The Chicken Zombies

Chapter 33-- We're All Gonna Die!!

Dolph had been waiting to meet the love of his life very patiently in the dining room. He didn't know why, but he trusted Seraphina.

Dolph scanned the crowd of rich people, looking for any signs of guys who looked obviously gay. Okay, he was stereotyping. Heck, according to a lot of the girls at the gala, Dolph didn't look obviously gay.

He sighed as he grabbed a glass of grape juice in a wine glass. A younger girl shyly approached him. "Hey," she said.

He glanced up. "Hello."

"Ooh, you're American! How fun!"

Dolph sighed. "Look, kid, you seem nice and all, but you're, like, thirteen, and I'm eighteen and into guys, so-"

"Oh, no, no, no!" the girl said. "I didn't come over here for me. The handsome waiter wanted me to find out if you were by any chance gay. So you are, and I'm gonna tell him, and you can all live happily ever after!" She stood up and began to walk away before turning back over her shoulder. "And, by the way, I'm fourteen."

Dolph's eyes widened. "What just happened?"

All of the sudden, Dolph heard gunshots. People scrambled to hide under fancily clothed tables, and an old man next to him collapsed to the ground, struck with a bullet.

Dolph tried to scream, but his voice wasn't working. Because he'd locked eyes with the shooter.

And

He

Knew

The shooter.

It was Haley, from PE class and Betty May's house.

"Dolph Ziegler," she said, her voice monotone. "You are reported to come back with me to Ronaldo Rosenpinis' lair."

"Never!" he declared.

"Then I have orders to shoot." Haley aimed the gun at Dolph. Dolph winced.

Suddenly, he was tackled! The person pushed him beneath a table. "Are you okay?" they asked. Dolph's savior was ridiculously good looking. The darkest skin you've ever seen, sleek, dyed blonde dreadlocks pulled into a low tail, light brown eyes. He wore a white waiter's shirt and black slacks, and Dolph was really hoping that this was the guy Seraphina was talking about.

"I'm fine," Dolph said. "Thank you for saving me."

The guy sheepishly smiled. "It was nothing." He had an accent, too! This was literally Dolph's dream guy!

Dolph finally shook himself out of the trance. "Alright," he explained. "So I'm in a bit of a really sticky situation right now, and I need to get out of here as soon as possible. But I also heard that you're the love of my life, so if we could exchange numbers, that'd be great."

The guy nodded. "Of course. I'm Lance, by the way. Lance Raymadas." Lance pulled a pen out of his pocket and scrawled his number down on Dolph's arm. "So," he said when he was done. "The love of your life?" Lance smiled.

"Um, long story. Gotta blast." Dolph sprinted from under the table to another table, and table-hopped until he'd escaped out a window. From there, he climbed into the first car he saw and took off.

Shakira was on her fourth song when the gunshots rang out. She'd made it through All Star, Hey Ya, No Scrubs, and was currently singing Fergalicious, her favorite song.

She was nearly hit by one of Jay's bullets, who had seemed to be targeting her. Luckily, her expert nineties dance moves had dodged the bullets.

"Jay!" she cried out. "You are killing my vibe!" Jay only growled in response and kept shooting as people ran in terror.