Dead Moon 2: Home Sweet Hell (Dead Moon Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thrillers)

by Matt James

From above, the Mall at Wellington Green resembles a stressed-out stop sign. At each of the five points is a major department store. Hollister is situated near the eastern store—which isn’t even a store, actually. It’s a movie theater.

  “Okay,” I say, relaying my escape plan. “We leave via the theater’s outside entrance and find a car.”

  “Then your parents?” Hope asks.

  I nod. “Yep.”

  I don’t tell her that we’ll most likely fail to reach them by nightfall. The girl has gone through enough, and I need to pretend that I’m confident, even when I’m not. I’m confident in my abilities, but not in the setting.

  I don’t know this place. This isn’t my hometown anymore. And it makes my stomach roll. I may even vomit if I keep thinking about it. So, I don’t. Instead, I remind myself that I have two other people relying on me to survive.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  Jill and Hope nod.

  We step out from inside Hollister and head left. We can’t see our exit from where we are, but the movie theater is there. Every few steps, I look to the right and down and check out the lower level of the mall, thankful that I don’t see anything moving.

  That doesn’t mean there aren’t any noises though. The telltale call of a siren gives me goosebumps, but luckily for us, she doesn’t sound close. Then again, she can move fast, and silently, and could catch us in no time at all. I immediately look behind us and am happy to see Jill already doing the same thing. She isn’t a hero, in the way that people might look at someone like me as one, but she’s smart and more often than not, keeps a level head.

  The siren’s cry echoes around us again, and this time, she sounds close…really close. As an alternative to conveying my alarm, I just pick up the pace and limp onward. Last night’s food, and sleep has given my body the fuel it needed. Yes, my leg fucking hurts, but now, it only feels like someone is shoving a dagger into my quad. Before, it felt as if a goblin was gnawing on it. The latter is much worse, even though the former isn’t much better sounding.

  “Frank…”

  I glance back and put a finger to my lips. Jill nods and looks behind us, worried. The feeling is plastered all over her face. She knows what a siren can do. We got damn lucky earlier. Now, out in the open, in a space of this magnitude…

  We won’t stand a chance.

  Rounding the corner, I get my first look at the theater…and stop. Standing underneath its sign is a man, and he’s jamming something into the throat of a siren.

  “Holy shit,” I mumble, shocked.

  We’re far enough away that I witness the entire thing—the efficient brutality of it—but far enough away that I can’t get a good look at the guy. Plus, he isn’t facing us anyway. The only read I get on him is that he’s big, has a shaved head, and seems to handle himself well.

  This wasn’t a lucky kill.

  He kneels beside the twitching siren and calmly picks up a blunt, brown object—a bat. As we close in on him, I can see that it, like the floor, is slathered in fresh blood. I recall the cries of the siren I heard earlier and realize that she was being beaten to a pulp by the stranger.

  Twenty feet away, I slow and signal for the girls to stop. I continue forward with my pistol drawn but point it nonthreateningly at the man. Ten feet to him, I stop.

  “Hey there,” I say, sounding very stupid.

  The bigger man’s shoulders rise and fall with every deep inhalation. He’s just taken down a siren with nothing more than a blade and a bat. Having some experience in the game, I know the toll it can take on you physically.

  He slowly turns.

  “Nice work,” I add, hoping to make a new, very-skilled friend.

  Looking back at Jill, I notice that she still has her gun drawn. I make the decision to show this guy some good faith and holster mine then put out my hand.

  Bad move.

  “My name is Frank Moo—”

  I take a step back, appalled at what I see. Baldy’s eyes are gone, yet he otherwise looks normal. It’s as if he paused mid-mutation and stayed mostly human. My inaction gives the Unseen-man-thing the opening he needs, and he lunges straight at me.

  Before I can even get my hands up to defend myself, I’m hit, and then…nothing.

  * * *

  I awake to the screams of my name. I’m pretty sure the voice’s owner is also shaking me. The high-pitched and frantic tone clues me into whose voice it is. Hope. And she sounds terrified.

  Ow, I think, opening my eyes, blinking hard.

  My head is throbbing and bleeding. I notice the blood after I put a hand to my left temple, seeing it come away red. The asshole that had taken down a siren with ease, seemingly did the same to me—not that I remember.

  Who the fuck was that guy?

  “Frank?” Hope asks, shaking me again.

  “Yeah, Hope, I’m here.” I blink hard. “I’m alive.”

  “Not for much longer!”

  On my back, I tilt my head up and see an upside-down cluster of Unseen making their way towards us. It’s a combination of reapers and goblins, and as soon as I get a good look at them, they stop and sniff the air hard.

  Damn.

  It’s not me they’ve scented either. It’s the slain siren.

  Groggy, I turn onto my hands and knees and clumsily get to my feet. It’s then that I realize that Jill isn’t here. I quickly spin in a circle and confirm it, almost falling as I stumble from lightheadedness.

  “Where?” I ask, looking down at Hope.

  She’s sobbing for multiple reasons, but with how close the two have become, I know the reason she’s upset is that Jill is gone.

  “He took her!” she wails, wiping snot from her nose.

  A snarl turns my attention back to the creatures before us. Backing us away, I slip slightly and look down to see blood. It’s nowhere near where the siren lay, so it puzzles me.

  “Jill shot the man,” Hope explains.

  I turn and see a spotty trail leading back toward the same outside entrance that we were just headed to. Facing the oncoming horde, I also see Jill’s gun on the tile floor. I bolt for it, scoop it up, and run back to Hope grabbing her hand as I do. Together, we hang a right and flee through the short entryway, pass the Cask & Shaker bar, bursting out into the parking lot moments later. The entire time, my eyes are darting around, looking for more blood.

  Unfortunately, there’s a lot of it, and unfortunately Part 2, most of it is dry.

  Except for you. I smile, seeing what I was looking for.

  There’s a trail, leading off into the lot. My heart drops if they were able to find a working car. If this guy forced Jill to get into a vehicle, there’s no chance I’d be able to track them. But as the fresh blood leads us forward, the anticipation of seeing my wife again grows stronger.

  Twin cries resonate, and I motion for Hope to duck behind a pickup truck. When the noise grows closer, I usher her under the vehicle and wait. Seconds later, feet shamble directly up to the rear fender and into our faces. They’re quickly followed by twin blades. The appendages cry out as well, but in their case, it's them grinding against the road.

  I shudder at the sound of bone on asphalt and continue to watch.

  Screams ignite somewhere off in the distance. I’m stunned at who they belong to. The voices are people. They are hysterically yelling at one another to move it or lose it. At least, that’s what I think they’re saying… I can’t actually hear the words, but both the tone and emotion are there. There are other survivors around and they, like us, are on the run.

  I want to climb out of my hiding spot and help but don’t. Hope’s shaking hand is clasped in mine. This isn’t just my life in the balance. If I was to go all Rambo and leap into action…and die… I shake off the thought and happily stay put. Plus, if I bite the dust, so will Jill and Hope.

  Nope, not worth the risk.

  My heart breaks for those in need, but this is a different world now. I’m not against taking a risk either, but it needs to be a cal
culated one and one I know I can come out of alive. Luckily, I don’t hear what happens to the people running for their lives. They’re out of earshot now, the reapers are too when Hope and I crawl out from beneath the truck.

  “Look,” she says, pointing east.

  Baldy’s blood trail increases in volume as it moves further and further away from the mall. Walking downhill, I think I understand why. With Jill in his arms, he’s moving faster, putting more pressure on the gunshot wound. The only reason I think he’s carrying her is that there’s no way in hell that she went with him willingly.

  “What happened back there—with Jill, I mean?”

  “After,” Hope replies, keeping her voice down, “he hit you, he came after us. Jill shot him in the stomach twice, but he hit her hard.” Hope sniffs back more tears. “I wanted to help but hid behind the food counter. I came out to check on you when they left.”

  Seeing another group of Unseen, I hang a right, and kneel behind a car, showing off the “Five D’s of Dodgeball.”

  Dodge, duck, dip, dive…and dodge.

  I spin Hope toward me and wipe her eyes, smiling as I do.

  “If you hadn’t woken me up, I’d be a goner. Thanks, kiddo.”

  Hope throws herself into me and wraps her arms around my neck. I hug her back hard.

  “Don’t ever leave me, Frank.”

  I squeeze her hard again. “Never.” I gently push her away. “We’re going to get Jill back, okay?”

  Hope nods and wipes her nose on her sleeve. The new shirt is already ruined, but the girl still looks cute. She’s the same as Jill. Dirty, yet, still somehow beautiful.

  I take a quick look around and stand. “Come on, kiddo.”

  Hope sniffs and smiles, holding out her hand. I take it and lead her through the thinning out parking lot. It takes a few minutes of dodging and ducking, but we eventually reach the last car. I stop, unsure of what to do next. Baldy’s blood trail keeps going, unchanging in direction. He’s headed due east. It’s as if he just waltzed out of the mall like nothing was going to attack him.

  I don’t have that kind of faith…or testicular fortitude.

  Our destination seems to be the strip of stores just outside of the mall, on the other side of the main road that encircles it. One of our favorite restaurants is located there—my parents too.

  Hope and I have another thirty-or-so feet of empty parking lot to traverse to Flanigan’s, as well as the four-lane road. It won’t be easy, but we need to try for Jill’s sake. I groan. Having Hope by my side isn’t what I need right now. I’ll have to move faster than she’ll allow me, but it’s not like I’m going to leave her behind.

  But can I hide her somewhere?

  I’ll need to keep that option open while we look for Jill.

  “Now,” I say softly.

  We rush for the shrubs and palm trees lining the road and enter them swiftly, yet quietly. Kneeling there, I take in the next leg of our journey and realize there will be no way to make it across without being seen. The Unseen are everywhere, some wandering aimlessly, some not. Like I’ve observed a dozen times now, a few of them are just standing there, swaying back and forth, patiently waiting for something to peak their interest. I’m still unsure of how they see. Baldy seems to know exactly where he’s going, even without the gift of sight.

  I meet Hope’s wide eyes. “Ready?”

  She nods, and we dart out into the road, weaving in between the few cars that are there. Like everywhere else, there’s mostly bodies in the road. There are more vultures now too. A group of them caw, or squawk, or do whatever the hell it is that they do as we plow through them, forcing them to scatter.

  We veer right and enter the plaza’s parking lot still following the trail of blood. The buildings here face away from the mall, and, just for a moment, I think about changing course towards the back entrances. But without knowing where Baldy has taken Jill, I belay that and continue around to the front.

  As we near, the blood thickens. It’s when I conclude that having Hope with me isn’t the best idea. I check every single car as we pass them, looking for somewhere to stash her. The seventh one’s passenger side door pops open, and I swiftly check the interior of the tinted sedan. Hope looks at me funny when I lift her up and set her inside, immediately telling her what I’m doing.

  “I need you to stay here and wait.” I hold up a hand. “I promise that I’ll come back for you.” Her open mouth shuts. “Climb in back and stay low. The windows are dark and will hide you from anything that comes by.”

  She isn’t happy, but nor does she argue with me. I shut the door and smile when she locks the car and scurries into the backseat. Rounding the front of the car, I see her disappear as she lays down. Not feeling great about leaving her behind, I remember why I did it and move on.

  An instant later, I’m standing in a smear of blood at the front door, the east side, of the restaurant. It’s way too much to be all of Jill’s. It may not even be any of hers at all. The slick covers the entire sidewalk beneath the roofed entrance and originates from multiple directions.

  Baldy’s been busy.

  I grab the door handle and yank it open.

  Inside is absolute carnage.

  19

  Known for their towering nachos and fantastic beer prices, among other delicious items, Flanigan’s is now a real-life Hell on Earth. Bodies, both human and Unseen, are everywhere—but not on the floor like I expected. They’re on display for everyone to see. It’s like a sick art gallery.

  Straight ahead is the restaurant’s fish tank, which is usually beautiful and full of life. At the moment, there’s a lifeless corpse floating face down within it.

  A goblin?

  Situated in front of the tank is the hostess desk. Instead of greeting a person standing behind it, welcoming everyone inside, there’s a person’s body impaled to it with steak knives. As I witnessed before, Baldy isn’t acting like a mindless zombie. The look he gave me just before he took me down was one of intelligence and understanding—even more than a siren is capable of. This grim presentation is that of curiosity, not rage or hunger. Baldy is interested in what makes us tick.

  Fuck…

  It’s almost too much for me to take. I’m really having a hard time keeping it together. My hands are shaking and covered in sweat. Biting my lip, I slowly pan left, then right, clearing the front waiting area for anything alive. I kinda wish something was alive too. It’s deathly silent and red. Everything is red, in fact. I’ve seen some pretty messed up stuff as of late, but this takes the cake.

  I look up and notice that instead of a big-ass fish mounted to the wall, there’s another body. She’s human and missing everything that’s supposed to be attached to her torso. Then again, she could be a siren, it’s hard to tell. The only constant is that the corpse was, at some point, a she.

  To my right is the main dining hall. Without even entering the room, I can tell that it’s the center of Baldy’s laboratory. I head left… If I have it my way, I’ll come in from a wider angle. I need to see if I can get a better look at what I’m getting myself into.

  To the left of the tank, and now to my right, I pass a walkthrough containing booths on either side, most of which are serving meat of the human variety. Gratefully, from where I’m standing, all I can see is their feet dangling off of the tables. Six on the left, and six on the right.

  Continuing my search, I nearly jump out of my own skin when something chimes inside the game room. It’s built into the front left-hand corner of the restaurant and features a variety of new and classic arcade games.

  And, of course, more red.

  Moving on…

  I don’t stop until I hit a wall. Then, I head right, toward the rear of the building. Luckily, the outer route doesn’t assault me with more bodies. It seems that Baldy is keeping near the main hall—the room I’m currently avoiding.

  I pause when I hear someone mumbling.

  Taking a knee, I slide up next to the last booth in the
back corner of Flanigan’s. Peeking out, I see nothing. I still hear the person talking to themselves, though. The words are entirely garbled and incoherent. They may not even be English—or any other discernable language. As I edge out, I feel my leg pinch, protesting against my low, duck walk.

  Am I being too cautious? I ask myself. The answer is easy. Nope, not at all.

  This guy isn’t just a guy anymore. He’s stronger than a regular person but has the ferocity of an Unseen. His mutation’s pause has given him the best of both species from what I can tell so far.

  I’m almost to the middle of the building now, but still moving along the back wall. I cross the entrance to the bathrooms and stop to take a look, just in case Baldy stashed Jill inside.

  No Jill, and…ugh. I’m not even going to describe what I just saw.

  Leaving the ladies room, I turn left and continue my search until my path ends.

  To my left is the kitchen and to my right is the large central seating area. This is Baldy’s staging area for sure. More bodies are pegged to the walls and tables. I’m now facing the front of the restaurant. The bar, a place Jill and I used to sit at on Sunday’s during football season, takes up the left-hand side of the space.

  I almost leap out of my low stance when I spot a familiar figure lying on the bartop. It's Jill—I know it, but I can't tell if she's alive or not. Not dead, not dead, not dead. She’s facedown on the thin, U-shaped bar and isn’t moving.

  Holding my breath, I watch, smiling when I spot her back rise and fall.

  I relax—slightly. She’s alive but unconscious—most likely hurt.

  But where’s Baldy?

  I have yet to see the prick anywhere, just the results of his horrific experimentations. I don’t give a shit if they’re actually experiments or not, I just want to grab Jill and get the hell out of here.

  Waiting another agonizing minute, and still with no sign of Baldy, I finally stand and creep forward staying as low as I can. Gun forward, I move into the room and pan back and forth. There’s a half dozen, long, high-top tables between her and me. Like the other tables around me, each of these also holds a mutilated corpse. The smell is terrible and there are flies everywhere. These must be the oldest of his victims.