The Living Dark

Monday, March 18, 2013

Chapter 27: From the Mouth of Babes

The ghoul stands before the terrified kids. Her movements are jerky snakelike motions one second she seems to glide with her steps. The next the deranged figure twitches as if she's short circuiting. It appears that this “being dead thing” is new to her. Chip clutches Belinda with one arm tightly the other holds the pistol shaking. The weapon unsteadily aiming at the dead woman‘s head. The hall is bare of any hiding places he can see the only furniture is a large wooden cabinet filled with expensive looking white China immediately to his left. "Now young children I caution you to consider this precarious position in which you find yourselves." She smiles in the dark coming completely into the small narrow hallway. "I am not an animal like those of my kind who beat about outside. I am not without reason or compassion as oddly as that may sound." The stare down begins between Chip and the monster that had lured them into her lair. "You tricked us ......" Chip says gazing about to gauge his options. "Tricked you young man I saved you and yourrrrrrrr......?" She draws out the question. "My sister...... she's my sister." Chip mutters eyes narrowing as he attempts to focus on his target undulating in the darkness. Unlike his undead adversary Chip's eyes don't see better at the darker it gets. He is aware that he and B are at an extreme disadvantage in more ways than one. "She is a beautiful little girl .... Ben I believe you said your name was." The dead woman sits Indian style on the floor in front of Chip. "Here's your problem Ben ....." "Chip ... people call me Chip." He interrupts the talking zombie on the floor. "Ooooookay Chip it is." Her smile turns into a sneer. "Chip you pull that trigger and those filthy animals outside will besiege this house from all sides." She begins rocking in place her head twisting spastically to the right. "You make any noise louder that we are talking kid and those dumb ones outside will shuffle up to the door to investigate. Then those of my kind the animals I have described to you will catch your scent. They will tear down these walls to devour you and pretty little Belinda there” a wicked giggle escaping her foul dead mouth.

"What do you want errr ...... lady?" He asks the dead woman who is suddenly still. "God I hate it when that happens. My mind goes all cloudy like I can't access my brain or something." She rambles on. "My name is ..... was Tessa…… Tessa ..... Something I can't remember it's not important any way." She rubs her face smearing the black blood on her chin up into her hair. "Well anyway kids I got bit by my neighbor while I was trying to help her last night. I barely made it back to the house my mom was here waiting on me." The thing on the floor sniffles gazing longingly up the vacant staircase "my head hurts." She mumbles under her breath. Chip follows her eyes up the stairs he didn't see it before but there is a trail of blood on the white rug. It stops about halfway down the staircase in a thick maroon puddle. "My yeah ... my mom so I killed her then I … I found myself compulsively eating her flesh Just … just tearing off pieces of meat." Tessa the zombie continues as if the kids before her aren't even there. "So here's the problem that faces you two tonight." Dead Tessa smiles “I have chosen not to be like my kind and give in to my base urges, impulses or sickening compulsions.” She points a viscera encrusted finger at Chip mimicking his grip on the pistol. "I give you at least a fair chance Chip. One of you dies here tonight and the other I will allow to live until daylight. Once the sun comes up you can put me down as I will have lost all of my faculties reverting back to one of those shuffling sacks of pus. "Chip feels the stress of the last few days catching up with him. His body grows warm and Chip knows this is the sensation he gets before a seizure wracks his disabled frame. "You're not supposed to hurt your mommy." Belinda chimes in from her brother’s lap. Chip squeezes her side to quiet her. Not forcefully just enough to get her attention. He does this the way a parent will when their child is repeating something unfaltering they have said about their boss to their boss at the company picnic. Belinda James speaks her mind anyway without stopping. Their dad said it was a trait she got from their mother. "Why would you hurt your mommy Tessa?" Chip's stomach lurches at the sound of his little sister calling the ghoul by name. He felt B was making the dead woman more human which wasn't good in his opinion. Chip didn't know if he could put down a human the way he could with a zombie. The thing sitting before the James children glares absent mindedly awaking from a daze. "I'm bad sweetie pie ..... I'm evil only someone who is evil will do what I have done here tonight." Belinda raises her head to face Tessa for the first time. The small girl in the pink shorts is brave and unflinching. "You don't have to be evil Ms. Tess lady my mommy says God will forgive you." Tessa laughs out loud before covering her mouth like a guilty child. She bolts from the room back to her post by the front window. The ghoul peaks out from the curtains. The streets outside are clear Tessa takes a moment to lose herself in the dancing orange Aurora streaming across the clear purple sky. Slowly she draws herself away from the heavenly lights making her way back out into the hallway.

"Sorry guys I thought I gave us away but the coast is clear we're safe." She pronounces into the darkness. Chip feels his arm holding the pistol slowly turning to lead growing heavier with each passing second. "Belinda sweet child ..." Tessa plops down heavily on the floor once more. "... You're mommy sounds like a fabulous lady I'd love to meet her ... well would have loved to meet her anyway." Undead Tessa laughs while scratching her head. "Belinda did your mother ever tell you what an abomination is?" The brown eyed little girl looks to her big brother she sees he's sweating profusely and his eyes are drooping. "No" Belinda shakes her head. Tessa moves in closer. Chip snaps to the gun now visibly trembling in his gloved hand his fingers kneading the grip. “Forgive me this can’t be easy but you can trust me Chip.” Tessa says scooting back across the hardwood floor. “Belinda an abomination is something unlovable even to God. I am full of sin Belinda the embodiment of everything God hates.” The house goes quiet distant voices filter in on the nighttime breeze. “Is that because you hurt your mommy Tessa?” The child inquires with a tone bathed in true innocence. Tessa hangs her head in shame. “No it’s because he commanded me to die and I feel like I refused him by coming back as this thing before you.” She says head drooping to the floor. “Tessa …..” Belinda begins to speak. Suddenly she’s tossed hard to the floor. The pistol Chip once held clatters to the floor firing off a round in the process. Tessa is hit center mass in her chest by the slug. The undead woman is lifted off her feet then driven to the floor several inches down the hall. “B … B …… Run.” Chip cries out falling from his chair in the grip of a full blown seizure. Chip senses reality swimming away from him closing in from the edges a familiar yet hated state of dread. Before everything goes black he watches the enraged zombie hop to her feet moving for his sister. “I failed …. I failed.” He repeats in his mind over and over until his consciousness fades away completely.

Chip becomes aware that he's sitting up someplace dank and dark. His first thoughts are of an afterlife spent in purgatory because he "couldn't save B." He plants his hands down at his sides "B!" his mind races. There is the sensation of a weight on him as he sits up in the dark. The younger Benjamin draws in a great breath. He was alive having felt his heart leap inside his chest. He needed to find B he had to know for sure what happened to her. Anger erupts from every muscle in his body. Chip pounds the surface under his backside the hollow echo of woods bouncing around the tiny enclosure. "Shhhhhhhh Chip." Tiny fingers come to his lips. "B!" the boy mumbles past the fingers shushing him. "Chip you have to be quite Tessa says. Those bad things have been in her house looking for us all night." The small child whispers. Chip embraces his sister he longs to look her in the eyes to see her face. He settles instead for kissing her forehead. "Chiiip stop you're gross." She protests giggling. "How did we get in here ……? Um wherever here is?" Chip squirms his little sister speaks to him in an exaggerated whisper. "We are in a closet under the stairs. Tessa helped me move you in here after your gun went off those zombies came running and I was scared." Chip finds himself blinking in disbelief "She helped ... us? Why? She could have killed us both." "She told me she wasn't a bad person and she hated what she was." Belinda's words confuse him nervously he licks his lips. "Have you heard any of those loud ones in the house recently B?" Chip asks his brave tiny savior. "Nope I was sleep. Tessa said we should stay here where it was safe." Chip repositions himself. “B I don’t think we can trust Tessa. Also I have no clue how long I’ve been out cold. If it’s day time we stand a better chance of getting out of here.” “Chip we can trust Tessa.” Belinda James declares. Chip breathes in deeply summoning up his nerves. He adjusts his gloves making sure the fit snuggly. “B where is the lucky mallet and dad’s gun?” He asks placing Belinda beside him on the floor. “We left he gun on the floor Tessa said we didn’t have time to grabs it. Your hammer must still be in your chair it’s in the hallway by the door.” He mulls over his options “Sit tight kid and lock the door behind me alright?” Like any smitten little sister she wants to do what her big brother asks but Belinda grabs Chip’s arm. “Don’t go Chippy…” She pleads. “I have to B if we are ever going to see our family again. Plus I’m not sure how much longer I can protect you. Every damn thing is twice as hard for me thanks to my noodle legs.” Chip senses a moment of self loathing pity wash over him. He decides to shove it down deep enough into his gut to let it fuel his actions. He runs his hands about the floor tracing the floorboards until he feels a breeze from beneath the door jam. He moves his hands up grasping the cool metal of the doorknob twisting it slowly. The door opens on well oiled hinges making almost no sound.

Chip makes his way into the hall salamander style his beefy arms providing his sole means of locomotion. Looking back towards the rear of the house he sees nothing but darkness. While upfront his chair sits pushed into a corner the large China hutch now lays on its side partially blocking the door. Mixed in with the slivers of smashed China is the dark shape of his father’s gun. The most troubling sight he can see is the front door sitting which stands open wide enough to see the empty yard. There is light blending into the pre dawn sky outside bringing a sigh of relief from Chip. He wavers seeing the early day Sun ready to return to its rightful place in the sky. Instead of backing down Chip pulls himself free of the closet gently closing the door. He moves on his hands to the living room forsaking his wheelchair for the time being. “They’re coming for you kid.” Tessa speaks over her shoulder without turning to look at Chip. The ghoul who had saved him twitches beset by the ticks that signaled her body leaving it‘s current state. “Wh … what?” He stutters. “Those animals are gathering in the street as we speak. I tried to hide you two as long as I could but I fear they caught your scents somehow.” “Thank you Tessa.” He drags he name from his mouth. “Why …why did you save us? Why didn’t you kill us?” The female silhouette hunches its shoulders. “I don’t know it hurt me not to. What I assumed to be my new instincts were tearing me apart from the inside out.” Chip summons up the courage to enter deeper still into the living room coming up behind Tessa. He watches her turn the orange glittering flecks playing in her eyes. Something was different Chip gasps aloud upon seeing her face. The ghoul’s cheeks are streaked with thick glistening orange tears. “I don’t want to be an abomination I want to die ….. For good this time the way it is meant to be.” The sky continues to brighten like a window shade being drawn slowly up. “Puuuut …..Meeee Doooownnnn.” Tessa moans. Her eyes having gone milky white any sign of the beast that had protected him was gone. The zombie plods on unsteady feet arms outstretched reaching down for Chip sunshine peaking in through the curtains behind it. The dead woman is almost upon him before he snaps to Chip lashes out with his left hand. He grabs the leg of a glass topped cocktail table snatching it across the floor. He drives the table into the zombie’s legs with all the force his toned arm can produce. Chip scurries backwards as the dead woman teeters at the end of the table. The uncaring walking corpse pitches forward crashing face first through the table. Tessa the zombie lies still finally achieving the peace in true death she’d sought a jagged shard of glass driven though he eye socket protruding from the back of her skull. Chip barely has time to register the scene before the first chorus of moans breaks the silence. A thump from the porch out front spurs the crippled boy into action. Chip launches himself across the floor crawling on his hands trailing his almost useless legs. Coming around the corner into the hall Chip can see the undead gathering at the base of the stairs. He doesn’t hesitate moving over the broken dishes Chip lays his weight into the overturned hutch. It scrapes across the floor pressing the door closed. He searches the floor for the pistol with his free hand. The door rattles as it’s pounded from the other side. The wails of the undead soon fill the air as Chip comes up with the pistol. He presses back the cabinet with all the strength he can muster. “Chip what’s going on?” Belinda yells from a crack in to door. “B get back in there and lock that door now!” He screams until she slams the door and he hears the lock click. He wonders how long he can hold back the dead as their numbers grow. From the rear of the dimly lit house the sound of shattering glass. Chip aims the pistol down the darkened hall as zombies now launch an assault from both ends of the house.

Well we bet you didn't see that one coming. The two James children have survived the night with the help of a most unlikely ally. They now find themselves back where they started trapped by zombies who are unyielding and beyond reason.

Comeback the week of March 24th to see what happens in Chapter 28 of The Living Dark.

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Sincerely:

The Living Dark

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Chapter 26: Wrong Turn

Little Belinda James sits bubbling in her big brother’s lap. The idea of spending time with her big brother Chip even if it was during the zombie apocalypse seemed to make her smile even brighter. She holds onto his neck tightly smiling as Chip's arms pump rhythmically rolling his wheelchair as fast as he can down the smooth two lane road. B as her family called her had a full tilt case of hero worship when it came to her big brother she didn't see his handicap like the rest of the world. She thought it was awesome he always had a place for her to sit and talk. "Hold on B." Benjamin junior huffs glancing back every few seconds. He keeps his eyes moving on the lookout for zombies both those they had left behind and those they have yet to encounter. "Ok Chippy!" B smiles brushing her sand colored curls from her face. "I'm not scared Chip really I'm not." She beams nestled in place on her brother’s lap. Chip's mind races "good at least one of us shouldn't be." He thinks to himself as a late summer breeze whips his shoulder length hair out behind him. The only thing Chip wants in life right now is to round the curve up ahead and coast up to the front of the farmhouse. He feels exposed and alone without the protection of his family. The real terror was the Sun dropping rapidly to the west for when the sunsets some of the dead around these parts learn a few new tricks. Zombies start running, talking and murdering the living with psychopathic zeal just to name a few. Chip powers up to the bend in the road so focused he couldn’t put his finger on what was out of place until it was to late. "Jesus Christ." He shouts aloud startling his little sister. The road begins a gradual sloping curving away from the farmhouse and other survivors with the James clan. Instead of banking to the right the road rolls on to the left to a steep incline. Before he knows it gravity has Chip's wheelchair firmly in it grasp pulling them down the slope.

He'd blindly throttled the chair like racehorse his momentum propels him into the turn. Chip didn't dare stop the chair for fear of pitching them both to the ground. This would likely result in serious injuries to them both. Chip takes time to ponder their situation coming down the slope he sees a vast subdivision to their right ringed by mountains in the distance. A few houses were burning and he observes dozens of shuffling mobs the undead were milling about waiting on their next living meal. The subdivision was situated in a massive oval road intersected by a multitude of side streets crisscrossing north to south or east to west spread out over miles. "Chip I'm scared now ok?" Belinda whines. "I want mommy and daddy can we turn around pleeeease?!" This declaration came complete with fat tears the kind only a little girl can generate meandering down her chubby cheeks. "I can't B if I stop us we will flip over plus there's no way I can roll back up this hill." Chip notices to their left are barren farm fields they barrel on down the slope. Chip watches great plumes of black smoke dance on the horizon. He knows this is the city they had narrowly escaped. “Daddy will come get us I know he will Chip. “ Belinda sniffles wiping her nose on Chip‘s stained shirt. It was to close to nightfall Chip is painfully aware that if his dad was coming they would have seen or heard them by now. Oddly enough he was worried that they were alright as he jets towards the nightmare that awaits him and Belinda. There is an intersection where the subdivision’s main road lets out onto the road at the base of the hill he has currently found himself on. His hazel eyes behold a more pressing concern at the base of the incline a pile up of smashed cars. They are fast approaching a horrifying scene littered with dead bodies both the walking and more traditional prone varieties. Zombies swarm about most hunching greedily over mauled bodies tearing of flesh to devour. Chip senses his breath quickening in spite of himself wanting to appear brave for his baby sister. Chip has spent the better part of his life assessing situations from the perspective of a paraplegic. Speeding down the hill heading straight for a massive tangled of ruined vehicles of every sort. Chip has to assess which threats he needs to avoid and in what order. “Have to avoid zombies and jagged metal in that order.” He runs down to himself. “B hug my chest don’t look up if we go we go together.” The small girl nods her understanding placing her wet face against her brother’s muscular chest as instructed. Two thing cross Chip’s mind first he has only one chance for his plan to work as he descends the hill. Second if it comes down to it he would have to kill his baby sister to spare her being torn apart.

The road slowly levels out but Chip doesn’t reduce his speed nor does he reach for one of his weapons. The pistol his dad had given him and his lucky mallet is tucked on either side of him in the sleek blue wheelchair. He couldn’t fight his way through this deadly obstacle course. So Chip chooses to attempt slalom past the dead silently he plots a course through the wreckage now it was just a matter of timing. Holding his breath he guides his chair past a group of zombies gathered over the corpse of an unfortunate police officer. The only thing the dead notice is a gust of wind as they blew by. A sharp turn and Chip maneuvers his wheelchair up a diagonal row of intertwined cars. It was here that his hands slip on the thin black wheels of his chair. They are gooey we he is rolling through blood and human viscera some fresh and some days old. With out slowing he wipes both hands quickly on his pant’s leg. Chip shudders feeling the occasionally chunk of flesh press into his palms. They whiz through the ragged metal corridor turning left at an over turned white and red ambulance. Chip ducks low passing a line of cars he has found the opening at the end of the pile up. He almost stops short seeing the teenage boy in the skinny jeans from behind. The young zombie rocks back and forth in place from this angle he appears to be a normal disenfranchised teen. Chip sticks with his plan of not stopping making one adjustment on the fly. “B stick out both your legs straight hold ok?” He instructs his sister. The small biracial girl complies with her brother’s command instantly. Chip doesn’t slow down with his little sister acting as a battering ram. They hit the unsuspecting zombie Belinda’s feet connect squarely between its back pockets. The walking corpse stumbles unsteadily forward tripping its head strikes the roof of a black sedan. The zombie’s head hits with such force it leaves a circular dent in the car’s roof. “What was that? “ B asks with out uncovering her eyes. “Nothing now keep your eyes closed B. “Chip says absently trying to keep himself focused. From the road above Chip noted once he past through there was an opening the nearest zombies were all well down the road. Chip zooms through the last scattered vehicles outlining the densest part of the pile up. Ahead a white pick up truck sits its driver’s door open it’s covered in dried crimson handprints like racing stripes. He meant to give the car a wide berth. “Can I look now?” Belinda asked muffled against his chest. “No not yet.” He tells her glancing down at his chest briefly. Without warning they hit something pitching forward violently.

Chip watches helplessly as B tumbles across the ground coming to rest beneath the open truck door. He’s momentarily dazed looking back a dead man with tattered skin hanging from his neck is crawling from under the pick up truck’s rear. This was the cause of his current misfortune clearly he had wheeled right over the zombie‘s outstretched arms. “Shit.” He whispers upset at having taken his eyes off where he was going. “B …. B!” He calls quietly to his little sister noticing an abrasion now running from her temple to the middle of her forehead. She sits terrified legs drawn up to her chest rocking. His wheelchair has collapsed closed and sits on the ground between them wheel spinning in the fading sunlight. Chip hears the zombie crawling up behind him scanning the ground he can see the gun up by his sister. The dead man lurches up on all fours lunging for Chip who catches him with a single gloved hand around his damaged neck. The corpse hisses angrily laying its weight on the boy. Ben Jr. looks for his sister zombies from up the road shuffle down up on them. They are drawn by the commotion and closing in on the two warm living humans. The Sun above Ben and his foe suddenly blots out. He looks up Belinda is standing over him and the undead attacker. She has the pistol pointing at the now moaning zombie her tiny finger straining to pull the trigger back. Knowing the safety is on the pistol Chip yanks it from her grasp with his free hand. He clubs the zombie with the butt of the weapon never letting go of its neck. His blows are swift and powerful the zombie doesn’t cease its attack until he crushes it skull. Chip tosses the bloodied zombie off of him its brains now dribbling from a gaping wound in the side of its head. Chip struggles to right himself as the corpse flops to the ground he hears the familiar tingle of metal against the ground. A key ring has fallen from the dead man’s pocket. A look back at the gathering horde Chip grabs the keys up from the ground. “Is the truck empty upfront B?!’ He yells pointing to the bleeding little girl cautiously she scampers a few feet up and peers cautiously into the trucks open cab. “Yes she calls back.” Looking around for the first time Belinda James notices the dead as deep moans signal their lethal intent. “Grab my chair and get in now.” Ben screams pulling himself forward across the ground. “I wanna help you Chip.” She wails reaching for her brother. “No! Belinda Madison James you get in there now!” He stabs the air with his finger employing his mother’s trick of calling B by her full name. It works the girl begins to struggle with the cumbersome chair into the trucks wide cab.

Surveying the scene Chips tucks his arms in rolling under the pickup. He grabs the lucky mallet before rolling gracefully back out from under the truck. Belinda screams Chips comes to rest against a pair of battered work boots belonging to a large zombie attempting to work its way into the cab after Belinda. The corpse looks down growling at Chip. From flat on his back he raises the pistol thumbs off the safety and fires. The shot sends a round through the zombies chin blowing is brains out the top of its head in chunks. Chip sits up in time to let the zombie hit the pavement behind him. In one motion Chip ignores the zombies encircling their position flips the mallet into the cab with Belinda. With gun in one hand and keys in the other he uses the dead man as a step to reach the door. Using both the door and driver’s to pull himself up by flexing the toned muscles in his well developed arms. With one heave Chip lifts his body up his legs dangle uselessly for the time being he lowers his body into the driver’s seat. The rest is routine he pulls his legs using his pants legs into the truck slamming the door in advance of the first wave of the undead. He cranes under the steering column with his left hand jabbing the keys in the ignition. Belinda begins to scream Chip hadn’t realized the window on his door was down until the female zombie seizes his shirt collar. Crossing his right hand over his body he shots her in the face without looking up and turns the key. The engine rattles to life Chip sits up hitting the switch to close the window in advance of a new set of hands. With his hands shaking he presses the lock button securing the cab. He becomes aware of the eyes on him as one zombie simply presses its decimated face to the window. “I’m gonna eat both you assholes. You kicked me into that damn car.” The dead teen sporting a crushed nose and forehead smirks. The Sun has gone down Chip steals a look up to see the ribbons of orange light dancing menacingly across the purple night sky. “Fuck you ugly this meal on wheels has left the building.” Chip grins dropping the truck into drive jamming his foot on the gas. The diesel powered pickup truck blast forward through the crowd of broken bodies with ease. Zombies are catapulted in the air while dozens more are simply run over. A body hits the windshield causing it to spider web. Chip drives over the grass into the subdivision avoiding a pack of zombies moving in for the kill from the sub division. Chip clips a white wooden sign that reads “Welcome to Clow Oaks” losing the passenger side mirror.

A loud thump in the bed of the truck catches Chip off guard. “Over here we got two!” The teenage ghoul shouts hanging on to the trucks roof like a leech. They fishtail in the soft grass Chip fight to keep the truck headed straight. They hop the curb B bouncing wildly I her seat. Back on paved roads Chip can handle the powerful engine of the pickup a little better. “Hey little girl I’m going to peel your skin off.” The zombie cackles glaring in the back widow. Chips jams on the brakes the zombie’s face is plasters across the back widow. “You’re not touching her ass wipe.” Chip yells in anger forcing the gas pedal down their truck rockets forward once more trailing an ever growing mob of the living dead. Their unwanted undead friend is thrown roughly about the bed of the truck. “Well lookie lookie what I found.” The dead teen shouts rising to his feet in the truck bed again. “Hey everybody we got fresh meat here a cripple and a kid.” Chip hears a siren blare after the nimble zombie has its say then they hear electronic crackle. Looking in the rear view mirror Chip sighs his dad was right about ‘catching a break.’ “Great he found a damn bullhorn.” Chip shakes his head driving deeper into the housing development he takes notice of the fact dead are thinning out. Chip bides his time waiting for the ghoul to relax its grip. Raising his head to shout skyward Chip takes the opportunity to stamp down on the brake his feeble gimp leg straining. His foe is propelled over the front of the pickup through the warm night air. Landing in a heap on the ground in front of the idling truck the zombie pulls it shattered body up but not in time to escape the grille and its “Ford” logo. They bounce over the corpse with the bullhorn still in it‘s grasp. Chip savors his moment to long he doesn’t see the stationary fire truck until it’s too late to avoid the collision. Instinctively he throws his right hand over his sister as the truck absorbs the punishing blow. The airbags deploy in an instant saving them both. Chip beats the deflating bag into submission looking about they are still in advance of the pursuing dead. He backs the crumpled white pickup back it moves begrudgingly. He puts the truck in drive once more. “Are you alright B?” Chip asks eyes still on the road. “Yes Chip just get us back to mom and dad I’m scared now.” He nods solemnly at her request.

Driving the mangled truck down the road Ben junior heads for the lesser populated back lot of the Clow Oaks subdivision. He is painfully aware the truck is on its last legs and won’t make it back to the farmhouse on the hill. After several torturous minuets they come up to the rear of the housing development. The truck is rattling as it turns down the darkened streets sluggishly. With a rush of steam the trucks engine dies it coasting silently up onto a lawn its bumper tapping a large tree. Chip flings his door wide grabbing his wheelchair opening it a dropping it down in one clean motion. “Grab the lucky mallet.” He orders Belinda plopping down in the chair. He tucks the gun away scanning the streets they are alone for now. Belinda leaps from the truck lucky mallet in hand right into her brothers arms. They abandon the truck and set out down the empty street. Chip’s arms burn the same way a cross country runner feels strain in their legs. Feeling the burn each push he makes is agonizing he doesn’t stop or slow down. The frantic siblings pass a several houses from the sidewalk each menacingly dark. “We need to get in one quick.” He tells himself aloud. “Over here…” a voice shouts whispers from one of the houses. Chip spins his chair about his eyes comes to rest on the next house up. The curtains are parted slightly in the plain grey houses expansive bay window. Belinda points twisting Chip‘s head between her small hands “The door is open Chip hurry.” Without hesitation Chip wheels his chair around and heads for the house with renewed vigor. “Hurry before those animals see you.” The voice is a woman’s Chip can hear her clearly now. He flips his chair around pulling himself backwards up the three wooden steps on the front porch Belinda bouncing in his lap. They roll into the pitch black house as the sounds of the undead echo from behind them. Belinda gets up closing the door quietly she latches both locks then jumps back into Chip's lap.

“Be quite children here they come filthy animals devouring everything in their path.” The woman speaks from her front room. Chip and Belinda sit in the small foyer a long set of stairs leading to the houses second level is before them to the right of the staircase a narrow hallway. Outside the screams of the dead fill the once quite street. Zombie moans play as background music to the screeching ghouls running about. “Check every fucking house.” Someone screams from the street. Chip pulls his wheelchair backward pressing it against the door he deploys both brakes. He pulls the lucky mallet free first then his dad’s pistol. His breathing has yet to slow down B buries herself in Chips chiseled chest. “They are coming up on the porch children …” The woman says her tone so low it’s almost in audible. “There was two of them weren’t there?” A voice asks from the front porch the door knob jiggles as something tries it from the other side. “Hell yeah I hear one of’em was like a kid.” Another voice exclaims gleefully. “Man I can’t wait I want to eat a kid so bad.” The first voice responds for the porch. “I almost caught me one the other day but I was too slow. I fucking hate changing back to a dumbass during the day.” The things outside on the porch breakout into a sick laughing fit together. “Hey is that one empty ….” A distant shout inquires. “Yeah doors locked stupid.” One of the figures walking across the creaking porch responds. Chip’s heart skips a beat “they are working together.” He thinks sitting rigidly with deeper fear than he has ever known. The footsteps leave the porch and the conversations become distant. “Check the woods out back …” is the last thing they hear clearly. “We should be safe now children.” Woman comes closer Belinda slowly relaxes placing her hand over her nose. “Ma’am my name is Ben and this is my little sister Belinda. You saved our lives for sure. I can’t tell you what it means to us that you helped us out.” The woman’s footsteps come closer. “No problem …” She chuckles from the front room. “I can tell you what it means to me.” The tall lean woman appears silhouetted in the doorway to the living room. “It means I don’t have to share.” She snarls setting her orange flecked dead eyes on the pair as black blood drips from her mouth.

Wow things aren't looking up for for Chip and Belinda James. The siblings have become separated from the rest of their group of survivors. With zombies all about Chip manages to get he and B to a house after a harrowing ordeal. The only problem is they have been lured into said house by a ghoul who knows full well what she's doing.

Want to know what happens next? Chapter 27 will be up the week of March 17th come back and see us then.

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The Living Dark

Monday, February 18, 2013

Chapter 25: Divided and Conquered

"What?!" Ben screams in a panic nearly dropping Anne in the process. "Shh keep it down." The young man holding the Uzi like a cliché' Hollywood thug chides. "Keep it down?!" “My Lord Chip ... Belinda are out there alone.” Anne whines. Locket is at their side with a look of concern. "Mr. and Mrs. James what seems to be the problem?” She asks cautiously eyeballing the boy with the dirty dreads. His right arm is heavily bandaged with dirty white gauze from bicep to forearm. Locket takes note this part of the development does not please her. Ben moves into the house's spacious living room then he's struck by a breath taking foul odor. Scanning the room he sees everyone else has something pulled up over their noses. Ben finds a clean looking couch where he places Anne. "It's Chip and B they're lost that road goes down into a sub division not up to the front of the house as we thought. We've gotta go Carson, Locket, Jamal come on!" Ben whirls back to the front door the boy now blocks their way as he stands guard in the tiny foyer. "Hold on sir we don't have time for this." The Rasta kid cautions the group. "Don't have time? What the hell do you mean kid get out of my way." Ben bull stomps forward as the young man raises his Uzi. "Dude stop everybody drop y’alls guns on the floor now.” He waves his gun about the room tilted sideways the way the movies had shown him was "cool" his hand clearly shaking. "Hey you people are crazy we can't be up here." He shouts peering back at the barred front door. "Look I swear I will help you find your kids in the morning as soon as the sun comes up." Anne clutches her terrified son all the while watching as her husbands face contorts in anger. "Look boy I don't know what your issue is but you're going to have to kill me to keep me in this house.” Ben blurts seething with rage he reaches for the pistol in his waistband. His hand comes back empty realizing he gave his to pistol to Chip. "I could kill you man I could do it right now bro or you could go out this door and grab the wrong zombies attention. Then you'll be killing us all so your kids versus everybody here man you decide."

The nervous boy brushes twisted matted dreadlocks out of his face. "Look dude you look like you reaching fo your piece and it aint there. Did you give it to one of your kids? Think did you hear any shots before you came in I didn't?" Ben thought back he hadn't heard any shots. "Yeah I gave it to my son and I didn't hear any shots but forgive me. Let's make it clear I don't want to leave my wheelchair bound son and my eight year old daughter outside with the undead overnight." The dazed young man steps in from the foyer cautiously. "Look Mister I pray your son is resourceful. There are plenty of places they can hideout until morning down there in Clow Oaks. Most of them houses were foreclosed on to begin with so there weren't many folks living down there." Locket slides in from the side but the kid whirls pointing the semi automatic pistol at her. "Easy now..." Locket holds her hands out stepping back. "What did you mean when you said 'grab the wrong zombies attention' a few minuets ago and what is that ungodly smell?" Taking a few seconds to steal a glance back outside the he comes into the living room. "Look I can explain everything but we have to get down stairs guys." He says Ben glares at the boy with disgust. "I'm not leaving nor am I going down stairs and locking myself away with someone whose been bitten. I know what will happen tonight as soon as the Sun sets you're going to come back as one of those smart zombie things. As far as I am concerned son you're a dead man. So weather I kill you now to get to my son or you drop dead in a few hours it doesn’t matter to me.” Apprehension ripples through those gathered in the living room. Fear that this stand off will end badly seems to linger about the room like that ungodly foul odor. The dreadlocked young man pauses before cocking the slide menacingly on the sub machine pistol. "Give me five minuets in my cellar .... Umm I didn't catch your name before you threatened to kill me Sir." Ben's jaws clench bulging up and down "Benjamin James" he squeezes out. "Well Mr. James people around these parts call me White Magic." The entire room full of survivors stops in one motion most have that confused tilted head look a dog gives off when a passing mirror. "If you kind folks will hustle down this here hallway I will enlightened you once we get downstairs." He motions with the gun still aimed at Ben and no one moves. "Ben..." Anne calls hobbling up from the couch. Ben runs over and catches her just as she tumbles forward he lifts her up into his arms once more. "Look give him five minutes honey because he seems pretty unreasonable now and none of us has guns at this point." Ben nods his thick head the tears welling up in corners of her eyes softens his heart. Ben looks to those gathered around waiting for him to speak. "Alright guys we give Vanilla Ice here five minuets then if he's not making sense we snap his scrawny neck and go get my kids."

Ben lets his words hang in the air before starting down the hallway as instructed. "Brandon come on son." He calls the boy who is still seated on the couch. Slowly the survivors begin to move Jamal, Bianca and the kids move in step behind the James'. They head down the dark rickety hallway the old cherry wooden floorboards creaking underfoot. The house is well built but very old underneath the dreadful odor that dusty old people smell lingers about the house. "Now hook a left go down them stairs then hang a right at the bottom." White Magic's voice calls from the rear of the line. Moving as instructed the group descends into a dank musty knick knack filled basement. Spider webs cling to old discolored wooden joist. Down here in this cluttered storage area Ben is struck at the disorganization. His basement by comparison had been an immaculate extension of his house. From above them the sound of the man bolting the door at the top of the stairs shut. “Everybody get in a group away from the base of the stairs.” White Magic calls as he glides down the stairs still wearing sunglasses in the nearly pitch black basement. “Look we said we’d listen to you Vanilla Ice so there’s no need to keep threatening us.” Ben says moving with his people into a tight group away from the bottom off the stairs. “That’s another thing old dude who the fuck is Vanilla Ice man. You keep saying that like its funny or something.” White Magic says rounding the base of the stairs. Ben comes to the self realization that other he, Anne and Bianca nobody else probably was old enough to remember Vanilla Ice. “Look it up when you get the chance. I’m sure you’ll find it enlightening.” Ben tells the boy shuffling Anne in his arms. “Hummm I’ll do that brother and for your sake it’d better be amusing or some shit like that.” With that the lanky young man whips his dreaded up hair from his eyes. His hands search the top of the earthen wall that runs flush along the staircase. There’s a soft click White Magic leans all of his weight against the wall. With a bump a six foot slab of wall ratchets in about a foot bringing a soft shaft of light into the basement. With practiced ease he rolls the wall section upward heavily favoring his wounded right arm. “Welcome to my home away from hell.” White Magic smiles motioning down the dirt walled dimly lit tunnel. “Com’on in everybody just head through the door at the end of the tunnel. The passageway is very old reeking of wet earthy mildew. Ben thinks as he takes the first cautious steps on the packed dirt. He has to turn sideways in order to fit and not bump Anne’s poor foot. “Hey before y’alls ask this wasn’t no stop on the Underground Railroad or nuttin.” Their host chuckles behind them. “Ben …” He hears Bianca’s soft voice whisper to from immediately behind him. “This doesn’t feel right.” Her words surround him in the dusty air. “You don’t have to tell me …” He responds “None of this feels right Bianca.” Ben stops at a thick rusted door using his booted foot he attempts in vain to move the heavy door. Turning his back to the steel door he presses his full weight against it. The door groans on its antique hinges a crack opens the tunnel is awash in a bright fluorescent light. Ben is dumbfounded by the sight that greets him.

Ben is blinded momentarily by the intense white light washing over him he turns sideways to avoid bumping any part of Anne on the rusty door. "What the Hell" Ben gasps at the sight before him. Stopping in place Ben looks over rows and rows of healthy green plants running the distance of the twenty foot long bunker. Lengths of tube weave in and around the plant tanks like a clear boa constrictor pumping water into the hydrophobic plant system. The two most prominent sounds in the underground den are that of bubbling of water and the hum of electrical motors running. From behind Ben feels Brandon push forward. "Daaaad..." the boy whines. “Oh I’m sorry son.” Ben walks deeper into the room allowing the others to pile in behind him. "Welcome to my farm ...." White Magic pronounces strolling into the room like a game show host his arms spread wide. Locket is a blur snapping the gun from the boy limp grip while throwing an elbow to the side of his head finishing him with a leg sweep. White Magic’s designer sunglasses go flying across the floor. He’s on the ancient weathered cement floor for at least fifteen seconds before his drug addled mind realizes it. "Sit still Mr. Magic I'd take great pleasure in shooting you right about now." Sara Locket says crunching a boot down on White Magic wrist. Ben is literally stunned by the speed and ferocity the girl used to put the armed man on his back. "Mr. Magic I like that." White Magic mumbles from the floor rubbing the side of his slowly swelling head. "Hold on Locket." Ben blurts his head moving as he scans the room. He finds a set of three new clean wooden creates against the wall. “Let him have his say Locket so we can get back down here once we leave.” Ben tells the soldier as he places Anne down on a create Brandon moving through the crowd to his mother's lap. "Fair enough Jamal ..... Carson double time it back upstairs and secure all of our weapons.” Locket doesn't look up as the two men take off at a sprint back down the dirt tunnel. "Tell'em to pull that metal bar at the bottom' o the door I aint lock it." White Magic offers up as he attempts to sit up but Private Locket doesn't take her weight off White Magic’s hand. "Owwwww owwww ouch!" the young man shouts in protest dreads covering his face. Down the tunnel they hear the noise of the door being raised. "Come'on chick I wasn't gone hurt none y'all. I just don't wanna turn to one of the damn things." Locket steps back off White Magic's hand but keeps the gun leveled at his forehead." Ben comes through the crowd to get closer to the young man who seems to fade in and out of his street tough persona. "You've been bit fool there's nothing you can do to stop that now." He tells White Magic looking around. "What the hell is this place? Is this stuff edible?" Ben asks. "Man I was bit more day ago when this crap all started. My gran pa and his boys tired to throwin up a road block to prevent outsiders getting into town. I'm sure y'all done past it on the way in I hear it was a bloodbath. He came home that night and tore off on me and my gran ma as soon as the Sun set she aint makes it though. That‘s that shit y‘all done smelt upstairs my gran ma and grand pa! Them dead things they hate the smell of their kin rotting. It‘s like a signal that there‘s nuttin alive in here." Locket and Ben cast quick glances at one another. "Are you saying you survived through the night after you were bitten kid?" Ben rubs his chin feeling Bianca's eyes crawl up his back. In his mind he believes for a brief second he killed an innocent man when he and Chip had dispatched her husband Carl that first night after The Event.

“Yeah I survived wasn’t nuttin but luck though dog I tell you.” White Magic pulls himself up off the floor slowly leaning his weight on one of the greenhouse tables. “Relax Whitey …” Locket scoffs never taking her eyes of their host. “Welcome to the U.S. headquarters of White Magic Holistic Pharmaceuticals.” He says waving his arms about as if he’s giving a tour. “I’m a freelance supplier of fine recreational and medical marijuana. I popped a few caps in my grans then I retreated down here after getting’ bit by my gran pa.” “How do you still have power down here? “ Private Medina asks softly from besides Anne James. “Oh we got solar panels on the roof of the house sweetheart. Plus there’s a wind turbine on the back of our property. Growin’ weed takes a shitload of power and if you wants to keep yo local power utility company from tricking you out to Johnny Law. You have to produce your own power. It didn’t take me long to convince my gran pa that it would save him money. Who knew I was actually prepping for the zombies apocalypse. “ He chuckles to himself just then heavy footsteps drum down the tunnel accompanied by huffing as Jamal and Private Carson come into view. “Hey close that damn door are you boys crazy!” White Magic screams retreating further back into his shelter. Locket keeps pace with him refusing to lower the Uzi she has aimed White Magic. “No!” Ben calls out “You tell me what you know and then I can rally my people to go get my kids.” White Magic looks pained as he paces the rear of the long room squeezing his heavily bandage right forearm. “Look Sir the truth is as simple as it is ugly.” White Magic begins to speak with no trace of an accent or broken English. His eyes dart about like a cornered animal brimming with fear. As a second thought he takes a long neatly rolled joint from an ashtray sitting on a small desk. The tiny small brown desk appears to be the kind an elementary school teacher would sit behind. It is covered with scales, small plastic baggies, a dusty laptop and two radios. The first was an ancient black box with a silver microphone literally straight out of RadioShack’s 1982 fall circular. The other radio was a ruggedized military styled hand held model. “Do you mind?!” Bianca shouts pulling a cover over baby Cammy who immediately starts fussing under the cover. “Oh sorry Ma’am force of habit I’m not used to company down here.” White Magic says tamping out the joint then flipping his dreads up over his head. “Uh… Sir the only reason I’m still alive is because of these ultraviolet light down here.” Everyone looks about the room noticing the huge floodlights two per yellow stand dotting the room every few feet. They appeared better suited for nighttime crime scene work than home use and were no doubt part of the reason the room was rather warm. “It seems that I learned this by mistake once I came down here. I dialed up some of my friends on my HAM radio here. Started telling everyone I could that if you get bit and survive get under some ultraviolet lights before nightfall.” He pats the black box like it’s a dog. “So my grandfather was bitten during the day and he survived until night so he became one of those smart one once the sun went down. According to what info I have learned from what’s left of the web and the chatter on the HAM radio. That means if I would have died while the sun was up the next day I would have returned as one of those rotters.” White Magic mimics quotations signs in the air before continuing. “You know the dumb zombies shuffling around out there now but if I had survived to until nightfall then I would have returned as one of those trotters.” He makes his satirical quotation marks once more. “You know one of the smart ones who run around tearing everything up all night and then go dull again when the sunrises the next day.”

Subconsciously Ben looks for Chip in the room the way a person who hears news looks for a kindred spirit who can back them up. Ben kneads his sweaty palms together gritting his teeth this isn’t good news either. “Mr. James do you believe in God?” White Magic asks. Ben glances over at Anne who is sitting forward on the crate. “Yes I do why do you ask?” White Magic straightens up in his rusty metal folding chair. “I suggest you pray to God then sir. Beg him to help your kids to find somewhere safe and quite they can hold up until morning it’s their only chance. If you go up there now Mr. James you will bring hell down upon us. Those trotters will bear down on this house and your people the noise they create will draw rotters from every direction. Also by now any of the smart zombies you encountered today will be hot on your trail as soon as the sun sets. I have heard stories from the folks on my radio here. Hell last night I got to listen to one guy and his family get torn apart because they went to get the dog after it got out. A trotter zombie saw them and that was all it took.” White Magic swallows hard wiping his mouth looking down into the ashtray. “After ….. “he stops to compose himself. “After they finished the family off one of those abominations got on the radio. It started trying to get others to tell it where they were promising to make it easier on them. When no one took its offer the bastard sat there with the microphone open chewing on this guy who we’d just been talking to. All you heard was screams of agony followed by moans, laughter and chewing. I threw up over here by my chair and turned off the radio.” Every face stared at White Magic who suddenly looked spent. He stands slowly wobbling from the blow to his head holding the corner of the desk. Sara Locket doesn‘t back up staring intently she stands near the corner of White Magic’s desk. She is patiently waiting for the wounded man to make the wrong move. The barrel of the gun is less than six inches from White Magic‘s dreadlock covered head.

“My real name is Humphrey Eugene Olmsted ladies and gentlemen and I offer you your two choices Mr. James.” He raises one finger sitting on the desks edge. “One shut that door before one of those things crawls in the house and sniffs us out. Pray for your children Mr. and Mrs. James. First thing in the morning I will help you go look for them.” The second option is less desirable wiggling two fingers. “You and your people go looking for your son and daughter. You get everyone killed and those of us left are almost defenseless against the trotters. So again it’s the two of them versus all of us you decide Mr. James.” Anne gasps aloud falling to the floor wailing out for her babies. Ben moves to her as fast as his feet will carry him to his wife’s side. This time the tears in her eyes match his. Locket steps back a few feet dropping the gun to her side sighing. She didn’t know if Mr. James still planned on going out but she did know that a suicide mission wasn’t on the radar for her tonight. She feels the James’ heartbreak as she attempts to suppress her own emotions. “Cl….” Her voice betrays her Private Locket turns to wipe her eyes discreetly she catches Private Carson staring at her his mouth hangs open like a flytrap. “Close’em…” she utters moving back up to the front of the bunker with her people. The squeaking of the outer wall latching only brings heightened screams from Anne. Carson and Jamal slide in the room pulling the rusty door shut on its aged hinges twisting the massive locking bolt into place. She doesn’t know if Carson is crying or not but it is clear Jamal had tears running freely down both cheeks.

Well it seems like the new addition to our group of survivor Mr. White Magic has a boatload of useful information for the group. Before letting Ben run off after Chip and Belinda he explained to the survivors how he came to be injured and what might happen if they choose to attempt a rescue mission at night. The group now has a better idea of what they are dealing with when it comes to the new breed of zombies they face. The "Rotters and Trotters" as White Magic calls them operate by different rules. Now the real dilemma face the James Clan is finding out if Chip and Belinda can survive the night. This too is the real dilemma for you readers as well.

We will take our first break of 2013 so tune back in the week of March 10th for Chapter 26 and we can all find out what become of Chip and Belinda together.

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The Living Dark

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Chapter 24: Foot Race

The survivors in their battered chariot speed down the road along side of the house. The first hitch in the engine Chip feels the steering get tight. "We're tapped Dad!” Chip screams as the van goes into a fuel less glide. "Shit." Ben shouts. "Pack it up everyone we're on foot." Locket dives into the vans rear grabbing her pack. "Chip grab the keys out the ignition and meet us around back.” Ben tells his son before retreating into the van's chaotic belly. "Mr. James should I stay here and help Chip get out the van?” Jamal asks. Ben sees his son has already flung the door open and deposited his wheelchair on the asphalt below. "No come with me." Jamal snags the rifle from between the seats and does as instructed. The occupants of the disabled van move about in a frenzied state. "Jamal grab some bags of supplies please and then pair up with Bianca help her and grab Dakota please." Jamal snatches up as many bags as he can and moves over to Bianca. At the same moment the vans rear doors fly open. Every gun snaps to in shock fearing the worse. "Come on all of you able bodied people." Chip shouts up from his chair Locket doesn’t realize she’s staring at Chip until it’s embarrassingly obvious. "B go with your big brother until we get down." Anne calls out to her baby girl. The sandy haired little girl gleefully jumps down off the bumper into her big brothers lap. Locket hits the ground rifle at the ready. "No sign of our pursuers yet Mr. James that won’t last for long. Pretty soon we are going to be knee deep in zombies.” Carson climbs down with his pack before lifting Medina back onto his shoulders effortlessly. Next Jamal hops down with Dakota in his arms he still turns to offer Bianca Fullerton a hand assisting her down. Ben crab walks down the rear of the van with Anne in his arms and Brandon hot on his tail. Ben leaps down and the van bounces as the husky mans weight is offloaded. "Brandon close the doors.” Ben tells his son to secure the van now they are all off and it's stripped of anything useful. The crowd gathered before Ben stands facing the house in the distance unmoving. "Move people..." He demands pushing to the front. He sees soft barren plowed farmland leading to the side of the white porch on the big farm house. There's no sidewalk or level surface Ben catches Carson’s none to subtle glance at Chip in his chair. "My God..." Ben mutters to himself Anne squeezes him tight around his neck.

Chip rolls his chair through the gathered crowd. "For people with functioning legs you guys sure move slow.” He then looks across the half mile of overturned soft earth. "Dad ..." Ben cuts Chip off mid sentence. "Don't worry son don't worry we can." Ben spins about whacking Anne's injured foot hard on the stock of the rifle Jamal carries. "Dad!" The boy shouts his father down. "I'll take B wheel up the road and round that bend." He motions off in the distance to a bend in the road which curves behind a small red barn.” The protest from his family is immediate. "No son we don't split up…” Chip glances over his shoulder back the way they'd left the zombies. "We don't have time Dad plus you have mom to carry and Brandon. You guys just get moving and when you get there meet us at the front of the house and help get me up the porch.” Ben doesn't like the idea but he knows the boy is right. "Everyone run now get to the house." He orders the crowd of stagnate survivors. "Come on little man." Locket says smiling reaching for Brandon's hand. The boy looks to his parents "Go hurry Brandon." Anne tells her youngest son tears welling up in her eyes. The pair takes off sprinting behind the others. "Look son..." Ben starts to say but his words won't come. He has long blamed himself for his son’s condition and never has the weight been greater than today. Anne has her head buried in her husband chest. Ben shifts Anne in his arms tugging the pistol in his waistband free he hands it to Chip. His hand lingers rubbing the boy’s smooth cheek. "Me next." little Belinda giggles which Ben Sr. obliges. "Listen to your brother." His voice cracks and Ben turns away. "Dad go take care of mom you're slowing me down." Chip smiles pressing the gun down between his leg and chair opposite "The Lucky Mallet." He pirouettes the chair up on its two back wheels then vanishes behind the van.

Ben repositions his wife and takes off trudging over the field trailing everyone else. Woefully out of shape but driven by fear and determination Ben huffs up the incline carrying his wife. By comparison the much younger Carson has already made it to the house lowering Medina down he takes up his weapon. Looking in the distance Carson is satisfied having seen none of the undead come into view from down the road. He tugs Medina around the corner with him as he goes disappearing from sight. After what feels like an eternity Ben makes it through the field. Ben’s old out of shape legs burning from being pressed into use after so long. They follow Brandon and his new buddy Private Locket. Ben slams heavily against the house sweat dancing down his neck and back. He drags his body along the house rounding the porch stealing a quick glance back. In the miles behind them the first zombies comes around the corner on unsteady legs. More walking corpses emerge from the thicket of trees they’d used for cover. Ben's heart smashes against his ribcage as he ducks out of view. He scans the road for Chip meaning to set his wife down and go get his children. He's dumbfounded Chip in his wheelchair and Belinda is nowhere to be found. "Dammit" He shouts moving to the cluster of people on the porch. "What Ben what?!" Anne cries aloud in his arms. "Nothing Chip is already around the bend." He says feeling the woman in his arms relax somewhat. Ben moves to the bottom of the stairs and begins to climb up. Carson supporting Medina's slumping mass pounds the door mercilessly. Ben can hear the door rattling in its frame from the boy’s heavy blows. "Come on open up if you're in here." He shouts scanning the area behind them. "Locket if nobody answers in the next sixty seconds I'm kicking it in." Carson says his gloved hands unleashing another set of blows. "Is any...." The door swings wide mid sentence the black barrel of an Uzi protrudes aimed between Carson's eyes.

"Wooooooo hold on now." He throws his hand up in surrender. "Easy we're not hostiles." Locket says from her familiar kneeling stance having placed Brandon behind her with one arm. The figure of a lean young man emerges nervously from the dark shadows in the old farmhouse. Rocking a head full of blond dreadlocks wearing Rastafarian clothes and dark sun glasses has a smattering of freckles sprinkled on his pale cheeks. "What y'all doin outside man?" The young man asks nervously looking across the front of the property. "Get in y'all makin to much damn noise." Stepping aside he ushers everyone inside the building carelessly waving the machine pistol like a toy. Ben and Anne are the last in line waiting to see Chip and Belinda come up the driveway. "We have to wait Sir our son and daughter are coming he's in a wheelchair and couldn't make it across the field. So he took my daughter down the road and around the barn to make it to the front of your property." The white Rastafarian kid reeking of marijuana leans out the door looking to his left by the barn. "Mister they took that road?" He asks Benjamin pushing his mirrored sunglasses down but Anne answers. "Yes … Yes they did?" The apprehension returning to Anne’s voice Ben feels her grip on his neck tighten. He takes a second to allow his drug clouded mind to process the situation. "That road goes into a sub division at the bottom of a hill not my driveway."

Our group of Survivors have made it to the farmhouse in advance of a stumbling horde of zombies. After much debate The last obstacle before they reach safety is a plowed field that Chip can't wheel his chair across. Chip convinces his parents to allow him and his little sister B to wheel up to the front of the house. The houses occupant comes to the door hearing all the racket only to inform the Anne and Ben James that the road Chip was on doesn't lead to the front of the house. The family is now separated one pair having seemingly disappeared into a sub division. The other is facing down the barrel of a gun from a nervous white Rasta kid. How does this all play out for our survivors come back the and see.

Next Chapter 25 the week of Febuary 17th!

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Sincerely:

The Living Dark

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Chapter 23: Welcome to Clow Falls

"Holy smokes." Carson yelps as Ben turns back to his son he and Locket move to aid Medina. "Look son this is going to be tough on us all. So learn when to say when and rest when you can no one is going to think less of you ok?" Ben says softly Chip looks over at his dad briefly with crumbs clinging to his lips and the fine black hairs sprouting above his top lip. Ben is pushed back into his mind seeing the face of the toddler terrorizing the back of his television cabinet from his walker wheeling freely through the house. In spite of himself Ben reaches up and strokes Chips smooth cheek with the back of his first two fingers. Something simple that had always brought him joy and made his kids smile this time was no different. "Dad you said this was up to us to protect our family you said 'we'." Chip reminds his father. "I'm not going to let you carry me or this burden alone dad." Ben stands hunched over patting his son on the back. "I know you won't son." He stops almost forgetting Jamal. "How are you doing Jamal? I'm so sorry about you're parent’s son." Jamal smiles broadly back up at Benjamin James. "I'm fine sir and I'm sorry for what happened earlier." "No problem son it's ok ultimately you did the right thing." Ben moves back into the bay of the van where Locket and Carson gently hoist their unit mate up to a seated position. "Medina how are you feeling girl?” Locket quizzes snapping her fingers in front of the woozy girl’s face "Like shit." The girl croaks out as she attempts to reach up to her forehead. "Umm you might not want to do that." Carson cautions her. "Your forehead and the APC's windshield had a little fight and your forehead lost." He tells her jokingly. "Yeah Carson stitched you up Medina so you can take that nice scare up with him and his attorney." Locket jumps into the conversation. "Huh wha?" She speaks just above a whisper. "My head is killing me." Medina wheezes swooning even from a seated position they brace her up. "Ben hand me that blue bag over there quick.” Anne calls out startling her husband. Ben grabs the bag handing it to his wife who sets about rifling through the bag turning over pill bottle after pill bottle. "Got it!" She shouts holding a faded pill bottle up "Vicodin." She looks at Carson "catch." Anne tells the boy before tossing him the pill bottle followed quickly by a small plastic bottle of water. "Thank you Ma'am." He responds popping the top off he notices the faded name on the label "Benjamin James Jr." "Here take these Medina it will help." Carson holds the pills out and Medina with much effort cracks her mouth open slightly. Carson places the pills on her palate then brings the water to her lips. "Take your time Carlita." Locket delicately instructs the injured soldier in her charge. She tilts her head back agony is etched on her face as her fellow soldiers support Medina's head. The girl blinks her brown eyes looking out see those around her for the first time. "Where are we and who are they?" She asks attempting to turn to face Locket. "Well Medina I'm going to give you diet version of our current situation." Locket kneels in Medina face together full attention. "After you backed out we had to dispatch one of those talking zombie things because he was hitting on Carson and trying to get into the APC." Carson goes beet red from the neck up drawing in a breath to protest Locket stifles him with a raised finger. "We took care of you after that and slept in the APC for the night. Then we left the APC looking for another mode of transportation Carson carried you and your weapon. Shortly thereafter we came upon these fine folks driving in our general direction headed for a bridge loaded with zombies." She looks back at Benjamin James "They were kind enough to stop as we held the dead at bay." Locket turns back to Medina. "We climbed aboard they drove and we are in route to a small town named Clow something or other. Hopping this place isn't as dead as every place else got it?" Medina looks confused leaning over to face Carson. "You really get hit on by a zombie?" She asks dazed. "Um yeah sorta like that yeah." Carson continues to blush furiously.

"Mr. James we are passing a sign welcoming us to Clow Falls and our fuel shortage is coming into play again." Jamal shouts back." Unlike their claustrophobic confines from earlier this road is wide open on both sides. The wheat having long since been harvested from the van's windshield the view was unimpeded for miles with the occasional thicket of trees dotting the landscape. "We have a problem dad." Chip reports to his father who is coming up from the back. "Jeez can we just catch one break today?" Ben mumbles to himself peering straight ahead he gets his answer in silent horror. They approach a barricade blocking the road. "So the answer to your question dad is no." Chips says aloud glancing down at the gas needle. They hear the familiar chime of the “low fuel” light sound off like a gong in the enclosed vehicle. Two large pieces of farm equipment block the road leaning against where the two come together nose to nose sits a very large piece of plywood. Spray painted on the clean plywood is an ominous message in hastily scrawled red letters. "Keep Out Clow Falls Safe Zone All Non Residents Will Be Shot On Sight!" The irony was not lost on Ben "Safe zone" he huffs in disgust. Then Chips halts the van's progress about fifty feet from a scene that had all the appearances of a traditional zombie massacre. Dried blood coats the road in huge maroon stains. Chunks of unidentifiable meant dot the roadway scattered into the mix are various gore caked guns mostly shotguns with a few hunting rifles sprinkled in. Tattered clothing and other assortments of humanity one would find after searching your average group of people. Ben's greatest concern is neither the stains nor the line of pickup trucks behind the massive farm equipment. It is the cause of the massacre zombies linger in the road shuffling about aimlessly. Some still one their knees fighting over the last remaining scraps of the poor souls they'd preyed up. "Jesus." Locket says her eyes cast down over the scene before them. "We've got to find a place to hunker down for the night. We can’t cruise the streets in this meat wagon ringing the dinner bell. I say we have two hours at best." Locket's comment is geared toward the impending sunset. "I say we have less time than that." Chip responds looking back to the attractive girl in the fatigues. His comment was aimed squarely at the dead who had finally taken notice of the idling white van. "Hold on back there and be ready to move gather everything up!" Ben hollers turning back to Chip. Ben taps Chips on the arm vigorously. "Over there son quick drive us into the gully.” Ben points down into the culvert running alongside the road. He was more focused on Chip navigating the gully than the zombies waving haplessly as they skidded past on the soft grass.

Driving in a culvert while popularized by Hollywood was a dangerous proposition at best. "Don't mash the gas son you'll fishtail us." Chip isn't breathing as he answers "Yes Dad." "You can't stop either or we'll get stuck." Ben stares ahead. "Yes Dad" Chip replies as they pass the blockade the dead come pouring down from behind the huge tractors. Zombies tumble down the embankment into the gully perusing the van. "I counted maybe twenty or so when we were up top." Locket says holding onto Jamal's seat. "I'm guessing we are we now have between fifty or sixty hostiles Mr. James." She reports scanning the walls of the gully soon the dead ahead of them rain down on the van's roof. Each boom eliciting screams from behind them in the van. "What's you plan Mr. James." Locket asks attempting to get on the same page. "I'm done with plans Locket." He responds without looking at the soldier. "I'm more into consequences now. I don't have time to formulate a plan." Ben finishes up as the bombardment continues. He looks up to his left to see they are past the blockade and the rows of pickup trucks. The dead are quickly filling the culvert in front of them. "Son you need to take this gradual incline back up to the road.” Ben points off to his left up the slope and his son executes on his request immediately. The van using it’s momentum to take the incline mowing down zombies as it goes. Ben watches his son’s driving which is better than he ever thought he could have "handicapped” or not. If he'd known Chip would be the official driver of the zombie apocalypse Ben believes he would've spent more time teaching him. The van crests the incline bouncing heavily back onto the asphalt road. Ben scans the area of flat farmland. Locket hustles through the van to the rear door she grabs the shelf for support and cracks the door open. "Ok we're not done with this yet." She yells back up to the front watching the able bodied zombies in the distance pour around the blockade coming up from both sides of the gully. "They're not giving up that easy and there‘s more of them now." She slams the doors shut and scampers back to the front. Coming up Ben observes a dense thicket of trees to their left and a road running parallel to the tree line. "Turn here Chip we can use the tree line for cover." Ben searches the farmland looking for shelter but Jamal spots it first. "Look a house." Jamal points out the window. Several miles in the distance is a large old home more than likely the farmer who owns the land they've found themselves on. “A big old farm house in the middle of nowhere.” Jamal snorts “Why that’s not cliche at all for people running from zombies is it?” Locket’s mouth turns up at the corners into thin smile "Mr. James we are going to run pass the house and have to come up on it's driveway from the front.” Locket sizes up their prospects. "If we can get to that house and hide the van before the first zombies rounds that corner. Then we have an excellent chance of throwing them off our scent." "Agreed" Ben blurts as they race up next to the house the brilliant orange sun hangs low in the late day sky.

Our survivors have made it to the outskirts of Clow Falls. Their first impressions so far haven't been good and they have picked up a welcoming party. To bad for them it's in the form of a horde of the undead and the vans fuel situation has come back into play. What's next for our survivors as they attempt to outrun the dead and the sunset?

Come back the week of February 10th for the next chapter of The Living Dark.

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Monday, January 28, 2013

Chapter 22: A Lonely Road

Ben jumps up heading to the front of the van Locket shoves past him from behind. He looks to out from Chip’s window coming up to the edge of the road is a thick dense overgrown cornfield. Ben peers to Jamal's side of the van but his view is blocked by the back of Private Locket's head. "Crap it's the same thing over here Mr. James." The late summer untended cornfields encroach the thin two lane road way on both sides. "Alright we need to do this quick and easy." Locket calls moving back into the van yanking the magazine from her rifle. "Carson you and I cover the back Mr. James you, your son and neighbor cover the rear. We keep the doors open, move fast and quite." She slaps the ammo clip back into the black M4 as Carson moves in kneeling besides her at the rear doors. "Hey ... hey "Ben scurries in behind Locket. “Locket this isn't a police state you don't order us around and we don't have to take orders from you." He says producing the pistol from his waistband. "Actually Mr. James I was simply taking the lead as we are the best trained to protect you in this situation." Locket informs Ben James of his oversight. "Also technically you do have to follow my orders if that was my desire. The day of The Event the President declared martial law which essentially puts the entire country under military jurisdiction." Ben James stares at the girl their eyes lock inadvertently he blinks first cursing himself under his breath. Ben retrieves the gas can and positions himself behind the two soldiers. "Jamal can you work that rifle?" Ben points through the cab at the gun propped on the wheelchair between the seats. Jamal grabs the gun clumsily pulling back the slid checking to see if a round has been chambered. "Yeah ... yeah I think I can." He responds his voice cracking slightly. Ben narrows his eyes "Either you can or you can't Jamal I need to know now." He snaps at the young man. "I… I can Mr. James." Jamal fumbles displaying a complete lack of confidence in his own abilities. "Mr. James what about your son this only works if we have a quadrant set up." Ben presses in close on Locket and Carson "My son can't walk or did you miss the wheelchair." He whispers harshly. "I'm sorry Mr. James." Locket replies. "Don't be sorry He's not." Ben tells the soldiers.

Carson grips one door handle while Locket grabs the other. "Ready people?" Locket's breathing slows to a steady rhythm. Ben holds up a hand to Jamal who is looking back from the front. Locket slaps Carson across his back "Go." She says flatly as the both twist their handles in unison. Early afternoon sunlight floods the back of the van the trio steps cautiously from the James and Sons cargo van. The sound of the wind washing through the thick green cornfields is all that greets them on this eerily calm day. The breeze shakes the dry brittle corn stalks the sound like a rattle snake’s rattle but magnified a hundred fold. The events of the last two days have seemingly left this desolate stretch of road unscathed. Ben comes down behind the pair of soldiers who fan out before him. They use hand signals to communicate with each other then Locket ushers him to the side of the van. The fear that Ben had experienced as he'd walked to his Father in Laws front porch settles back into his gut. Ben feels like he's being watched by predators as if he's a field mouse running circles underneath a barn owl for exercise. He stabs his pistol into his waistband there's movement at the van's front. Ben assumes its Jamal taking up his point position. He moves with a purpose unscrewing the gas cap then driving the nozzle home tilting the can up feeling its life saving fuel start to drain into the empty tank. Carson turns staring past Benjamin James' he sees that a corpse has walked from the cornfield and stands swaying looking up at the sky. He kneels down quietly pulling his combat knife free standing to his full intimidating height Carson steps forward knife at the ready. The rustling of the wind against the corn has stopped Carson feels Locket's hand slip around his thick neck covering his mouth. His eyes meet hers in shock silently she purses her lips to quiet Carson. Locket cocks her head to the side sharply Carson's grey eyes follows her line of sight.

Carson’s heart flutters each side of the road is suddenly lined with the undead swaying in place same as the corn once had. They moan softly looking skyward oblivious to the humans present. Carson nods choking on a lump embedded in his throat. Behind Benjamin James where one zombie stood now dozens stand lining the road. Locket releases Carson slowly pulling her hand free she makes a move for Ben. She takes one step then notices Ben glaring at her in terror his eyes wide. Ben shakes his head "no" closing the gas cap painfully slow so as to avoid making a sound. Ben cuts his eyes underneath his arm he notices the van's front door is closed. The gas cap sealed Ben James moves on feet weighted like cement blocks measuring every painful step. In the van he sees his entire family along with the Fullerton's pressed as far up into the van as they can go. He also notices Jamal is in the van as well which means he never got out to begin with. Carson and Locket back down to the open van bay their guns held high. Ben climbs in like a large toddler one big knee at a time. Each of the soldiers takes a door watching the dead sway in place. Carson swings his door shut causing Locket to flinch. Locket shivers as the zombies upturned heads drift down from the sky in unison Locket’s eyes meet those of a ragged female zombie. The two stand frozen in time the female zombie blinks her dirty orange vanilla sherbet tinted eyes. With a lurch the zombie moans and the others up and down the roadside act in sync as if they were following orders. Locket slams her door the time for stealth long since past as hundreds of zombies set upon the stalled van. Ben is already on the move scrambling to the van's front. "Jamal what the hell happened to you?!" he asks. "Mr. James I saw that zombie wander out onto the roadside. I couldn't signal without drawing its attention." He utters his sheepish pleading retort. Ben knows the young man is correct but right now they have bigger problems. "That wasn't the wind rustling through the corn dad." Chip says flatly staring out the window watching the horde advance. "I know son I know." Ben tells his son placing a reassuring hand on the boys arm. "Now turn the van over easy son." He says calmly not taking his eyes off the faces crowding the roadway ahead of them. "We can't let them box us in son or they'll flip us okay?" Chip nods his head slowly indicating his understanding. He cranks the key in the ignition listening to the engine choke then chug without turning over. Benjamin squeezes the boys arm to snap him out of his panic "Easy son don't flood it one more time please." The first blows connect with the van's white exterior. Like a hail storm the first few pelts soon give way to thundering blows battering the van from outside. The wails from the dead fill the air around them. Chip calmly turns the key in the ignition feeling the van's engine churn buck under the hood like an animal caught in a trap. He relaxes his grip on the key just after the engine catches roaring to life. Chip looks up to his burly father and smiles "Good work son now take it slow. The van moves cautiously at first bumping zombies tossing them backwards into the mass of their gathered kin. Ben notices the road thickening with undead as they pour from the cornfields materializing like fog on the once open road. “They are trying to pin us in using their sheer numbers.” Ben realizes “Punch it son…” He yells as the van is rocked violently for side to side. Once all four wheel catch on the pavement the van’s tires squeal gaining traction. “Aim for the clear spaces between clusters son.” Ben tells his boy who drives with more conviction than fear this time. The beating on the van’s side fades replaced by bumps as the dead are plowed under the van and crushed. The zombies begin to thin out and soon the road is clear except for the occasional wreck. They pass a green sign with white lettering along the side of the road it reads. “Clow Falls 60 miles, Population 502.”

The van packed with weary survivors of what was now being called “The Event” motors down the two lane road. They are heading into the small town of Clow Falls. The morning has passed into late afternoon with no further bumps in the road Chip James is feeling weak from the exertion of the last few days. The lack of eating and sleeping coupled with the extremely physical nature of their new reality weighs on him. No matter how normal he felt, how normal he tried to act. Benjamin James Junior knew full well the bevy of medical ailments that came along with his partial paralysis. He knew he was pushing his body to the limit but he'd risk everything to see his father smile at him again. To protect his mother and siblings Chip pushed the functioning top half of his body to a new limit. "Jamal could you please get me something to drink and munch on." He asks his Iranian navigator who obliges immediately after seeing the sweat bead up on the boys forehead. Jamal weaves his way into the back of the van to the group seated about on the floor. "Excuse me Mrs. James can I please have something for Chip to eat and drink?” Anne's face changes as if a shadow has passed over it. "Is he alright Jamal?" She scoots back against the wall meaning to stand. The Senior James grabs her arm easing her back down to the floor. "Ben ... what?!" She shouts angrily. "Ben he's been going and going all day you know he can't do that." Benjamin James normally would allow his wife to have her say when it came to the kids. He knew when it came to being a mother Anne James skills were beyond reproach. Ben however took a fatherly approach he was keenly aware of his son's preconceived notions of what it meant to him to be a man. "Relax honey you're embarrassing him. He's doing this for you for me for all of us we need his confidence intact agreed?" Ben whispers discreetly in his wife's ear Anne recoils in anger "Benjamin do you think I give a damn about any of that?" Anne snaps back her voice not quite loud enough to be heard by everyone but definitely not a whisper. "I know you don't baby doll..." Ben leans into his wife making sure that not even the Brandon and Belinda sitting like bookends at her side can hear what he has to say. "...but he does honey." Anne relaxes a bit "deal Ben" she whispers furiously in his ear as they looks around the cabin becoming noticeably more uneasy. Anne stretches behind her husband reaching for a bag that she knows contains food. She produces a couple of granola bars and a bottle of water. "Here you go Jamal." Anne true to her character scans the faces all staring at her. "Anybody else hungry we don't have much but please feel free." She opens the bag like a mother at Halloween standing on the porch before a crowd of "trick or treaters." Now her caring nature Ben knew was useless to argue about with her. Jamal looks to Ben who nods his head then the young man quickly grabs a protein bar. Jamal rises and moves forward as Anne begins to distribute the food. "Benjamin James you make sure our son is healthy and that is not up for debate." She says just above a whisper. Ben rises from his wife's side then trails Jamal into the van's front. Ben is initially concerned upon seeing his son's face. He knows the boy is willing himself onward. "Hey son how are you feeling buddy.” Ben asks pressing his mass down between the seats. "I'm ok dad just tired I guess." The boy glances down at the food Jamal had given him. "Ah I see your problem Chip." Ben says with a big smile. "You can blame me I never taught you how to drive and eat. That was going to be our next lesson." He chuckles cracking open the bottle of water sitting in the cup holder. He hands it to his son before taking the bars he rips both wrappers off. By the time Ben looks back to his son the boy is crushing the plastic bottle tossing it aside. "Wooooo son slow down and we need to keep these bottles in case we get a chance to refill them." Ben turns back into the vans crowded belly. "Hey folks let's save these bottles in case we get a chance to refill them." He tells the oblivious group munching away in the back. "Hey Locket, Carson..." He calls to the soldiers. "Your friend is awake." Ben points to Private Carlita Medina on the floor she's looking up at the roof in a clear state of confusion blinking every now and then.

Well our survivors are finding their encounters with the dead more and more unnerving. They are now coming to understand that the days of leisure they'd known hunkered down to be a thing of the past. What will the survivors of The Event find in the small town of Clow Falls? Will it be help, shelter, answers or just more zombies?

Comeback the week of February 3rd to find out for yourself.

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The Living Dark

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Monday, March 18, 2013

Chapter 27: From the Mouth of Babes

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Chapter 26: Wrong Turn

Monday, February 18, 2013

Chapter 25: Divided and Conquered

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Chapter 24: Foot Race

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Chapter 23: Welcome to Clow Falls

Monday, January 28, 2013

Chapter 22: A Lonely Road

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