3 Supernatural Thrillers

by Jason Brant

  Another gunshot barked from the back of the building.

  Rob pivoted around in a slow motion, as if he was moving through mud. Karen couldn't understand why he didn't attack the helpless people against the wall instead of going after the two biggest men in the room.

  Was it some kind of memory of his brother driving him in that direction? Was it the sounds of the fight attracting him?

  "Help him," she said, looking from Randy to Anthony. "John is out of his mind!"

  "I will not fight the will of God," Randy said. He reclaimed his chair and stared at the floor, refusing to make eye contact with Karen.

  Anthony gave Karen a sad, hopeless look before averting his gaze.

  Rob's walking corpse was in the middle of the room, blocking Karen's path to either sword. Her eyes frantically swept the room, trying to find the table leg she'd used earlier. She finally spotted it sitting on the floor a few feet from where John and Ellis were trading fisticuffs.

  "Rob! Over here!" She jumped up in the air and waved her arms, trying to get his attention.

  His course didn't change. Only a few steps stood between Ellis, John and the cannibal.

  She eased her way forward, wary of getting too close. "Robert! Turn around, damn you!"

  No response outside of the expected moans. He was on top of them now and leaned down to take a bite from Ellis' back.

  Karen surged forward, throwing her small mass against Rob's knees. His legs buckled and he toppled over her, landing on his side. His large legs draped across her body, pinning her to the floor.

  She pushed against his boots, trying to lift his massive lower body away, but didn't have the strength.

  Rob sat up and grabbed her wrist, preventing her from sliding away. As he tried to turn toward her, his legs tumbled away, giving her room to stand.

  Leaning back at a steep incline, she tried to pull her trapped arm from his grasp. He was still clambering around on the floor, trying to get to his feet.

  Unable to shake his grip, she turned and stretched to her full length, trying to reach the saber sitting atop the bar. The sword was two feet beyond her reach, teasing her.

  Jerking her arm, stretching her body, and screaming in fear, Karen dragged Rob toward the bar, fighting like a caged animal. Her fingers were inches from the sword when her progress halted.

  Rob had regained his footing and was reeling in her arm while ducking his head to feast on her hand.

  From the corner of her eye she spotted Lauren, standing on the bottom stair. Her head wobbled from side to side, like grass in a high wind. She whipped her hand from side to side, trying to wrench it away from Rob's eager mouth.

  Ellis had gained a dominant position against John, using his heavy mass to pin him to the floor.

  Lauren's head bobbed forward, her chin resting against her chest at an unnatural angle. She bent down and lowered her swaying head at Ellis.

  "Lauren, no!"

  If she heard Karen's plea she didn't acknowledge it, and bit through Ellis' shirt and into his wide back. Blood oozed from the sides of her mouth as she clamped down.

  Ellis roared in pain. He tried to stand up, but his arms were tangled with John's, who either didn't understand the situation or was too far gone to care.

  Lauren gnawed at his back, tearing chunks away as he struggled helplessly under her.

  "Ellis!" Karen cried.

  Both of Rob's hands now held her forearm, immobilizing her limb.

  She felt his balmy breath against her skin as he opened his mouth to take a bite. A boom echoed through the room and the side of his head exploded, spraying its contents across the bar and her dress. She felt drops of blood splatter over her cheek and into her hair.

  Another crack and Lauren's body fell forward, slumping over Ellis' back. Grey matter drained from a hole where her temple had been.

  Karen froze in shock, staring down at the bodies laying across the floor. She wiped at her face, staring at the red smears in her palm. Creaks came from her neck as she turned her head and looked toward the stairs.

  At the top of the steps stood a man who looked like he had just crawled from a nightmare. He wore all black and was armed from head to toe, with gun and ammo belts hanging from every nook and cranny.

  He held a pistol in his right hand with smoke trailing from the barrel.

  All fighting, screaming, and crying ceased as everyone watched the man in black descend the stairs.

  Chapter 14

  After stepping through the window, he hadn't gone two steps into the hallway when he heard the fight downstairs. Knowing better than to run headlong into danger, he crept down the hall, using more matches to light the way.

  As he rounded the corner, he had enough light to see a banister leading to the lower floor. Stopping at the top of the stairs, he studied the area below.

  He spotted two moaners from his vantage point; one eating a large man's back, and another about to snack on a woman's arm. Not wanting to blast everyone in the area with pellets, he switched the shotgun to his left hand and drew his pistol.

  The man with teeth buried in him was already a dead man, he just didn't know it yet, so McCall aimed for the moaner holding the woman. Her skin appeared to be intact, so there was a chance to save her.

  Cocking the hammer back with his thumb, he put a bullet through the moaner's forehead, emptying its skull on the floor. He quickly changed targets and gunned down the woman.

  Silence filled the saloon. Everyone stared at him as if he were an apparition. The metallic smell of gunpowder burned his nostrils as he glared back at them. McCall holstered the pistol and gripped the double barrel with both hands, aiming in the general direction of the people by the bar.

  Descending the steps, he scanned the room, looking for more moaners. At the bottom of the stairs, two men remained in fighting positions, but were now in a temporary truce as they watched him approach.

  "Get up," he said.

  Neither moved.

  "I won't ask again."

  The man on the bottom released his grip from the massive, bleeding opponent on top of him. The man with chunks missing from his back strained against the dead woman lying on him as he straightened out.

  Her body slid to the floor and he stood up, eyeing McCall cautiously. The other fighter stayed low to the floor and slithered backward to the other side of the room. Mad Dog didn't like the way his eyes twitched.

  "I guess we owe you our thanks," the heavy set man said. "I'm Ellis. This is my saloon."

  McCall walked around him, keeping the shotgun aimed in his general direction, and sat at the bar. A woman stood close, with a sword a few feet from her.

  "Both of you move over there with your friends." He motioned to the other end of the room with the barrel of his gun.

  For a moment it looked like the blood covered woman was going to make a move for the sword. She looked directly into McCall's eyes, examining them, and then seemed to think better of it.

  Taking in everyone against the far wall, he began to regret his decision to come here. Everyone in this room looked drunk, crazy, or wounded. Except maybe the woman who thought about going for the sword – he didn't know what to make of her yet.

  "You're Mad Dog McCall," she said. "I thought you'd be younger."

  "I'll do the talking. Who's been bit?"

  "Just me," Ellis said, wincing at the pain in his back.

  "Move against the wall by the windows," McCall said.

  The man did as he was told and sat in a chair, being careful not to rest against the back.

  "Ellis, your time is short," McCall said.

  A solemn nod told Mad Dog that Ellis already knew his fate was sealed.

  "Now what the hell is going on in this shit town?"

  "It's the end of days. God is striking down the unworthy," the drunk man said. He took another swig from a dark colored bottle.

  McCall never had much use for religion, but that didn't mean he wasn't a God fearing man. "What are you talking about?"<
br />
  "Don't listen to him. He's a fool and a liar," the strong willed woman said.

  "What's your name?" McCall asked her.

  "Karen. How did you escape from your cell? Did you kill Sheriff Stanley? What happened to Aaron?"

  "I said I'll do the−"

  "Did you blow up the jailhouse?"

  McCall had never met a woman quite like this before. Typically they shied away from him, weary of his false reputation.

  "Yes, I did. And no, I didn't kill the deputy or sheriff. At least, not the first time."

  "Don't fight the will of God. His ways will always remain a mystery to us," the drunk said, waving his arms through the air like he was giving a sermon.

  Hopping from his stool, McCall walked over to the dead man he'd shot down minutes before.

  "This is the work of God? Mindless corpses stumbling around, trying to eat those of us who are still alive? If that's God's work, then you can keep Him."

  "Blasphemer!"

  "He's been going on about this for quite awhile now," Karen said. "Randy is the doctor and reverend of the town, as you can probably tell."

  "Shut your mouth, whore. He speaks the word of God!" the crazy man said.

  "I think he's right, Karen. What else explains what's going on?" asked a young woman in the corner. She was curled into a ball, as if that would somehow protect her.

  "Barbara, no! You can't believe this! Just a few hours ago you thought he was an idiot," Karen said. "Even if it is God, you can't think this asshole is His messenger."

  "And you'll refer to me as Doctor or Reverend," Randy said.

  "I only use titles on those who are to be respected."

  McCall wished he had taken his chances in the desert. At least out there he wouldn't have to deal with the bickering. Ignoring them, he walked to the front door and inspected the barrier they'd constructed.

  The nerve-racking moans and shuffles coming from the other side of the table added to the increasingly tense atmosphere. Shooting his guns around and inside of the building had attracted a massive amount of them. Now they pressed against the walls, windows, and door, slowly weakening them until they would eventually give way.

  The nails were already pulling free.

  "These aren't going to hold much longer," he said.

  "What are we going to do?" Barbara asked.

  "Accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. God will not harm his faithful."

  "When they come piling in here, you hold up your Bible and I'll hold up my guns. We'll see who lasts longer," McCall said.

  "You killed my brother," the crazy man said. "And now you're mocking a servant of God." He climbed to his feet and took an aggressive stance in front of McCall.

  Mad Dog reclaimed his seat by the bar and looked at his would-be attacker without a hint of concern on his face.

  "Which one is your brother? The one whose brains are all over the place?"

  Growling in rage, John took a step forward.

  "John, don't!" Karen said.

  "John? Listen to the woman. After what I've gone through today, killing you isn't going to be a concern to me." He leveled the shotgun at John's chest. "Faith or no, you ain't bulletproof."

  Karen stepped forward, temporarily defusing the situation. "I think it's some kind of disease. Maybe a form of rabies."

  "Can rabies raise the dead?" McCall asked. He'd seen plenty of rabid dogs in his day, but none that could live through disembowelment.

  "I didn't say it was rabies exactly. Some of the symptoms are similar though."

  "Only God−"

  "Yeah, we get it; God is trying to kill all of us. Shut the hell up already," McCall said. He expected the reverend to recommend human sacrifice soon.

  The table covering the door partially dislodged, the nails popping out a full inch.

  "Shit!" Karen said, running to McCall's side of the room.

  He didn't try to keep her away. Jumping off the stool, he walked backward to the stairs.

  "You seem to be the only one in here that has her head on straight," he said, never taking his eyes from the door. "You know how to shoot?"

  "Of course. But Ellis isn't a part of whatever they're becoming over there," she said, pointing to the saloon owner.

  "He's bit. It's only a matter of time before he turns against us."

  "He can help us until then!"

  McCall considered the situation for a moment. "Fine, but he's on you. Fall behind and you're on your own."

  Randy pointed at Ellis. "Stay with us and be saved. The Lord shall protect us."

  Ellis lifted his hefty frame from the chair and looked back at the doctor. "I believe he is. He sent us an outlaw with a bunch of guns." Then he joined Karen and McCall by the stairs.

  Mad Dog tossed him the shotgun, which he caught with his right hand before checking it for shells.

  "You'll need this too," McCall said. He took off one of the belts of ammo around his body and handed it to Ellis.

  "Barbara, come with us, it's our only chance!" Karen said, pleading.

  In the corner, Barbara looked over her folded arms from Karen to Randy. "God will protect me."

  "Be rational. He's leading you to your death," Karen said. She started across the room, presumably to drag her along.

  The top of the table cracked, revealing a partial set of decayed teeth. Most of them were missing.

  Karen backpedaled to the stairs, still pleading with Barbara.

  "And He will damn you for turning your back on his servant!" Randy said. He was beyond hysterical.

  "What's in those barrels? Whiskey?" McCall asked, eying three kegs beside the stairs.

  "Two of them are rotgut, but that one is pure whiskey," Ellis said, pointing to the one in front.

  McCall pulled his tomahawk free and punctured several holes near the bottom of the barrel, spilling its contents across the floor.

  "What are you doing?" Ellis asked.

  "Taking out as many of these bastards as we can." Setting fire had helped him escape the jailhouse and he hoped it would do the same here.

  The left side of the table popped free of the door frame, exposing an elderly man trying to squeeze through the small opening. He was shirtless and most of the right side of his chest had been chewed away.

  Only the pile of chairs and other objects kept the door blocked. But that wouldn't last long.

  "Barbara, please!" Karen yelled.

  Then the horde broke through. They flooded the room like water from a broken dam. Dozens shambled toward the group of fools who thought they would be guarded from harm.

  "We are believers. You may not touch us!" Randy said.

  Just before they set upon him, McCall saw his smile waver as he realized his folly. His piercing screams attracted more moaners, crowding the floor of the saloon in seconds.

  "No! Karen! Karen!" Barbara's shrieks were brief, but tore at McCall's conscience as he heard her being eaten alive.

  Several of the walking corpses moved toward the stairs, outstretched arms in their ever present grabbing motion. McCall shoved Karen and Ellis, getting them moving up the steps.

  With his axe, he smashed the lantern that hung on the wall above the whiskey, sending balls of liquid fire in every direction. Spinning on his heels, he swung the burning tomahawk at the nearest moaner.

  Flames trailed behind as it sunk into the creature's temple, setting its hair ablaze.

  The axe ripped from his hands as the body collapsed to the floor. Wanting to pull it free, McCall took a step forward before three more men trampled over the body and through the pools of fire as they closed in on him. Their tattered clothing went up like kindling as they tripped over the woman McCall shot, temporarily blocking others from following.

  Angry at losing the axe, McCall turned and took the stairs two a time.

  Randy's screams finally stopped as he cleared the top where Ellis and Karen stood, waiting for him. Karen wept openly at the loss of her friends.

  "Now what?" she asked,
choking back sobs.

  "I have no idea," McCall said.

  "Are you telling me your entire plan was to go upstairs?"

  "I wasn't expecting the moaners to break the door down as soon as I got here."

  "And you just set the building on fire."

  "Whatever you're going to do, you better make it fast. I'm not feeling so good," Ellis said.

  Chapter 15

  Karen looked at Ellis through watery eyes, trying to keep her emotions in check.

  "Is there an attic?" McCall asked. He was watching the burning men stumble around on the stairs.

  "No," Ellis said.

  "What would we do in an attic? Wait until we burned to death?" Karen asked. She had no idea how he'd stayed on the run from the law with decision making like this.

  "I came in through a window down the hall. I didn't expect to leave the same way, but I don't see much of a choice."

  With that, McCall walked into the darkness of the hallway and disappeared.

  "Ok, what do we do after we climb out a window? No wonder you're a criminal; you’re an idiot," Karen said, calling after him. She couldn't believe that she was following an incompetent outlaw.

  "Could be, but he's still alive and he has guns. Gold ain't worth as much as these guns right about now," Ellis said. He followed McCall down the hall.

  "Damn," Karen said to herself.

  Moments later she was crawling through the window and looking at thirty mangled people, all wanting to tear her apart.

  Ellis stood to her left, swaying slightly on his feet. She could see the transformation in him already. Even his smell had changed; it was similar to soured milk.

  A train whistle pierced through the night, catching all of them off guard. Karen figured it was still miles away, but would cover that distance in a matter of minutes.

  McCall was on the other side of her, loading two bullets into one of his pistols.

  "That train stop in Gehenna?" he asked.

  "No, that's a cargo train. Only a handful of compartments for people and they're usually for big wigs heading to the mines out west," Ellis said.

  "Maybe they'll slow down when they see the entire town is burning down," Karen said. "When they see the fires, they might even stop and let us on."