Uncle Gary's Campfire Stories: Bayou Zombie Werewolves

by Visada, J. L. M.

  “I’ll show them.” Terence muttered as he grabbed the first of his phosphorus grenades. He flung it out, and it exploded beside a cypress tree. As the roots burned they looked like a gnarled old hand clawing at the earth. In the fog it had a strange ghostly quality. Terence threw more of the phosphorus grenades in all directions. Trees and bushes caught on fire all around him. The flames lit up the fog so that it looked as though it was glowing. He still really couldn’t see the people closing in, but now he had glimpses of shadows through the fog. He started tossing his hand grenades at the shadows. They exploded, and he was sure that they had to be hit by the shrapnel, but the shadows kept moving through the fog.

  “Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains.” A man said. It was the first he’d heard any of them speak. He wasn’t sure what they meant by that but he knew it couldn’t be good. He grabbed for another grenade and realized he was out. So instead he picked up his MP5 and started firing at the shadows.

  “Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains!” It was a woman’s voice this time. At least he thought it was. It sounded garbled and there was a slight gurgle as if she was talking with her mouth full of water. Terence heard more of the bear traps slam shut, and even more of the snares. Some for the deadfalls were being triggered, and they crashed down with a distinct thump. He even heard them falling into the spiked pits, but they were still coming.

  Once the MP5 was empty he tossed it aside for the AR-15. Terence lined up his holographic sight with the first shadowed figure he saw. The flames on the cypress tree behind the figure made it look like some kind of shadowy demon with wings of fire. Terence aimed for center mass, and squeezed the trigger. The shadow fell, but then stood back up. “What the fuck?”

  The AR-15 fires a 5.56 mm bullet that is roughly the size of a AA battery. The bullet is supposed to yaw, fragment, and generally deform. If it performs as designed, the bullet enters the body and then leaves an expanding wound as it progresses through the body. The entry wound is the size of a person’s pinky, but the exit wound might be the size of a large man’s fist. When the bullet doesn’t fragment, deform, or yaw it results in an exit wound that is roughly the size of the entry wound. It’d been a complaint against this bullet since the Vietnam War. So when Terence saw the man stand back up, he just assumed the bullet failed and passed through cleanly.

  “Son of a bitch!” Terence growled as he kept pumping rounds into the shadowy figure.

  “Myyyyyyyyyyyy moooooooooooother waaaaaaaaaaas aaaaaaaaaaaaa saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaint.” The shadow responded. His voice slurred, and was more of a groan than anything. Bayou around him was on fire, and the fog got brighter as the flames got more intense. He could see the silhouettes of men, women, and children shambling towards him. He could even see the shadows of the snakes that had bitten down and held on even as the wire was pulled out of their tails. They snakes bodies flailed in all directions as they kept trying to pump venom into their victims, but their victims kept walking as if completely unaware of their attackers.

  “Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains.” It was a little girl’s voice. She was just a few feet from him. Terence pointed the AR-15 and pulled the trigger.

  *Click*

  It was empty. He threw it at the girl and then grabbed the two Uzis. He squeezed both triggers, and a steady spray of bullets cut the girl in half. He reloaded both Uzis and started to look for another target. That’s when he felt a hand grab his leg.

  “Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains.” It was the upper torso of the girl. She’d crawled her way to him, and grabbed his leg to devour him. Terence screamed and unloaded both magazines into the back of the girl. The girl’s head rolled away. The Uzi had practically sawed it off. The Uzis were both empty, but as far as he was concerned it was worth it if the girl finally stopped moving. From this distance he could actually see some of her features. Maggots were eating the skin off her face and a crawfish was living inside the empty socket that one of her eyes used to reside in. Her whole body was waterlogged as though she had spent the last day or two in Lake Maurepas. Fish had eaten off her lips, and some of her hair had fallen out in clumps. He stood there fixated on the horror staring up at him. Then her one eye focused back on him, and she started moving her mouth to try to bite him.

  The groans and sounds of hundreds more shambling through the bayou towards him snapped him out of it. The head couldn’t move, but he still kicked her head away like a soccer ball. He was desperate. There was really only one option left. Terence manned the M134 Minigun. Thousands of bullets per minute ripped out through the night. The Minigun fired so quickly that Terence could see the fog being blown away from the wind created by the bullets going through the air. The Minigun swiveled and cut down trees. He knew it had to be tearing the people apart. The feel of the Minigun jerking with every bullet gave him a real sense of power, and Terence was howling with laughter by the time he released the trigger. For a moment all he could hear was the ringing in his ears, but then he heard them. Some were crawling, some were limping, and some were just walking towards him. All of them were now moving towards him with one thought in mind.

  “Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains.” He could hear them groaning that one word like it was their own personal battle cry. He reloaded the Minigun and opened fire again. This time when it was over he listened and hoped that he finally stopped them. Then he heard it again, “Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains.”

  “Why won’t you fucking die?” He screamed. They kept coming. He could see their maggot infested bodies moving towards him. They were close enough that the fog couldn’t cover up their rotting bodies. Terence panicked and ran towards the safety of his car. He was halfway down the path when one of the zombies reached out. It got his shirt. Terence pulled a Swiss army knife out of his back pocket, and stabbed the zombie in the forehead. It collapsed immediately, but broke off the blade as it fell. “Goddammit!” Terence screamed. He opened the wine bottle opener in case he ran into another undead attacker. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

  Terence weaved in and out through the trees, and stayed on the path as best he could. The fog made it practically impossible to navigate the swamp. The only light came from the cypress trees burning. The fire had begun to spread from one tree to the next surprisingly quickly. The burning cypresses looked like the hands of some angry god trying to reach down with gnarled fingers deep into the earth. The fog, the darkness, and the flames changed the scenery, and before he knew it Terence was well off the path.

  He stopped and listened for the zombies, but the fire was drowning out their movements. He could still hear them groaning though. Running wasn’t an option. All he could think about was what would happen if he ran into the piano wire. He’d set it up to do one of two things. Either he put it low enough to trip on, or he put it high enough that if you were running through the bayou and ran into it then it would cut your throat. The tripping part was worse because he set other traps up around it so that when you fell either something fell on you, or you landed on something sharp and pointy. So Terence navigated his way very carefully from then on.

  He couldn’t tell where he was exactly, but he knew he needed to get back to the lab so that he could try to find his way out again. He’d never find the path if he didn’t start back at the lab. He looked around. The fire was moving through the bayou, and the last thing he wanted was to get trapped in the flames, but at the same time if he headed towards the flames he was pretty sure he’d find his lab again. So he walked carefully.

  Twice he nearly stepped on a bear trap, and some of the snakes lunged at him. Thankfully they were the ones on the ground, and so they just struck his boots. If he’d have run across any of the snakes in the trees he’d have been bitten for sure. Meanwhile he could hear more groans as more and more zombies came into the area. Terence kept moving until he tripped over a piano wire and fell hard. He was just able to twist at the last second. Instead of being impaled on a wooden spike, he just had a chunk taken out of his bicep. “Aw Fuck!” He screamed, briefly forgetting that he wa
s surrounded by the undead because of the pain.

  The zombies heard the scream, and they all changed direction accordingly. Terence heard the groans. Every now and then he heard more of his traps being sprung. If he stayed there the zombies would find him. He knew it and pushed himself up to his feet. One of the zombies got close enough so that he could see him. Moss had already started growing in his hair. Something had eaten at his face, and maggots were gnawing away at the wounds. One of the bear traps was closed around his leg, and the bone was poking out. The zombie limped at Terence. He could see snakes still clinging to his body. Their fangs imbedded into his face and neck.

  “Get away!” Terence screamed. The zombie opened his mouth and more maggots poured out. “Jesus!” Terence gasped. The zombie lunged at him, and he ducked and ran. He was practically blind as he ran through the thick fog. The fires were casting strange shadows in all directions. He couldn’t tell where the zombies were, and it coupled with his own paranoia until he thought every tree branch was a zombie arm reaching out for him. He finally reached his lab, but standing in front of the doorway was the largest, most muscular man he’d ever seen. Huge biceps the size of Terence’s head flexed as the undead monster locked eyes with him. The zombie’s ebony skin was shredded and oozing from gator bites. Some of the spikes from his traps were sticking through his arms, chest, and legs.

  Terence turned to run back down the safe path, but he could hear more of the undead moving in. There was only one option left to him. He turned back to the large muscular black man and ran at him screaming. The undead giant lumbered towards Terence with a groan that grew louder and angrier until it sounded more like the roar of some angry beast. Terence raised his fist. Tucked firmly between his fingers like a set of brass knuckles was the wine bottle opener. The zombie tried to grab him in a bear hug, but Terence dropped and rolled at the last second. The zombie roared in anger and flung himself at Terence one more time. This time he hit him with a glancing blow, but it sent Terence sailing almost twenty feet.

  By the time Terence got to his feet, the muscular zombie was almost on top of him. The undead monster opened his mouth to bite down, and his cheeks split on both sides exposing even more teeth. Terence jumped out of the way. The zombie’s teeth snapped shut with such force that two of his teeth shattered, and fell to pieces. He then slowly turned his head to look at Terence. The zombie moved after the man. Terence ran to the front of his lab. He scrambled down the walkway to the security door. After punching the code in, he looked back. The large undead man was already blocking the walkway, and now there were other zombies pressing in from behind him. Terence slammed the door shut, and moved across the room to his meth lab.

  *Boom*

  It was the giant zombie. His heavy arms dented the steel door. Terence smiled, “That’s it you son of a bitch!” The giant hammered against the door again. Terence grinned in anticipation. The impact initiated the nozzles that were supposed to spray fire into the walkway. Unfortunately, he never considered what would happen with the stairs lowered like a walkway. Instead of a stream of flames, he got an explosion that blew the security door back into the room. Chunks of the giant zombie were blown everywhere. Then he saw them.

  Zombies were piling into the room. Terence knew there was only one thing left to do. They were going to kill him if they got ahold of him, and he was pretty sure that if he somehow survived he’d end up being just like them. Terence didn’t want that so he went with the only option he had left. He walked over to the wall near the refrigerator, and hit a giant red button. When Terence installed the red button, it had been more as a joke than anything else. He’d been up for three days straight and the idea came to him. It was originally just a red Christmas ornament attached to the wall by duct tape with piece of cardboard below it that said self-destruct. He’d made improvements since then.

  Explosives at all four corners of the meth lab detonated. The highly volatile meth exploded shortly afterwards. Terence was killed almost instantly. The underground lab exploded, leaving a huge hole in the earth. Most of the zombies at ground zero were killed instantly. Some of the others were mangled and kept crawling towards New Orleans. Some of the zombies had shrapnel from the explosion imbedded in them. Some had metal from the meth lab, some had chunks of cinderblock, and some even had parts of the refrigerator sticking out of them. One zombie shambled off into the foggy darkness with a half-melted Fleshlight imbedded in his chest.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  “This is stupid!” Todd groaned.

  “What are you talking about? This story is awesome!” Jimmy said. “It’s way better than any of the stories we would have been hearing from Hempstead the Hamster.”

  The other kids laughed and then shot looks over at Ashley to see if she was going to be angry that they were making fun of her boss. She was unreadable for a moment, and then she started to giggle. She tried not to, but the man really did have a rodentlike quality about him. So as much as she didn’t want to, she could see why they’d given him that nickname.

  “It isn’t any better. It’s just crap. Complete crap!” Todd snapped. He didn’t want to admit that all the talk of zombies and werewolves had him terrified of sleeping out in the woods. So instead of begging to go back, and being the camp chicken, he decided to rant about how bad it was until Ashley either sent him back to camp, or they changed the story.

  Gary eyed the teenagers suspiciously. “Weren’t you the one that started asking for another story to begin with?”

  Todd snapped, “Yeah, but I meant a good story. Not this crap your telling. It’s boring. It’s not scary at all, and you keep sticking in these stupid jokes and references to other movies and books and stuff. It’s all just…crap!”

  Ashley gasped, “Todd…we don’t talk like that to people.”

  “It’s crap! I can’t stand it. Baby bombs, an albino zombie werewolf armadillo, a wheelchair bound zombie werewolf, that terrible clan song…that stuff is just stupid! Plus the story doesn’t even have a plot, and what the hell is going on with that redheaded sheriff? Why does he have a hot wife? Nobody is going to believe a short, obese, little person is going to marry some supermodel. None of this is believable in any way!” Todd’s voice was growing louder. “Plus that armadillo keeps going in people’s butts? That’s pretty sick. This whole story is just…stupid!”

  “Shut up Todd!” Jimmy snapped.

  “Eat a dick you stupid fuck!” Todd yelled back, and all the other teens gasped. They already knew Todd was in trouble. There were some words you just didn’t say in front of the counselors. Fuck was generally understood to be at the very top of any list.

  “Todd Raimi Campbell! That is not acceptable.” Ashley snapped.

  Todd winced, he already knew he’d have to get into trouble to get the story stopped, but he still didn’t like knowing Ashley was mad at him. He was almost there. He just needed to push it a little farther, and then he wouldn’t have to hear any more of the story. Todd already knew he was going to have nightmares. “Every part of his story has been done better by other people in other books and movies. You have old people and babies killing people. An armadillo that practically thinks he’s Samuel L. Jackson, and I still say you don’t have any plot. It’s just random crap happening to other random people. It’s fucking stupid!”

  “It has a plot!” Polly snapped. The young teen looked at Todd, “All the different stuff is showing how the zombies spread. It’s all leading somewhere. I don’t know where because Uncle Gary hasn’t told us yet, but it definitely does have a plot. Todd…you just have to relax a little. I know it sounds weird coming from me because of how upset I got when he was making fun of Twilight, but other than the part about Twilight…I kind of have been liking the story.”

  “But it’s just gore and…and…crap!” Todd snapped.

  “It’s just a story. You know…something fun that we can all enjoy and then goof on later. It’s entertainment…or at least that’s what it’s supposed to be.” Polly responded.


  Todd looked at them all. He’d been so close to getting the story stopped, but unless he did something dramatic…he’d have to hear the rest. “This story is bullshit! I’m not going to sit here and listen to some old fart talk about air guitars and shitting in meth while his…retarded son shoves his finger up his nose!”

  “The snot monsters are trying to get my brain!” John said in a futile attempt at defending himself.

  “Todd! You apologize right now!” Ashley snapped.

  “No!” Todd yelled, “It’s a stupid story.”

  “That’s it mister. I’m taking you back to camp.” Ashley stood up.

  The other kids groaned. If Ashley had to take Todd back then they’d have to go back too. That meant they wouldn’t get to hear the end of the story. Some of the teens loved the man’s story, and some of the teens just thought it was okay, but they all thought it was better than the tired old stories they would’ve heard otherwise. Todd however was just happy that he wasn’t going to hear anymore.

  Gary put a calming hand on the woman’s shoulder, “There’s no reason for you to have to take that long walk tonight. My boy can go with him. He’ll take good care of him…won’t you boy?”

  “Yes Daddy.” John said as he pushed himself up to his feet.

  Todd grinned defiantly. He was ready to have everyone angry at him if it meant not hearing the rest of the story, but now the others wouldn’t be nearly as angry with him since they were still going to get to hear it. Sure he might get teased a little, and some of the bigger guys would probably give him a wedgie or two, but it wasn’t going to be anywhere nearly as bad originally thought. Todd pointed towards the darkened path and said, “Let’s go big man. Lead the way.”