Why?
Not sure.
I just did.
Man...how do they do it? I guess when you really want to kill yourself, your mind just goes blank and you just do it. All hope is lost. Bye, Cruel World.
The following days after that were spent running down the streets, just screaming at the top of my lungs.
“Aaaaaaarrrrrghhhhhhh!”
I sounded like a sea lion. Not too clear why I did it. Maybe I was just releasing some steam. Maybe I was bored. Maybe, when you're the last man on Hawaii, you just end up doing questionable bull crap. I kept seeing more and more people – on the streets, on the beach, in the woods, on rooftops – giving themselves to the ghosts, and each time, the ghosts would take their souls up to the ghost portal. And that wasn't it. As the nights crawled by, I kept getting this...sense...this tug in my stomach...that something bad was coming – like the whole island – maybe even the whole world – was clearing out. Something bad was coming. What was I to do? I couldn't get off Oahu. I could take a boat; maybe learn to drive it. Wouldn't hurt to try. So that's what I did. I went over to the docks, in Ala Moana, and climbed onto a rich man's yacht.
No keys.
Of course.
So then I start looking for a rowboat, but who has a friggin' rowboat in this day and age? As I walked around, thinking about how to off the island, I thought I saw Shells down in the distance...down some street. The sun was in my eyes – yes – playing tricks on me! Strange vision. It looked like she was with that prick Slovoth.
Strange, odd hallucination....
Morning.
I cleaned my condo – washed some dishes, scrubbed a few doorknobs – and went outside in search of food, something other than Spam. Right outside the Neal Blaisdell Concert Hall, a dead man sat on the bus stop. Not a zombie. Just a dead guy. I touched his shoulder with my finger and pushed. The body fell over on its side. He seemed fresh. I moved on....
I walked down to Straub Hospital, walked by an ambulance with its back doors open and swinging in the breeze. I looked in for some reason. I didn't know what I expected to see. Maybe dead people, I don't know. The hospital doors still worked: They felt me walking close and slid open. I went into the kitchen, or mess hall, or wherever doctors ate, opened the refrigerator and found some food: Some tuna and mayonnaise. I mixed them in a bowl and ate, then I went back out under the boiling sun and defrosted a frozen can of corn.
It was splendid. Really great stuff, right there. And then that old, familiar feeling came over me. It would happen sometimes – just out of nowhere: I'd get the Fear.
Like I said, it would just happen. My body would say, “You might wanna get the heck out of here, Boss. Something's wrong with this picture. Something's coming.”
So I listened and headed back home, eating that corn.
At the bus stop, I noticed something queer.
That fresh, dead guy was gone.
Maybe he turned into a zombie and up and left?
Maybe.
But, then again, maybe not.
I hadn't seen a zombie in a looong time – not since that ghost portal arrived.
Again...the Fear.
I dropped my can of corn and spun around. Felt like eyes were on me, examining me.
“Who's there!” I yelled.
Wind. Hissing sun.
I looked at the scene, squinting and looking some more.
As I was walking back home, I saw another woman surrounded by ghosts. She was on the roof of a car, jumping up and down, reaching up to one of them ghosts. It was an older ghost – male. The woman kept saying, “Johnny! You've come back for me! Take me with you! I've missed you!” The old ghost – Johnny – laughed like a deranged monkey and flew through her chest, dragging out her soul, flying her up into the sky. I think I saw them bastards kissing – french kissing.
Her body dropped dead.
Just then...an old, red truck done pulled up, and a big man wearing one of them black dominatrix masks come walking out. It went over his head, and his hair stuck out at the back where the zipper ended. He looked like something out of a Mad Max movie. This guy waved to the truck, and a woman, also wearing the mask (a red one), come jumping out the back bed. They both walked over to the woman's body and picked her up by the wrists and ankles and tossed her into the back of the truck. I was hiding behind a bus stop the whole time. As they drove away, I saw that the back of the truck was filled with bodies...and that girl was having a little snack, munching on a severed hand.
Cannibals, I thought. Sweet sassy molassy.
A-zigging and a-zagging behind trees and buildings and derelict automobiles, I was able to follow the truck a little. These cannibals, they lived in an abandoned, local restaurant that specialized in Zimbabwe hamburgers, called Mouth Palace. I hid behind a car and watched as they pulled up to the front and dragged out bodies.
Then they walked into their home/restaurant and locked the doors. They had painted the windows black. Why? I didn't know. Not like anyone was snooping around. Well, I guess 'cept for me.
I walked to the door and brought my hands up against the window and tried to peek inside, and then I heard something.
Screaming.
But not just normal screaming.
Bloody screaming.
Sounds of murder.
Something heavy banged up against the windows. Other people were in there, trying to get out – all yelling and fighting and begging and calling out for Jesus. I looked around and found a big ol' rock, so I's picked it up, but before I threw it, I looked up to the clouds.
If I do this, will you take me? I thought, really trying to shoot my mental words into the sky. Will you guys save me? Huh?
No answer (although the sun did appear from behind a cloud and blinded me a little).
Good enough, I thought...and threw the rock at the door.
The thing shattered. A naked old woman and a naked man ran out, both limping, both shielding their eyes from the loud sun. That cannibal man ran out after them, wielding the biggest butcher's knife I ever did done see. I reached behind me and took out one of my small knives and jumped on his back and slit his throat. His blood shot out in glittering streams and went SPLAT on the ground like thick rain – splat, splat, splat! He fell to his knees, holding his neck. He spun on his knees to see the jerk that did him in, and when he saw me, he reached out and curled his fingers...then fell on his face.
His girlfriend screamed and ran out to get me. She was waving a samurai sword around in the air, and something told me she had no idea how to use it right. She took a sloppy swing down at me, and I stepped to the side real easy-like. The blade dug into the concrete, setting off a spark. She tried to yank the sword free, but it wouldn't give.
I kicked her in the face, and she back flipped through the air, her mask flying off. She landed hard on her head, and she moved around in pain, gripping her stomach. She was young, probably just a teenager. The girl snarled at me, acting like some kind of crazed, uncivilized animal. I pulled out the sword and held it high above my head. A part of me didn't want to kill a living person; but another part of me said, Not human. She deserves to die. All monsters deserve to die. Cannibals. Not human. Do it. Kill her. The world will be a safer place. You'll sleep better at night.
“Just a monster,” I said, and chopped her head off in three tries. The girl made a pathetic sound right before I did her in. It was something like a yelp.
Jesus. She sounded human enough.
I stepped back and looked up at the sky.
No ghosts came.
Not one.
Back home, as a mad storm kicked at the windows, I had a terrible dream.
I'm back there at that restaurant, in the freezing rain, at night, and I'm killing those two cannibals all over again. I take off the dead man's mask, and it's...Slovoth, still missing his eye. I walk over to the girl's severed head and, after a whole minute thinking about it first, I take off her mask, and what I see knocks the strength from my knees.
It's Shells.
I woke up screaming and crying.
I put my clothes on and ran out and ran, ran, ran back to that restaurant, my heart pounding in my ears. I ran through that stinging rain that felt like needles on my face, through all that thunder and lightning.
When I got to Mouth Palace, the bodies were still there. Dogs were eating parts of the male cannibal. I yelled at them, and those dogs ran off complaining with his fingers in their mouths. I leaned over his body, kicked over his heavy bulk, and worked at taking his mask off.
It was Slovoth.
Odd reaction: I fell on him and started attacking that dead man, elbowing his face, screaming at him, strangling him. After minutes of that BS, I stood up. I was lost for a second.
Where am I? What am I doing here? Dear God, what's happening?
It was time to check on the girl I beheaded.
And I didn't wanna do it. I didn't want to know. My body walked there, but my brain was screaming, begging not to do it. The girl's body was still there. The rain picked up, and it was like she was in a river that threatened to carry her away. I could see her pruned fingers.
But I didn't have to unmask her. I didn't have to check – to see who it really was.
The head was gone....
I searched around, looking under cars, looked all over that restaurant....What happened to it? The question nagged at me, bothered me like a pimple on my brain. What happened it it? Where is it? I've looked everywhere. This went on for days....I once found a gaggle of wild cats munching on a big-something, but it turned out to be just a duck. I saw that head everywhere I went. I saw that head covered in that evil-looking, red mask in cars, staring out at me. I saw it up in trees, behind store windows, even looking up at me from down them gutters.
Each day, I was finding more and more cannibals. They'd be driving around in trucks, looking for bodies to eat – alive, dead, human, animal, didn't matter. One night, as I was looking for that head, I found myself at a park, and I saw a large group of cannibals dancing around a fire. They all wore those leather, black and red masks. They were cooking and eating people...people who also wore those masks.
I ran home that night, confused.
When I woke up the next morning, I went looking for the head again, in the city. I walked by a van, and it looked just like the one that gangster Pope rode around in. The thing moved – just a little, but enough for me to open the door and take a look inside. Nothing in there. Just my imagination.
Someone ran around in a nearby store.
At first, I thought I was just seeing things again, but then, on closer inspection, I saw that there really was someone in there: A woman that seemed to be searching for something. I ran to the window and tapped on the glass, praying that she was no cannibal.
This is it!
A real woman....Someone I can talk to. Someone I can love. She'll be all mine. We'll talk for hours. It's been so long. Thank you, God. Thank you for sending me this gift. I get it now. This was all a test! You wanted to see if I was worthy. Not everyone deserves a girlfriend. You must prove yourself. Thank you for this gift. She is beautiful. She won't judge me. She won't leave me....I'll never be alone again. Thank you. I knew this was all for something. I knew living through this hell was for something. She's beautiful....She's beautiful....I'll love her forever. With her, I am complete. I feel worthy....I can finally live. I am complete.
She shot me a look and ran and jumped through – THROUGH – the store window. Came at me with her long nails aimed at my face. I gave her a big punch to her breasts, then we fought – wrestled around, bit each other, slapped each other around for a minute.
I picked up a long thing of glass, and cut into her belly....
The End
Raymund Hensley is the author of Filipino Vampire, Get Kilt: A Zombie Pill, and Weredolphin. He lives in Honolulu, Hawaii.
https://raymundhensley.blogspot.com/
https://twitter.com/RaymundHensley
https://www.facebook.com/BossHospital
ALSO BY
Raymund Hensley
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Hunters young & old have now relied on Raym C. Hensley’s humorous hunting guide for vital information, ranging from killing a zombie, bathing a zombie, to eating a zombie when necessary. Easy to understand, friendly and inspiring, The Zombie Hunter’s Bible will empower you with all the knowledge you’ll need toward capturing – and understanding – the walking dead.
“The attention to detail is mind-boggling!”
-Staci Wilson, About.com
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Yes, there are zombies, even in Hawaii. A foolish writer learns this the hard way from a strange (and beautiful) woman who claims to be a hunter of the living dead.
Filipino Vampire
A popular monster from the Philippines, known as an aswang, terrorizes the island of Oahu. The Filipino vampire leaves its legs behind and flies around rooftops, searching for children to steal and eat. Trapped in the aswang's trailer home, it's up to one little girl to put a stop to the beast's reign of panic.
“A unique tale by a fresh voice in horror.”
-Tracey Fleming, The Written Universe
Ghost City Page 9
