Is It Zombie You're Looking For?

     It was early Monday morning (NST) at the Kreludan Yooyuball Federation's Headquarters, located just to the east of Kreludor's Orange Central Moon Base, and things were pretty quiet. With most of the administrative and sporting staff only now setting off to work after their long weekend away, the sprawling sports complex was relatively empty, bar the members of Team Kreludor who had just about managed to drag themselves out of their dormitories for breakfast. The Headquarters itself was made up of a central grey dome and multiple orange and purple pods connected to it and each other through a series of corridors, with the destination of choice for the players - the fully stocked and very hi-tech Cafeteria - residing in a purple hemisphere.

     Surrounded by all manner of fantastical devices that could materialise a perfectly balanced meal for any pet for any occasion, Jurin T. was sat at one of the room's many tables. Galaxy Energy Drink in hand. Sipping his drink, the purple and orange tracksuit-clad Red Ruki was - somewhat unusually - enjoying his breakfast alone when his teammate Qlydae Wegg chose to slump down in the chair opposite him. The Orange Grundo had never been much of a morning pet. No matter how many jogs his father had dragged him on in his childhood. Yawning loudly, the left forward slurped his Protein Shake. A noise that made his goalkeeper smile. "How was your weekend?" he asked sympathetically.

     "Oh, you know," came the mumbled response, followed by another yawn. Rubbing his yellow eyes with the scrunched-up sleeve of his own tracksuit jacket, Wegg yawned again before continuing, "Did some karaoke with Kev." Referring to Zenor Kevix, a former Team Kreludor teammate and his best friend. "Nothing special." Blinking in the artificial light, his focus switched from his breakfast to his current colleague. "What about y-" he trailed off, squinting at the Red Ruki's head. Gesturing at his own left antenna, the Orange Grundo seamlessly pivoted, "You've got a little... something... up there..."

     "Huh?" Jurin himself blinked twice before reaching up to his left antenna. And feeling a small piece of fabric in his pincers. After a few moments, he managed to untangle the friendship bracelet that one of his nieces or nephews had hidden up there on his trip over the weekend back to the Tajir family compound in Sakhmet. "Thanks," he laughed, causing his counterpart to sleepily shake his head. The goalkeeper had always made regular space shuttle trips back to visit his family in the Lost Desert, though in more recent times it felt like they were using him more as a petsitting service than anything else. Not that he minded, though. It could be a lot of fun.

     "Jay, me 'arty!" happily shouted Ealyn Hawkshanks, bounding over to his seated teammates with a large grin stretched across his face. Unlike his fellow forward, the tracksuit-clad Pirate Quiggle was very much a morning pet. Slapping the Red Ruki squarely between the shoulder blades, he thanked him warmly, "Thank ye for the sextant! Elinarrr loved it!!"

     The goalkeeper tried his best not to wince. But at least he was definitely awake now. "No worries, mate," he replied kindly, somewhat relieved that his teammate's younger half-sister had enjoyed her birthday present. Unlike him, the centre forward only had one sibling. And every year, he was desperate to get her the perfect gift. As a true pirate, it had to be the correct balance of practical and ever so shiny. No mere trinket would do. Thankfully, Jurin knew a guy. When it came to top-of-the-line astronomical equipment.

     Finishing his Protein Shake, the Orange Grundo interjected. "Your sister mentioned me at all, Hawks?" Wegg queried with a smile, always keen to know just how far his reputation as a generational Yooyuball talent had spread. Maybe he already had an unofficial Fan Club on Krawk Island right now that he didn't know about, which could do with a visit from their dashing hero?

     The Pirate Quiggle paused.

     Before roaring with laughter.

     "You could've just said no," the left forward scowled. He, too, was now definitely awake.

     Suppressing a grin, Jurin chose to stay out of their subsequent squabbling and instead finished his drink. As he did so, he spotted a rather annoyed-looking Motor Dahy stomping through the entrance of the purple Cafeteria pod. Given how irritable his teammate could be, he had yet to decide whether or not the Tyrannian Pteri was a morning pet. Either way, he was heading straight for their table, so any talk of Eleanor's shindig would have to wait until their lunch break. "Morning, Motor," the Red Ruki greeted him warmly, those words alone enough to stop the argument between the other two forwards.

     "HMMPH!" snorted the right forward at his counterpart, crossing his arms tightly atop his characteristically torn tracksuit jacket. Narrowing his violet eyes at Team Kreludor's second-in-command, he asked angrily, "Where's Freckles at?" 'Freckles' being the term he used for Derlyn Fonnet, Captain and de facto Head Coach of Team Kreludor. The Purple Gnorbu was conspicuous by her absence in the Cafeteria that morning. Throwing his feathered arms into the air in fury, he continued, "Shouldn't training've started by now?!"

     "No...?" interrupted Wegg, perplexed by the remark. The Orange Grundo wasn't sure which thought he found more bemusing, the idea of Motor actually wanting to take part in a training session for once or the notion that training should have started already. Like, no. It was waaay too early for that. He must have broken his alarm clock by throwing it through his bedroom door. Again.

     Sighing, Jurin turned to the youngster and tried to alleviate his concerns. "The President of Derlyn's Official Fan Club organised a joint signing session in Neovia Town Hall with Brains for Saturday," he explained, to the visible surprise of the three forwards. With a shrug, he continued, "The Sunday Shuttle Service from the Haunted Woods must be running laaate. She'll be back soon. 'Figures this would happen with Tyrix being off." Morning training sessions were usually taken by the Federation's Strength and Conditioning Coach, Tyrix, with the afternoons overseen by Derlyn, dedicated to tactical elements. With the Purple Grundo on holiday, the setup was back to the old days, where Derlyn took charge of both. Hence Motor's... questions.

     Ealyn furrowed his brow. "'fficial Fan Club?" he queried, unintentionally speaking on behalf of his fellow forwards, "Fer the Capt'n?" It was very much the first any of them had heard about it. Unlike a certain Orange Grundo, the Purple Gnorbu wasn't really one to blow her own horn.

     "Yeah," the Red Ruki replied hesitantly, not really knowing the full details himself, given his best friend's at-times-surprisingly introverted nature, "it's run by a Gelert from the backwoods? That's all Dee's really told me about it." He shrugged. He had learned the hard way over the years not to pry into her business. If the defender wanted to tell him something, she would. Otherwise, it was better - for both of them - to just leave it alone.

     Motor scowled, slamming his feathered hands onto the table.

     Staring down his colleague.

     "I'm surprised you're so chill about this."

     "...About what?"

     He threw his arms into the air once more. "Freckles hanging out with a real-live zombie!!" The Tyrannian Pteri didn't get it. His teammate was always so weirdly protective of their Captain. Like they were friends or something. And yet. And yet! Was he fine with THIS? THIS?! "What if he turns her or something?!" he screeched in terror. The right forward was panicking now. Though he tried his best not to show it. But still. The last thing he wanted was to be turned into a zombie. Zombies were so... slow. And boring. And had the worst fashion sense. Like, tattered clothes? Really? At least when he wore his ripped sportswear, it looked cool. Zombies were very much not cool. Not cool. At. All.

     Wegg narrowed his eyes. "Not this again." And left for the training pitch. He had had his fill.

     His goalkeeper frowned, aware that an unfair dig was aimed at him. Sure, Jurin had in the past aired his concerns about his best friend visiting Neovia unaccompanied, but that was mainly about Werelupes. He had no issue with zombies and, quite frankly, considered 'Brains' Mortigan a friend. As far as he was concerned, zombies were one of the safer creatures you could come across in the Haunted Woods. "Brains is cool, Motor," he tried to reassure the youngster, "I've known him almost as long as Dee has. I'm pretty sure if he was going to turn her into a zombie, he would've done it by now." A thought crossed his mind. "Besides, being turned into a zombie wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to her..." he smiled, "...at least she'd be less stressed out all the time."

     "BAH!" Motor snapped, unhappy that his fears were being ignored by his so-called friend. Stomping back out of the entrance to the Cafeteria, he headed for the main indoor training pitch that was located underneath the Headquarters' central grey dome. He didn't want any breakfast anyway.

     -----

     The sandy surface of the indoor training pitch quietly crunched under the four purple and orange boots of Team Kreludor's second-in-command as Jurin found himself placing his hands onto his thorax. Standing in front of his side's forwards, the Red Ruki frowned. The sound of the building's state-of-the-art air ventilation system whirring far more quietly than the thoughts circulating around in his head. He didn't like taking training. Ordering pets around wasn't really his thing. But he had a job to do. And he was going to try to do it. "Okay," he announced to the assembled players, a hint of trepidation in his tone, "obviously, the Gaffer hasn't got back from her trip yet. I'm sure she'll be back any moment, but until she does, I'm in charge." He closed his eyes, crossing his arms. "We'd better start our warm-up exercises."

     Behind him, the sliding doors leading to the Reception area opened.

     A low groaning noise echoed from the void beyond.

     "Motor," the goalkeeper mistakenly assumed, chastising the youngster for his perceived misbehaviour, "I hate warming up as much as the next pet but..." Opening his eyes mid-sentence, his retort trailed off as he watched the colours quickly drain from his teammates' faces. Almost in unison, the trio furiously pointed to behind him. Silently urging him to turn around.

     Doing so, he gasped.

     Doors sliding shut behind her, a hunched-over Derlyn stood motionless at the edge of the pitch. The Gnorbu is not looking quite herself. The usual purple and lavender colour of her fur had been replaced with a sickly, almost pallid, hue. Her matted mane, meanwhile, more closely resembled the shade of the moonrock outside than the vibrant orange the defender was best known for. Bloodshot eyes peering through her frizzy fringe, she caught sight of her colleagues. Lurching from one side to the other, ripped pieces of fabric falling from her equally washed-out tracksuit as she headed their way, her deputy could only stare. If Jurin didn't know better, he would think...

     Motor screamed. (Understandably so.)

     His Captain let out another low, rumbling groan. Protecting her ears with her hands.

     The Tyrannian Pteri darted down the nearest corridor as fast as he could.

     He was not sticking around.

     Wegg furrowed his brow, both at the noise and his fellow forward's actions. Shaking his head, he yelled out, "Dahy! Get back here!!" before following him down the passageway.

     With each slow step forward, the Gnorbu edged closer to her goalkeeper. The Red Ruki is now frozen to the spot. Partly out of fear but mostly out of sheer bewilderment. There were just far too many thoughts racing through his head for him to react. Seeing this, Ealyn decided for him. Grabbing his teammate by the arm, the Pirate Quiggle used all of his strength to drag him away from their oncoming foe and down the same corridor their teammates had sought shelter in. They were going to need to stick together.

     -----

     Sat at the very end of the corridor that the terrified members of Team Kreludor had in their haste rushed down was the orange pod home to the Headquarters' top-of-the-line Gymnasium. A noticeable upgrade from the facilities that earlier iterations of the squad had been forced to use in the Grundo's Gym franchise that still operated in the Orange Central Moon Base to the west, the Federation had made sure it was full of as much equipment as they could source from Neopia as possible. A line of treadmills on one side was mirrored on the other by a collection of exercise bikes and rowing machines, while at the far end, the odd crosstrainer stood alongside a few benches with their corresponding weights scattered about the floor.

     It was some of this equipment that Motor had decided to use to barricade the entrance after the arrival of his concerned colleagues. A treadmill, piled high with some weights and a yoga ball on top, blocked the path to the sliding doors. What good they would prove to be remained to be seen, but the youngster was quite pleased with his efforts. Not that it showed on his face. "What did I say?!" he shrieked in horror, waving his feathered arms in the air as he panicked, "A zombie!! That Brains has turned Freckles into a real-live zombie!!"

     The Orange Grundo buried his face in one of his hands. He had, admittedly, been shocked by the appearance of their Captain and as such had overreacted... a tad. Though he put that down to the Tyrannian Pteri blathering on about zombies over breakfast more than anything else. "No, he didn't," he corrected his fellow forward, before crossing his arms. He was insulted on behalf of Mortigan at the accusation. And to a lesser degree, HOLL-3, their Receptionist. The Robot Kacheek would never have let Derlyn in if they had thought she was a threat to all of the staff that worked there. "And stop saying 'real-live zombie'. Zombies are, infamously, very much not alive."

     Ealyn frowned. Shaken by the turn of events. Dealing with monsters of the deep like the Krawken was one thing, but this? He turned to the left forward. "I don't know, me 'arty," the Pirate Quiggle sighed, sadly, "the Capt'n be lookin' awful zombie-like to I."

     It was Wegg's turn to groan. Was this... how it felt to be Fonnet? Surrounded by idiots all the time? No wonder she was always so grumpy. He shook his head. "Look," he remarked in a blunt tone that would have made his Captain proud, "there'll be a perfectly rational explanation for... whatever is up with Fonnet. 'Probably Spooky Food-related, but who knows what that Crumpetmonger actually puts in her pies." He turned to his goalkeeper. "Back me up, here?" Jurin did not. Sat down on one of the turned-off treadmills, the Red Ruki was still processing everything that had just happened. And had yet to utter a word. "Never mind," the Orange Grundo grumped, facepalming in the process.

     Not that the Tyrannian Pteri had been listening to him anyway. Holding his chin with one of his feathered hands, he was lost in thought. "If we're gonna get out of 'ere intact," he mumbled loudly, mostly to himself, "we need a plan." As far as he was concerned, everypet else in the building were goners. They were the only ones left. After a few moments, he placed his hands on his hips. He knew what he had to do. "Hey, do any of you guys have a blueprint of the Headquarters, complete with an in-depth schematic of the air ventilation system?"

     The Pirate Quiggle was lost. "Arrr... what?"

     "Not on me, no," responded the Orange Grundo, rolling his eyes.

     "Then," Motor declared grandly, "we'll have to fight our way out!" His proclamation greeted by silence, he was undeterred. Pointing to the centre forward, he demanded, "Eely, give me your cutlass!!"

     The left forward couldn't believe what he was hearing. On so many levels. "He is in his training gear," Wegg pointed out in the most deadpan tone he could muster. Turning to his teammate, he almost jumped backwards in shock. For in Ealyn's hand was his cutlass, its shiny metal blade glistening in the Headquarters' bright artificial light. He had so many questions. "Where on Kreludor...?" was all he could splutter out.

     "Never ye mind," came the quick retort. Almost as fast was the right forward's feathered hand, trying to grab the sword from its owner's grasp. The Pirate Quiggle was in no mood for sharing. Dodging his lunge, he held his weapon high and proud. "This be not a plaything, youngun'." Swinging his cutlass, he pointed it at the barricaded sliding door in front of him. But had no intention of ever using it. "Zombie or no zombie, the Capt'n still be our Capt'n." Wegg smiled. If there was something you could always rely on when it came to his fellow forward, it was his undying loyalty to Fonnet. For the better this time. "I vote fer reasonin' with thee lass."

     The Tyrannian Pteri couldn't believe what he was hearing.

     Reasoning.

     With Freckles.

     "It's like you all want to be eaten!!" he yelled.

     Suddenly, the doors to the corridor slid open.

     The entrance way haunted by the shadow of the dishevelled Gnorbu.

     Clambering over the haphazard pile of weights, causing the yoga ball to roll towards her watching teammates, Derlyn made short work of their so-called barricade. Sending a shiver down Motor's spine. With his counterpart distracted by her feat, he grabbed the cutlass from his clutches. As an angry Ealyn tried to wrestle it back, the panicked youngster dragged Jurin back to his feet and pushed the weapon into his pincers. Before shoving the dazed Red Ruki into their Captain's path. The defender lurching ever closer to them.

     Looking down at the cutlass, then up at his teammate, the goalkeeper could finally feel his mind clear.

     As it did so, the sword fell from his grasp. Clattering onto the metal floor below.

     He turned to the right forward. "Dee's my best friend, Motor," he spoke simply, with a shallow shrug, "her being a zombie would never change that."

     His colleague's feathered eyebrow twitched. Furiously.

     So did Derlyn's.

     "Z-zombie?" she spluttered to the astonishment of her squad, the players all looking at her as though she had sprouted a second head, "What is wrong with you lot?!"

     "Dee?" The Red Ruki raised his brow high before inching towards his irritated teammate. Tentatively, he prodded the side of her pallid arm. Causing a cloud of dust to consume him. Sneezing profusely, he jolted backwards. "Bleh!" he cried out, "Regolith!!" Rubbing his now bloodshot eyes, he could just about see the grains slowly settle on the exercise equipment around them. That was going to take some vacuuming up.

     "Regi...?" the Pirate Quiggle asked the Orange Grundo, confused.

     "Moondust," clarified his fellow forward, instantly understanding why the Purple Gnorbu was looking so pale. Regolith could be pretty nasty stuff, clinging to just about any surface it came into contact with. Wegg had seen it clog up some of the most advanced spaceship engines Kreludor had ever produced. It was also why the Headquarters' air ventilation system had to be so state-of-the-art, otherwise it would never combat it. Given how furry his Captain was, it was no wonder that it had pretty much coated her from nose to tail. Leaving her decidedly washed out. Turning to the Tyrannian Pteri, he couldn't help but smirk. "What did I say?"

     The youngster was unrepentant. "That doesn't explain the torn clothing!" he raged, "Or the messed-up hair! Or the groaning!!" The defender covered her ears once more. Unable to stand the sound of the tirade. "AND IT DEFINITELY DOESN'T EXPLAIN THE FUNNY WALK!!"

     Jurin finally cracked a smile. "Bumpy trip back?"

     His words finally snapped Derlyn fully out of her sleep-deprived stupor. "YOU HAVE NO IDEA," she talked surprisingly loudly, even for her. Grabbing him by the shoulders, she, uh, explained, "The Shuttle was delayed for EIGHT HOURS because a family of Barbats - yes, BARBATS - decided to roost in the engine compartment and we ended up taking off in the MIDDLE of the NIGHT. I swear the trees were JUDGING US." Her eyebrow started twitching again. "Then, when we tried to land, we got caught up in this MASSIVE MOONDUST STORM. I was shaken from side to side to side to-" Then her lip quivered. "AND IN ALL THE COMMOTION, my suitcase disappeared. I think it landed in a nearby lava tube." Her goalkeeper patted her on the back. "Am I TALKING LOUDLY? I'M TALKING LOUDLY, AREN'T I?" She sniffed. "I need sleep."

     "Didnae worry Capt'n," Ealyn mercifully interjected, retrieving his beloved cutlass from the metal floor before grandly pointing its blade up into the air, "I shall fetch ye suitcase!"

     "You don't have t-..." the Purple Gnorbu trailed off, her bloodshot eyes following her teammate as he dashed out of the Gymnasium and down the corridor beyond, "...and he's already gone."

     Freeing himself from his best friend's rather dusty grasp, the Red Ruki had made a decision. "I'm getting you checked out by the Doc," he stated, "no arguments." His Captain opened her mouth before closing it again. And frowning. She knew he was right. "Let's," he addressed the remaining forwards, slightly less convincingly, "uh, pick this up in the afternoon." Shaking his head, he gingerly guided his teammate through the orange pod's entrance.

     Motor was unimpressed.

     "I don't buy it!" he shouted after the duo, causing the Orange Grundo to wince at the racket. It would always be too early in the morning for that level of decibels. The Tyrannian Pteri narrowed his eyes. To him, none of this was adding up. The defender was acting so... weird. Like... like she had feelings or something. That's it. That's what it was. It was all an act! He was on to her. He waved his feathered fist. "This is clearly all some elaborate cover story that Brains told her so she can turn us all into zombies when we least suspect it!!"

     Wegg scowled.

     "If Fonnet really was a zombie," he remarked, pointedly, before following his colleagues down the winding corridor, "she'd 've starved to undeath by now."

     The End.