“The weather is getting worse.” Bob stepped out of the truck. “Maybe we should do this another time. We could just go on to Mike’s and take care of my face.”
“Are you kidding?” Jeezy got out and embraced the cool wind. Then he faced Bob. “This is the perfect night for raising the dead! The sky is cloudy, the wind is blowing, and there’s even lightning.” The goatee surrounding his grin made it all the more menacing.
Bob hunched over, closed one eye, and walked toward him, one foot forward and then dragging the other. “Yeeesss, master, and would you like me to dig up a brain for you?”
“You’re funny.”
Bob straightened up. “I can’t help it. You’re acting like Doctor freakin’ Frankenstein.”
“That’s not an insult.”
Inside, the place was a mess from the earlier whirlwind. The sight of his gerbil - headless and pinned to the table - turned Bob’s stomach. He wanted to hurry up, get the stuff and go, figuring Mike and Susan would have enough sense to stop Jeezy from going too far. At the very least, Susan would throw a fit about a dead dog on her property.
While Bob went to the bathroom to examine his cheek, Jeezy gathered everything into a dark blue tote bag minus the pick - he figured it would be useless against a golden retriever because it wasn’t long enough to pin it to anything. Instead, he rummaged around until he found a metal cross. Then he walked to the back corner of the barn where a grinder was bolted to the wall for lawnmower blades. He turned it on and sharpened the bottom tip of the cross to a fine point. Once satisfied with its ability to puncture, he placed it in the bag and waited at the front door.
“Let’s go,” he said when Bob returned, nearly hopping up and down like an excited kid. “Man, Mike is gonna love this!”
Bob started in his direction but stopped before passing the table.
Jeezy was almost outside when he realized no one was behind him. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t leave Ichobod like this. We’ve disrespected him enough.” He pulled the pick out of the table, raising the corpse with it.
Jeezy pointed at it. “No, no! Don’t do that. Put him back or he’ll get loose!”
“Oh, come on.” Bob used two fingers to slide his pet from the point and set it on the table. “I appreciate all the weird shit you’ve done, but a headless gerbil isn’t going to just-”
The corpse scampered across the table and fell off the edge. After landing on the floor, it rolled to its feet and took off through the living room, bumping into walls and furniture. It left tiny stains wherever the stump of its neck hit. Bob’s jaw dropped as he watched.
Jeezy groaned. “Damn. Oh well, leave it. I’ll catch it when I get home.”
Bob shook his head and joined Jeezy outside, where they rushed to Bob’s truck to escape the blustery wind. They were both quiet until they were well on their way.
Bob couldn’t get Ichobod out of his mind. “I don’t know, Jeezy. The more I think about this, the more nervous I get.”
“Oh chill out, Krater. This will be the last time, remember? I want to see if I’m able to do it with a larger animal, that’s all. Do you realize how huge this is?”
Bob bit his tongue, assuming any attempt to protest would be in vain.
As they passed a truck trail leading to the feeding bins of a cow pasture, a car pulled out behind them and followed. Bob and Jeezy didn’t notice until the headlights came on.
Bob squinted. “Jerk’s got his brights on.”
Jeezy put his hand against the back window and raised the middle finger. The car sped up and hit their bumper, causing them both to lurch forward.
“I think you pissed them off.” Bob pressed the accelerator harder, but the car kept up and hit them again. “Shit! Those bastards!”
They came to a crossroad and Bob turned to the right, hoping to shake them off. As he turned, he stomped on the gas, causing the rear tires to spin and send a shower of loose gravel across the car’s hood and windshield. Then Bob was off again, driving as fast as he could.
“That’ll show ‘em, whoever they are.”
Jeezy frowned. “You don’t suppose it’s…”
“Fred Pastin knows where we live. He was our mailman before he changed routes.”
They were struck again, this time with more momentum behind it. The car eased around to the left and turned into the rear fender. Bob jerked the steering wheel back and forth, trying to maintain control until the car let off.
Bob could feel he was riding the edge of the ditch, so he moved over and sped up more, but the car was much faster. They came to an area where the road cut into a hill; a slope of clay dirt and rock rose ten feet above the road on each side. The car rammed them again, pushing the truck into the slope so the right side ground into it. Bob’s grip tightened, concentrating hard on keeping as straight as possible, but then he hit a thick branch that rested on the roadside. The front tires bounced up and landed against the slope. The car slid to a halt as Bob’s truck ran up diagonally, lost balance, and crashed upside down on the road.
Once the initial shock of the wreck subsided, Bob glanced at Jeezy, who was alive but unconscious. He climbed out of the now busted window on the driver’s side - careful not to cut himself - and looked at the car. When a surge of pain went through his head, he reached up to feel a gash above his right eyebrow.
“You assholes,” Bob yelled. “What the hell is your problem? Look at this shit!” He motioned to the damage.
The car’s engine was off, but the bright lights still glared. Then they dimmed and his suspicions were confirmed. Out of the black Monte Carlo stepped David Hampton and his friends.
A wave of fear ran through Bob. “Oh man.”
David stepped closer, a little unsteady from the whiskey, his duster flapping in the wind. “I still have something to settle with you.”
“Don’t you think you just did?” Bob pushed a nervous laugh through gritted teeth. “I mean, look at my truck! You wasted it!”
David grinned. “No, I’m not through with you yet.”
“Shit.” Bob figured David couldn’t be reasoned with, but the only alternative was running and he didn’t want to leave Jeezy at their mercy. He heard a few of the men on the backside of the car, digging around in the trunk. They were either looking for weapons or getting into a cooler of beer.
“Look David,” he said, “she told me she didn’t have a boyfriend. I didn’t know.”
“Save the excuses. I caught you red-handed with my girl, and now you have to pay. You’ll be an example for all the other idiots with a boner for Catrina.” He picked up a rock from the road.
Bob took a step back just as David threw it, or at least pretended to. He swung out, but kept the rock in hand. Bob flinched and flung his arms up in defense.
“Psyche!” Gene Cropper giggled from the other side of the car and the gang echoed him. Fred and Bart closed the trunk and opened their fresh beers before joining the rest. Bob let his guard down, cracking a worried smile. David looked at the others with a deep laugh and then whipped around to throw the rock hard, this time for real. It struck Bob’s face and gouged his left eye severely.
Bob felt the warm blood stream down his cheek just before excruciating pain set in. He cupped his hands over the wound and dropped to his knees. At first, the others were unable to see the severity of the injury, so they only laughed again.
“Bob, while you’re down there,” Gene said, “say a prayer for me, too!”
Bart Skinster caught a glimpse of blood. “Wait a minute guys. I think he’s hurt pretty bad.”
“It’s only a scratch.”
Gene chimed in with a Monty Python quotation, “It’s just a flesh wound!”
David went to his car and returned with an aluminum bat from under the back seat. Bob looked up with his good eye and gasped. His hands were trembling uncontrollably.
“There’s going to be more blood than that.”
Gene let out a nervous chuckle.
Whe
n Jim Horrison noticed the bat, he nearly choked on his Butterfinger. “Whoa, wait a minute, David. I think he got the point. Why don’t we just leave and…”
“No! He needs to learn what happens to people who mess with my girlfriend.” He walked closer to Bob and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s as simple as that.”
Jim stuttered. “B-but we can’t just…”
“Yes we can.” David approached Jim and spoke quietly enough so Bob couldn’t hear. “Come on, I’m just having fun with him. This sissy isn’t hurt that bad, and it’s not our fault he can’t drive worth a shit. I’m just going to scare him a little more.” He turned back to Bob and raised the bat.
“Ah, fuck.” Bob rose to his feet and went for the alternative. He fled around the truck and scrambled up the clay slope.
“Damn. Come on, guys!” David took off after him. The others exchanged glances before giving pursuit.
Bob reached the top and ran into a barbed wire fence, and then groaned as he ripped his shirt away and climbed through it. The edge of a forest was a few yards ahead. He paused to look behind him. It was too dark to see anything, even with the faint glow of the car’s headlights. Then a flash of lightning showed David and Bart climbing the top of the hill.
Chapter 6
Bob entered the woods, stumbling on rocks and thorny brush. The wind blew branches against him, scraping across his wounds and poking into his gouged eye, but he pushed through until he came to a clearing. His body went numb as shock fell in and he grew faint. He almost surrendered to it, but then he heard them catching up and ran harder, fueled by adrenaline and fear. In the next lightning flash, an abandoned fire watchtower was visible ahead with more woods beyond it.
The others emerged from the forest and looked around.
“Where did he go?”
“Do you see him?”
“Let’s just go home.”
Lightning struck the clearing to their right and they all jumped. David pointed straight ahead. “Over there!”
Bob stood in front of the tower, his mind hazy as he fought to remain conscious. He winced at the pain in his head, gathered his strength, and managed to climb a few metal steps before something big tackled him. His mind snapped back with renewed determination. He kicked David away and went the only direction possible: up the spiral stairwell leading to the small room at the top. The others gathered around the base of the tower. Some stood still while others backed up in hopes of glimpsing the race in lightning flashes.
The top of the tower swayed, creaking with the wind like a ship at sea. Bob used the flimsy wood railing to keep from falling, and was ten steps away from the watch room. His body kept telling him to stop, that he would never make it. He pushed on, however, as though that decrepit room was his way into heaven. He knew in his desperate mind that the more he struggled to reach the end, the better off he would be.
The steps stopped at a rectangular hole in the floor. He climbed up into the room and as he began to stand, David appeared through the hole and grabbed his foot.
David said something that sounded like “Gotcha!” It was difficult to tell from the wind howling through the busted windows and rotted holes in the walls and ceiling. Bob used the very last of his energy and strength to kick David away again, and he would not have succeeded this time if the tower was not moving about. David had to let go to keep his balance.
Bob backed against the farthest wall for support as David came through the door and stood. Lightning flashed again and for the first time, David saw the extent of the damage he’d caused. His mouth gaped as he stared at Bob in horror.
“Go ahead,” Bob said between gasps for air. “Take your best shot.” Then his will escaped him and he fainted against the wall. The boards creaked and snapped as they gave in to his weight. Lightning allowed David to get one last look at Bob before he disappeared, falling to the ground with a loud thud. Gene Cropper jumped with a “Yipe!” as the body landed within a few feet from him. The other men stared at it while keeping their distance; they were unsure of which person had fallen.
When David came back down the steps, he explained what happened. Whether they believed that Bob had fainted or David had pushed him, it didn’t really matter. They knew it was time to get as far away from the scene as possible.
*****
Back at Bob’s overturned truck, Jeezy slowly opened his eyes. At first, he had no idea where he was, but then his throbbing head reminded him of the truck rolling over just before he blacked out. He mumbled something to Bob to see if he was all right, but when he twisted his body around, he found that he was alone in the mangled cab. He climbed out and froze when he saw the Monte Carlo… but no one reacted to his presence. After a few cautious steps closer, he could tell the car was empty.
He wanted to call out to Bob but at the same time, he didn’t want to give his position away in case the others hadn’t figured out he was riding along. His mind raced around the issue: he’d given them the finger through the back window, but for all they could tell, it might have been Bob doing it. They knew Bob was leaving his house, so perhaps they assumed he was dropped off.
Talking was heard as the men exited the forest at the top of the slope.
Jesus, what did they do?
He ran in the other direction and ducked behind some roadside brush. They walked on without noticing. They weren’t talking much, but he overheard Bart assuring David they could take the car to the shop he worked at and fix any dents and scrapes sustained during the chase.
Once the men had left, Jeezy returned to the truck. He felt the two large knots on his head and then called for Bob, but received no answer. He walked around on the road calling his name, but the only response was the howling wind and the rumble of thunder. He dreaded entering the woods at the top of the slope, but it seemed the obvious course. He climbed the hill, slipped through the fence, and searched while calling Bob’s name.
He eventually came to the clearing and went straight for the watchtower. In his haste, he stumbled over something and fell down. He wanted to think it was just a stump, a clump of grass, perhaps a rock that had tripped him, but a lightning flash proved otherwise.
Jeezy sat there for several minutes, staring at his best friend’s corpse, waiting for it to move in hopes that he was only unconscious. He was too afraid to check for a pulse or to see if he was breathing because then he’d know for sure he was dead. The lifeless stare in Bob’s one remaining eye told it all, though.
Tears welled up and he let out a mournful scream, repeatedly until his throat became too numb to cry anymore. The storm intensified, reflecting his growing rage. He wanted to look away but forced himself to stare at the body. He didn’t want the grief to subside. He needed the drive to do what he was considering.
“Don’t worry about this, Bob.” Jeezy had a manic gleam in his eyes. “We’re going to make it right.”
He ran to the truck for his tote bag and returned to Bob’s body. He needed to work fast before it rained, ruining his Book of Shadows. He knelt beside his friend and opened the bag. With the lead canister held above Bob and a flashlight propped on his lap to shine on the open book, he recited the incantations. The can began to vibrate violently; so much, in fact, that he could barely hold it. Once the vibrations ceased, he replaced the lid and yelled the final words.
With a bright flash and a loud boom, a bolt of lightning struck the watchtower and the room was engulfed in flames. Jeezy jumped as electricity surged through the ground and gave him a forceful shock. He stared at the blazing tower as it swayed away and toward him, until finally its wooden support beams snapped and it began to collapse above him. With canister in hand, he shoved the book into the bag, jumped over Bob, and took off running. The burning watchtower room crashed on top of the corpse. It missed Jeezy but he kept running in case flying debris or flames were heading his way.
He stepped into a mole hole near the forest and fell, letting go of the canister by accident.
“No!”
Th
e can floated through the air and struck a dead oak tree. The lid popped off and there was a huge gush of wind, noticeable even against the other winds because of its odd sound - as though it were moaning through a tunnel. He remained on the ground with his face in the grass, sulking over his remorse and failure. Not only had he lost his friend, but now he botched the best chance at vengeance.
Then the oak tree shuddered. Its branches rattled hard and a bright green glow swirled in the ridges of its dried bark. Jeezy glanced up, startled, and then realized what he had done. The tree was dead, meaning once animate, which is all that was necessary for the ritual to be successful. But could it really work on a plant? He stood and watched the tree in awe for some time before deciding to head back to the road. After all, he had a long walk ahead of him, and he preferred to get home before the rain started. He crossed the clearing and just before entering the woods, he turned toward the tree once more. The glowing had faded but the green sparks coursing through it were still visible in the dark.
Amazed and full of hope, he spoke to the burning pile of wood and flesh. “See you soon, buddy.”
Chapter 7
Mike Pervitz sat among the bushes in front of his house. Across his lap was a .22 rifle, an old squirrel gun left to him by his father. He was beginning to wonder if Bob and Jeezy were going to show, thinking the storm may have changed their minds. Still, he was concerned for Bob and that nasty wound on his cheek. The cool wind felt good on his face and he enjoyed watching the lightning, so he had no issues with waiting outside awhile longer. It helped to clear the beer fuzz out of his mind.
His wife, Susan, pulled into the driveway shortly before midnight. She was a waitress at a popular restaurant and always closed the place on weekends. She never had to fight for the shifts because the other employees were young enough to prefer parties over extra cash. They were thrilled to be off the clock, and she loved the bigger tips those nights offered. When she got out of the car with a small sack of groceries, Mike yelled, “Hi, sweetheart! How was your day?”
Zombies, Werewolves, Whores, and More! Page 14
