Horror Stories: A Macabre Collection
Page 8
Tom’s father had dropped them off. He’d be back to pick them up in a few hours, but it was only ten minutes before he’d wanted to leave. Sally didn’t care. She was used to assholes. She thought most of the world was full of them. And she was probably right.
They walked away from the troublemakers, trying to make the best of it. Tom squeezed his fingers into a fist, keeping it ready in his pocket. They didn’t follow, at least not yet. The kids moved on to other prey, and they seemed content with that.
It was a busy night at the boardwalk. Everyone under the age of twenty-one was out tonight, and hormones were riding high. You could feel it in the air. Everything was hot and sticky, but kept at bay by the breeze from off the water. That cool smell of seaweed, driftwood, and sand. The sounds of the wind and the surf were smooth and relaxing, and after a few moments of listening to it Tom relaxed enough to let his fist fall back into being a hand and he used it to stroke Sally’s arm.
Sally had worked her ice cream down to the cone. She had some of it on the sides of her mouth and Tom wanted to lick it off, but he knew she wouldn’t go for that. That’s what he thought at least, but she liked him more than she let on. But what did Tom know? Tom knew nothing of girls; they were just a big beautiful mystery. Even men don’t really understand women, its just the nature of it, there’s nothing wrong with it. That’s just the way it is.
They leaned on the railing overlooking the beach. The night was early and the horizon was still mixed with blue and purple and hints of red. It was really something to see, and they appreciated it. The sounds of cars rushed by behind them. Some of them roared, some of them whizzed, and some of them even puttered along. Sally looked at him, wiping her mouth and smiling. She didn’t want just ice cream tonight. She wanted Tom’s company. She was happy he took her out tonight, but she hoped he would try to kiss her. Maybe he’s just clueless, she thought, or maybe he’s chicken shit. Didn’t matter though, Sally wasn’t. She leaned in, her eyes closed, and Tom started shaking with nervous anxiety, but he went in anyway. They’re lips met and Tom felt weak in his knees–it was happening, he thought. The prettiest girl in the world just kissed me, his mind went bonkers.
“That’s not cool, man,” came a snake-like voice from behind them.
“Get lost man,” Tom said.
“Kissing my girl and telling me to get lost?” The kid shook his head while the others at his side grinned.
“I’m not your girl. Leave us alone,” Sally snapped.
Tom stepped forward, his shoulders hunched down and his fingers ready to curl up into a fist. Sally didn’t back down, she stood her ground and looked the troublemaker dead in the eye.
“Looks like you want to fight, now,” the kid said.
“Not looking, but ready. We don’t want any trouble. We just want to be left alone,” Tom said.
“Go ahead, no one’s stopping you,” the kid smiled, “but my girlfriend over there has some explaining to do.”
“Something I should know?” Tom turned around to ask Sally.
“No. I don’t know this creep,” she said, “I’ve never–Tommy lookout–”
The kid moved fast, landing a right hook on Tom’s jaw catching him unawares and leaving him stunned. By the time Tom knew what happened a second fist was coming at his face from the same kid. Sally’s screaming filled the air behind him as the rest of the troublemakers moved forward. Tom dodged the second swing, sidestepping the strike and delivering one of his own. By luck, Tom struck the kid square in the nose, and it bled like a faucet. The kid clutched his nose and backed away as the others swarmed in.
Tom swung again, hitting another kid in the neck but not hard enough to hurt him. As he readied another swing one kid dove at his waist tackling him to the ground. They wrestled and rolled, flailing wild shots at each other. Sally tried to pull the kid off of Tom, but she was pulled back by one of the other kids. The one with the bloody nose ran to Tom as he was rolled onto his back and kicked him in the ear. He kicked him again and again, bloodying his shoe and leaving Tom’s face a bloody mess. Sally kicked and squirmed her way free from the kid holding her and turned to him. The kid was about to reach for her, when she reached out and slashed his face with her nails. She scraped the kids open eye and he dropped to the ground screaming obscenely about it.
The others paid no attention to them as they worked Tom over. By now, people from the boardwalk began to gather around and drew the attention of some of the vendors, and game announcers. Sally ran toward Tom and grabbed one of the kids from behind, digging her sharp nails into his eyes. It worked for the one kid, so why not another, she figured. And sure enough, it did, but this time the kid was able to land a hard elbow to her face. They both fell to the ground.
The cars on the drag seemed to rev their engines louder to make up for the noise on the boardwalk. Like they were cheering on the action or trying to steal away the attention from the crowd.
One of the game announcers left his post, carrying a large mallet, the test-your-strength-type of mallet that weighed ten pounds more than it should. He pushed through the crowd of kids that had gathered, yelling for them to break it up. When the troublemakers saw him they scattered, revealing the bloodied Tom who writhed in pain clutching his head. He had at least one missing tooth and a broken nose. Sally got up,, her eye blackened from the blow and went to Tom’s side.
The troublemakers ran off the boardwalk and into the street. A black car roared down the street, picking up speed as they crossed the busy roadway. The car clipped one of the kids in his leg as he was crossing the yellow dotted line that separated the lanes. The kid flipped in the air, screaming as his leg twisted and cracked from the impact of the car. He landed face first into the pavement. The others didn’t even look back. Someone from another car got out to help him. The others ran.
“You okay, Tom?” Sally asked.
“Do I look okay?”
“No. You look terrible,” she replied.
“Too terrible to kiss,” he asked.
“No, not that terrible, but not until you clean up that blood,” she smiled.
“Your eye,” Tom noticed, “what happened to your eye?”
“One of those jerks hit me.”
“What assholes!”
“Yeah, but the hell with them, they’re gone, now,” she tried to smile.
“I guess.”
The game announcer brought a rag with some ice in it. Tom took it, thanked the man and began applying it to his face.
The kid with the bloody nose led the charge through a parking lot just past the street. Two others followed behind, slowly losing speed.
“I think Nick got pinched,” one of the kids called out.
“Screw ‘em, keep moving…I think we killed that fuck on the boardwalk,” the kid with the bloody nose said.
“You think so?”
“Yeah, he wasn’t moving.”
At the end of the lot a shimmering ink-spot of a car appeared with bright lights that seemed to hover just above the ground. Its engine rattled with precision and when the driver revved it, it roared like a cougar. It accelerated toward the three kids as their run turned into a walk. It accelerated faster than any car should’ve been able to. It struck all three of the kids, knocking them down like bowling pins. The kid with the bloody nose lie mangled on the street. His neck broken and his arm twisted in an unnatural postmortem pose. The other two lie next to each other, one unconscious but still breathing and the other on his side clutching at his leg. The car slowly backed up, purring like a cat that had just been fed. The kid that was still awake tried to look into the window at the driver, but all he could see was blackness, like the car was one big wet shadow. He couldn’t make out what make or model it was. He wasn’t even sure if what he saw was real. Then the car sped away, kicking up a trail of dust and dirt. The kid coughed and then tried to wake up his friend, as the dead one seemed to stare at them from the other side of the strip.
“I’ll be fine,” Tom told the anno
uncer, “thanks for helping me out…and for the ice.”
“No problem. Just get that looked at and take it easy, will ya?”
“I’ll make sure of that,” Sally said, as they walked away.
“My dad won’t be here for a while still, so let’s just sit okay,” Tom said.
“Yeah, sure,” Sally said, rubbing his back.
His father wasn’t supposed to be there yet, but as they left the boardwalk and headed to the street he was parked by one of the meters and looked to be getting out.
“Dad, what’re you doing here already?” Tom asked.
“Oh, yeah, I know I’m early–hey, what the hell happened to you?”
“He stuck up for me,” Sally answered.
“Are you kids okay?”
“Yeah, just a bit banged up is all,” Tom tried to act cool about it.
“My ass, we’re taking you to the hospital.”
“Dad…”
“No arguments.”
“Fine.”
They walked to the car and Tom’s father opened the door for both of them, but before getting into the car Tom spotted a red mark on the hood.
“Looks like blood on the car, dad,” Tom pointed out.
“That’s not blood, kiddo, had a couple of troublemakers throwing food at the side of the road after I dropped you two off. Strawberry syrup. Guess they didn’t care for the ice cream here too much, I always liked it.”
“I liked the ice cream,” Sally said, “it’s the jerks I could do without.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Tom’s father said, closing the door.
They drove off, heading to the hospital in a car as black as the night itself.
About the author
Steve Wands lives in New Jersey with his wife and son. He’s a comic book letterer for DC Comics by day, and an artist and writer by night. He drinks massive amounts of coffee, and sleeps very little. He is the author of Stay Dead: The Stranger and Tunnel Rats, Words Like Daggers, Modern Nightmares, Damaged, and plenty of short stories. He also co-edited and contributed to Dark: A Horror Anthology. Visit his blog here: http://www.stevewands.blogspot.com
Discover other titles (Stay Dead: The Stranger & Tunnel Rats, Dark: A Horror Anthology) by Steve Wands at https://www.smashwords.com
Check out the Stay Dead blog:
http://www.pleasestaydead.blogspot.com
Nice words from nice people about Stay Dead: The Stranger & Tunnel Rats available from smashwords.com
“…focuses on atmosphere and desperation…gruesome and really interesting, both stories oozing hopelessness…a really strong debut.”
Corey Graham formerly of the Midnight Podcast
http://www.midnightpodcast.com
“One of the most humanizing zombie stories since Romero’s Night Of The Living Dead.”
Bryan Wolford of the Drunken Zombie Podcast
http://www.drunkenzombie.com
“This collection of short stories is brutal and heart breaking. Steve Wands describes the state of the world in the midst of a zombie outbreak as if he were there. These tales will make you feel like you know the characters and are sharing in their plight.”
Mike Benedict of The Cadaver Lab Podcast
http://www.cadaverlab.com
“…one of the more intense and downbeat endings you will ever read… endlessly fun…nothing wasted…no pulling of punches.”
Desmond Reddick of Dread Media
http://www.dread-media.com
“…very well done…makes you want more…a great read… I couldn’t put this down.”
Darryl Pierce of A Little Dead Podcast
http://www.alittledead.com
Stay Dead: The Stranger & Tunnel Rats was also nominated for a 2009 Mail Order Zombie Dead Letter Award for Best Zombie Book/Fiction.
http://www.mailorderzombie.com
Table of Contents
From The Page
Of Dust and Dirt
The Seed
The Beast
Old Flames Burn Just the Same
Shelter
Traveling Terrors
Tunnel Rats
Hell Comes for the Hurried
Kaleidoscope Eyes
Versions
TV Casualty
The Last Broadcast
The Car