by Aline Riva
Vicki looked at him sharply.
“Don't talk like that.”
He turned to her as the look in his eyes softened.
“I'm still here. I'm not going anywhere yet. Stop worrying.”
Then there was a crack followed by the rumble of thunder and the sound gave Vicki a jolt.
“Was that gunfire?”
Greg looked to the closed curtains, glad they had decided to block out the view of the wild storm.
“Thunder,” he replied, “It's just the storm, Vicki.”
She shifted closer to Marc, who put an arm around her shoulder.
“I just want this night to be over,” she said quietly.
The sound heard by Vicki had not been thunder. It had been gunfire as a group on patrol in search of Flint had checked the other side of the sea wall. As a creature had lunged as they entered the gate, the patrol man had yelled out just before his throat was torn, as the creature bit down he jammed his rifle under the chin of the zombie and fired off a shot. As it fell back the air became full of the cries of the undead. A flicker of lightning lit up the beach to show more approaching as many more were tossed about on waves in the stormy sea. Eventually, they would all be on the shore and heading in...
The other two people in the search party were Parsons and Emma, both armed and wearing rain proof coats that did little to protect them from the ravages of the storm. Emma's coat was spattered with blood from their dead colleague and as she and Parsons looked at the incoming horde, they knew this would be a repeat of Wolfsheer if they didn't act fast.
“Jesus, there's hundreds of them!” Emma exclaimed as fear shone in her eyes and she looked to the creatures tossed about on the waves, then she gave a gasp as she spotted something Parsons had missed as he took aim and fired off a head shot, taking out one creature that staggered up the beach, the second hit the sand a moment later, a well aimed bullet hole punched into the centre of its brow. He fired off more rounds at the zombies being carried in on the tide, as they hit the sand they were dead with bullets in their skulls as behind them, more were carried closer by the churning sea.
“Parsons...I think we can stop them.”
He glanced at her with a look of disbelief in his eyes.
“No, Emma, we have to hold them off and then get some help. I don't think even the whole of John's crew can stop this horde! There's too many, the sea is full of them!”
As he spoke their moans carried on the wind, mixing with its howl as it drove the hard rain inland. Emma turned from the force of the gust as she gave her reply.
“Look at them, Parsons!”
Just then the sky lit up for a brief moment and he saw more struggling against the churning waves – in a dark sea, they were dark too, shining and coated. The sea had brought in more than a horde – it had also washed in an oil slick and the creatures were covered in it.
“We need to burn them!” Parsons said.
“My thoughts exactly!” Emma replied, turning hard again as the wind hit her back, “We need some help... Greg had some fireworks left over from New Year... rockets! We could launch them on the beach and -”
The oil covered zombie behind her was suddenly visible as lightning flickered, its hands smeared her screaming face and twisted brutally, snapping her neck and tearing off her head as its eyes stared white. Its jaw dropped showing sharp teeth, then as it bit into her skull with a crack the flickering stopped as Parsons loaded off round after round into the undead creature, every bullet that punched into it sent it staggering backwards as Emma's body fell to the ground and it carried on gnawing through skull to reach brain matter, it was drooling and snarling as its oily hands groped at the hole in the skull and it buried its mouth within. The final shot took off the top of its skull and it fell back, still clutching Emma's head as it plunged to the sand.
More creatures were climbing now. Parsons reloaded and fired more shots, hitting them clean as he picked them off, and the bodies fell to the sand below. More creatures were tossed about on the waves and were raising rotting hands, as if trying to reach out and grab at the shore line. Emma was dead. The shock was yet to hit him, but he recalled her last words:
They had to start a fire...
He broke into a run, heading for the open gate, from the top of the hillside Greg's house was visible. He had to get there and grab those rockets before it was too late...
Back at the house, tea and conversation had lifted the mood as the storm raged on outside. Greg had set aside his concerns for Flint, the night was wearing on and so far, there had been no sign of him. Maybe he really was as harmless as he seemed and had simply wandered off. His thoughts were turning to the future and he felt a spark of optimism as he sat there surrounded by those closest to him.
“I remember a few weeks back, John was talking about building a new bar in the centre of town,” he said, leaning back on the sofa as he relaxed beside Cleo, “And I mentioned I used to run a bar back on Wolfsheer... he said it was going to be a really classy place, a bar with a club attached to it. He said Parsons agreed it would be a good idea to have something right in the middle of the town, to bring the community together, a bit of the old world spirit coming back. In time, when the defences are strengthened, maybe my skills as a bite doctor will be less in demand. I can see myself running a place like that, a nice little club...”
Cleo smiled.
“I think that's a great idea!”
Greg looked at her with an optimistic shine in his gaze.
“And you, my love will look so beautiful every night, as lovely as the day I first laid eyes on you, way up on that platform in the circus!”
She smiled as she shook her head.
“I'm never taking on heights again, no platforms, no jumping from bridges either!”
“Those days are over,” Greg promised her, then he leaned closer and gave her a fond kiss as their eyes met and their gaze lingered.
“So it's an early night for you two?” Marc joked, then he reached into his pocket, took out a bottle of pills and opened the cap, taking out two. He downed them with his tea and put the bottle back in his pocket. Greg felt an ache in his heart as he looked at his best friend, that had been a sharp reminder that Marc would not live for much longer.
“So are you off to bed, then?” he said again, his eyes still dancing with amusement.
“I think we'll be off soon,” Greg replied.
Then there was a hammering on the door, making the four of them jolt out of their relaxed state at once as they all rose from their seats.
“I'll go,” Greg said.
“I'm coming with you,” Marc added.
“Why?” Vicki exclaimed, her eyes growing wider as she noticed both men had drawn guns.
“We don't know who could be out there in the middle of a storm, it's best to leave it to the guys,” Cleo said, and thankfully Vicki's unease faded a little, thankfully it was enough to keep her there in the room as Greg and Marc went to the front door armed with weapons.
Greg stood behind Marc, covering him as he opened up the door. Parsons stood on the doorstep, breathless from the run and soaked by rain as he stared down the gun barrel.
“I need your help, and you need those guns! There's a horde washing in and they're caught in an oil slick!”
Greg and Marc holstered their guns, both wearing shocked expressions as Parsons came in and Marc closed the door.
“A horde?” said Greg in alarm.
Parsons nodded.
“For now, most are delayed by the water – the storm has made the sea wild. But we need to burn them. I need the fireworks.”
Greg looked at him blankly.
“What for?”
“Because they might like to write their names in the air with sparklers... The rockets, Greg! We can launch them out to sea!” Marc exclaimed.
Greg stared at Marc.
“Hurry up!” urged Parsons, “There's no time to waste!”
Greg was thinking back to the night of New Year's E
ve.
“They're in the shed!” he said, then he ran to the kitchen, snatched keys from a hook on the wall and unlocked the back door and hurried out into the storm.
As Greg unlocked the shed and went inside, Flint was watching. He had heard them on the wind, his tuned up hearing detecting the moans of the undead as they were tossed about at sea, heading for the shore. He had listened to the snarls of those who had reached the beach, even heard the snap of a neck as a creature claimed its prey and he had envied the feasting that must have followed before the gun shots silenced the feeding.
Now as Greg ran from the shed, leaving the door open to bang back and forth in the wind, he smiled as the rain poured hard through the shrubbery, soaking him as he observed the scene: Greg ran into the house with a box wrapped in clear plastic. Those with him waiting inside also hurried off, and in their haste, they had left the back door wide open...
Greg placed the box in Marc's hands as they stood in the hallway and he grabbed his coat.
“What are you doing?” Marc demanded.
“I'm coming with you!” Greg said firmly.
“No, you're not!” Cleo said sharply, “Stay here, we'll lock the doors... we have to keep the kids safe.”
“You keep the kids safe,” he told her, “I have to do this, Cleo – they need help and there's no time to raise the alarm!”
Vicki stood in the hallway in tears as her face paled.
“Marc don't go, please...”
He handed the box back to Greg and then went over to Vicki and placed his hands on her shoulders as he made her a promise.
“I'll be back very soon, Vicki, it's okay.” He kissed her cheek and then turned away, following Parsons out the door as Greg glanced back at Cleo.
“I love you, take care of the kids, see you soon,” he said, then he closed the door firmly and left Cleo standing there in the hallway, looking tearfully towards the closed door.
“Where's my Dad?”
She turned to see Zodiac standing halfway down the stairs with a confused look on his face.
“There are some undead washing in with the tide. Don't worry, he's going to help get rid of them.”
“He might need my help -”
“No!” she told him firmly, “He wants us to stay here! Now go back upstairs and go to bed. And don't bother climbing out of the window, I've locked them all!”
“But I want to help -”
“Bed!” she ordered, and Zodiac turned slowly and went back up the stairs, knowing he had no choice in the matter – all he could do was watch from the window and hope his father would be safe.
Now they were alone downstairs, all she could hear was quiet sobbing from Vicki.
“Oh god, there's a horde coming... it's going to be like Wolfsheer all over again.”
“No, that won't happen,” Cleo replied as she locked the door firmly.
Just then the back door slammed hard against the wall as the wind rushed through the house.
“He forgot to close the back door,” Cleo said, and she went down the hallway to the kitchen, as Vicki followed. Cleo closed the back door and locked it firmly, then slid the bolt across as the wind rattled it.
Then as she turned to leave the room, the kitchen door swung back and as the man who had been hiding behind it stepped out, Vicki screamed.
Cleo stood there frozen to the spot, her eyes wide, she knew she had a gun but she couldn't reach for it because she was in shock, looking at Harvey Flint. He was scarred, but it was definitely Flint. He was wearing clothing he used to wear back in the days when he ran the town. He was soaking wet from the storm. And he was smiling at her as a manic gleam appeared in his eyes.
“Hello Cleo,” he said, “I'm back.”
She wanted to draw the gun, but the sight of him had shocked her into paralysis as she stood there, questioning her own sanity.
“Flint's dead,” she stated, “Greg killed him!”
“Oh yes,” he confirmed, smiling as he stepped closer to her, “Your husband chained me up in the zombie brothel and let those undead whores rip into me. If you want to know why I'm back, Christian can explain, he used me after I turned, he used my zombified body as a test subject for a serum. I've no idea what was in it, but he didn't know either. He gave me way too much, I'm sure of it. Wait till you see what I can do!”
He took another step closer. Vicki had backed against the wall, weeping in terror as she looked towards Flint, whose sights were set on Cleo.
“Nothing to say, Cleo?” he asked as he stood before her.
Cleo's face had turned almost as white as the streak in her hair that had turned up around the same time the dead had taken over the earth. Her eyes were wide, but her cautious movement was slow and steady as she kept her gaze locked with his as her hand reached beneath her shirt for her holstered gun.
“I know what you're thinking,” he said, and she gasped as he moved lightning fast, beating her to it as he snatched the gun from its holster and tossed it into the hallway.
“Don't try for that gun,” he warned, wagging a finger at Vicki, who was pressed up against the wall on the other side of the room, “Because I can snap you like a twig, and I will, once I've finished with her...” he turned his attention back to Cleo, “I wanted to kill you in front of Greg but he's hurried off to get himself killed by the horde invading the beach. So I won't bother waiting for him to return...” he laughed, “I can just imagine the look on his face if he'd come back here and found you splattered all over the walls... well, what's left of you... the parts I don't eat, I mean.”
Cleo was too horrified to speak.
“There's still a zombie inside me,” he whispered, leaning close to her face, “I'll show him to you in a minute...Just remember before I eat you, this is all the fault of your community leader Mr Mundy and your good friend Doctor Wells.”
She finally drew in a breath and found her voice once more.
“They believed they were finding a cure for the bite virus! Please listen, Harvey... what ever this serum has done to you, nothing bad has happened yet! You don't have to kill anyone.”
As she pleaded, he looked at her with a bemused expression on his face.
“But I want to,” he replied.
Out in the hallway, Christian had crept down the stairs with Zodiac behind him, he had heard the commotion in the kitchen and crept up to the doorway, where he stood with his back against the wall as he looked to the gun on the floor. Zodiac stepped forward but he grabbed him, pulling him back. No, he silently mouthed, I'll do it...
In the kitchen, Cleo was looking pleadingly at Flint as he stood close to her.
“You don't have to kill me...”
He reached up and touched her face. She clasped his hand, pulling it away, then she looked down at the back of it as confusion filled her eyes.
“It's different...it's changed... how can the back of your hand change?”
He pulled back from her grip and ran his fingertips over the smooth skin on the back of his hand, his eyes glittering darkly.
“Everything has changed.”
“And you loved me once! Let me and Vicki go!”
He gave a sigh.
“Sorry, I'm too hungry!” he replied, and his features blurred and distorted in a split second, as he changed from man to zombie. Vicki screamed at the sight of his dead skin, his white eyes and his yawning mouth as he lunged at Cleo, giving a roar.
Chapter 9: The last Hope
Flint slammed Cleo hard against the wall, pinning her there as his jaw yawned wide and sharp teeth snapped together as he bared her throat. She was struggling, helpless as Vicki sat hunched on the floor, screaming in terror and backed up against the wall.
Outside the room, Zodiac could take no more. The gun was on the floor and he knew he could be fast enough. He moved like a blur.
“No!” Christian yelled from the hallway as Zodiac bounded into the room with the gun in his hand.
The boy had moved fast, then he jumped up and shot aft
er shot rang out, slamming bullet after bullet into Flint's head as the zombie roared and his grip on Cleo slipped away. Another bullet sent blood and brains spattered about the room as the final shot saw him hit the floor, his face now human once more as the holes in his head leaked blood and brains and it all ran together amid chunks of skin, hair and skull fragments.
Christian rushed in, his face pale.
“I told you to wait for me!” he said, then he saw Flint was dead.
Cleo was stepping over the body, Vicki was shaken and slowly getting up from the floor on the other side of the room. Zodiac was up on the kitchen counter, still poised to shoot as he clung to an open cupboard door, the gun raised and still smoking from its final shot.
“Is he dead? Is he? Did I kill him?” he said anxiously.
Cleo was shaking and tearful as she took another step towards her son.
“Yes you did,” she said as her voice trembled, “You did good, Zodiac. You killed the bad guy.”
Zodiac dropped the gun and leapt to the floor like a cat, then stood upright and wiped a smear of Flint's spattered brains from his face.
“Are you okay?” he asked as his voice trembled.
Cleo nodded.
He ran to her, colliding with his mother as he hugged her tightly.
“I love you, Mummy!” he said, and then he began to cry.
Christian looked about the kitchen, observing the bloody mess, then he looked down at the body on the floor.
“I blame myself. I gave him way too much of the serum...”
Vicki joined him, she was still shaken but all thoughts of what horrors may lurk outside had been partially banished as the horror within had been slain before her eyes.
“Cleo, what did you mean about his hand, you said it was different?”
She was still hugging Zodiac. Cleo looked up at her from the floor where she was kneeling with her son.
“Flint used to have a lump on the back of his hand, it was a benign growth. I noticed he didn't have it any more.”
