The Demon Dead (Book 2): Troubled Waters

by Arthur M Wyatt

“Ahoy there,” the woman shouted to the boat drifting just off the battery.

  Joseph’s demon flinched several times. Almost attacking but hesitating at the last second. Choosing to remain hidden. The rules of association getting the best of it. It instinctively knew if it confronted these two again it would not be able to remain attached to its host.

  Still, the visual of the attack kept flashing through its mind. Each time it kept control and held back. Finally the demon zombie turned and hurriedly walked away.

  He wandered for several hours until coming across two more of his kind to join forces with. There was no verbal communication between the three. They somehow knew what the others were going to do.

  After patrolling the streets together for a while they stopped abruptly and turned their noses up. Red evil eyes darted back and forth. They sniffed at the air. Their senses were overwhelmed with the biochemical clues that survivors were nearby as the scent grew stronger.

  The three demons positioned themselves in a nearby alley out of site. Crouched in their hiding place they waited. The visual of the attack playing over and over in their minds.

  When the three survivors came into view, the demons attacked. The first two were set upon, dropped quickly and ripped to pieces. Blood and flesh covered the street. The demons stomped on the faces until the skulls shattered and the heads collapsed.

  The third survivor ran. Joseph’s demon zombie on the man’s heels as he ran into a house. The demon beat at the heavy wooden door. Its screams sending a shiver up the spines of the survivors inside.

  Joseph’s demon could hear the people inside shouting to each other. He detected at least three more people inside.

  The demon stood on the porch staring at the door. The entrance was barricaded and the windows boarded up. Finally it stepped up to the door again and screamed. The scream was met with one shot.

  The bullet whizzed by the demon’s head. It growled and turned and walked away.

  The demon joined the others who were still standing over what was left of the two bodies. They knew what he wanted and grabbed the corpses by the feet.

  They dragged the bodies to the house where the survivors were held up, pulled them up on the porch and lay them in front of the door. They ripped open the lower abdomen of the corpses, removed the innards, ripped open the bowels and bladders and poured the contents over the bodies.

  They left to retrieve more. Locating more of their handiwork lying in the street nearby they made the trip back and forth until they had eight bodies stacked in font of the door like firewood. They repeated the process of ripping open the bodies and pouring the contents over them.

  Satisfied with their work they stood over the corpses. One by one they regurgitated black bloody bile rich vomit onto the bodies. One relieved himself onto the pile.

  They retreated to the street and screamed. The collective scream lasted for a minute and trailed off. Afterwards they moved to the shadows and waited.

  The survivors in the house huddled together terrified.

  A cool breeze wafted past the demons nostrils carrying the unmistakable smell of death, blood, bile and piss. They were delighted.

  Soon demons from nearby descended on the area. When enough had gathered, they congregated in the street in front of the house.

  Standing in a circle they looked one to the other. Red evil eyes wild with rage. The intensity grew as they worked themselves into a frenzy. Finally they broke and sprinted for the porch. Concentrating on one window, together they managed to break through and gain entrance to the house.

  The occupants opened fire trying to fight them off. They took out four demons in the process but were soon overwhelmed and succumbed to the onslaught.

  The demons screamed with pleasure as they ripped the bodies apart. Ravenously hungry for death, they devoured the remains.

  After their work was done they climbed out the window and went their separate ways.

  Joseph’s demon made its way around the streets of southern Charleston for the next three days. Whenever it was alerted to a nearby siege it followed the pungent scent trail to the scene and joined forces with other demons to ferret out and kill the survivors. This scene was repeated several times until one night it found itself wandering the battery alone. Its senses heightened, it was on the lookout for an opportunity to attack.

  Hearing a carriage approaching, Joseph’s demon climbed into a large live oak and watched the carriage circle the park and head back his way.

  He crawled out onto a low hanging limb stretching out over the street and waited patiently for the carriage to approach. When it was under the limb he leapt onto the carriage and attacked the gomer driver. The spooked horses took off at a full gallop.

  The demon was thrown back but regained its balance and lunged at the gomer again. They fought for control. The gomer knocking the demon back each time it came at him.

  Finally the demon had a hold of the gomer’s throat and was gaining the upper hand. Two shots rang out. The bullets tore into the demons neck and chest knocking it from the carriage.

  It was thrown out and hit the pavement hard. Tumbling over and over, its arms and legs were shattered with the impact. The damage left it unable to stand.

  It lie in the street helpless. Unable to act. Unable to escape the body of its host.

  The demon watched with hatred as the gomer driver left the carriage, retrieved a large rock from the roadside and brought it down hard on the demons skull which burst like an over ripe melon.

  After impact, the demon, freed from the physical world, was sent back to from which it came. Never to return.

  13

  The Buck Stops Here

  -----------------------------------------------------------悪魔死----------John looked at down at Joseph Ward’s body and thought for a moment.

  “I hope so,” he said. “It would be a shame if he never gave it to her.”

  He reached down and placed the drivers License on the dead mans chest. They looked down for a second at the photo of the man smiling at them from the past. Gazing at them from a world lost forever.

  John wondered what he was doing on December 29th of last year. He couldn’t remember.

  “There but for the grace of God...” Shanna said.

  “That’s a strange thing coming from you,” John said.

  “It’s just a saying,” Shanna said. “Seemed appropriate...”

  They all knew in this world, they could end up like this. They also knew it was best not to dwell on the possibility. Especially considering the task at hand.

  “Ok guys,” Derek said turning back to the Aircraft Carrier looming a block away. “Lets move. I’ll take the lead from here.”

  John turned to Shanna. “You good with that?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said.

  Shanna raised her rifle. The barrel pointing directly at Johns head. “Duck!” she screamed.

  John dropped to the ground as Shanna opened fire. The demon took two rounds in the head and stumbled forward falling just a few feet from John. John jumped to his feet and moved away.

  “Where the hell did he come from?” Derek said looking down at the body. Blood spread out in a large puddle underneath the corpse.

  “We were so caught up in who Joseph Ward was we let our guard down,” John said.

  Derek looked at Shanna. “Good job. I guess you are a member of the team now,” he said.

  Shanna smiled. “Thanks.”

  “No problem,” he said. “You earned it right there. I had my doubts though. You were really getting on my nerves there for a while.”

  Shanna laughed. “Sorry...”

  “No I’m serious,” Derek said firmly. “You were really, really getting on my nerves before.”

  Shanna looked at him nervously. The smile left her face.

  Derek stared at her for a moment of awkward silence then put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Got you,” he said finally and smiled.

 
; “Yes you did...” Shanna said.

  They turned their attention back to the carrier.

  “You see that helicopter right there on the edge closest to us?” John asked. “That’s our bird. Once we climb up at the bow that’ll be the closest one to us. First we’ll have to take off the tie downs. Then we can start it up and leave.”

  “Got it. Lets move,” Derek said.

  They moved back up onto the seawall and made their way to the end. Their path was covered in sand and mud. As they passed the demolished house and wrecked F-18, John was still amazed it hadn’t caught fire. The smell of jet fuel was thick in the air.

  They looked up at the ship. The left corner of the flight deck was directly over head. The Charleston Historic Society building just on the other side of the bow.

  There was a pile of rubble on the sidewalk in front of them. Knocked off the corner of the building when the ship crashed into it.

  The lights on the ship flickered, went out for a few seconds, and came back on.

  “I hope those lights stay on long enough for us to get this done,” Derek said.

  “Well,” Shanna said. “How do we do this?”

  “First we have to get to the other side of the building,” John said. “That’s where the outside stairs are.”

  “Then what,” Shanna asked. “How do we get to the roof from there?”

  “We’ll figure that out when we get there,” John said. “Derek how may flares do we have?”

  “Ten,” Derek said.

  “I have an idea how we can use them,” John said.

  Derek motioned for them to follow him and stepped out into the street to go around the debris on the sidewalk.

  They made their way around the building and to the far side. They passed several zombies writhing on the ground. Too damaged by the fall from the ship to get up or give chase. They gave them a wide birth as they passed. The zombies groped, growled and snapped their teeth at them. Derek thought about finishing them off along the way but decided to keep moving.

  On the other side of the ship they traveled another sixty feet to the entrance of the parking lot. The gates were open. Derek entered first and knelt down.

  “Hold on,” John said.

  Across the street was a service truck. Strapped to the top was an eight foot step ladder. John crossed the street quickly, un-strapped the ladder and carried it back to the others.

  “This,” he said, “is how we’re getting on the roof.”

  “Good catch,” Derek said.

  “Look,” Shanna said pointing to a group of the dead no more than fifty yards away.

  “They smell us,” John said.

  The walking corpses turned toward them. Sampling the air, they breathed deeply, noses raised upwards. The entire mob turned as one and headed for them. The zombie chatter started immediately.

  “That teeth chattering creeps me out,” Shanna said.

  “We better get up there soon,” Derek said. “We can’t fight them all off.”

  Derek headed out for the back corner of the building. John and Shanna followed. They had the same distance to cover as the dead.

  When they reached the stairs, John started up first carrying the step ladder. They made their way to the second landing just as the dead were starting the climb up.

  “Hurry,” Shanna said.

  At the third floor landing John set the ladder against the door and braced it for the others to climb up.

  “Derek you go first,” John said.

  Derek climbed on the roof and un-slung his rifle. The zombies were at the second floor landing and starting up to the third.

  Shanna climbed up next. John made it onto the roof just as two of the dead reached the top. He reached down and grabbed the ladder. Before he could pull it up one of the dead grabbed the ladder and jerked it back. John was almost pulled off the roof. He shoved the ladder back into the zombies face forcing it up against the rail. Derek fired two shots blowing the zombies face apart. It let go of the ladder, fell backwards over the rail and dropped to the ground below with a thud.

  John managed to get the ladder on the roof where they stood back watching the rest of the pack grope at them from the landing. Derek lit a flare and tossed onto the second landing below. The zombies turned and headed for it.

  Turning their attention back to the carrier, they saw they were only six feet below the flight deck.

  “Easy,” Shanna said.

  “Not so fast,” Derek said. “We have company.”

  Alerted by the gunfire the dead on the flight deck congregated at the bow blocking their path onboard.

  “There are too many ,” Shanna said.

  “We have to lure them to one side so we can climb up the other,” John said. “Remember, it’s the helicopter on the right side.”

  “You get it cranked up,” Derek said. “We’ll take off the tie downs.”

  Shanna laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” Derek asked.

  “You said cranked,” she said smiling. “It’s a helicopter not a tractor.”

  “Wow...” Derek said grinning. “You do have a sense of humor.”

  “Give me two flares and have a couple more ready,” John said. “I’m going to draw them to the right side. You two set up the ladder as soon as you have a clear spot.”

  “You got it,” Derek said.

  The noise was increasing as more crowded the end of the ship. They were worried that at any second they could tumble off and onto the roof. John went to the edge of the carrier, lit a flare and tossed it up hoping to land it on the right front side of the deck. It bounced off one of the dead and fell to the ground below.

  The closest zombies became even more agitated and followed it over the side. Falling to the pavement below. John lit another and threw it further onto the deck this time.

  “Derek give me two more.”

  Derek handed him two flares. He lit them quickly and threw them up and over the dead crowding the end of the deck. The zombies turned and headed for them.

  Elbowing for position, they crowded the flares basking in the sulfur smoke. Derek quickly set up the ladder.

  “Lets go!” he shouted.

  When they were all safely on deck they headed for the helicopter.

  “Oh my God,” Shanna said at the sight of the number of zombies on the deck.

  “Run!” John shouted sprinting for the aircraft. “Just run!”

  The flares were only a temporary distraction. Seeing the three survivors running across the deck brought them out of their sulfur induced trance and they shuffled after them.

  As they neared the helicopter more poured out of the open hatch in the superstructure.

  John reached the helicopter first. Shanna and Derek close behind. The dead converging from all sides.

  A demon appeared from behind one of the fixed wing aircraft, screamed and sprinted after them. Derek fired taking it out before it crossed the fifty feet of deck between them. He continued to fire while John and Shanna tried desperately to get the tie downs off the helicopter.

  They struggled with them finally managing to get one off. They worked on the next but realized they were out of time. The dead were closing in.

  “It’s no use!” John screamed turning his attention now to getting inside the aircraft. He slid the door open, pulled Shanna by the collar and pushed her in.

  The dead were now on Derek who was trying desperately to hold them off until John and Shanna made it safely into the aircraft. He pushed them back and fired at the closest ones.

  “Derek!” John screamed. “Get in we can’t stop them.”

  Derek turned to run but took only two steps before tripping and falling over the tie down they had thrown to the side. He rolled over onto his back and emptied the clip of his rifle into the mob only feet away. He screamed in anger at his empty weapon.

  Getting to his feet he wielded the rifle like a club smashing the skulls of three of his attackers.

  John fired his rifle from
the open door. Managing to take out four.

  “Derek run!” Shanna screamed.

  Derek turned and ran for the helicopter again. He dove inside as John slammed the door shut. All three fell to the floor panting.

  “Holy fucking shit!” Derek shouted. “We’re screwed. There’s no way out of this now.”

  The helicopter rocked as the walking corpses pushed against it. Bloody, angry, hazy eyed faces pressed against the glass. The cacophony of the dead beating on the fuselage was deafening. The helicopter shook violently.

  John climbed into the pilot’s seat and flipped switches.

  “What are you doing?” Shanna asked. “We’re still tied down.”

  “Give me your rifle,” Derek said to Shanna as he climbed into the co-pilot’s seat.

  “What are you going to do?” John said.

  “I’m going to shoot the tie downs off,” Derek answered.

  He opened the door enough to get the barrel of the rifle out and tried to get it pointed at the closest tie down. It was no use. After only a few seconds the dead turned their attention toward him. Without getting a single shot off he had to close the door.

  The dead had surrounded the aircraft on all sides and were now staring at them through the front windows and beating on the glass.

  One of the dead sailors pressed its face against the window and snarled at Derek. Its jaw was broken and hanging loose making its mouth look huge. It reminded Derek of one of his favorite movies.

  “Hey, who’s this?” Derek said tapping John on the arm and motioning toward the zombie at his window. “You’re one ugly mothufuckuh...” he said with a thick fake Austrian accent.

  “Schwarzenegger...” John said with a straight face. “Predator, 1987.”

  “Yep...”

  “Guys really,” Shanna said. “We’re about to die and you’re doing movie trivia? Are you serious?”

  Derek looked at John and shrugged.

  When Derek looked back the zombie that had been looking in the window seconds before was knocked to the side.

  In his place appeared another of the dead. This one looked in at them and screamed. Evil red eyes stared into Derek’s.

  Instinctively Derek recoiled. “Shit!” he shouted. “Demon.”