by Mark Tufo
For seven days and seven nights Severed Hand alternated between performing burial rituals, burying the dead of the tribe, and hunting for one particular type of gem stone. He only stopped long enough to gather more Hawthorn and Rowan and to take small drinks of water. The demon did not return. On the morning of the eighth day, Chief Running Bear and his braves returned triumphantly with five bison, confident in the fact that his people would make it through the winter, warm and fat.
The sight of the smoke from many funeral cairns at first stopped his advance and then made him speed up. His horse came to skidding stop at the hunched over body of Severed Hand who had just finished placing the last rock on the old Chief’s cairn.
“What has happened here?” Chief Running Bear asked alighting from his horse, wildly looking around for his wife and his children, in fact, anyone.
“They are dead,” Severed Hand said standing up, his hands nearly scraped clean of skin from his burial efforts.
“Who did this?” Running Bear asked, tears streaming down his face as he sought an enemy to lash out against.
“It is not a ‘who.’” Severed Hand said. “And your spears and bows would do nothing against it. Mourn, Running Bear, then come and sit with me. I have a way in which we can strike out against the demon that destroyed our people.”
Running Bear barely acknowledged the words of his Medicine Man, so lost was he in the depths of his loss, but still he nodded. Severed Hand rubbed a small amount of his mixture onto every warrior’s head and clothes as they fell where they were, cries of despair rising as one lone sad song across the now accursed ground.
For three days the remaining members of the tribe grieved for their lost ones. On the night of the third, Chief Running Bear entered into Severed Hand’s teepee. He was barely able to see the Medicine Man in the gloom, but he could see that he was beginning to shrivel away since he had not emerged to eat or drink in that whole time. The Chief sat across from Severed Hand who was only here in the physical sense, his spirit was walking the planes. The entire night the Chief merely sat and watched as the Shaman from time to time would shout out incoherent mutterings of warning and surprise.
“Hello, Running Bear,” Severed Hand said exhaustedly as the sun arose, light spilling through the top of the teepee’s smoke hole.
“Hello,” Running Bear returned the greeting, a determined look set on his face. “Can this demon be destroyed?” he asked.
“My spirit guides have shown me a way, but I will need the tribe’s help to achieve this. Even then I am not sure if we will be strong enough.”
“You will have all the help you ask for,” Running Bear said. “And if anger can be your source of energy, than you will have all you will need.”
Severed Hand gave the Chief a list of items he would need for that night’s spirit walk.
“Come old friend,” the Chief said to Severed Hand. “You have not drank or eaten in three days’ time. Let me get you something while we walk among the trees.”
“I would welcome some water, Running Bear, but I fear I will never walk in the light of day again. What I do the spirits have told me requires a high price.”
Running Bear nodded once, stood up and went to get his Shaman some water.
That night Running Bear was instructed by Severed Hand to bring ten of his strongest warriors into his teepee. The Chief did as he was told. They sat in a circle around the spiritual leader of the tribe. Kills Coyote handed over the peyote buttons in a ceremonial bowl. Running Bear watched in concern as Severed Hand ate five of the magic seeds. He had never seen him take more than two. After a few minutes of chanting, Severed Hand became violently ill, heaving up his spirit as an offering to the spirits. Kills Coyote took away the proffered bile in a wooden bowl.
Severed Hand began to rock back and forth. The eleven Lakotas around him joined hands, their chants joining his. Higher and higher his spirit rose, further than it had ever gone before. His spirit guide, the antlered Hawk, warned him that if he traveled too far he would not be able to find his way home and still Severed Hand soared. He passed those who did not know they were yet gone. Some watched as he went by, but most were too wrapped up in their own events to even notice. Up to the edge of the Spirits’ Home he went, to Purgatory, the location of lost souls. Tears rained down from these tortured individuals, they had been cursed in one form or another. Some bargained their eternity away for a bit of fame and fortune that was gone in the blink of an eye from this vantage point. Most had committed mortal sins and were banished from any form of a spiritual nirvana. A select few had had their souls stripped from them, some willingly, most not.
“I seek the one named Eliza!” Severed Hand cried among the lonely souls surrounded on all sides by their brethren, but they no more acknowledged each other than leaves on a tree. “I believe that I have something of yours!” Severed Hand said, holding Eliza’s hair high up in the air.
For long moments nothing happened and then off in the distance Severed Hand could see a parting of souls as one walked among them. Crevices had formed in the girl’s face from the tears that never stopped running through them. Her mouth was open in a wide oval as if she were screaming yet no sound was heard. Her arms were outstretched as she beheld the locket of hair Severed Hand held.
“You are Eliza?” Severed Hand asked. It was difficult to compare the evil being that had destroyed his people with this hunched over, tortured young girl. He had a moment of regret for what he was about to do. At least here she could walk free, forever searching for the body that had given her away. Once in the blood stone she would be trapped fast, even her tears would not be able to flow.
Eliza walked quickly to where Severed Hand stood. She was desperate to touch anything that had once belonged to her. When she reached out to touch the hair, Severed Hand pulled it close to his body and with the other hand gripped her arm tightly. “NOW!” he screamed in the ethereal world as well as the real.
Chief Running Bear and the braves began chanting the words that Severed Hand had taught them earlier in the day. He felt his spirit being dragged back down even faster than he had risen. It was too fast and yet he kept speeding up. Severed Hand slammed back into his body, almost relinquishing his grip on Eliza’s soul. Everyone but Running Bear gasped as they saw the vision before them of a white mist which formed the shape of a young woman in the grip of Severed Hand.
Kills Coyote ran towards Severed Hand and with a torch of burning sage swept it completely around the medicine man and the apparition. Severed Hand let go of Eliza who was trapped for the moment in the smoke of the Sage. He spoke a few words to the Spirits of the Ground. The Blood Stone shone from within, the red light illuminating the faces of those around it. Eliza was panic stricken as Severed Hand once again grabbed her; his spirit intermingled with hers as they both plunged into the stone. The light from within flashed brilliantly and then just as quickly died out. Severed Hand’s body slumped forward to the ground.
“Is he dead?” one of the warriors asked Running Bear.
“No, he will live forever,” Chief Running Bear said as he stood up and grabbed the red stone from the open hand of Severed Hand. He held the stone up to the light of the new morning; two minor blemishes deep in the depths of the stone stared back at him. “I will miss you, old friend,” Running Bear said sadly as he placed the stone into a pouch that Severed Hand had given to him the day before.
“You do this for me, Colonel,” Eliza said. “And I will return your family safely.”
“What proof do I have that you have them? I can’t just take my troops a hundred miles to the West and destroy an Indian tribe that has not so much as stolen a chicken,” Colonel Broward said to the beautiful woman before him. He had been summoned by his sergeant to meet her in the town saloon. She said that she had word of his family.
“Would you not recognize the earrings that you bought your blushing bride?” Eliza asked.
“Of course I would…” Colonel Broward gasped as Eliza produced the e
arrings still attached to the ears that once worn them, “My God, my Mary! What have you done?” the Colonel said in shock, getting louder and nearly rising from his seat.
“Sit!” Eliza commanded, “If you do not, I will leave and you will never see the rest of your precious Mary,” she fairly hissed out.
The Colonel sat, the white of shock spreading through his features, his eyes never wavering from the blood encrusted ears that Eliza left on the table.
‘My… my children are safe?” the Colonel asked, finally pulling his gaze up from the macabre image before him.
Eliza nodded once.
“All I have to do is kill a few Indians and you will give me my family back?” the Colonel asked, nearly breaking down.
“That is the deal I am trying to broker with you,” Eliza said amiably.
“Swear it!” the Colonel demanded. “Swear it on your accursed soul!”
“I swear it on my soul,” Eliza laughed.
“I will leave tomorrow. We are done here,” the Colonel said, rising to his feet. He was eager to get away from the abomination standing before him.
“Colonel, you will leave tonight,” Eliza said as she stood up.
The Colonel nearly fell over as Eliza tossed his wife’s ears at him. The last sound he heard was Eliza’s laugh as the saloon doors swung open.
“Captain, get forty of your men. I want to do a long range patrol out to the western edge of the Lakota nation. I have heard rumors of an uprising,” Colonel Broward told his captain.
“I have not heard any such thing. Have we received orders from Washington?” Captain Reynolds asked.
“Just get the men ready! If you question my orders again you will be cleaning latrines!” the Colonel shouted.
“Who will be leading the men?” the Captain asked, snapping to the position of attention.
“I will,” the Colonel said resignedly. “Let me know the moment they are ready. You are dismissed.”
“Colonel?” the Captain asked. This was not like his commanding officer, he was hoping to get an explanation.
“Go Captain,” The Colonel said with less force. “Perhaps someday I will be able to tell you…”
“Yes sir,” the Captain said, saluting and then turning around to do as he was told.
Five days later the weary cavalrymen, pushed to their limits, came across the remaining members of the Lakota tribe. Chief Running Bear, although caught completely by surprise, rallied a stout defense. The army lost ten of its best, but that Lakota tribe was erased from the annals of history that day.
The remaining soldiers picked through the dead looking for souvenirs to impress their girlfriends or friends back home.
Corporal Tenson was almost caught as he peered into the red jewel he had found among the possessions of the dead Indians.
“Corporal, I ordered everyone on burial detail. Get your ass over there!” Sergeant Clanton bellowed.
Corporal Tenson slid the stone into his pocket. He had never before been so happy digging a hole in his entire life. ‘I’m rich,’ was all he could think.
Colonel Broward returned home five days later. His two children and wife were home, but the light of life had been extinguished days previously. The stench of decay permeated his entire home, flies and maggots fought for position on the bodies. Colonel Broward placed his Colt .45 against his temple and joined his family in death, but not in spirit.
Check out these other titles by Mark Tufo
Zombie Fallout
It was a flu season like no other. With fears of contracting the H1N1 virus running rampant through the country, people lined up in droves to try and obtain one of the coveted vaccines. What was not known, was the effect this largely untested, rushed to market, inoculation was to have on the unsuspecting throngs.
Within days, feverish folk throughout the country, convulsed, collapsed and died, only to be re-born. With a taste for brains, blood and bodies, these modern day zombies scoured the lands for their next meal. Overnight the country became a killing ground for the hordes of zombies that ravaged the land.
This is the story of Michael Talbot, his family and his friends. When disaster strikes, Mike a self-proclaimed survivalist, does his best to ensure the safety and security of those he cares for. Can brains beat brain eaters? It's a battle for survival, winner take all!
Zombie Fallout 2: A Plague Upon Your Family
Zombies have destroyed Little Turtle, the Talbot’s find themselves on the run from a ruthless enemy that will stop at nothing to end their lineage. Here are the journal entries of Michael Talbot, his wife Tracy, their three kids Nicole, Justin and Travis. With them are Brendon, Nicole's fiancée and Tommy previously a Wal-Mart door greeter who may be more than he seems. Together they struggle against a relentless enemy that has singled them out above all others. As they travel across the war-torn country side they soon learn that there are more than just zombies to be fearful of, with law and order a long distant memory some humans have decided to take any and all matters into their own hands. Can the Talbots come through unscathed or will they suffer the fate of so many countless millions before them. It's not just brains versus brain-eaters anymore. And the stakes may be higher than merely life and death with eternal souls on the line.
Zombie Fallout 3: The End…
Continues Michael Talbot's quest to be rid of the evil named Eliza that hunts him and his family across the country. As the world spirals even further down into the abyss of apocalypse one man struggles to keep those around him safe. Side by side Michael stands with his wife, their children, his friends and the wonder Bulldog Henry along with the Wal-Mart greeter Tommy who is infinitely more than he appears and whether he is leading them to salvation or death is only a measure of degrees.
As Justin continues to slip further into the abyss he receives help from an unexpected ally all of which leads up to the biggest battle thus far.
Dr. Hugh Mann – A Zombie Fallout Prequel 3.5
Dr Hugh Mann delves deeper into what caused the zombie invasion. Early in the 1900’s Dr. Mann discovers a parasite that brings man to the brink of an early extinction. Come along on the journey with Jonathan Talbot is bride to be Marissa and the occasional visitations from the boy with the incredible baklava. Could there be a cure somewhere here and what part does the blood locket play?
Indian Hill
This first story is about an ordinary boy, who grows up in relatively normal times to find himself thrust into an extra-ordinary position. Growing up in suburban Boston he enjoys the trials and tribulations that all adolescents go through. From the seemingly tyrannical mother, to girl problems to run-ins with the law. From there he escapes to college out in Colorado with his best friend, Paul, where they begin to forge new relationships with those around them. It is one girl in particular that has caught the eye of Michael and he alternately pines for her and then laments ever meeting her.
It is on their true ‘first’ date that things go strangely askew. Mike soon finds himself captive aboard an alien vessel, fighting for his very survival. The aliens have devised gladiator type games. The games are of two-fold importance for the aliens. One reason, being for the entertainment value, the other reason being that they want to see how combative humans are, what our weaknesses and strengths are.
Follow Mike as he battles for his life and Paul as he battles to try and keep main stream US safe.
Timothy was not a good man in life being undead did little to improve his disposition. Find out what a man trapped in his own mind will do to survive when he wakes up to find himself a zombie controlled by a self-aware virus.
Please look also for:
the story ‘My Name is Riley’ published in the Undead Tales Anthology by Rymfire books!
Follow Riley an American Bulldog as she struggles to keep what remains of her pack/family safe from a zombie invasion.
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