Generation Dead by Daniel Waters

returning, and through it all he couldn't get the image out of his mind of the zombie laughing at him. He was frightened by that image, but fear only served to make him angrier. No one, dead or alive, was going to laugh at Pete Martinsburg and get away with it.
    "We'll just come up the path," he said, "and when we get close we'll spread out in the woods. I'll kick it off. Unless they smell Stavis here."
    "What?" Stavis said, looking down at his grubby and fragrant uniform.
    "You could have at least showered," Pete said. "You reek." Harris laughed, nodding in agreement.
    There were a few kids and their parents milling about the parking lot, but no one really seemed to notice them. Pete nodded to his two henchmen.
    "Okay," he said, "it's on."
    They followed him into the woods.
    ***
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    Phoebe wasn't sure how she was going to broach the subject of her poetry with Tommy, but he saved her the trouble once they stepped into the woods.
    "I have your poem ... in my locker," he said. "I realized ...that this ...could be a problem for you."
    Phoebe shook her head and tried to think how she should respond. Funny how the clarity of his speech, which flowed more quickly that the average living impaired person's, was giving her speech troubles.
    "No," she said, "I was surprised, I guess."
    "Your friend," he said, "with the pink hair."
    Phoebe laughed. "Margi."
    "I did not think of the ... consequences," he said, somehow getting all those syllables out in one word. "Everyone ...knows. I am sorry."
    She shook her head and took a step closer to him. He didn't smell like someone who had been at football practice for the past couple hours. He didn't smell like a dead person, for that matter, either. The crisp scent of pine and autumn leaves was all she could smell. His skin was so smooth and white; he looked like a sculpture come to life, someone's idealized version of a young man, without blemishes or flaws.
    "Don't be," she said, touching his arm, which felt like smooth stone beneath her fingers. "I wanted you to have it."
    He gave a slight nod, his bottomless stare fixed on her. His gaze was disconcerting, to say the least. His eyes did not track when they were talking, and when he blinked, which wasn't often, she could count to three before his eyelids touched. He
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    raised his hand as though to touch her cheek, and she thought of how gentle he'd been when he'd removed the leaf caught in her hair.
    He surprised her by turning away, the movement sudden and swift.
    "This is ...difficult," he said, "for both ... of us. Friendship ...always is. Much less ..."
    She didn't get to hear what else he had to say, because at that moment two figures moving low ran at Tommy. One swung a baseball bat and hit Tommy in the chest, knocking him off his feet and onto a rotting log. His helmet bounced twice and landed near Phoebe, who shrieked as a third figure came from behind her and leveled a bat at her throat.
    "Shhh," Harris Morgan said. Then he smiled.
    "So you like sports, do you, zombie?" Martinsburg said. The bat he was holding out at his side came down with a sickening crack. Phoebe couldn't see where the blow landed, her line of sight obscured by Harris and the log that Tommy had fallen over.
    "Stop it!" she yelled.
    "Shut her up," Martinsburg said over his shoulder as he prepared himself for another swing. Harris looked back at Pete, unsure how to translate that particular directive, and Phoebe used the moment to jump on him, swinging her fists.
    She punched him once, and they stumbled, but she ended up on her back, the limbs of the trees high above spinning in a kaleidoscope of fall colors. She was dimly aware of Harris rising from her, cursing and licking his lower lip.
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    Then she heard the sound of Martinsburg's bat whistling again.
    It wasn't easy to rise to a sitting position, but she did. Martinsburg, grinning, was motioning for Stavis to take a turn. She tried to stand, but Harris poked her in the chest with the end of his bat and told