The Demon Dead

by Arthur M Wyatt

  “Ah,” John said smiling, “very clever. Even the Rector can’t argue with that logic.”

  Up in the bell tower the rector waved the yellow rag. Derek saw it immediately and blew the boat’s horn twice.

  “They’re coming back,” he told Jimmy.

  “Woo hoo,” Jimmy shouted excitedly.

  John and Amy left the church through the side door and closed it back. Making their way to the gate, John opened it and looked out into the alley checking in both directions. The coast was clear. John closed the gate and locked it. After he tossed the key back inside the church compound he suddenly felt very vulnerable.

  They made eye contact to reassure each other then started down the alley toward the street. They were half way to the end when the two zombies they saw at the market earlier stumbled around the corner and into the alley. Just as suddenly a scream erupted from behind them at the other end. They jerked their heads around to see a demon. John pulled two flares from his pocket and ripped the caps off.

  “Amy you throw one over their heads and out into the street,” John said pointing at the two zombies who had just stepped into the alley, “and I’ll throw one at the demon.”

  Amy lit the flare and threw it as hard as she could. It sailed over the zombie’s heads and landed in the street. The two turned and started after it.

  John lit his and tossed. It landed about half way between the church gate and the end of the alley. The demon took off at a dead run. Heading straight for the flare.

  “John it’s working. It’s working,” Amy said jerking her head back and forth to look in both directions.

  “Thank God,” John said.

  The demon made it to the flare but to John’s horror didn’t stop. He leaped over it and continued down the path without slowing down.

  “Oh my God,” Amy said raising the shotgun preparing to fire.

  John raised the rifle and was about to fire when the gate from the churchyard swung open and the Rector stepped out into the alley and opened fire on the demon with the pistol. The demon took two more steps then fell to the ground. Three new holes in its body and two in its head.

  Derek heard the shots and looked for them. They were nowhere in sight.

  “They’re in trouble,” Jimmy said.

  “No Jimmy, my guess is the zombies are in trouble,” he answered.

  Amy was fixated on the scene as the Rector turned and headed toward them with a look of utter disbelief and horror on his face.

  Instinctively John knew what was coming and turned back to the zombies on the other side. Immediately one jerked as if he had suddenly wakened from a nightmare and turned. Red eyes blazing.

  “Here he comes,” John shouted, “no head shots.”

  Amy spun around, took her place beside John and raised the shotgun.

  “I... am so, freaking sick of these guys,” she said through clenched teeth.

  Amy lowered the barrel of the shotgun and started firing. John did the same. The Rector raced to their side and stood shoulder to shoulder with them firing until the clip in his pistol was empty. He continued to pull the trigger even though the gun was empty. The demon bucked and jerked but kept coming.

  “The legs,” John shouted.

  By this time the demon was no more than thirty feet away. Amy pumped the shotgun and fired until it was empty.

  The demon finally collapsed to the ground on legs pulverized by buckshot. John fired two more times into it as it pulled itself forward with it arms. The useless legs dragging behind it. Amy stood her ground as she calmly reloaded. The Rector, realizing his gun was empty, lowered it to his side. The demon inched closer still intent on following through with its attack.

  Amy walked to the demon and began firing again. First she worked over the arms until they looked like they had just been through a meat grinder. Each shot sent sparks flying as the brick came apart peppering the demons face until both eyes were oozing bloody fluid that ran down its face. Then she pumped more shells into its torso. The demon lay on the ground twitching and jerking. Blinded.

  Breathing heavily she stepped back.

  “Um...I think you got him,” John said.

  The demon was finished. And this one wouldn’t bother anyone else. In this body or another.

  On the boat Derek heard the burst of gunfire and could tell the difference between the shotgun blast, the rifle’s report and the pistol. When the shooting stopped he knew that one of two things had just happened. Either they had beaten off an attack and were safe, or, they had been overrun.

  “Sorry, I was just trying to stop it,” the Rector said. “I was scared to death.”

  “I think we all were,” Amy commented.

  “Well, I was more terrified than a 9-11 hijacker when God ripped his balls off and through him into hell… please excuse my language,” the Rector said looking at Amy.

  “That’s ok,” she said, “I couldn’t have put it better myself. Besides, you did the right thing. We would have done the same thing had this one got any closer.”

  “You should go,” he told them.

  John took the empty pistol from his hand and replaced it with the fully loaded one from his waist band.

  “Take this,” he said, “it takes the same rounds as the ones Amy left on your desk.”

  The Rector took the gun this time without protest and gripped it tightly. “Actually I was coming to give it back to you, but, considering what just happened I think I’ll keep it after-all. Besides, it was sitting on my desk wasn’t it?”

  John looked at Amy and winked.

  “We need to go John,” Amy said, “and we’re not stopping for anything.”

  “Good luck,” the Rector said as he headed back to the church, “I’ll be praying for you.”

  They said goodbye again and took off for the street ahead. The lone zombie stood over the flare breathing in the sulfur smoke as it rose. It took no notice as they passed. He stood there basking in the pungent odor after the flare had gone out.

  John and Amy ran by the parking lot and convenience store without slowing down. At the next corner they stopped to look around. They had to wait for the horse drawn carriage to pass again before proceeding. The gomer tour guide, in his white shirt and red bow tie, tipped his hat as the old man in the back snapped their picture. Amy smiled for the camera.

  “Wow, I can’t believe you just posed for a zombie to take your picture,” John said laughing. “You’ll be posted all over the zombie social networking sites.”

  “Yeah I know right?” she said giggling. “And I didn’t even have time to brush my hair.”

  They were both laughing as they sprinted across the street, re-tracing their steps from earlier. They didn’t stop until they reached the back corner of the Customs Building.

  John peered around to check their path to the dock. Still clear. He could plainly see Derek on the bridge of the boat scanning the bank with the binoculars. He had positioned the boat in a way to ease in next to the dock quickly.

  John looked at Amy. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Right behind you.”

  “Now,” John said as they left the cover of the building and ran along the water’s edge heading for the dock.

  Amy was right behind him. Derek saw them break cover and put the boat up against the dock just as they were running onto it. John helped Amy onboard, handed her the weapons then leaped on himself.

  “Go go go,” he shouted to Derek.

  “Where’s the guy from the church?” Derek asked.

  “Just go I’ll fill you in later,” John answered.

  Derek eased the throttle forward and the boat responded by moving away from the dock. John climbed the ladder to join him and looked up at St, Phillips. The Rector was in the bell tower waving one of the yellow rags. John reached over and blew the horn.

  “What’s that all about?” Derek asked.

  “That’s the Rector of St. Phillips Church,” John said pointing up at the bell tower, “he wouldn’t leave.”
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  Derek guided the boat out and turned to slowly follow the shoreline toward the battery. He looked at his watch. It was 2:40 p.m.

  “Why wouldn’t he leave?” Jimmy said still sitting in the second seat.

  “He wanted to stay with his church. He thought there may be more survivors and he wanted to be there if they came looking for shelter.”

  Jimmy nodded as if he understood. Amy collapsed into a deck chair exhausted.

  The boat continued on to the battery area. Derek killed the engines and let it coast by the seawall. Several of the undead wandered through the streets. Derek blew the horn then waited. With the binoculars John scanned the houses along the street for any sign of life. He saw none. Other than the zombies the only activity they saw were the squirrels in the park scurrying around collecting acorns. The steady diet of picnic food they were used to gone forever.

  Amy joined them topside and sat down.

  “How you feel?” John asked.

  “Like I just ran a marathon,” she answered.

  “Actually so do I.”

  The boat bobbed gently in front of the battery. A cool breeze blowing in from the East.

  “What’s the Rector’s story?” Derek asked.

  “Not much to it,” Amy said, “he went to his church on the first day expecting survivors to show up but none came. He said he saw a couple of people trying to get there but they were taken over by a mob of zombies, which by the way, he managed to lure inside a cemetery and lock up.”

  “Really, that’s wild,” Derek said.

  “He used old fashioned road flares. They’re drawn to the sulfur smell,” John said. “That’s about it.”

  “Oh, there were bodies stacked up in front of the church just like at your hotel,” Amy added, “and we have flares now.”

  “What was all the shooting about?”

  John told him about the demon and the other two zombies then about the carriage. When he told them about the old gomer taking their picture Jimmy laughed hysterically, which in turn made the rest of them laugh.

  “It is funny,” Amy said.

  “You should have seen the look on her face the first time we saw it,” John said still laughing. “After they passed she looked at me and said, was that cool or what… Priceless.”

  “It’s not fair,” Jimmy said.

  “What’s not fair?” Amy asked.

  “You guys get to have all the fun,” he said, “why couldn’t I come?”

  “Jimmy we don’t want you to get hurt,” Amy answered, “you’re only ten years old.”

  Jimmy crossed his hands over his chest and frowned.

  “Yeah but I’m more mature than most ten year olds,” he said sternly.

  John put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “Jimmy, where we’re going next you’ll get to go ashore with us, and, I’ll tell you what, you can stand guard with a flare. And if anything comes near us you can light it and throw it. Ok.”

  John pulled a flare from his pocket and handed it to Jimmy then took another one out and took the cap off.

  “Follow me,” he told Jimmy, “I’ll show you how to use it.”

  “John… John,” Amy said. “Please tell me you’re not going to light a flare on this boat.”

  “Ok,” John said, “I’m not going to light a flare on this boat. Satisfied?”

  “No.”

  John and Jimmy climbed down to the deck at the back of the boat and stepped over to the side.

  “Ok Jimmy, you take the cap and hold it like this,” John said holding the rough side of the cap against the end of the flare. “Have you ever lit a wooden match on the sidewalk?”

  “Yep, and I know how to shoot fireworks too.”

  “Ok, well, this is kind of like lighting a match. Think of it as a big sparkler. Now watch closely I’m going to light it and throw it on the seawall.”

  John pushed the cap across the top of the flare quickly. It sputtered then started to burned brightly.

  “Oh, my, God,” Amy said, “he’s going to blow us up.”

  Derek laughed.

  “It’s not funny Derek,” she said turning to give him an angry look.

  John threw the flare the fifty feet to the seawall where it settled on the sidewalk in plain view.

  “Wow good throw,” Jimmy said.

  “Thanks.”

  They watched as the flare burned. The smoke drifted across the street with the breeze and wafted through the park and around the houses. As the flare burned brightly two zombies who had been wandering around the park made a beeline for it. Then others appeared until there were six.

  “Ok Jimmy, your turn.”

  John pulled a deck chair over to the side and helped jimmy stand up in it.

  “I’ll hold you by your belt loop. You pretend to light the flare then throw it as far as you can ok.”

  “Why can’t I light it,” Jimmy asked.

  “This is just practice. You can light the next one.”

  “John do you think we should be wasting flares?” Amy said.

  “He needs to know how to use them Amy. It could save his life,” John said. “If this makes you nervous just wait until I teach him how to shoot the guns.”

  “Oh jeez,” Amy said shaking her head.

  Derek, watching all this with amusement looked over at Amy. “He’s right. He needs to be able to defend himself.”

  “I know, it’s just that he’s a little kid.”

  “Well,” Derek said, “he’s going to have to grow up fast now. No more Star Wars and Xbox.”

  Jimmy made a motion like he was lighting the flare then tossed the unlit flare onto the seawall hitting one of the zombies in the back of the head.”

  “Great throw,” Derek said clapping, “now do it for real.”

  Jimmy looked up at John.

  “Go ahead,” John said handing him another flare, “you can do it.”

  Jimmy took the cap off, and struck it across the end of the flare. The flare roared to life. Mesmerized Jimmy stood there holding it in his hand.

  “Throw it,” John shouted.

  Jimmy threw again placing it right in the middle of the group gathered around the first one.

  Derek and Amy clapped. “Alright Jimmy,” Amy said.

  “Yes!” Jimmy said giving John a fist bump.

  John helped him down and patted him on the head.

  “You did great,” he said handing him another flare. “Here, you keep this with you. Don’t use it unless I tell you to ok?’

  “Ok.”

  And never take the cap off until you’re ready to light it.

  “I won’t.”

  John turned to climb back up the ladder when a shot rang out behind him.

  “Everybody get down,” he screamed putting his body over Jimmy.

  Derek and Amy dove for the deck.

  Three more shots rang out. Derek peeked over the side of the bridge in the direction of the shots. He saw that four of the zombies were down leaving two still standing. Two more shots came in quick succession as the other two slumped to the ground on top of the flares.

  “Ahoy there,” came a female voice from the seawall.

  Inside the cabin Suzie barked when she heard the strange voices.

  John stood up to see two figures dressed in dark blue uniform pants and white shirts walking toward them on top of the seawall. They didn’t look like police officers. More like security guards, he thought. The woman was carrying an assault rifle, her companion, a male, was carrying a shotgun but had an assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

  “Are you security guards?” John said loudly to be heard across the one hundred feet of water separating them.

  “No we’re security officers, armed security officers,” the woman said, “there’s a difference.”

  “Right,” John mumbled.

  “I’m Jane and this is Mike. Where are you from?”

  “We came from Mount Pleasant. We’re heading to the light house.”

  The boat was slowly
drifting toward the end of the battery. Derek climbed down and threw the anchor overboard.

  “Hey, don’t you work at the Hotel at Patriots Point?” the man asked Derek when he saw him.

  “Yes, do I know you?” Derek asked.

  “You probably don’t remember me. I filled in for Sam last fall while he was on vacation.”

  “Oh yeah. I remember you vaguely. I was studying pretty hard then.”

  “Yeah I remember that.”

  “Why are you going to the light house?’

  John explained their plans then offered to take them with them. They declined but asked for them to tell the authorities they were still here if they made contact.

  “Did you hear all the shooting about thirty minutes ago?” the woman asked.

  “That was us,” Amy said, “we had a run in with some of them at St. Phillips. The Rector is there alone but he won’t leave.”

  “Yeah, we heard him ringing the bell and saw him up in the steeple,” Mike said.

  “Why haven’t you gone there?”

  “We will eventually,” he said, “right now we’re clearing this end of town. Then we’ll head over there.”

  John, Amy and Derek all looked at each other. “Meet Mr. and Mrs. Rambo?” Derek whispered to the other two.

  “Clearing the town?” Amy asked. “Don’t you think you would be better off staying in a safe house somewhere, like the church? Plus you could protect the Rector.”

  “Well, yeah, but that’s no fun,” the two looked at each other and laughed. “by the time we’re done there’ll be no more zombies left,” Mike said patting his shotgun.

  “They could be more danger to the Rector than the zombies,” Derek said. “He’s better off without them.”

  “What’s that?” the man asked.

  “Nothing,” John said.

  Just then a female, who looked to be in her eighties, stepped from behind a house across the street from the seawall. She was directly across the street from Mike and Jane who had their backs turned to her.

  She wore a dirty white terry cloth robe and one pink bedroom slipper. She raised her foot so high when she stepped forward that she stumbled and almost fell before catching herself and stopping to regain her balance. Then she would take another step and repeat the process. Bloody drool dripping from her toothless mouth.