

Timmy exploded in peals of laughter and pretended to struggle to get away.

"I'm so glad we found you all together," Petra said.

Shadows leapt into Anna's eyes. "Why? What happened?"

Petra drew in a breath to explain but didn't get the chance when screaming from nearby began.

James and Petra looked at each other then tore off in the direction of the noise. They shrugged off their backpacks as they ran and got out their nail guns.

"Just stay behind us!" Viktor instructed the others trailing behind.

The smell of a campfire reached them and moments later they barged into a campsite. Three tents ringed the central firepit. Closest to them was a cluster of five boys, about nine years old, holding each other and screaming, while on the other side of the campsite a man held the wrists of a zombie apart while craning his head back to keep his face away from the snapping jaws.

The man, dressed in a light khaki Scout shirt and shorts, stepped back when the zombie surged forward. His heel caught the edge of one of the logs that ringed the campfire as seats and he tumbled backwards, bringing the zombie down on top of him.

"No!" shrieked Petra. Running forward she leapt over the small campfire and landed beside the pair. The impact and motion of her landing on the packed dirt attracted the zombie's attention. It turned its head, giving Petra enough time to save the Scout Leader with a nail to its brain.

She turned her eyes to the man, still holding the nail gun at the ready. "Did it get you?"

He struggled to push the dead weight off himself. "No, I don't think so. What the hell is going on?"

Viktor and James rushed over to help roll off the zombie. It flopped to the side. One of its arms flung out wide. The head lolled back and forth for a second, then was still, the face turned towards the centre of camp. The milky white eyes seemed to watch the crackling flames.

"Well, sheee-it," said Timmy Thornton strutting forward. "Is that a zombie?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

True to form, little Timmy Thornton isn't afraid of being faced with his first zombie. How soon do you think he'll be asking for his own nail gun?

Have any of you been on a camping outing with the Scouts?

Hats off to all the men and women who volunteer their time for any and all youth groups.

WORD COUNT: 1319

NANO WORD COUNT: 18, 667

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 20, 492