Mr. Elkins and the Zombies of Elbert County Read Online Free Page A

camera, a ball cap, and your sunglasses, and follow me out front. We’ll run interference for your mother.” Seth ran to his room and came back ready to go.
    “Got fresh batteries and a tape in that thing?” I asked. Seth nodded excitedly. “Good. You follow my lead and videotape everything that goes on outside. But do it from the side, out of sight of their video cameras.”
    We went to the front door, turned and looked at Ruth, Michael and Cecelia.
    “This is so unfair,” grumbled Michael. But he knew not to argue any more. Seth gave Michael a smirky smile.
    “Have fun at sch-o-o-o-l,” Seth gloated.
    “When we finish here,” I informed Seth, “you’ll be mucking out the barn.” This straightened out his smile and drew a stuck-out tongue from his younger brother.
    I walked out the door, followed by Seth, and over to the corner of the yard by the driveway. They were on us like dogs in a kennel at feeding time. Lights switched on, mike booms swung into place, and reporters ditched their coffee cups and jostled for position. Questions tumbled out like wagging tongues. I held up my hand, nodded at Seth, and waited for them to listen. Seth stepped to the side to take us all in and turned on the camcorder. Funny, somehow they didn’t take to being videotaped themselves.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, I will answer all of your questions on one condition. My young ones need to get to school and go about their day as usual. If you question, approach, or even videotape them, you will hear no more from me. Is that clear?”
    The reporters exchanged I-won’t-do-it-if-you-won’t-do-it looks amongst themselves. No doubt they had heard of Cecelia’s zombie drawing and were anxious to interview her. The air of temptation was thick.
    “Do we have a deal?” I asked. Each nodded, casting sideways glances at the others. “Fine. Now, if each of you, as representatives of your news station, will sign this affidavit prepared by our lawyer, guaranteeing the privacy of our children, and that no images of them appear on your broadcast, those of your affiliates, websites, and print outlets, we can begin.” I passed out the affidavit and watched their faces cloud with confusion. With furrowed brows and furtive looks, the reporters skimmed the document, glancing quickly at each other to ensure they weren’t the only ones signing away their rights. I could see the gears churning in their heads, wondering if this piece of paper was legally binding and calculating their dodge for getting around it. My hope was that they would stall long enough to give us some breathing room over what was to be a stressful next 24 hours. One by one, the pens dashed across the bottom of each page and the papers were handed back to me.
    “Very well, then. Who’s first?”
    As if on cue, the school bus came rambling up the road and stopped at our mailbox. The front door opened and Ruth and the kids made a beeline for the bus. Instinctively, the cameraman from Fox spun around to get them on tape. His female reporter rounded on him.
    “You moron!”
    He swung the camera back, looking a bit sheepish. I stared at him calmly, the way you do when your kid has done or said something stupid, as if to say, “Don’t even try to explain your way out of this.” The school bus pulled out and Ruth went back inside.
    The other reporters looked at the Fox crew with a mixture of panic and frustration. The Fox reporter’s eyes darted around, hoping for a reprieve.
    “If you’ll excuse us,” I said with the faintest of smiles.
    “You mean—”
    “I’ll resume when your truck has pulled out,” I stated.
    Jaws clenched and eyes flared as the other crews stared her down.
    Seeing she had no way out, save one, she turned on her cameraman and hit him with her microphone, then shoved him toward the truck.
    “You idiot! You just cost me the lead in the 5:00 news!” The cameraman tried to shield himself from her blows as best he could. I pitied the poor fellow. He was