Super Zombies from Outer-Space

by Douglas Browning

  Willis didn’t bother to turn around. He could see her just fine in the window’s reflection. Her eyes were bright red, and blood was spread around the outside of her mouth like barbeque sauce. He made brief eye contact with those horrid eyes, and then looked away.

  “You did this to me, James. You did this because you were a coward. You ran in here and left me outside the door to be ripped apart.”

  “Why won’t you just leave me alone?” He was almost in tears. Willis couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see her face. He didn’t want to see her horrid body. The smell was bad enough, but the sight was worse.

  “You’re a coward piece of shit, Jamie-boy. Some husband you are, leaving your wife to get ripped apart by the fucking dogs! What a great reverend you are! About to help the bad guys kill God’s people.”

  Tears filled the corners of his eyes. He knew she was right. But he couldn’t do anything about it. She would rip him in half and eat his intestines if he tried. The pain would be unbearable – maybe as bad as what his savior had faced. Jesus had died for the world, and Reverend James Willis would go down as a coward piece of shit. The piece of shit that wouldn’t stand up to his dead wife. The piece of shit that left her for death.

  “I’m not going to kill you, Jamie-boy. You don’t need to worry about that.”

  She paced over to his desk and took out his sermon Bible. Thirty or so pages were dog eared or bookmarked. The front of it was black, and the pages had gold lining on the outside. But as she opened it most of the pages were either falling out or wrinkled. Some were even tainted brown. She found a smashed mosquito stuck in Psalms.

  “What are you doing, Elsie?” James turned around and looked at her. He was reminded of how beautiful she had been, even if she was approaching seventy. Her skin had been a little hardened, wrinkles here and there too, but now it was a slimy gray, and blood leaked from the cracks in her skin.

  “Remember the good old days, James? Back when we were young? Back when you first became a reverend?”

  It hurt him to think about it. The days of youth were far behind him, and it had always bothered him to think about it. Death was approaching him, one day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time. Now more than ever.

  “Remember when you could still get it up and you could fuck me?”

  “Please stop,” he whimpered.

  “Do you think you’ll go to heaven? Do you think you’ll go to heaven after what you have done to me? After what you’re about to do to the people downstairs? God fucking hates you.”

  He grabbed his pistol and held it to her head.

  “By the time your brain tells your finger to pull the trigger I will have ripped your eyes out of your fucking sockets and stuffed them up your ass. Put the gun away and quit trying to be a hero.”

  She was right, and he knew it. But if he were to die fighting maybe God would give him a chance. Maybe God would let him into Heaven.

  “He won’t let you in. Either way you’re fucked.”

  He dropped the gun on the floor. There wasn’t anything left he could do other than to try and bargain for his life with this creature that used to be Elsie. When he thought of her beautiful hair and gorgeous eyes, then looked over at the blood covered being that resembled her, all he could do was look to the floor. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to see her ever again.

  “Do I disgust you?” she walked over to him and put an arm around his shoulder.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now go get your gun.”

  He eyed the pistol on the floor and looked up at her questioningly. She was smiling and the breath coming out of her mouth reminded him of the time someone had forgotten to flush the toilet in the men’s room. Somehow it had survived without getting flushed the whole week and stunk to high heavens when it was discovered. He was comparing his wife to a week’s old shit. She had once been an angel.

  “Go get the gun, Jamie-boy. They’ll be coming up into the auditorium soon. They’ve already found out you tried to lock them down there. It’s fine if they come up. Just keep them in the building.”

  “What are you trying to do? What are your people trying to do?”

  “That boy. Something with him. He has a special something inside of him. You’ll see it if you’re still alive.”

  James picked the gun up off the floor and stuffed it back into his robe pocket. For the next moment Elsie was silent. It somewhat disappointed James because the sound of her voice was comforting. It was almost unchanged from her original voice, and he wanted to hear it as much as he possibly could. Seeing her face killed him, but the voice…he had to hear it.

  “Why are you doing this? I can understand if you hate me, but them? What did they do to you, Elsie? What did the people of this town do to deserve this?”

  She grinned at him, showing her black teeth, then said: “I’m on their side now.” She pointed at the ceiling. James looked up stupidly, almost expecting something to come crashing through and ending the life of everyone in that miserable town.

  “You just stop asking questions and focus on the matter at hand here, Jamie-boy. Keep those people in the building. That’s all you have to worry about. Because if they get out I will rip your intestines out, and then my friends outside will hunt them down and kill them in horrific fashion.”

  James looked down to his feet once again. “Very well. I will do as you ask me to, my dear.”

  22

  Lisa pulled off of him when she found that he wasn’t moving and his body had become limp. Before she panicked she checked for a pulse on his neck, but couldn’t feel it. She wasn’t sure if she had her hand in the right spot but it didn’t matter. Russ had stopped breathing.

  The air around her was damp. The dust had faded away and it became increasingly humid. Her breaths sped up, but it felt like she was taking in more water than oxygen. A sudden pressure hit her chest, a feeling which reminded her of when she hit the dirt after jumping out the window back at her house.

  “Help me!” she tried to scream the words, but only mere whispers came out.

  Then there was the smell. The god awful smell of the dead. It surrounded her, then inflated her lungs and consumed her insides. She could feel it on her skin, in her eyes, and on her hair. The scent somehow was alive, and it was devouring her.

  It was there. It could have been the little alien they had seen back on Washington Avenue, or it could have been another member of the Dead Parade. But something was there, and that meant the walking dead would soon know the location of their hideout. The church may as well put out a sign in front, saying Fresh meat for sale. Come and get your fill.

  “Not real,” Lisa muttered, and then closed her eyes, hoping it would change.

  Nothing changed. She still felt like she was suffocating, and the air around her became more humid. She was still in the church basement, in a room with Russ –dead Russ.

  That feeling he gave her was gone. Safety and security for some goddamn reason had radiated from his body, his soul. But now there was nothing but darkness around her. Russ was gone and off in another world. He left her behind.

  She felt an urge. Deep within her bowels. A horrid feeling –worse than she had ever felt before. There was a feeling that she was going to puke it all up, not just the food, but her organs too.

  It was too much. Lisa fell to her knees and tried to breathe steadily, but when she took a breath of air she coughed.

  “You’re gonna blow, honey.”

  Lisa looked up and saw her mother standing there. She looked as if nothing had happened to her. She was wearing her denim short-shorts, her pink tank top, and her little red bandanna to cover her gray hair. Lisa couldn’t answer her. She could feel the bile bubbling up to the back of her mouth.

  Then it came. Vomit sprayed from her mouth like it was water coming from a fire hose, and the force made her fall over sideways. The wall was covered with it, and so was Russ. Yellow vomit dripped from every square inch of that wall, and the couch was c
ompletely soaked.

  But it kept coming. She kept trying to stop but couldn’t. Each second felt like a firecracker exploding inside of her stomach. The yellow suddenly turned to red. Lisa tried to pull herself up to her knees but couldn’t. She was lying on her back, and the blood shooting out of her mouth in thick streams was splattering against the cob web covered ceiling.

  It stopped. Lisa could breathe again, but the blood clung to the ceiling impossibly.

  Her mother stood side by side with her father. His head was bent at an awkward angle, just the same as it had been when he died. Lisa had seen the photos from the accident. Her father hadn’t been wearing a seat belt and his head and been driven into the ceiling, snapping his neck.

  “What do you want?” she whimpered.

  “Surprised you didn’t give all of yourself to him upfront,” he muttered. “I guess you’re not that much of a whore. Personally, I thought you would have lasted until you were at least 20. But I guess if you want to fuck him that’s your choice.”

  “My dad would never have said that to me. None of this is real. Russ is still alive. He’s on the couch with me and probably knows I’ve gone into hallucination. I’ll wake up.”

  “It doesn’t matter if you think it’s real, honey,” Mrs. Kelly took a step toward her. She was smiling like she had just found a good deal on a car or something. “You look good. I like the tight jeans. It really shows off your ass. I was kind of hoping that you would make Russ-boy work for it a bit more, but I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Don’t talk like that to your mother.” Ray grabbed the black hair on his head and used it to pull his very own neck up straight. Then he eyed her. Lisa had the feeling that he was searching her for something. Searching her body, like he could see through her clothes.

  Why can’t I wake up? Lisa wondered to herself. She didn’t want to let them know that she was actually starting to get afraid. How long did these visions usually last?

  The blood from the ceiling suddenly fell. All at once, like someone had just dumped a giant sized bucket of blood from above. It hit Lisa with full force. Her hair, her skin, and her clothes were all sopping wet with blood.

  Her parents had disappeared, but Russ’s dead body was still on the sofa, covered with the mixture of blood and vomit.

  “Wake me up. Just wake me up!” She grabbed him by the shirt and shook him. But he didn’t move, and his skin felt horribly cold.

  As did hers. A short burst of cold air shot through the room. It didn’t seem to have come from anywhere. There were no windows, and the door was closed.

  She shook him harder.

  “Wake me up, goddamnit!” As she said this her body was trembling not only from the cold but from the fear of what would happen next.

  None of it was real though. None of it was real. There wasn’t a thing to worry about. It was just like a bad dream and soon she would be awake, next to Russ in one of the dustiest rooms she had ever been in for the first eighteen year period of her life. Then they would get out and escape the flesh eating monsters and run to Wichita and live happily ever after. The End.

  But no. Russ didn’t move. Maybe it wasn’t a dream. Maybe Russ was really dead, and maybe the image of her parents and the vomiting was the only illusion. But how could he have died? She had been kissing him, not too deeply, but enough for her to desire more. There was no possible way he could have died from that.

  And what about the others? Were they dead? Were the Welch’s dead? What about Evan? Nothing could come close to Lt. Brown without getting shot in the face. But Russ was the key. She didn’t know why, but she felt it. She had felt it since she first met up with him. An aura or something. It was an odd feeling, but when he was near her anxiety seemed to calm.

  Lisa eyed the door. She wanted to go out there, to answer all of these questions. But what if they were all monsters? One of them could have caused the hallucination. One of them could have–

  “Lisa!”

  * * * * *

  When she opened her eyes everything was normal again. Russ had hold of her shirt and was shaking her, not even aware that her eyes had opened. The dust fluttering around the room was the only thing her nose could sense. And the smell of the dead had gone away, as had the cold. None of it had ever existed.

  Russ stopped after a few more shakes when he noticed that her eyes were open. Her expression suggested that she had just stared Death directly in his flaming red eyes and had fallen to the ground, and maybe she had. But seeing her eyes open again was relieving.

  Her arms shot out and wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him close again.

  Safety.

  “They know we’re here,” she whispered.

  “I guess so. We should probably go tell Evan and get the hell out of here.”

  “Where are we going to go? Those things are all over the north side of town. We won’t be able to reach the highway.”

  Russ didn’t answer her because he knew that she was right. There was nowhere else to go, but they couldn’t just keep hiding out. They had to get out of the town somehow. If they stayed in the church too much longer those tough security doors would be put to the extreme test. He doubted that they would pass. If one of those things could overturn a military vehicle by itself, a mass group of them could easily rip down a door.

  “We’ll make it out,” was the only thing Russ could think of saying. Both of them knew that there wasn’t much confidence behind that statement. He tried not to let it come through, but he knew it had.

  “Where the fuck is the military?” She slammed a fist down on his back. Russ grunted but didn’t say anything. “They should be over here blowing the crap out of them. They’ll invade countries for no damn reason, but they won’t even protect their goddamn citizens.”

  “I think they want to keep this low key. Bombs would get attention real quick.”

  “Do you know how many truckers stop off in this town every day? Putting a big fence around the city is going to get some attention. I’m sure people have tried to call the town and got nothing. It wouldn’t surprise me if there were news vans lining the exit.”

  Russ couldn’t think of anything to say to this. She was right. There was no way this was a secret. Maybe the military hadn’t come because this was happening all over the country. Maybe everyone was dead. Maybe the whole world. Maybe his father.

  The thought of his dad being a monstrous creature made him push her away and stand up. He couldn’t bear the thought of having lost both of his parents. He didn’t know how Lisa did, but he couldn’t.

  “You’re right,” he said. That was it. It was all he could manage to say before a single tear fell from the side of his eye. His promise wouldn’t hold up to her. There wasn’t a chance in hell they could make it to the highway.

  Despite the nervous feeling going through her, she still felt it. Russ was still there. The military wasn’t, but Russ was. He would save them. Somehow…

  Then came a knock on the door. Donahue opened it and peeked in around the corner. “We’re getting out of here.”

  23

  Evan had never seen so much blood before. Every so often he could see a blade of dying grass floating in the red. Grass wasn’t the only thing dead in the field, though. There were bodies, too many to count. Hundreds of thousands covered the crimson landscape. The plain went on forever, and if it weren’t for the mist, he might have been able to see the edge.

  But the mist wasn’t normal. It was red. And it had the horrid copper taste that a child experiences every time they rip a baby tooth from its resting place. Small beads of it collected on his forehead, one by one as if they were living creatures vying to take over his face.

  The sky above him was a dull gray, and the smell was the worst thing imaginable. He had uncovered some nasty mass graves in other countries. The smell reminded him of that, only magnified. However there were no flies this time. Just crows, squawking at each other while fighti
ng for the remainder of an eye ball dangling out of a skull.

  None of it was real. Evan knew that, but he couldn’t figure out how to get out of it. At the same time it felt real, though. He could taste, feel, smell and see everything around him.

  Taking deep breaths, he dropped to one knee and placed a hand over his stomach. Death only had this effect on him the first few times he experienced it, and then it didn’t bother him. Seeing someone get shot in the head was as normal as Bob Barker asking for people to chop off their dog’s pride. He had seen women with their breasts cut off after they’ve been raped. He had seen dozens of bodies hanging from a large tree. He had seen tortured children staring up at him lifeless and buggeyed.

  But the field of a million bodies was too much. When he threw up, most of it splattered on the severed leg beneath him before mixing in with the blood. He gulped for air, but it wasn’t fresh, and it didn’t help. Heaves over took him, but nothing was coming out. His abdominals tightened to the point that he thought they were going to tear. Everything around him was whirling until he heard the scream.

  It came from the distance. Someone was still alive in The Field of the Dead.

  “Who’s there? Keep screaming!”

  “Help me, Evan!”

  “Lindsay?”

  “Evan! I can’t breathe!”

  Somewhere in the pile ahead, the woman who was responsible for the better half of his last eight years was buried. She had kept him going after seeing Death. Each time he had to deal with the ugly bastard she had been waiting for him at home with a beautiful smile. Now she was in the middle of Death’s playground.

  He tried to jog, but found it difficult. Limbs, torsos, and skulls made it impossible to move quickly. Her screams continued though, and as long as she kept shouting he would be able to reach her. Then all would be well. He would wake up in his bed next to her, then reach over and give her a stinky morning breath kiss. Then he would resign, no questions asked. The nightmare would be over and he could find a normal job, and a normal life. Death wouldn’t force its hideous head into his life again until it was his time.