Texas Funeral
By: Jack Batcher Texas Funeral
Published by Jack Batcher Great River, New York ©2016 – Jack Batcher www.JackBatcher.com
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, print, or otherwise, without prior written permission by the author.
This book is a work of fiction, Names, Characters, Places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, who are either living or dead, and events, or locals is entirely coincidental.
“Mom! Mom! There is something wrong with Trigger!” Julia Smithers heard her five-year-old son Gary’s urgent call. She left her sewing behind, as she jumped out of her seat at the kitchen table, to see what all the commotion was about. Julia swung open the screen door leading to the back yard and saw their dog, Trigger, acting peculiar. Trigger’s steps were awkward like he was a marionette in the wind. He dragged his right hind leg, while slobbering uncontrollably. Julia feared that Trigger was suffering a heat stroke. The temperature was already over one hundred degrees, and it wasn’t even after noon.
“Gary, you come up here in the house,” Julia called out, “and leave Ol’ Trigger alone, the po’ dog is sick.”
“Yes Mama,” Gary said, running up to the house.
“We’ll let your Daddy take a look at Trigger,” Julia said, closing the screen door behind them.
Trigger let out a high pitched howl that stopped Julia and Gary in their tracks. They quickly turned around to look at their dog. Trigger’s body trembled as he walked like a zombie toward the house. He howled again, only this time the sound was cut short like someone had grabbed Trigger by the throat. Blood burst out of Trigger’s mouth and eyes like a broken dam. His head rolled off his body and with a sickening thump he collapsed down on the grass. A swarm of flies erupted out of Trigger’s decapitated head.
“Trigger!” Gary attempted to run to the aide of his
dog, but his mother dragged him inside, and slammed the door.
“Bill!” Julia called out to her husband, “Come here quick!” There was a loud crash. Bill staggered into the kitchen in a daze. He stumbled like a zombie into the wall. Bill turned to look at his wife and son. He let out a high pitched howl. Blood spurt out of his mouth and eyes. His head fell to the floor as if it were chopped off by an invisible guillotine. Bill collapsed to the kitchen floor knocking over the table. Gary and Julia screamed in horror, as Bill’s head rolled across the yellow and white tiled floor, and stopped by the cabinet under the sink. A swarm of flies came out of his head.
Julia flung open the back screen door. She ran out of the house with her son Gary under her left arm, while dialing 9-1-1 on her cell phone with her other hand. The swarm of flies pursued her as she ran to the front of the house. Gary was crying and Julia barley heard the Police dispatcher answer her call…
“9-1-1 Emergency, this is Tanya speaking. How can I help you?”
“My Husband! The dog! Dead! The flies!” Julia, blurted out through her tears.
“Ma’am please try and calm down,” Tanya said, “Please give me your location.”
“222 Lexington Drive, in Kilgore,” Julia said, “Help us please… The flies are biting me and my son.”
Then Julia lost her cell phone connection. She ran down the road with the flies still biting at her, to her friend Elsie’s house. Elsie lived three houses away and Julia thought she would be safe there until the police arrived. Julia pounded on Elsie’s front door.
“Elsie, it’s me Julia. Let me in!”
“My word Julia, what all is the matter,” Elsie said, as the elderly woman opened the door, “What are all these flies?”
“Bill is dead,” Julia said, carrying Gary into the house, “The dog too. All these flies”
“Mama,” Gary said, “I don’t feel so good.” Gary began to tremble violently in Elsie’s kitchen. Then he began to stumble awkwardly around the room.
“Oh dear God no!” Julia cried, “Elsie this is what happened to Bill and the dog. Quick let’s get him to the hospital!”
Julia grabbed Gary and carried him into the garage. Elsie had opened the back door of her SUV and helped Julia into the truck. Elsie scurried around to the driver’s side, hopped in, and started up the engine. She pushed the button to open the garage door. Blood began to trickle out of Gary ’s mouth.
“Go!” Julia screamed, “He is getting worse!” Elsie floored the gas pedal out of the garage and launched the car onto Lexington Drive, attempting to get Gary to Kilgore Memorial hospital as fast as she could.
“Oh dear Elsie,” Julia said, “I am not feeling to good either. I was bitten by the same flies Gary has been bitten by too.”
“We are almost at the Hospital Julia,” Elsie said. “We are almost there hold on.” It was just after midnight as I rolled my rusted out El Camino passed the welcome sign for Kilgore, The City of Stars. End of the Night, by The Doors, crackled out of the cars old speakers, bringing an apocalyptical eeriness to the hot June night. I was returning from my laboratory at the University of Texas in Austin, where I worked on The Red Fire Ant Project. The projects main focus was to find a way of controlling the Red Fire Ant epidemic that had been plaguing all of Texas, and eventually eradicating the problem all together. The Red Fire Ants were imported here to the United States accidentally in dirt that had come from South America. After studying the Red Fire Ants for some time, I had come to realize that they had no natural enemies here in the United States. With the lack of a natural predator the ants were able to flourish
exponentially.
The last time I was in Kilgore was in the beginning of May. I was here with the permission of the Mayor of Kilgore. The Mayor, Mr. Ricardo Valdez, who used to be the singer and lead guitarist to the Tex-Mex Rock group Lil’ Dickey Valdez and The Fireballs. Mayor Valdez was excited that Kilgore would be instrumental in finding a solution to the Red Fire Ant problem. He did not foresee any harm that my experiment would bring to the people. My experiment was to release Genetically Modified South American Phorid flies, which are known predators of the Red Fire Ants in their native land.
What happens when the South American Phorid Fly attacks the Red Fire Ant? That’s a good question, and I’m glad that you asked. When this particular Phorid Fly attacks the Red Fire Ant, it lands on the Ants back and injects it with larva. The larvae then attack the Fire Ants central nervous system. As the larvae metamorphosis into the Phorid Fly, it uses its influence on the Ants central nervous system to lead it away from the Colony. The Ants movements are awkward and jarring, like a Zombie.
Now that the fly is safely away from the Colony, it now kills the Ant by eating its brain, then chewing through the neck until the Ants head falls off. The fully
metamorphosed Phorid Fly then takes off to reproduce more flies by repeating this same act. This will not eradicate the Red Fire Ant problem immediately. The natural metamorphosis is a slow process, but with my DNA modifications, I was able to speed up the process, while making the flies more aggressive in their attack on the Ant Colonies. It is an environmentally safer solution to poisons, which is good for people, pets, and other livestock.
Mayor Valdez had this to say to me about the experiment. He said, “Mr. Harris, you may conduct your experiment here in the City of Kilgore, but you can bet the devil your head, that if anything goes wrong, you’ll get the full wrath of Mayor Ricardo Valdez. Do you understand me?” Of course I understood, and with a more then generous donation to Mayor Valdez’s private campaign fund, I was able to conduct my experiment.
This seems like a good place for my introduction. I am Raymon
d Harris, Professor of Entomology at The University of Texas, in Austin. My friends call me Ray. So, on May 3rd I released a swarm of my Genetically Modified South American Phorid flies in an open field at Kilgore Park. Now exactly a month later, I am here to see how my experiment is progressing. I am also hungry, so I pull into the parking lot of an all night restaurant, The Road-Kill Café.
I entered The Road Kill Café, by passing under the red and yellow flashing neon sign, of the front end of a car knocking over a deer. Above the carnage are the words Road Kill, and underneath the front tire is the word Café. Before the car hits the deer, the sign is yellow. After the car hits the deer, the sign turns red. I’m hesitant on going in, but there is no place else that will be open at this time of night. I’ll just get a burger. How bad could that be? I open the door; the Café is empty, and its hella- hot inside. I see a sign on the wall with a car running over a squirrel, and a caption which read, “Be decisive. Right or wrong make a decision. The road of life is paved with flat squirrels who couldn’t make a decision.”
“Hola,” Said the waitress, with a sweet Spanish accent, and taking my attention away from the sign, “Welcome to The Road Kill Café. Mi llamo es Carmela, and I will be your waitress,” She said, looking up at me with the biggest most beautiful smile, which was accentuated with bright red lip-stick.
Carmela, I guessed was Mexican, and in her midtwenties. The Road Kill Café’s signature red and yellow striped uniform clung to her every curve, and showed off her beautiful legs. She had a charm that was immediately inviting, and moved gracefully as she removed a menu from the stack of menus. She motioned with her hand to follow her. So, I followed her to a booth, that faced a flat screen television, that hung on the wall. The local Kilgore News was on. I sat down; Carmela placed the menu in front of me, and leaned down giving me a direct view of her cleavage.
“I apologize for how hot it is in here, but our Air
Conditioner broke down this afternoon,” Carmela said, “You look over the menu, and I will be right back with some ice water.” I watched as Carmela sauntered towards the back of the cafe. She definitely had a great shake. Then suddenly, she stopped, looked back over her right shoulder, and caught me watching her. She smiled, and then went through the silver swinging doors into the kitchen.
The newscaster mimed the news, because the sound was off. I read what he was saying underneath with growing concern, because of what the story was about. Headless Rats were found out in the old oil fields. The newscaster continued that the heads did not seem to be severed, but chewed off the body. I then read as the newscaster reported on how an infestation of flies had brought an abrupt end to The Rangerettes Revel at Kilgore College, and how several of the attendee’s had been brought to Kilgore Memorial Hospital to be treated for insect bites.
As the newscast went to commercial, I gazed out the café window, contemplating the news I had just received. I was scared to even give the idea any life by beginning to give it a thought, but a part of me could not stop thinking… what if my experiment had gotten out of control?
I was snapped out of my fear based news hypnosis when Carmela returned with my ice water, placed it on the table, and then took a seat across from me.
“Do you know what you want?” Carmela asked, putting her pad on the table.
“Yes,” I said, “I’ll have the Road Kill Bacon Cheeseburger.”
“How would you like that cooked, Fresh Kill or Day Old?”
“Fresh Kill. Please,” Then I drifted off to look out the window.
“Are you ok,” Carmela asked, placing her hand on mine, “You look troubled.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry,” I said, “I think it’s just been a long drive from Austin, and now my imagination is getting the best of me.”
“Oh ok,” Carmela said, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name.”
“It’s Ray,” I said, “Ray Harris.”
“So, how is your imagination getting the best of you Ray?”
“Its going to sound crazy, but it was the news story I just saw about these rats.”
“The headless rats?” Carmela said, “Dios mio, I saw that story, they have been talking about it all day. That and how this afternoon, a family got attacked by a swarm of flies. The story on the news was so creepy, and it happened only a few blocks from here on Lexington Drive.”
“Flies?” I said.
“Yes,” Carmela said, “Flies. Are you sure you’re ok Ray? You look very pale. Maybe you’re hungry. I’ll go get your burger.”
“Thank you Carmela.”
First there is the news reports about headless rats and the swarm of flies at The Rangerettes Ravel. Now I’m hearing how flies have attacked a family. I’ll have to check the news and find out more about that story after I eat. Time seemed to be suspended in the eerie silence of the empty café. My thoughts began to swarm about the possibility that maybe, I had made a mistake. The silver doors from the kitchen banged open. Carmela appeared, smiling like a game show model, as she brought over my food.
“Here you are Ray,” Carmela said, “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Thank you Carmela,” I said, “I think this will be good.”
I pick up the burger and take a huge bite. Carmela sits across from me again. I think she likes me, and who could blame her for being attracted to a geeky bug guy, who looks like a sickly Daniel Tosh, in horned-rimmed glasses, and could pass as an extra on The Big Bang Theory. Or maybe, she is just bored, because I’m the only customer. I really want to go with she likes me.
“What do you do in Austin, Ray?”
“I’m an entomologist, and a professor of entomology at Texas University,” I said and now when I
tell her what that is, that will be the precise moment Carmela will lose interest in me.
“How interesting,” Carmela said, “But what does an entomologist do?”
“The short answer is, I’m a bug scientist,” I said with a smile, and took another chomp into my burger. “Ewww, really?” Carmela said, “Oh is that why you were interested in the headless rats and the flies attacking the family?”
I nodded yes to answer her question, because I was chewing my food. I also knew that I should keep my mouth shut about why I am really interested in those stories, and that is because I think my experiment has gone amuck. Just then I noticed a man outside the window. He was across the street, under the dim light of a street lamp. I thought that something seemed odd about him.
“Have you ever seen him around before?” I said, pointing to the man outside.
“No, I don’t think so,” Carmela said, “He’s acting weird, right?”
“Yes, he is,” I said, and took another bite of my burger.
A metallic bang from the kitchen startled us. Carmela quickly ran to the kitchen, concerned, I followed her.
6
Nurse Josie Frick had been working triage in the Kilgore Memorial Hospitals emergency room, without a break, since she walked in the door at three o’clock in the afternoon. Her shift started at high alert when a boy came in, who had lost his head, they believed in a car accident. Since then there has been a steady flow of patients coming in to the ER. She had never seen the waiting room packed like this before. People were even waiting outside.
All of the patients have similar complaints. The common and less severe she had seen was the consistent headache and nausea with high fever. The ones with more advanced symptoms included mild tremors. This is how they all come into the Emergency Room, but every patient rapidly deteriorates in a similar way. They exhibit signs of restlessness and seizures. They begin to leak blood from their nose, ears, and mouth.
It is now after midnight and Nurse Frick believes that the city of Kilgore is in the midst of an outbreak situation, only she can not figure out what is causing it, and where all these damn flies were coming from? They seemed to be everywhere.
Kelly, the Nurses Assistant, pushed the wheel-chair for eighty-eight-year-old Sam Dodger into the triage
office. He had come in complaining of headaches and a persistent bloody nose. He didn’t realize he had blood streaming down his neck from his ears.
“Mr. Dodger, this is Nurse Josie,” Kelly said, “She is going to ask you a few questions. He has symptoms like the others Josie.” Then Kelly went back to the front desk of the waiting room.
“God, I hate sick people,” Nurse Josie mumbled to herself, “All these patients are testing my patience.” Then she put on a tired smile to deal with another patient.
“Hello, Mr. Dodger, I’m Nurse Josie. I am going to start by taking your temperature and your blood pressure, ok?”
Mr. Dodger looked around as if he was confused and lost. Then he began to twitch and shake in the wheelchair. With his convulsions he released a high-pitched howl. Nurse Josie stared in disbelief. None of the other patients had done this before.
“Doctor Hertz!” Nurse Josie called into the room next door, “Doctor Hertz, come here quick!” Doctor Hertz charged into the room to see what the commotion was about. Nurse Josie used her right hand to point to Mr. Dodger, and her left hand covered her mouth. She instinctually backed away in fear. Mr. Dodger now sat still in the wheel- chair, except his head kept rocking back and forth.
“What’s that noise?” Doctor Hertz said, “It’s a gnawing sound, and it seems to be coming from this patient.”
Mr. Dodger howled again, his eyes burst open, spraying blood out of them. Mr. Dodger’s head rolled off his shoulders and into his lap, as a swarm of flies came out of it. Nurse Josie screamed in horror as the room filled with splattered blood and flies.
The flies began to attack Nurse Frick and Doctor Hertz. They slapped helplessly at the flies as they were bitten. Nurse Frick shrieked and fell on the side of her desk. Loud siren like sounds came from the waiting room. Kelly opened the door to the triage office. She was combating the flies, and losing.
“Doctor Hertz,” Kelly said pointing to her right arm, “What is this crawling under my skin?”
“I don’t know Kelly, there is something definitely moving under your skin.” Doctor Hertz said, grabbing a scalpel from the cabinet. “I will try to cut it out.”
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