“Knock, knock…”

  Just then, a knock came at the door.

  Kelly went to answer it.

  The second the door swung open, she was smothered in a bear hug.

  “Kelly, I love you.”

  Albert planted a big, sloppy kiss on Kelly, pinned her against the door, and they started going at it like two hormonal teenagers.

  Billy Jean and Michael Joke, who’d popped their heads out of the hole like curious prairie dogs, were gobsmacked, their eyes as wide as saucers.

  “Am I better than the others? Can anyone else make you feel like I do?”

  “You’re the best, you’re the greatest. Give it to me.”

  Billy Jean and Michael Joke, having just witnessed something straight out of a bad soap opera, quickly ducked back into the hole.

  They looked at each other and puked their guts out at the same time…

  “They’re a match made in hell. They deserve each other.”

  Billy Jean wiped her mouth and spat.

  “A handsome stud and a beautiful dame, a picture-perfect couple.”

  Michael Joke’s face was as white as a sheet from all the puking.

  After a moment of stunned silence, they both turned their heads and hurled some more.

  Lucky for them, the lovebirds upstairs were so wrapped up in each other they didn’t notice the ruckus down below.

  “Woo-hoo… Michael Joke, I wanna gouge my eyes out.”

  Billy Jean was freaking out.

  “My eyes are on fire. I need an eye doc, stat.”

  Michael Joke slapped his hands over his eyes, the veins on his forehead throbbing like crazy.

  As the moaning and groaning upstairs hit a fever pitch, Billy Jean and Michael Joke hightailed it out of there.

  They probably wanted to scrub that eye-burning scene from their memories forever.

  As they delved deeper into the tunnel, Billy Jean felt a chill that could freeze the balls off a brass monkey, and the stench was enough to knock a buzzard off a gut wagon.

  Her gut told her there was something wicked this way comes.

  Just then, Billy Jean screeched to a halt, staring ahead in horror.

  Something that looked like a human, only skinned alive, was dangling upside down from the tunnel ceiling.

  Its bright red muscles were on full display, like a scene from a slasher flick.

  It seemed to be snoozing, not moving a muscle.

  Strangely, Billy Jean couldn’t sense any zombie or mutant vibes from it.

  In other words, it wasn’t one of the undead or a freak of nature.

  What the heck was this thing?

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  Did it dig this tunnel?

  Michael Joke scrunched up his face as he eyeballed the monstrosity up ahead and mumbled two words,

  “Ghost Corpse.”

  “What? What’s a ghost corpse?”

  Billy Jean was as confused as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

  She’d heard of zombies and regular corpses, but a ghost corpse?

  That was a new one.

  “Before this poor schmuck croaked, they suffered like a dog. After death, they had so much pent-up rage they came back as a corpse. Ghost corpses are craftier than zombies and quicker on their feet.”

  “You mean it’s smarter than us zombies? That’s a load of bull. We zombies are the top dogs.”

  Billy Jean’s priorities were always a little off-kilter.

  Out of nowhere, she was defending her undead brethren.

  Michael Joke: …

  “What now? Should we press on or turn tail and run?”

  “Didn’t you say you zombies were tougher? Go on up and show it who’s boss!”

  Michael Joke said, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Fine, I’ll show you what we zombies are made of.”

  Billy Jean rolled up her sleeves and charged ahead like a bull in a china shop.

  One minute later.

  Michael Joke watched in disbelief as Billy Jean, who’d been all bravado a second ago, was now slithering past the ghost corpse like a scaredy-cat, trying her damnedest not to wake it.

  She didn’t so much as rustle a hair on the thing hanging upside down.

  ??

  Was this her idea of being tough?

  Well, if being a yellow-bellied coward counted as tough, then she was tougher than nails.

  “Michael, come on. It’s out like a light. We’re good.”

  Billy Jean beckoned.

  Michael Joke’s face went as rigid as a board.

  There was no way in hell he was crawling under that thing.

  No siree.

  One minute later.

  “Michael , come on. You’re almost there. Hang in there.”

  Michael Joke held his breath, lay on his back, and stared up at the ghost corpse.

  He inched forward on his elbows.

  He was bigger than Billy Jean, and he came dangerously close to brushing against the ghost corpse.

  Just then, the all-white eyes of the ghost corpse snapped open, and it locked eyes with Michael Joke in a stare-down that could curdle milk.

  Michael Joke’s scalp prickled like he’d walked through a spiderweb.

  Deciding to take the bull by the horns, he kicked upward with all his might and sent the unsuspecting ghost corpse flying.

  The ghost corpse landed a few feet away.

  “Woo-hoo…”

  It let out a wail that was half sob, half cackle, sending shivers down everyone’s spine.

  “Give me back my skin. Give me back my skin…”

  The pitiful plea sounded like it was coming from the depths of hell in the narrow tunnel.

  Billy Jean was flabbergasted that the thing could talk.

  “Give me back my skin.”

  The pitiful voice suddenly turned shrill as a banshee.

  The ghost corpse shot toward Michael Joke like a bullet, moving so fast it was like a phantom.

  Michael Joke whipped out his lightning whip and lashed at the ghost corpse.

  But the ghost corpse was faster than a greased lightning and could run up walls and across ceilings like it was nothing.

  The lightning whip couldn't even graze it.

  Plus, the narrow tunnel had Michael Joke feeling like a fish in a barrel.

  He couldn’t move an inch without bumping into something.

  Unlike the ghost corpse, this place was its home turf.

  It was as agile as a mountain goat.

  In the blink of an eye, the ghost corpse was on top of Michael Joke.

  “Give me back my skin.”

  The sharp fingernails of the ghost corpse slashed at Michael Joke’s skin.

  It looked like it wanted to flay him alive.

  At this moment, a small, pale hand grabbed the skinless hand of the ghost corpse.

  “Hey… sis, calm down. You… are… a corpse, and I’m a corpse too. We’re… kind of… family. Let’s talk… nicely.”

  Billy Jean said in a voice that was as raspy as sandpaper.

  The ghost corpse seemed to understand Billy Jean’s words and went back to looking pitiful.

  “Give me back my skin. Give me back my skin.”

  “Woo-hoo…”

  This crying made Billy Jean’s hair stand on end and gave her goosebumps the size of golf balls.

  “You… tell… me, who… peeled… your skin. We’ll… get justice… for you.”

  Hearing Billy Jean’s words, the ghost corpse stopped crying.

  It scampered up the wall on all fours, glanced at Billy Jean, and then crawled forward, like it was going to lead Billy Jean somewhere.

  “Michael , follow.”

  Billy Jean turned around and said to Michael Joke.

  Then she followed the ghost corpse.

  The ghost corpse led the way, and Billy Jean and Michael Joke trailed behind.

  After about seven or eight minutes, they reached the end, but there was no sign of an exit hole.

  The ghost corpse came to a place and pushed upward with its hand.

  A large floor tile was lifted a bit, and a thin sliver of light shone through the crack.

  It didn’t lift it all the way. Instead, it seemed to be checking to make sure there was no one there before fully opening it.

  A large beam of light poured down.

  The ghost corpse nimbly climbed up.

  It looked back at Billy Jean, as if asking her to come up too.

  Billy Jean and Michael Joke quickly followed and climbed up.

  “Crack, crack.”

  After being cooped up in the narrow tunnel for so long, their joints were popping like firecrackers.

  Billy Jean twisted her neck, wiggled her limbs, and scanned the area.

  But when she saw something, her pupils shrank to the size of pinheads, as if she had seen something that would make a grown man cry.