Caution: Zombies dead ahead.

Byline: Andrea Damewood The Register-Guard

A little exercise never killed anyone - especially if they're already dead.

So, for the second year in a row, a small mob of Eugene zombies stepped out Sunday afternoon to have a bloody good time terrorizing the living.

Beginning at Skinner Butte Park, about 15 zombies staggered along Sixth Avenue on their way to Lane Transit District's Eugene Station and back, calling for brains and mystifying the living.

"People always ask if it's a war protest or an anti-religious statement," organizer Christopher Anglin said. "We don't have a message. We just want to kind of shock people, and make them laugh and have fun while they're living."

Though caked in white makeup, with faux blood pouring from their necks, ears and mouths, most of the zombies aren't part of the Gothic culture.

Zombie walks, which began in Canada, are now held in such diverse places as Sioux Falls, S.D., and New York City, and are becoming more mainstream, undead enthusiast Dustin Dybevik said.

"Hollywood has pushed a lot of people to get into zombies," Dybevik said. "There's been a dozen big zombie movies in the last five years."

Dybevik is the leader of the Undead Citizens Alliance, a "zombie rights" group (slogan: "Throw us a bone") that sports 125 friends on the social networking Web site MySpace.com.

Zombies, alliance members assert, have feelings, too.

Zombies hold their children's hands while crossing the street. Zombies wax philosophical, debating whether they or a vampire would win in a fight. Zombies window shop.

The group also hits the streets at night on Valentine's Day, often drawing upward of 80 people, but Anglin said a daytime event was necessary so zombie kiddos could come, too.

While waiting for the grown-ups to convene, three young brain munchers descended upon the Skinner Butte Park playground, mingling among the living children dressed in their Sunday best.

Some parents and children recoiled from the gray-faced youth, but most were just curious. Two children asked 4-year-old Isabella Zander what was wrong with her.

"I'm a zombie - it's not real blood, it's fake blood," she declared proudly, before running away yelling, "Brains!"

As the clan commenced its sinister parade, drivers and pedestrians adopted different ways of dealing with the invasion of the undead.

A woman in a minivan stared, mouth agape. Some stopped to snap photographs on their camera phones. Others adopted a look-straight-ahead approach. A bicyclist rode by, grabbed his face and pretended to scream.

Susie Schrock of Halsey and her brother, Ed Walburn, pulled over to ask what it was all about. The only response was a chorus of limping zombies groaning, "Meat! Brains!"

"I said, `Maybe it's some kind of drama group from a church - after all, it's Easter,' ' Schrock said. Added her brother, "I'm from Montana, and I said, `Sis, sis, we gotta go back!' '

Diners at the Keystone Cafe either scowled or smiled and waved as the horde pressed their faces against the glass, hungry for more than eggs Benedict.

Ambling into the densely populated bus station, the zombies increased their demand for human flesh, pretending to bite those who dared to look up.

"They can be here as long as they don't cause any problems or disturb the buses," an LTD supervisor said. "I just think that they got their holidays confused."

Anglin's daughter, 9-year-old Roxanne Baggett, dragged her zombie Cabbage Patch Doll by its hair, softly growling at the living.

"I like scaring people," the third-grader explained.