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The Demon Dead (Book 2): Troubled Waters

Page 8

by Arthur M Wyatt


  He screamed in pain. “Damn it!”

  He was finally able to jerk his legs away from his attackers and slammed the roll up door shut again. He slid away from the door and lie on the floor writhing in pain and bleeding from his wounds. His leg throbbed.

  “Damn it, damn it , damn it!” he screamed pounding his fist into the floor each time.

  Oh God I’m dead... I should have waited... Such a dumb ass, he thought.

  He stayed on the floor for the next ten minutes trying to get up the courage to fight his way out. His heart beat faster. Pounding in his ears.

  He felt more and more ill with every passing second. Sweating profusely he could feel his temperature rising rapidly. His stomach retched, he turned onto his side and vomited.

  Rolling onto his back again he breathed deeply. He was soon unconscious.

  He woke an hour later surprised to still be alive. He looked at the keys still clutched in his hand.

  If I can just get to my gun I can end this, he thought.

  Looking around the truck he saw a crowbar lying on the floor near a bucket of tools. He stood, stumbled, and leaned against the side of the truck to steady himself. His legs were weak. His wounds sent waves of pain through his body.

  Blood ran from his ears and nose. He wiped at it with his sleeve. Blue veins bulged from his hands. Red streaks ran up his arm. His vision was hazy. He blinked hard and shook his head.

  Grabbing the crow bar he pulled on the strap and sent the roll up door flying upwards slamming into its frame. There were two zombies close by. Both turned and approached the truck. He climbed down and braced himself for the attack he knew would come.

  The two walking corpses approached slowly. Neither made a move to attack. He raised the crow bar over his head ready to bring it down on the closest one but still no indication an attack was imminent.

  He lowered the crow bar and waited. The two male zombies came up to him and stopped. They studied him closely. One leaned in and sniffed. The other got close enough for Robert to smell its putrid breath.

  It stared him in the eye, growled weakly and snapped its teeth together. Robert thought it was trying to decide weather or not to attack. Finally it turned and walked away. The other followed.

  He sensed that either they thought he was one of them or he was too far gone to be considered fresh meat.

  Robert laughed. “Stupid fuckers...”

  Turning, he headed out for where his car was parked.

  One block, he thought. Please God, just one block.

  He stumbled forward. Each step becoming harder than the last. Each foot seem to weigh a ton. Each breath burned as if he was breathing fire. The pain in his body was excruciating. It was as if he were being eaten alive from the inside. Yet he struggled forward. Just four car lengths to go.

  Finally he made it to within two car lengths but stumbled and tripped over the curb. He fell face first on the concrete. He attempted to crawl but was unable to. The keys still clutched in his hand, he clawed at the sidewalk trying to pull himself forward. It was no use. He felt himself fading.

  As his sight dimmed, and the pain faded, he raised the keyless remote and pushed the open button twice. He heard the mechanical click as the door unlocked and saw the tail lights blink twice.

  He rolled over onto his back and raised the keyless again. This time he pushed the lock button three times. He heard the doors lock and the horn blow twice.

  He felt consciousness slipping away and knew this was the end.

  “Fucking zombies...” he muttered with his last breath.

  His right arm flopped to the ground, the keys still tightly gripped in his dead hand.

  Silence...

  Darkness...

  Nothingness...

  His dead body lie where it fell for the next twenty minutes.

  Then perception began to flash in and out like a neon sign.

  Nothingness...

  Consciousness...

  Nothingness...

  Consciousness...

  Nothingness...

  Consciousness...

  He felt as if he were waking from a nightmare only to pass out seconds later and wake again. He tried desperately to open his eyes. Light faded in and out.

  Darkness...

  Light...

  Darkness...

  Light...

  Darkness...

  Light...

  Finally his eyes opened, blinked hard three times then stayed open. He was staring up at the sky. He tried to look around but had no control over his eye movements.

  He had no feeling in his body.

  He could hear but the sound was muffled.

  He was confused but calm.

  Afraid yet excited.

  His body moved slightly and rolled over onto its side.

  A moan...

  I didn’t do that...

  A long deep groan...

  Teeth snapping together...

  What the hell...

  Silence...

  Darkness...

  Nothingness...

  Consciousness...

  Light...

  Comprehension...

  ... And finally he knew.

  I’m dead...

  He felt at peace. He wasn’t sure why but he was. He thought he should be terrified but he wasn’t.

  An adventurer by nature he was fascinated by what was happening. Somehow excited.

  So this is what it’s like to die...

  His zombie lie on the concrete staring at the sky for another ten minutes.

  What the hell is this thing doing?

  The arms and legs of his zombie moved. It rolled onto it’s side and struggled to its hands and knees, raised its head and screamed.

  Oh my God...

  The scream lasted for thirty seconds. Then stopped abruptly.

  Thank you...

  He could see clearly through his zombie’s eyes although he had no control over its movements. There was no sense of touch. No connection with the rest of the body. He had to look at whatever his zombie was looking at. He had no control over where it directed its gaze.

  His zombie finally struggled to its feet and staggered around in the street for a few minutes as if it was trying to learn how to walk again.

  At one point it bumped into a fire hydrant losing its balance and fell to the ground.

  Great, my zombie is an idiot...

  Robert felt helpless when he realized he was merely a passenger. A stow away. Just along for the ride. He was used to being in control.

  His zombie wandered the streets of Charleston for the next five days. Not venturing past the market and never joining the passing packs of zombies they sometimes encountered. They never took part in the carnage.

  Robert was glad. He had no interest in taking part in the killing. His gomer however seemed to be fascinated with the action and, to Robert’s unheard objections, stopped several times to watch the killing.

  Whenever they came near a car, his zombie would raise the keys still clutched in its right hand and press the unlock button. When nothing happened they would continue on.

  On the third day their route took them by the Battery. As his zombie turned to head back toward the center of town, he saw two people off in the distance heading their way. A man and a woman, wearing dark blue uniform pants and whites shirts, with rifles aimed their way.

  Cool, maybe these guys will put us out of our misery.

  His zombie saw them too and turned quickly to high step behind a house as two shots rang out. Robert heard the snaps of the bullets as the rounds flew over their head.

  His zombie continued on as fast as it could. They did not see the two again.

  On the sixth day while shuffling past the Congregational Church, his zombie wandered into the church compound and made its way to the cemetery gate in the back.

  The cemetery butted up against the St Phillips cemetery on Church Street but was separated from it by a tall wrought iron fence and locked gate.

  Ro
bert was stunned at first, and a little afraid, to see the Saint Phillips Cemetery full of zombies shuffling around in circles.

  There must be hundreds...

  His zombie went to the gate that separated the grave yards and stood staring through to the other side. The dead wandering the graveyard sometimes bumped into each other or grave markers. Robert was surprised to see a fight break out amongst a small group of zombies. He couldn’t tell what they were fighting over.

  Upon closer observation he was able to determine the zombies were trapped. The gate on the other side closed and locked. He wondered how they came to be here.

  Occasionally one of the zombies would stop to look at them but quickly lose interest and move on. Robert watched patiently for the next twenty four hours while his zombie stood and watched the walking corpses on the other side. Robert sensed that his zombie didn’t even know he was there.

  If I had left the truck just two minutes earlier I wouldn’t be in the mess. Get to the car, open the trunk, grab the gun, pull the trigger, it’s over, done...

  The thought was barely out of Robert’s mind when his vision went and everything faded to black then blinked in and out rapidly.

  Darkness...

  Light...

  Darkness...

  Light...

  His zombie stumbled backwards away from the gate, almost fell but recovered. It swayed unsteadily on its feet.

  Robert suddenly had the feeling of vertigo.

  What the hell...

  His zombie headed toward the gate again. It took several steps and stopped, moaned, and screamed.

  His vision blinked out again then came back quickly.

  The zombie shook violently and bent over and vomited. A bloody black mixture of coagulated blood and bile spewed from its mouth. Robert was surprised that he could taste the acid and rotten chunks of undigested food as it passed over his swollen tongue.

  The zombie screamed again and fell to the ground. All faded to black.

  Five minutes later Robert woke. His surroundings came into focus. He could see the gate in front of him. Two zombies from the other side stood watching them.

  What the hell are you looking at?

  His zombie blinked hard twice. His eyes darting back and forth. Robert could still taste the rotten stomach acid and bile. It did not strike him as being unpleasant. He was stunned that he had the sensation of taste.

  His zombie rolled over on onto its back and then onto its side again. It managed to get to its knees and slowly struggled to its feet. Unsteady at first. Finally they managed to high step back over to the gate.

  What is going on here?

  The two zombies watching were still there. One of them stepped up to the gate, looked at them, snapped its teeth together and growled. Robert’s zombie growled back, raised its left arm, reached through the gate and punched the zombie hard in the face.

  Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talking about. Zombie bastard!

  The zombie stumbled backwards and turned to walked off. It turned once to look over its shoulder. Robert’s zombie growled at it again. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself.

  Grunting when one of the zombies passed close by, they passed the rest of the day and into the night standing by the gate.

  At midnight Robert was startled by gunfire. He listened carefully. His zombie became restless. The shots were coming from the street in front of Saint Philips. Someone was shooting at the trapped zombies. He could hear two different weapons firing.

  That has to be the people that shot at us.

  The zombies became agitated. The mass of walking corpses crowded the other side of the cemetery and pushed against the gate.

  He heard another shot. The bullet struck the iron gate destroying the lock and freeing the walking corpses inside. He watched as the dead flooded out of the cemetery and into the street.

  Robert heard shouting but couldn’t understand what was being said.

  After a few minutes the cemetery was empty as the dead filed into the street and into the church. Soon there were no dead left in the graveyard.

  Minutes passed as light became visible through the windows. The inside of the church soon lit up brightly. The light shining through the stained glass window cast eerie dancing shadows on the ground outside. It soon became apparent the church was on fire.

  A few zombies escaped. Emerging from the inferno engulfed in flames only to fall to the ground after a few steps and burn up.

  Robert and his zombie watched the church burn through the night and into the next day. Eventually becoming just a heap of smoldering debris. The charred steeple, still intact but burned and blackened, still stood.

  Day turned to night again as they remained at the cemetery gate. The gomer made no movements and stood in the same spot for hours.

  Robert knew time was passing but didn’t perceive it as before. Every second, every minute, every hour seemed like an illusion. He struggled to make sense of it.

  I think I know what Einstein meant now...

  They watched the night become twilight as the sky lightened behind the burned church.

  They were alone. The cemetery now void of walking corpses.

  Another hour passed before he heard he sound of a helicopter approaching.

  Robert’s zombie tracked the aircraft as it passed over the church and settled into a hover over the cemetery. It hovered for a minute and moved erratically. Robert heard a pop as the helicopter spun out of control.

  He watched it fall into the center of the cemetery and come to a rest on its side. He felt sorry for whoever was inside. He thought he had just watched people crash to their death.

  The rotors came apart and flew in all direction. A piece flew through the gate and hit his zombie’s leg opening a deep wound.

  Just a flesh wound...

  He watched as the survivors finally exited the aircraft. He was surprised they were still alive but glad they were ok.

  He watched them exit the aircraft and gather around it. After a while one man approached the gate. Robert’s zombie stood its ground.

  He saw the rifle in the man’s hands and thought this would be the end. Instead the man stood and stared. Soon another man joined him. He heard them refer to each other as John and Derek.

  Derek turned to John. “Gomer,” he said.

  Gomer? What the hell is a gomer?

  Robert tried to will his zombie to move. To raise his hand in greeting.

  Come on...

  Finally Robert’s zombie raised his right arm in an attempt to wave.

  Did I do that?

  He concentrated hard in an attempt to make his zombie speak. He had given up when the zombie grunted.

  Progress...

  “He’s trying to tell us something,” Derek said.

  “Right,” John said. “But what?”

  How about nothing you dumb ass...

  Robert’s zombie move closer to the gate, looked at the two men closely, stumbled backwards, and turned and walked away.

  Why didn’t they shoot?

  His zombie turned to look back at the men again and continued on to the sidewalk. He crossed the street, walked up to a parked car, raised the key and pushed the unlock button. Nothing happened. He turned to the left and headed off down Meeting Street.

  God this thing is slow...

  They continued on encountering a pack of the dead on their way. The mob turned onto another street. Robert and his zombie continued straight. He could see Saint Michaels ahead.

  At one point Robert heard gunfire. He guessed the survivors of the crash were being attacked. Finally they reached the intersection of Broad and Meeting Streets. Saint Michaels stood before them. Robert’s zombie looked up at the steeple. He could see two people standing with rifles watching. He expected to be shot any second.

  They crossed the intersection and stepped into the covered area at the front of the church. After a few minutes he heard shots again. This time they came from above. Possibly from the steeple and the two
people he had seen minutes earlier.

  Five minutes later he heard a chilling scream at the back of the church. Robert’s zombie stepped over to the open gate at the right side of the church and looked through. He could see the survivors of the crash. A dead zombie on the ground. One of the men approached him.

  “John be careful,” he heard one of the others say.

  John pulled the gate shut and locked it. They stood staring at each other.

  “What’s up there gomer?” John said.

  Gomer? Robert thought. The name’s not gomer... dickhead!

  “So... other than being dead I’m guessing not much,” John added laughing.

  Yeah that’s right John, laugh at the zombie you fucking asshole...

  Robert tried to will his zombie to move. The fact that he had no control was frustrating. His zombie just stood there. Staring at John. Rattling the keys in its right hand.

  God that’s annoying...

  He tried to make his zombie grunt. All he could muster was a smirk. He could actually feel the corner of his zombie’s mouth turn up slightly, then the sensation faded.

  Look at this clown. He has no idea I’m even in here...

  He saw the expression change on John’s face.

  John stepped even closer to the gate and stared intently into Robert’s zombie’s eyes. He was trying to gauge if there was any consciousness there at all.

  Robert tried to will his zombie to vocalize. His zombie finally grunted again.

  Maybe one day I’ll get control of this thing...

  John nodded. Robert’s zombie didn’t move.

  John finally stepped back, turned and headed off to rejoin his friends. Robert watched through the gate as the two men helped the woman up a rope ladder.

  His zombie grabbed the gate with both hands and shook it violently.

  What the hell is this thing doing?

  John and Derek walked over to the gate and stood for a moment eyeing him curiously.

  After a few minutes Robert’s zombie turned and headed down the sidewalk away from the church. Lifting each foot then slapping it down awkwardly.

 

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