Chapter
41: Nightlife
Humidity creeps into the cool night air.
Inside the old well-kept wood paneled station wagon. There is an odd assortment
of beings this night. The battered station wagon looks suspiciously like the
one from those old National Lampoon’s movies. It casually navigates the muddy back
roads of this rural area. Distant claps of thunder interrupt the conversation
between two of the car’s occupants. As two others lay curled in the fetal
position on the floor behind the front seats. “Lawson ….” Hobart questions his
fellow zombie from the passenger seat. Lawson who is focused on driving cuts
his eyes in his passenger’s general direction. “What Hobart?” The one time death
row inmate turned sentient walking corpse responds. His voice tinged with a
hint of annoyance. “It’s been a while since I drove and I’m tryin’ to
concentrate dumbass.” He tells the dead man in the grimy prison guard uniform.
Hobart himself is lost picking at the bone fragments around his shattered eye socket.
“Bro just want to know why you trust that nutty ass Sin Preacher chick so
much.” Lawson takes his attention from the road as plump raindrops begin to
pelt the car. He stares down Hobart his cloudy orange eyes narrowing into
slits. “Nah no disrespect Ian ….” Hobart holds his hands up in an effort to
indicate his submission. “Just saying man you ran the biggest prison in the
state from death row.” Hobart fumbles over his words. “Whatever you wanted you
got every guard, every inmate was terrified of you. Now you’ve signed on with
that robed bitch. It’s like to you her word as law.” The sound of Lawson’s
knuckles cracking as he grips the steering reverberate about the car. “First
off motherfucker …” Lawson snarls through gritted teeth. “Do I have to remind
you who the fuck you are talking to?” Lawson’s right hand snakes out. He stabs
two fingers into the black gooey hole where Hobart’s left eye had once been.
Lawson pulls the dead guard to him like he’s grabbing an unruly fish by the gills.
“Law … Lawson.” Hobart cries flailing around the front seat of the car.
Slamming on the car’s brakes Lawson causes the vehicle to slide sideways on the
rain soaked muddy road. Ian Lawson yanks Hobart’s face as close as he can to
his own. For a brief moment the only sound in the car is rain drumming off
metal. Ian the undead serial killer takes the time to deviously wiggle his
fingers in to slimy goo inside Hobart’s skull. This odd sensation brings
renewed protest from Hobart. “Bro …. Bro please.” “Shut up bitch!” Lawson
screams out. “Remember Hobart I aint forgotten I’m a damn zombie because of yo
stupid ass boy. You might be dead punk but I can still make you hurt.” The
killer exercises complete control over Hobart. He slaps Hobart’s head viciously
off the dashboard twice before slowly withdrawing his fingers from Hobart’s eye
socket. “You just one eye away from being blind bitch!” Lawson points with the
same two fingers that he’d seized the man’s diseased head with. A deep red
mixture of fluids fly from their tips as he points. “Do I make myself clear
boy?” Lawson asks Hobart who has drawn himself back against the window like a
frightened child. “Yeah ….. Yeah bro.” Hobart’s hands tremble as they nervously
make their way up to the hole in his face. “Let’s get one thing straight boy.
That bitch says she can get us into a military base full of living warm human
meat. When she done served her purpose just like you. I’ll get rid of you both
and anybody else who tries to control me.” Hobart swallows hard. His dry sickly
colored tongue literally sticking in his throat. “Hey …. Man I ... I’m with you
bro. You and me Lawson we a team bro…… a team.” Hobart shouts. Ian shakes his
head emitting an audible chuckle. “I got a prison guard for a bitch.” The smirk
fades from his face as he cranes his head forward. Lawson peers from the car’s
windshield at the sky.
Rain was pouring down trying in vain to
cleanse the now polluted planet. Ian’s mood darkened to match the atmosphere
outside. He’d been imprisoned so long he’d forgotten how beautiful the sky was.
Now these cursed clouds obscured his vision of the stunning ribbons of orange light
that cascaded across the night sky. “Let’s do this.” Lawson announces. “Come on
lil piggies.” Lawson roars stepping out of the car into the downpour. He leaves
his door open and the car running. Lawson drags Ben roughly from the back seat dropping
him in the cool wet muck. He looks down at the naked black man whose hands are
tied at the wrist. “I got the bitch Lawson!” Hobart calls over the rain and
thunder. On the other side of the station wagon Hobart takes his sweet time pulling
Private Lockett from the car. He makes sure his cold clammy hands linger on her
exposed breast. He pulls the young soldier by her bound wrist like an ornery
pack mule. Sara is dumped in the mud next to Ben. Hobart casually steps
backwards behind Lawson his job done. Rain falls in sheets so dense it’s hard
to see more than a few feet in any direction. “Now meat ….” Lawson addresses
the pair of humans on the ground at his feet. “Dead or alive my word is my
bond.” He wipes the rivulets of rain water from his face. “So I won’t kill your
asses this time but the next time I see you piglets.” Lawson advances slowly
squatting his booted feet sinking in to the thick mud. “I will tear you apart
with my teeth. Take heart though yo friends and shit back at that church.”
Lawson’s lips pull back into a sinister sneer. “I assure you they are going to
die by my hands while pleading for God take them.” He looks back a Hobart. The
dead man is staring up letting the rain pool in hole in his face. Lawson clears
his throat standing up. “Huh?!” Lawson snaps back. “Uh yeah motherfuckers y’all
is dead!” He utters comically as Lawson brushes past Hobart paying him no mind.
“Get in the car you fucking moron.” Lawson says shaking his head in disgust.
Hobart zips off around the car to the passenger side afraid of displeasing Ian.
Lawson stops leaning on the open door. Without warning he leans into the car pounding
his fist down on the steering wheel. The horn blares out cutting through the
symphony of rain and thunder. “Wooooooo! Woooooooooooo! Cooooooooome and
geeeeeeeeetttt it!” Lawson hoots and hollers into the night. He laughs like the
maniac as Hobart ever the follower joins in. “Human Sushi!” Hobart adds
drumming on the car’s roof. The horn falls silent and all that’s left is the
sound of pouring rain.
Ben
gets up to his knees then he stands upright. Leaning down taking Sara’s arm he
never takes his eyes off their captors. “Get up now!” He tells the girl tugging
at her by the arms. “Sara … Sara there’s a path over there come on!” He tries
to keep his voice low so the ghouls won’t hear him. “Hey piggies have you ever
heard of fast food?” Lawson shouts cupping his hands over his mouth pointing
into the darkness. “Well y’all best be faster food.” Ben turns back looking
over his shoulder. He’s distracted by the odd sensation of mud squishing
between his toes. Ben watches the darkness in the distance. His vision is obscured
by the driving rain. There he sees them where there was nothing before a pair
of orange dots floating in the distance. A dazzling bolt of lightning
illuminates the area. Ben catches a glimpse of a figure moving their way. He’s
frozen in place the mud around his ankles now feels like cement. Instinctively
he pulls Sara close to him. He does so in the same manner strangers seated next
to each other on a plane. Holding hands as they plummet towards the ground
seeking a few precious seconds of comfort. He begins to back pedal when he’s
greeted another flash from the sky. Where the lone shadowy figure had once been
there were now dozens. Ghostly eyes hover about the landscape menacingly. The
glowing orange eyes reflect each jagged bolt of lightning. Ben can’t stop a
shiver from running up his back. The eyes appear to float adrift in a sea of
black riding an unseen current their way. They all look as if to be headed to
where Ben and Sara now stand. More lightning there are now dozens of forms
coming through the darkness. Glowing eyes dot the night from as far back as
they can see. “Sara we gotta go.” Ben yanks Sara along as he passes the car
cautiously. He sees their one time abductors grinning back at them. Ben feels
paved asphalt under his feet as he and Sara take off at a dead sprint down a
scenic river bike path. “Over here!” Ben hears someone scream from behind them
as the rain drowns out the voices. He can only hear thunder and rain in
addition to the sounds of their muddy feet slapping the ground. “Stay close
Sara.” Ben tells Sara looking over his shoulder. He goes to work on the
restraints with his teeth. Ben gets the rope’s knot to loosen and starts to
wiggle his beefy hands free. “Ben I can’t get mine …” Sara says in a panic.
“I’ll get yours when we get a chance to hide.” Ben squints through the rain
driving before him. He sees a black shape floating in the air up ahead of them.
“They are coming for us Ben I can hear shouts.” Sara wails as the rain washes
the mud from her face into her mouth. “Don’t stop Sara we can use the rain for
cover. Nothing’s gonna stop me from getting back to my family.” Ben’s emotional
words come from his heart but his physical heart feels like it’s ready to
implode inside his chest. He doesn’t stop reaching back taking hold of Sara’s
bound wrist. They run on together each one occasionally glancing over their shoulder
searching the shadows for their pursuers. Sara is slowly pulling ahead of Ben
fueled by a steady flow of terror and adrenaline.
“Hey Lawson why the fuck we still here?”
Hobart calls out over the thick grey sheets of rain. He leans on the passenger
side of the station wagon waiting for his answer. “I figure we are do for some
guest.” Lawson squints his dead eyes peering at the forms emerging from the
shroud of rain. A dazzling bolt of lightning illuminates the area before them.
Emerging from the downpour is a teaming mass of the undead. Rotters sprint into
the picture driven by hunger for live human flesh. Behind them Trotters meander
about on unsure footing. The less coordinated dull zombies fall about in the
thick muddy farm fields around them. Lawson realizes the snarling cadavers
vaulting from the cloak of water aren’t stopping. Their dead eyes can’t discern
warm blooded bodies from the putrid decaying mobile corpses of their kin.
Lawson is aware his brethren are hunting based on the shape of their prey.
“Shit.” Lawson sighs as the heavy wet footsteps beat nearer to him. The rage in
the howls of the zombie nearest to him brings out his own inner demons. The
first cold body to jump him is a tall lean form shaped like a man. It lunges
forward just as Lawson steps gracefully to the side. “You motherfuckers really
need to learn to control y’all selves.” He barks catching the running corpse by
the scruff of his neck. Lawson whirls around with the corpse in hand using its
own momentum to his advantage. He propels the dead man’s head into the car’s
rear passenger door. There is a loud crack like a tree branch snapping. The
zombie goes limp in his grip in the same motion Ian Lawson pirouettes to face
the next corpse. He lashes out in a blur propelling his calloused fist into the
screaming woman’s face. Her head whips back as he catches her by her filthy blouse.
Lawson takes the zombie to the ground dragging her over to the open car door. Lawson
holds the flailing zombie with his right hand like a snake handler. Lawson uses
his right hand to grasp the still open car door. He begins to slam the
shrieking zombie’s head between the door and the frame. The blows from the door
come in rapid succession as Lawson’s rage reaches a volcanic boiling point.
“You ……” He screams out slamming the door over and over in a blur. “Need to
…..” Lawson pauses calmly. Looking over at Hobart who is standing with his
fetid mouth wide open catching rain. “Control yo’selves!” The final vicious
blow from the door crushes the zombie’s head. Lawson looks down watching the
decaying woman’s headless body twitch about in the mud. Lawson releases the
door turning about slowly. He walks towards the gathering horde of zombies.
The dead can see now that he is one of them. “We
just let loose a couple naked darkies.” Lawson looks at the zombies gathered
around him. He points through the veil of rain down the pathway where Sara and
Ben had disappeared. “What do you mean you idiot?” A fidgety woman shouts
angrily pushing her way through the crowd. “Why in the fuck wouldn’t you chase
them down yourselves? You two pretty boys in the habit of sharing your food?”
She mocks stepping up into Ian’s face. “Other than that prison jumpsuit what
makes you any different from us?” She says challenging the killer. Lawson takes
his time looking the ghoul up and down. His eyes linger on the curves of her
breast underneath her blood caked t-shirt. A rotter slowly shuffles between
them with his dull cloudy eyes staring down the bike path. The zombies moan
causes the others like him to ring their vocal dinner bell. The mindless walking
corpses ignore the infected casually fighting amongst themselves. They sense
the warmth through the rain left by the fleeing humans. “Where the hell all
these dummies goin’?” Hobart asks over the top of the car. “They can sense
warmth from those two we turned loose I bet.” Ian chuckles. The rest of you
festering fuckers are too smart for yo own good.” Ian Lawson blurts. Those dumb
rotten sacks of maggot food go on base instinct. I suggest you folks beat them
to dinner cause they tend to make a mess of things when they get there first.”
A few of the sentient zombies look around at each other. “Fuck that!” A short
bald man dressed like a high school gym teacher spits as he turns to run. He
opens the proverbial flood gates as wailing zombies follow him. They plow head
long into the slow moving pack of zombies trampling them under feet. Bones are
broken in a collision of the undead. Some Rotters find themselves pushed by
frantic undead hands into the slow moving river besides the bike path. “Get in
the car Hobart.” Lawson commands lowering himself back into the idling vehicle.
“You didn’t answer my questions asshole.” A woman’s raspy voice barks from the
backseat. Lawson turns about in the driver’s seat to face the woman as she
slams her door shut. Here in the cabin of the dimly lit car he can see the
flesh torn from the back of her neck. The bones visible there appear to be an
impossible shade of white to his foggy eyes. “What makes me different you ask?”
Lawson says. In the blink of an eye his hand is around her throat. Yet she doesn’t
flinch an evil smile coming to roost on her face. “What makes me different
bitch is that I killed before all this …. Before death was fashionable.” His
grip tightens fingers burrowing into the dead woman’s neck. Hobart watches the
scene unfold with all the glee of a child watching his idol sign an autograph.
“Unlike you … you dead rotten piece of shit.” He whispers pulling the woman’s
face up to his. “Dead or alive I can control my urges to kill.” Lawson shoves
the ghoul back into her seat. She bounces up and down clapping “We’re gonna
have so much fun boys!” Lawson throws the car into gear pressing the gas pedal
to the floor. The car fishtails through the muck as Ian heads back to the
church.
“Thank God.” Sara whispers in Ben’s ear.
“Alright let’s move this way.” Ben states they begin to make their way down the
iron frame of the trestle. Soon they find themselves out over the shallow icy
water of the river. “Where does this thing go Mr. James?” Sara murmurs. “I
don’t know …. The other side of the river I guess.” Ben responds as they move
hand over hand balancing on a thin ledge of dusty steel. Ben can see the river
bank on the opposite side. “We crawl up then stay low.” Ben tells Sara over his
shoulder. “Ok I say we hunker down til morning.” Sara responds. Soon they come
to the end of the trestle Ben holds his hand up as a signal. Sara stops as he
pokes his head up between the old battered railroad ties like a frightened prairie
dog. “Let’s go.” He murmurs ducking back under the trestle. Ben groans as he
wiggles his burly frame up onto the railroad tracks. Once more he reaches down
to give Sara a hand up. From their blind side Ben vanishes taken off his feet
by a shadow. Someone pounces yelling “Gotcha ….” Ben’s blindsided by a shadow. Sara
is stunned as Ben and the shapeless form tumble down an embankment into a
drainage culvert. They hit the water with a splash. Private Lockett gnaws at
the rope cinched painfully around her wrist. She feels the rope loosening as
she bites like a crazed animal. Down in the drainage ditch she can see the
oddly shaped figure straddling Ben. The murky runoff water is only about two
feet deep. “Oh God!’ Sarah exclaims. She can see the figure sitting atop an
apparently dazed Ben. It was the armless zombie who’d lingered behind after the
others. Finally she frees her hands dropping the rope at her feet. Sara scans
the area in a panic she grabs the only thing she can a large brick. Sara leaps
down the slope towards the bodies thrashing in the river runoff. “So those
assholes weren’t …..” The zombie atop Benjamin James never finishes his
thought. Sara slaloms on her bare feet down the waterlogged grassy embankment.
With a grunt she smashes the brick into the dead man’s skull with both hands.
Bones crunch like breaking china as the zombie pitches forward into the water.
“Over here!!” A voice calls from beyond the curtain of rain. “Come on Ben we
gotta move.” Sarah whispers in a harsh hushed tone. She directs her large
companion to a drain pipe two feet wide running under the road above them. Ben
moves slowly climbing up and in the chrome opening. “Here ….” Sara hands him
her lethal brick. “You watch that end.” Sara points through the trash filled
drainpipe. Ben can see light at the pipe’s other end. “Ok …” He mumbles. Sara
reaches down in the muck finding a jagged chunk of concrete. She leaves the
crumpled zombie behind crawling into the pipe staring at Ben’s back. She turns
the opposite way as they squat back to back. “You and me Mr. James.” Sara
swallows hard water running down her face. “Please …” Ben huffs quietly through
gasps of air. “Call me Ben … Sara after all we’ve seen each other naked.
“Shhhh.” Sara hushes Ben. “I heard a splashes from over this way.” A distant
voice calls from above them through the softening rainfall. “Down there it’s
that armless fuck.” Another person laughs. Sara thinks the voice belongs to the
fat zombie from across the river. “Bet he fell his stupid ass down that slope
and split his head open.” The fat man laughs at the body floating just beyond
arm’s reach of Sara. Soon the concerto of laughter above them drowns out the
distant thunder. “Let’s go …..” Chubby the zombie says. “Those assholes lied to
us. Besides I think I saw some people a few miles down the road this morning
times a’ wasting it’ll be daylight soon.” For the first time since they had
been captured Sara thought “It’s quite.” “Sara …” Ben wheezes his teeth
chattering. “We aren’t alone in here kid.”
Well finally The Living Dark is back I am glad to say! So much has gotten in the way of Chapter 41 but it is here now and I hope it was worth the wait.
Looks like Sara and Ben have found themselves in a bad place. By bad place I mean butt ass naked and on the run from zombies. Meanwhile Lawson and Hobart head back to the church and their keeper The Sin Preacher.
Hope to see you all back the week of January 5th for Chapter 42. Enjoy your Christmas and New Years! See you all in 2014!
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The Living Dark
