PORTLAND - When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the baseball fields.

Carter Field on Eastern Promenade, usually home to Portland Bayside Little League, was invaded last Sunday by legions of the walking dead, all taking advantage of the sunny weather to play some kickball.

The third annual Zombie Kickball game brought a strong turnout of zombies and spectators, many of whom came with lawn chairs to observe the spectacle.

Catherine Krupsky of Portland, who was this year's event organizer, said most of the publicity for the event was done through MySpace. The only real rule in effect was that people wishing to play had to be dressed as zombies.

"It's kickball, and then throw out all the kickball rules," Krupsky said. "It's more about street theater than organized sport."

As for the debate over whether running or stumbling zombies is truer to form? It didn't really matter in a game where no score was kept.

"We could go with '28 Days Later' zombies, we could go with 'Night of the Living Dead' zombies, we could go with anything," said Krupsky.

As the appointed hour approached, dozens of the undead of all ages streamed onto the field. Two zombies in Hawaiian shirts carried maps; another wore a bloodied wedding dress and clutched a frying pan; one was wrapped in a vine and carried a watering can; more than a few were impaled with various implements or carrying rubber body parts.

During the game, the zombies' activity ranged from healthy kicks to the outfield to slow attacks at the ball which often ended in collapse.

Matt Cargile and Katie Maloney of South Portland made up the ultimate odd couple. Though the two were dating, Maloney was zombified, while Cargile, carrying a special lobotomizing tool, played a zombie hunter who was the last member of his elite Special Forces unit.

"We sleep in separate beds," Cargile said.

"He has to keep his door locked, or I will kill him," added Maloney. "Who knows what our children will be."

Gary and Amy Dick, a father-daughter duo from Scarborough, came prepared with containers of corn syrup, chocolate syrup and crushed cookies. When painted on, the mixture created the unsettling effect of dark, clotted blood.

"When the games get slow, you can pick your 'scabs' and eat them," Gary said.

Grunts and snarls served as the all-purpose language for everything from cheers to disputed plays to counting off for teams. Despite often advanced cases of decomposition, the zombies still remembered the tunes, if not the words, to such favorites as "We Will Rock You."

Jim Alberty, a former band director at Lewiston High School who now resides in Portland, went to the event as "Daid Elvis," and led several of the songs as the resurrected King.

"It should be participatory for everyone, I think," Alberty said. "It's more fun if the audience gets sucked into it."

Heather Payson of Cape Elizabeth conducted videotaped interviews of the players with her aptly named simian puppet, Monkey. Payson said the videos will be used for Monkey's new blog, assuming he survives all those bite wounds to the head.

"I suppose monkey brains are a delicacy," Payson said. "He's a little traumatized."

The kickball game was sandwiched between a Zombie Outbreak Dance Party on Friday and a music show and airing of George Romero's "Dawn of the Dead" later on Sunday evening. Krupsky said the event may infect new arenas, such as capture the flag or scavenger hunts.

When asked what the most important issue facing zombies today was, Greg Korbet, an undead mountain bicyclist, had the all-purpose answer: brains.

"Not enough brains," Korbet said. "Especially in America."

Weird, Wicked Weird is a monthly feature on the strange, intriguing and unexplained in Maine. Send ideas, photos and your memories of the 1973 Durham gorilla sightings to kskelton@sunjournal.com