Clifton Falls

by L A Taylor

  The written words read: “Man on the television is a lying cheat. He definitely cheated on his wife and the other woman is having his baby.” Mary smiled and agreed.

  She’d allowed herself to be distracted inside some kind of a shocked, daydream moment. This was a big mistake because now her guard had come down.

  The zombie skimmed the knife blade across her left cheek, leaving a graze. Mary was now left in a state of shock and couldn’t think straight as the zombie moved in for the kill. “Who are you? What do you want?” she shouted, hurriedly spraying out the shaking words. “You look like my husband’s mother, but you can’t be, she’s dead. Who the hell are you?”

  Mary was now covered in a blanket of fear as crazy thoughts about her mother-in-law overloaded her brain.

  What the hell had happened? she thought.

  The small gash seeped blood. She moved, heading for another door, but the spluttering snarls that escaped the zombie’s mouth froze her before she could achieve this. Desperately, she faced the intruder. She pushed an armchair between her and the monster for protection, hoping to keep the mad freak at arm’s length. She needed to think fast, but her brain remained tangled with the increased pressure of recent thoughts. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she began to shake. What could she do? She could risk going for the phone but it was too risky to try. The zombie would be on her like a leech to the skin before she could make a call.

  The monster became impatient with its prey, so a disintegrating left hand gripped onto the piece of furniture. It was shook from side to side with a lot of force until loosened from Mary’s grip. She screamed. The noise bounced off the walls around her as the armchair was sent spinning.

  Mary began to lose her nerve, stupidly trying to push past the monster in order to flee back through the kitchen, but the beast slapped a hand onto her trailing right arm like a bear trap closing in on its victim. It launched her lightweight body into the air, sending her crashing against the television set, smashing it against the wall. This wasn’t a good sign for Mary because another one of her favourite programs was on soon and it looked like she would miss it.

  The frightened woman heard faint thumping against the wall as the screeching voice of the neighbour shouted his disgust at the racket coming from her house. The last few words to enter Mary’s eardrums were: “Keep the fucking noise down.”

  Mary stood up again, but on this occasion remained dazed. The zombie lashed out with the blade again, leaving more stinging cuts on her face. She was left with blurred, watery vision. Mary pleaded with the assailant to stop but felt helpless trying to protect herself. She’d no idea where the beast was going to strike next. She swung her fists to hopefully catch the creature with a lucky punch but an abnormal hand reached out, gripping her jaw. Mary’s body was pushed backwards until her head smacked loudly against the wall above the fireplace. The blade closed in again but this time didn’t slash her, instead, it slowly rested on the tip of her nose, allowing Mary to feel the coldness of the rusty blade against her skin. If there was a time when she wanted to see her husband, this was it. Mary couldn’t stop herself from urinating on the carpet as she cried and pleaded for her life. Fear had a way of making this happen.

  With a swift movement of the blade, the knife sectioned away the edge of Mary’s nose. Blood gushed down over her mouth and chin before eventually soaking into her blouse. She sobbed frantically now. The agony was too much for her. She remained stiff and crying. The zombie gazed at the fountain of red stuff, producing an evil smile just before its ferocious, tasteless teeth crunched into the rest of her nose. The zombie seemed satisfied with this meal.

  The excited creature licked blood away from Mary’s face. She felt the roughness of the shrivelled tongue as it brushed away the red juices from the wound. The zombie let go of her, but the bitten off feature was crunched between its teeth. Mary watched in horror. She collapsed to the floor in extreme agony and fainted. The zombie smiled again, taking advantage of the situation. The sadistic fiend moved in to feast on her before she could recover.

  NINE

  The crazy, mad killer staggered along the country lane with fresh blood soaked into the crusty mud patches of the worn away clothing, giving the beast more colour. It wasn’t bothered where it went. It was now on a journey to anywhere.

  An engine roared in the distance, increasing as the seconds ticked by. The monster’s head lifted slightly, its one good eye scanning the vicinity for the direction of the sound, but a bend in the road prevented the creature from seeing the large, Volvo truck heading in its direction. The noise grew louder, unsettling the zombie. It wasn’t sure of what it was going to do next, so turned around in an attempt to escape. The driver blasted the horn repeatedly as the truck neared. This confused the zombie even more. It placed its hands on its head, turned around again and faced the vehicle.

  The driver shouted. “Get out of the fucking way.”

  The zombie remained like a statue, not processing what the man said. The lorry braked, screeching along the road, the tyres imprinting black transfers into the previously quiet, country lane. The truck crashed into the zombie with extreme force, exploding the body on impact. The head severed from the neck and landed in the path of the moving, front wheels, while dismembered pieces of body splattered against the windscreen, leaving chunks of flesh, body organs, and blood on the machine’s bodywork.

  Pure shock hit the driver. He was lucky not to have lost control of the truck. As soon as it settled to a stop he climbed down and headed for the carnage. The sight made the man’s stomach feel very unsettled and he was close to being violently sick. Upon moving away from the splattered mess, returned to his vehicle and contacted the police. He remained in his seat after the call, staring into space while waiting for someone to arrive.

  Five minutes passed before any police personnel arrived. Wayne and Jason were the officers assigned to this case.

  “You must be the driver of this vehicle?” Jason asked, as the driver walked over to him.

  Jason was in his early twenties, clean-shaven, dark blonde hair, stopping just past his ears. He had the attitude problem of a hyperactive, spoilt brat, but did his job and Wayne liked working with him. Being a young Constable, he was in charge of writing details down on his notepad.

  “Yes. My name’s Frank. I was driving along this road when I saw a person standing in the middle of it.” He watched the reaction of the other men’s eyes, hoping they believed him. “I tried telling the person to get out the way, but they didn’t move. I braked, but it was too late.”

  Jason took this opportunity to look at the black skid-marks left by the truck, knowing the man was telling the truth about slamming on his brakes because the proof was right there.

  Frank’s nerves took over. Wayne moved closer to him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. Jason interrupted the other men, raising his pen as if to ask a question.

  “So, exactly where’s the person you knocked down?”

  “Everywhere,” replied Frank.

  “What do you mean everywhere?” Jason snapped.

  Frank pointed out that when he hit the body it was torn to pieces, and apart from the bits stuck to the front of the vehicle, the rest had landed in the grass verge by the side of the road. Jason jotted down the information and followed the path.

  Wayne, a Sergeant, who was in his early thirties, with dark brown, short hair, and a much larger body-frame than his partner, stayed with Frank. Both concentrated closely on Jason’s footsteps.

  Jason’s left boot stood in something sticky so he stopped to take a closer look. Chunks of clotted tissue had left a trail of red colouring so he followed it until reaching the spot where the answer waited for him. Yes, he could see that something registering human remains was there.

  “I’ve found something and it doesn’t appear to be very pretty. I’m taking a closer look to see what it is.”

  “Okay, you do that,” said Wayne.

  Jason couldn’t believe his eyes at w
hat he saw. Arms and legs lay on the grass, showing clear signs that the person had been brutally murdered and not run over as Frank had explained. He began to wonder if Frank was lying, and his story had been concocted to hide the fact that he was a killer. Jason always thought the worst in other people. According to him, all strangers were murderers. He changed his thoughts after a few more seconds because the body pieces looked so far decayed that nobody could have killed this person within the past few hours, in fact, not even within the past week or so. Jason was completely puzzled.

  “I think we’ve a slight problem here,” he shouted to Wayne. The other men concentrated even harder on Jason’s actions. “You said this body stood in the road just before you knocked it down with your truck. Is that right?” the disgusted constable asked Frank.

  Frank nodded to confirm his answer.

  Wayne stepped in. “Jason, what’s your point to all this? You know what happened, so why all the questions?”

  “I think you’d best come over; take a peep. You’re going to love this.”

  The other men moved closer to Jason. Once there, also saw the sickening sight by the roadside.

  “My God, you definitely hit them,” Wayne said, as a sick taste built up in his throat.

  “Take a closer look if you would, Wayne. You’ll see that this body wasn’t killed by the lorry because it’s been dead for over a week.”

  Frank was at the point of fainting when he heard those words. Wayne stared at the carnage in more detail, agreeing with Jason. “You’re right. So what do you think happened then, Jay?”

  Wayne knew the facial expressions Jason put on, and could see from this expression that the young constable had his ‘Sherlock Holmes’ head on at this time. Jason turned, glaring at Frank again. “I’ll tell you what I think, shall I? This man murdered the victim and stored the body in the back of his truck. This quiet, country lane was the place where he wanted to dump the body.” He pulled a serious face as taunting fingers pointed at Frank. “Dumping it wasn’t the answer because he might still get caught, so, ran it down until it was unidentifiable before phoning the police with this bullshit story.”

  Wayne couldn’t tell if Jason’s judgement theory was an honest one, or, if he was just winding the truck driver up. Frank became more worried. “But I’m telling you the truth, officer. That person was walking when I hit them.”

  He was on the verge of pleading now.

  “Have you been drinking, sir?”

  Jason was either very serious about arresting this man or was playing a good game at making Frank think he was, but Frank couldn’t cope with the constant questions.

  I’m no killer, but how am I going to get out of this mess? he nervously thought.

  “I haven’t had a drink, officer.”

  This was the moment when Jason cracked up with laughter. “Sorry, bud. I couldn’t resist taking the piss. We know this person was already dead but you swear you ran them over. It’s just a little freaky for me. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Frank was speechless toward Jason’s voice now, so Wayne stepped in. “Okay, Frank, this is what I want you to do. We can’t really achieve a lot here so I want you to drive to the police station. It’s about two miles from the junction at the end of this stretch of road. You can’t miss it because it’s signposted from there. Wait for us to return. If anybody asks why you’re there just tell them you’re waiting for officers Wayne Strong and Jason Ball to return from the scene of the accident.”

  “I’ve got it,” replied Frank, pleased to be able to focus on the clear instructions.

  He returned to his vehicle and started it up again. The windscreen wipers were turned on to erase the left over debris from the glass before the truck drove off.

  Wayne and Jason looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and laughed. Wayne took control of the situation, ordering Jason to contact the station for help in closing off the stretch of road.

  They drove further down the road in search of more clues to this case, but the car suddenly halted after another thirty seconds. To the side of the road appeared another vehicle. “Could be connected,” said Jason. “Let’s check it out.”

  He phoned headquarters again, passing over the number plate reading of the empty vehicle. A voice from the other end acknowledged that the car hadn’t been stolen but wasn’t registered to anyone from the local area. The owner was a Miss Charmaine Pratt who lived in Nuneaton, Warwickshire.

  The police vehicle pulled up alongside the deserted, mystery car. The officers noticed that the doors were shut, but after closer examination spotted that the driver’s side window had been smashed with dried blood patches formed around it. The men were now on extreme caution alert. Wayne remained by the police car while Jason concentrated on discovering why the window had been completely shattered, but stopped suddenly after moving to the other side of the vehicle, his face now pale with shock. Wayne studied his partner’s actions, thinking this was very peculiar. “Jason, mate, what’s up with you? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Jason never replied, just remained frozen. Wayne decided to take a look so moved over to the other man, whose eyes were still transfixed on the same location. He followed the direction of Jason’s eyes until his own rested on the sickest sight he’d ever witnessed in his lifetime. There, below the men was the remains of a torn to pieces human. The chopped up corpse was bad, but this fresh one was a lot worse to view. Wayne collapsed to the ground as Jason snapped out of his trance.

  “Hey, man, are you okay?” Jason asked, lifting Wayne up.

  “I’m fine. I just felt a bit faint.” Wayne stared back toward the carnage on the roadside. “Who fucking did this? I’ve never seen anything as grotesque.”

  “There’s some strange shit going on today. First we find a dead body that was presumably walking around, and now this. What’s going to happen next?” Jason asked.

  He phoned headquarters for the third time and reported on the findings, but was worried about how the chief would react to the news. He needed to make it sound real but would the Chief Inspector actually believe what was going on in Clifton Falls today?

  Frank remained in a shocked state of emotion and almost knocked down another eerie character swaying in the road on his journey to the police station.

  What’s going on around these parts? Was there some kind of freaky ritual happening where people were fucked up on drugs or something?

  The truck stopped. He exited, but took his steel, steering wheel lock with him for protection. Frank watched the troubled looking figure closely, spotting an injury to the warped appearance of the stranger. Dried blood was wrapped around the throat and face like a sticky, red necklace. “Are you all right? Can you tell me what happened to you? Do you need help?” He asked, as he approached edgily.

  He received no reply, so thought the wounded victim was too traumatised to speak. Frank’s first reaction was to see if any liquid still poured out of the severed larynx, so moved closer, until he was six feet away. The blood-drenched figure stared, smiling at the human, its eyes teasing the man, making him think it was being friendly toward him. “Do you need any assistance? You’ve been hurt. Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?”

  More questions followed, but still no reply came. Frank thought this weirdness had something to do with drugs and maybe this person had taken some. He touched the mysterious, road wanderer’s hand but a signal alerted the zombie’s brain, switching on the serious side again. The creature’s facial expression swiftly changed from a smile to a glare, its mouth opened, displaying gnashing teeth. A rapid head movement enabled the corpse to snap out with its biting jaws but Frank avoided confrontation, stepping back from the complete surprise attack. He now thought this person was either frightened of him because he was a stranger, or, a mad lunatic, so tried calming the crazy female down, but this was to no avail. The zombie freaked out. It grabbed onto his jacket as both bodies wrestled for a few seconds. Frank knew he would have to use the
wheel lock to scare the assailant if it kept attacking him, but if he wasn’t careful then it would only be a matter of time before the gnashing teeth eventually reached their designated target.

  Frank’s endurance faded fast, allowing the creature to increase pressure. It finally bit into the worried man’s, upper right arm. Cloth was forced away from his charcoal coloured, denim jacket before infected teeth tore through his flesh.

  Frank released himself from the zombie’s grip, placing his left hand over the wound to stem the flow of blood. The crazy person stood in front of him eating the extracted piece of flesh. Frank hoped this was just an illusion, but knew he was in a fucking nightmare.

  He removed his blood soaked hand from the deep gash, seized the wheel lock from the drained of energy body-part and lifted it above his head. “Right, you’d better fuck off before I hit you with this. You’re a sick, twisted bitch,” he shouted, cringing from the stinging pain. There seemed to be no sign of retreat from the monster, so Frank became more forceful. “I mean it. If you don’t get away from me now then I’m going to smack you so hard that your head will end up next to your arse.”

  The monster shuffled toward him. Whatever Frank said had increased the zombie’s anger and it wanted to taste his flesh again. The beast lunged forward but was stopped in its tracks. The steel object crashed down, splitting the skull clean open like an egg being cracked into a frying pan. Brain matter and bone fragments sprayed over the truck driver’s face and clothing. The weapon dropped. Frank wiped his coat sleeve over his face to enable clearer vision. He was now taken aback by his recent actions because he thought he’d killed a human being.

  That has to be a prison sentence for me now, surely. The officer who wound me up would love this outcome.

  The corpse stood still for a few seconds. Weird facial expressions appeared just before it toppled over. All thoughts of this being human were now erased from Frank’s mind. The battle was over, but his anger remained. He had to know if this thing was dead or alive so began kicking out repeatedly at the lifeless body. When he’d had enough he glared at the battered corpse. “You fucking bitch. I’ve got to buy a new coat now. If I’d known you were hungry then I would’ve given you a bone.”