Chapter 31: I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream

Chapter 31: I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream

    Gustavo draws in deep refreshing breaths of air. He tugs one of the wrought iron spears free of the sheath mounted next to the covered window. Brother Gustavo hooks one of his fingers into the loop bent into the end of the implement. He takes a knee staring out the mesh covered window. The zombie horde is vast its numbers are far greater than he’d imagined. This was not what he envisioned when he first agreed to do The Sin Preacher’s bidding. Gustavo felt confident in the woman’s presence. She was bold in her servitude of the Lord and it was contagious. Those infected with false life shuffle closer. He was close enough to hear the moans rising up from their foul mouths. The tall rail thin man was feeling an unwanted sensation creep up from his stomach. “Fear has found me.” Gustavo thinks from his kneeling position. He has no real way of knowing if the ice cream truck will hold up to the onslaught he’d driven into the midst of. Like one of those idiotic storm chasers on the television Gustavo had the feeling his quarry could turn on him. Unlike a tornado death at the hands of the undead would not be quick. His death would be agonizing and prolonged. “Forgive me Father I have faltered.” Gustavo mumbles under his breath. The first growling corpse begins to jam its gnarled fingers through the mesh covering the window. “I must find my strength from your words.” Gustavo turns his head up to the Heavens closing his eyes. The lone man in the grotesquely modified ice cream truck now encircled by zombies recites a passage from the Bible to comfort himself. The dead no longer moan sheepishly having caught the sight of flesh. The zombies jostle about both sides of the truck snarling. Their behavior oddly enough fell in line with what Gustavo was used to from the counties unruly young folks. “Ezekiel chapter 34 verse 8.” His voice cracks. “As I live, saith the Lord God, surely because my flock became meat to every beast of the field,” He shakes as the words renew his faith his conviction. “Because there was no shepherds, neither did my shepherds search for my flock, but the shepherds fed themselves, and fed not my flock.” Gustavo’s glossy wet almost sickly eyes spring open. He is staring at the roof of the truck forcing his breathes through gritted teeth. He brings his head down slowly looking over the crowd outside the window. There were bumps and bangs from every side of the truck’s metal body. Neither the sounds of the undead nor the mechanical wail of “pop goes the weasel” could break his focus now.

    He came to see the face closest to his a man dressed in boxers wearing an open gore covered bath rode. The man’s face bore the unholy signs of being eaten. His nose had been torn literally off his face. “Thy will be done.” Gustavo calls out loud. The lanky ice cream man crouches down even more until he and the zombie are at eye level. There was nothing else in the world except him and the walking dead man. Gustavo stares in the milky white eyes of the agitated zombie. He asks himself “what must it feel like to be raptured?” To have one’s soul fly freely among the clouds ascending to the throne of the Almighty God. The frantic zombie gnashes its teeth against the mesh. Gustavo watches intrigued as the dead man’s teeth begin to shatter and splinter on the metal. It didn’t matter he inches closer his long beak like nose almost touching the mesh. Satisfied Gustavo brings up his spear aiming it though one of the many diamond shape holes in the mesh. He lines it up to the corpse he’d just been locked in a gaze with. He diligently aims for the dead man’s eye socket. Gustavo drives the spear forward popping the fetid eyeball quickly he spins the rod with his finger. The zombie’s frontal lobe is scrambled instantly Gustavo yanks the spear back as the zombie drops from sight. Before the corpse could hit the ground the others surge forward to take its place. Eyes now locked on a new undead a grin crosses his face. The next soul has presented itself to him he begins the hypnotic stare down with a fat dead woman in a tacky blue jogging sit. Gustavo becomes lost in her jellied eyes like he was trying to climb from the back seat to the front of a driverless car. The woman sways from side to side gently her dead movements less feral than those around her. The dead woman’s attempts to get at Gustavo are clumsy like her kin. Her actions however appear calculated and measured to a certain degree. Gustavo drags his tongue fiendishly across his sterling white teeth. “But blessed are your eyes, for they see.” He speaks softly almost a whisper to a lover. “Matthew Chapter 13 verse 16.” His grip on the improvised thrusting spear relaxes. Gustavo had fervently absorbed the words of the Bible all his life. From childhood to adulthood he would become lost in the pages of God’s holy Bible. As he sat in school other children about him learning to plot their course in life. Gus as he was known then reflected on his most favored passages. He read and absorbed the word from cover to cover. His parents paid their odd child no mind they simply indulged him. When teachers told Gustavo’s parents their son had “difficulty comprehending.” They took it to mean the boy was “slow” but that eventually he would understand. Gustavo’s hands tensed as he disengaged his hypnotic attachment to the undead woman. He blinks as he swivels his head on his shoulders like a snake charmer laying eyes on the next zombie pressing against the cage.

   Gustavo looses himself in his work as the hours of the day melt away. He goes on methodically purging the soulless bodies marching about the fields. One by one as Brother Gustavo stares deeply in each zombies eyes in an effort to prove his theory. He wasn’t doing this out of malice he was doing the Lord’s bidding destroying the hollow undead husks. He had to relocate the monstrous ice cream truck over a dozen separate times. The bodies of the now truly dead littered the back roads of the small rural farming towns in thick festering piles. Brother Gustavo knows there are now exactly thirty two shuffling corpses eagerly bumbling after the bloodstained truck. He craves a smoke with every fiber of his being as he navigates the truck back in the direction of Clow Oaks. Gustavo reaches over to his truck’s dashboard flipping off the switch activating “Pop goes the Weasel.” The dead would follow him anywhere he was now a shepherd tending to a flock that would greedily adhere to any trail he blazed. As long as he uses his flesh for bait they were blind to the obstacles and subjugated to his will. He gave the truck gas causing the cluster of corpses to fall further behind cresting a ridge Gustavo could see the burning sub division. The raging fire had consumed more than half the homes that once dotted the landscape. There were almost no dead he could see from this distance. The fire still danced over some of the houses. Gustavo came across a small foot bridge next to a flowing stream. “This is the perfect place for a quick puff.” He muses shutting down the engine. Gustavo moves through the truck looking at the blood and pieces of flesh strewn about the floor. He knows the truck would have to be cleaned before he turned in for the night. He removes a revolver from its hook on the wall squeezing it tightly in one hand for comfort. Unlocking the rear doors Gustavo check’s his rear flanks for the unclean. There are none so he plops down on the resting his feet on the bumper sitting in the open doors. His gaze settles on the calm peaceful calendar like scene. The wooden bridge and clear flowing water put his mind at peace. Gustavo saw God’s hand in everything in life none more so than in breath taking beauty of nature. Pulling the pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket he shakes one loose. Balancing the white tube of hand rolled tobacco between his lips Gustavo flicks his lighter sparking up a flame. “Heaven my Lord yes … this is simply heavenly.” He says taking in his first drag of cancerous smoke. There he sits cigarette in his left hand gun tapping his knee in his right. His perpetually one step off mind allows him to enjoy this peaceful moment even as an extinction level pandemic rages on across the globe. The sound of water splashing snaps Gustavo back from his meditation. In the distance a water logged corpse has pulled itself up from under the bridge.

   The dead man staggers towards him as he continues to enjoy his smoke break. He levels the revolver at the hunched over figure lumbering in his general direction. Gustavo thumbs back the weapons hammer sighting the dead man allowing him to come closer. The corpse looks left then right scanning the area cautiously startling the lanky man. “The soulless don’t do that?” He asks himself. Instead of waiting for an answer Gustavo cocks the revolver hammer down and calls out. “My Brother are you dead or are you alive?” The man jumps somewhat then speeds up his approach. Gustavo can see why coming over the hill below are his followers. “Nah man I aint dead.” The shivering man with the matted dreadlocks shouts. “I just needs some help dog I gots at get back to my place is all.” Gustavo is taken aback by the man speaking through chattering teeth. He speaks like he’s in a movie “I been stuck in that cold ass water all day bro.” The man says coming closer Gustavo stands bent over slightly in the doorway. He detested profanity the way The Sin Preacher despised smoking. “Hey man my name is White Magic and I would show appreciate it if you let me in yo sweet ride and gave me a lift.” The man whom he could see standing below him was much more a boy. White Magic’s eyes nervously dart back in the direction of the approaching zombies. Gustavo’s gaze carries up from the man tap dancing like a child about to wet themselves to the marching dead. “Listen to me my friend and listen well.” Gustavo kneels down flicking his cigarette butt away. He is keenly aware that the work The Sin Preacher has set him to do is priority number one. She won’t like him having to comeback and drop off this survivor in the midst of his preordained task. “And the King will answer” Gustavo looks the soaked shivering man in his eyes as he speaks. “And say to them assuredly I say to you inasmuch as you did it to the least of these my brethren, you did it to me. Matthew chapter twenty five verse forty.” The man flip s his hair back over his head his face showing fear and a hint of confusion. Gustavo knows the nature of man is to do anything to save himself. It is then the man clasps a hand onto the bumper in an effort to pull himself up to safety. There is a length of soggy white gauze hanging around his wrist. Gustavo grows concerned halfway up the man’s arm is a nasty wound. It’s shaped like a human mouth black flesh outlines where the teeth would’ve made contact. Stepping down Gustavo places his huge foot painfully on top of White Magic’s fingers. Magic cries out in pain as the undead are close enough to hear. Magic looks back in a panic “Come on man please.” He pleads. Gustavo doesn’t budge. He lays out the way things will be with White Magic. “Listen boy I have work to do ... do you understand? You will not interfere with my work nor will you deter me understand? You will hold your profane tongue on this vessel and in my presence.” A low howl erupts from behind them. “Yes …. Yes …please.” Magic pleads squirming under Gustavo’s now blood covered shoe. “I only help you as it is God will that I do for you not my own.” Gustavo lifts his foot grabbing the thin young man by his wet collar. White Magic is yanked into the truck as dead fingers catch the bottom of his shoe. He snatches his foot free of the feeble hands scampering further into the truck panting.

    Gustavo walks to White Magic standing over him pointing down a condemning finger inches from his nose. “I say to you heed my words. Deliver me from the workers of iniquity, and save me from bloody men. For, lo they ….” The ice cream man stabs a finger back at the living corpses clamoring at the open door. “ …. Lie in wait for my soul: the mighty are gathered against me; …..” Gustavo shouts drowning out the zombies. “Not for my transgression, nor for my sin, O Lord.” The finger becomes a helping hand spread wide offered to White Magic. “Psalms Chapter fifty nine versus two and three my name is Brother Gustavo.” Magic takes the man’s hand and is lifted to his feet coming up eye level to the man’s breast bone. They stand before each other White Magic is laughing awkwardly. “Thanks a lot Lurch.” White Magic insults the man who‘d just saved his life. “I‘ve been in that river all day freezing man.” Gustavo sizes the young frumpy looking stoner up. “How‘d you get there?” He asks. Magic stands up off the side of the truck. “Some people came to my house yesterday. So I lets them in and it turns out they was missing like two o they kids. This morning we left some of them at my crib and went looking for them big man and we found them. There was a little girl and a muscular dude in a wheelchair.” Brother Gustavo’s ears perk up. “A kid in wheelchair and a little girl you say?” He pokes a finger in Magic chest. “Their father was he a husky large black gentleman and did they have some soldiers with them?” Magic frowns at his savior “yeah how’d you know?” Brother Gustavo grins. “My Pastor found them and took them to our church over in the next county.” White Magic rolls his eyes. “Well I‘m all warm and fuzzy to know they‘s safe and all specially after the blew up my ride back. The rest of their group‘s at my house waitin‘.” Gustavo pulls his golden cross from under his shirt gently he kisses it. ”Where abouts do you live my young brother?” Gustavo knows the Sin Preacher will be pleased if he completes his mission and reunites the family as well. “I stay a few miles up the way off of Bereman Road.” Magic hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “The Olmsted Farm?” Gustavo knows the area. “Yeah Lurch the Olmsteads are my granparents yo. They hiding out upstairs in my place.” Gustavo steps back clapping his hands together. “This is God’s will my fiend don’t you see? I can take you there and we can all make it back to the Church before dusk Amen!” He’d still be able to finish his work and save the day Gustavo bubbles with joy. “Yeah Yeah I get it bro …” He looks down to his left at the zombies. “You got yo’self a mean zombie killing ice cream truck for Jesus.” Magic’s attention is in the wrong place he doesn’t see the anger storm across Gustavo’s pockmarked face.

   The large man’s solid fist catches Magic squarely across the right cheek. The pain hits Magic as suddenly as he collides with the stainless steel floor. Magic’s world is hazy his vision cloudy like water in a dirty fish tank. Brother Gustavo stands over him dropping the heavy silver revolver absently to the floor. “Why do this man thus speak such blasphemies? Who can forgive sins but God?” Gustavo drops down on White Magic straddling his chest. “Mark Chapter two verse seven.” Gustavo unleashes a second punishing blow to Magic’s unprotected face. The blow is followed by two more in rapid succession. Gustavo is seething with rage his paper hat wafts down from atop his meticulously combed hair. Gustavo wraps both of his cold clammy hands around Magic’s neck. He begins to slowly choke the life from the foul mouth boy. He draws his face down to Magic’s. “You ….. Will ….. Not …. Blaspheme.” He slams White Magic’s head against the floor before standing winded. Magic if left writhing in agony on the floor his face battered and bloodied. Gustavo is not finished he reaches for Magic tugging him by his shirt. Magic is dropped inches from the open doors coughing up blood. Gustavo places his foot on the boy’s chest pinning him to the floor. The dead go wild with anticipation. One corpse standing on its toes manages to grab a hold of a stray blond dreadlock. The zombie rips the hair free taking a small piece of scalp with it. Greedily the big undead soldier devours the piece of bleeding scalp flesh hair and all. “Do I make myself clear fool?” Gustavo asks impatiently flipping his thick greasy black hair up. He runs his fingers through his locks attempting to regain his lost composure. “Yes” Magic wheezes out barely audible. Gustavo leans over pulling both doors close from the top. The doors with their steel edges cleanly sever the zombie soldiers arm above the elbow. Ending the undead’s attempt to seek another morsel of flesh. Gustavo steps over White Magic as an after thought. He looks down at the boy in disgust “What is your name boy? Your given name not this foolishness you go by disrespecting yourself and those who have raised you.” White Magic chooses not to answer the man who’d just thrashed him spitting a wad of blood on the floor. Brother Gustavo pivots a foot bringing it down onto Magic’s hand. The crunch of bone lifts up from the truck’s rear. “Humphrey ……. Humphrey.” Magic screams in agony. Gustavo uncoils a kick to Magic’s unprotected gut. “From this point on in my presence, in the presence of everyone and in the presence of God you will answer to your given name. You will be known once again as Humphrey.” Gustavo strides boldly back to the driver’s seat. He doesn’t even cast a glance back at the heap on the floor. He shows no fear sitting down and starting the truck up. Even as the boy lies mere inches from a wall lined with guns. For Brother Gustavo knows his life is in God’s hands not the insignificant whelp he punished for his blasphemous tongue. Gustavo sets the truck in motion taking a note of where he was geographically.

   Giving Clow Oaks a wide birth Gustavo navigates the off road equipped ice cream truck. He churns up dirt as he tears across overgrown farm fields making his own path to the Olmsted Farm. They approach from the rear pulling up alongside the quiet house. There are no perusing zombies in sight but Gustavo knows they are around a permanent fixture in this new world. Gustavo can see a battered white paneled van stopped out on the road “James and Sons Construction.” Looks like the James family had done there fair share of surviving based on the condition of the van. “What a blessing …” Gustavo murmurs softly. “This man has managed to keep his family intact through the chaos of the end times.” He leaves the truck idling next to the front porch of the big house. Gustavo makes his way back to the rear doors once more. White Magic flinches as he reaches down to scoop up the revolver on the floor. Gustavo ignores his passenger on the floor. Opening the door gazing up at the Sun he guesses the hour to be early afternoon. He lowers down the ladder then climbs down “Come now Brother Humphrey.” White Magic looks at the man standing on the ground through his bloodshot right eye. White Magic’s left eye has doubled in size and almost swollen shut. He sees his hand extended once again offering him assistance. The streaks of blood on the man’s powerful but skinny hands belong to him recall. In spite of himself he takes the man’s hand. Gustavo drags White Magic forward carefully lifting him of the truck. He sets the injured young man down and scans the area. No problems appear to be of an immediate threat to them. “I want you to understand something Brother Humphrey.” Gustavo keeps his hands on White Magic to steady him. “What happened between us was not personal my brother. Nor is the fact that I will not be taking you back with us.” Magic looks shocked. “The wound on your arm marks you as unclean my friend.” Brother Gustavo points to the bite on White Magic’s forearm. White Magic does not protest he had no plans of leaving with this lunatic anyway. Gustavo pulls Magic in close hugging him tightly. “I forgive you Brother Humphrey and I will pray for your soul. Now make haste and bring the remainder of the James family unto me. For Brother Humphrey I have much work to do before the Sun sets this day.” Gustavo releases Magic from his embrace. He watches the beaten young man sway on his feet. Soon White Magic finds the strength to walk. He staggers up the porch leaning heavily upon the weathered banister. “Remember God Loves you Brother Humphrey.” Gustavo calls up from the besides the truck as White Magic staggers into the house.





   Weeeeee're baaaaack! Well it seems out good buddy White Magic has resurfaced. He's run into no other than Brother Gustavo the demented ice cream man. From all appearances it didn't work our for good ole White Magic as well as it could have. What happens now that Brother Gustavo has escorted White Magic home to retrieve the rest of the survivors from the James group?




  We return next week the week of May 12th for a Mother's Day Chapter of The Living Dark. See you then.




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Chapter 30: Deserving of Suspicion?

Chapter 30: Deserving of Suspicion?

   The adults riding in the rear of the Sin Preacher’s camper covered pickup truck are fidgety. Currently they are driving further away from where the rest of the group is camped out. They squirm as they sit wearing damp clothes from their trek across the river in advance of the undead. Ben and his group have found themselves in a shiny blue pickup truck covered with a white camper. Bouncing along dirt farm roads courtesy of a woman who'd emerged quietly from the woods telling them she was a Sin Preacher. He kept his eyes glued to his two rescued children Chip and Belinda sitting in the cab with Miriam. Meanwhile he, Jamal, Sara and Cody Carson slide about the trucks spotless bed. "Now remember our goal is to get back to our people." Ben whispers as every head nods in agreement. Lockett looks suspiciously at the woman driving the truck before she speaks. "We need to lay some ground rules." She tells the men then proceeds to count of her points on her fingers. "We don't give away our exact number of people. We don't surrender our weapons or at the very least don't give up everything. We also don't tell exactly where we are from or heading to." Jamal sheepishly raises his hand. "Where are we headed to no one told me anything?" Carson palm plants his hand up to his face grinning. "She means where we are headed back to bro." Jamal's smile brightens considerably. "Ok good." He remarks. "Why are we being so secretive I don't see the problem?" Ben challenges his young charge. "Look Mr. James the apocalypse tends to bring out the worst in people. This chick just strolls out the woods all creepy and shit like it's just any other day why is that? What was she doing out here alone?" Private Lockett offers in her defense firing off the mostly rhetorical questions in rapid succession. "How many religious folks have you seen in movies and read about in books that go nuts during the end times. One minute they are friendly the next minute you‘re picking out matching jumpsuits." The men simply stare in disbelief as the truck hits a rut in the clay road. "What books have you been reading Private?" Ben asks snorting. "All I care about is getting back to my family. We have all seen things that defy movies in the last few days. I suggest we all stop equating real life to the movies. We are making this up as we go along." Private Lockett scoots in closer. "I agree with you a hundred and ten percent Mr. James. Therefore I say we thank her for the ride then ask to borrow some mode of transport and get while the getting’s good." Ben’s head bobs up and down with a grin. Finally Lockett is seeing things from his perspective. "Deal." He sticks his hand out and Sara shakes it vigorously.

    A tap on the window startles the conspiring troop of survivors from their semi circle. Miriam slides the window open "Welcome to The First New Faith Baptist Church ladies and gentlemen." Out the right side of the truck's camper a pristine white steeple stands majestically. Atop the spire sits a glistening chrome cross it seems to sparkle in the early day sunlight. The church sits out front of two smaller separate utility buildings. One of the buildings is actually nothing more than a shed. "Miriam you don't seem to have much in the way of fortifications." Private Carson crab walks his large body forward to the window. "We don't need anything more than we have. With things the way they are now out of sight and out of mind is the best defense." She talks smiling up into the rearview mirror. They drive up to a tall razor wire topped fence a short squat man wobbles out of the church's side door and begins to work thick chains off the fence. Fencing wraps the back half of the church's property encompassing the larger of the two utility structures a large tin roofed storage building. "Why the fence then?" Carson continues to probe. "It was up before the Rapture came to pass young man as I said we haven’t done much.” She hunches her shoulders dismissively. Carson sighs looking back to Lockett. "Ma'am I'm sorry." He apologizes red blush spreading up his cheeks. "It's just that given what we've seen in the last few days. It is extremely hard to believe you have survived in this unassuming church." They pull through the gate and to the rear of the property moving for the larger utility building. "Young man we haven't survived here we have simply benefited from the grace of God. He has protected us and allowed use to continue his work in these difficult times." The truck idles out front of the building’s metal doors for several minuets. A brief look of frustration crosses the Sin Preacher's face. The doors roll back from inside she pulls forward slowly entering the dimly lantern lit structure. There are dozens of cars parked inside they are no more than barely visible dark silhouettes. "We hide all the cars trying to lessen our presence." With that she steps from the light weight truck. "All the survivors who choose to stay with us we store their transpiration for them.” She drops the lift gate opening the camper’s Plexiglas door upwards. "There are others?" Ben asks pushing Chip's wheelchair out. He looks up getting his answer two men now flank the Preacher each stands silently holding up flickering lanterns. Ben stands from the truck bed unfolding the chair. "Yes Sir Mr. James we have found others and others have found us as well." Ben excuses himself as the others climb from the truck’s rear.

    He makes his way up to the front of the pickup his son is waiting with the door open. "Hop off B." Chip instructs his sister then he hefts himself out of his seat dropping down into the seat of his wheelchair. Ben holds his arms out anxious to hug his baby again. "Daddy." She squeals leaping from the truck’s cab narrowly missing hitting her head on the roof. He spins about on the dirt floor the small girl on his hip. Chip rolls on his father's heels back to the rear of the truck. The portly man who rolled back the fence has now joined the group. As Chip comes into view all three men noticeably drop their eyes to his chair. "This kids in a wheelchair." The chubby man with the round belly reports as if no one has yet noticed scratching his head in confusion. "What? What!?" Chip shouts nudging the chair forward in the dirt. "So nobody in the world has ever seen a person in a wheelchair before?" Ben reaches down placing a reassuring hand on his son's chest. "Calm down Junior." He says using that old parental trick of talking softer to an agitated child. It doesn't work with Chip as the stress and strain have merged with the unwanted pity everyone seems to have for him. "No Dad I won't." He says defiantly shrugging Ben's hand down with one of his own. "Last night I rolled down a hill through a car wreck fighting off zombies then jumped in a truck drove down the block. I found a house that had a zombie living in it. She let us in at some point I had a seizure and when I woke up killed and the zombie. Then I held off an army of zombies til my dad and his friends came along all while keeping my little sister safe. What did you do last night Captain Chubby?" Chip swipes his damp hair back from his eyes. The husky man not taking too kindly to being insulted moves for Chip then freezes in place. Now Ben makes his presence felt depositing Belinda into Chip's lap. "Do we have a problem here?" Ben inquires puffing his wide chest up stepping between the man and his eldest son. The aggressor says nothing he's more focused on the cool sensation of metal pressed against the back of his head. Private Lockett sports a sly grin on her face the lantern light dancing off her flawless brown skin. She doesn't say a word to anyone. It is in this moment that Benjamin James knows he can trust his family to the juvenile soldiers and that they are now a part of his team. "Yes we do have a few problems." The Preacher steps up cleaning her glasses. "First and foremost Silas Proctor apologize for as God proclaimed to Moses.” Who made the deaf, the mute, the seeing and the blind was it not I?'" The Sin Preacher slowly raises her hand gently placing it atop Sara Lockett's. With subtle pressure she convinces Sara that they mean no harm as the weapon is lowered by both women. "Brother Proctor you have shown disrespect to this man and his family make you apologies this instant. You and I both know this boy can move better than you even in a wheelchair." Silas exhales feeling the pressure of the gun against his skull abate. He takes his hat from his head refusing to make eye contact with anyone except Benjamin. He extends a hand in a gesture of genuine good will. "I'm sorry buddy aint mean no harm just aint seen nobody around who's disabled. If this kid done did all them things like yawls saying then my hats off to ya." Ben and Silas shake hands the tensions eases from the room. Miriam interrupts "Now we still have one other issue to resolve Mr. James." She leans in closer to Chip before she speaks. "Here in our church children must respect their elders at all times young Mr. James. The Bible says 'Honor thy mother and father and here we take the letter of the Bible seriously son." Ben doesn't understand where Miriam is going initially before he weighs in. "Trust me Pastor my children are well aware of their behavior and the word of God." The Sin Preacher raises her gaze to the father towering over her. "You are strong in the word of God Mr. James this is good." Ben's mouth hangs agape "Umm No Ma'am my wife is far stronger in the word than I am." Ben admits to the preacher who responds in turn. "Well I can't wait to meet her then." Miriam stands looking about. "Where are my manners?" She claps one of the men standing besides her on the back. "James family and friends these gentlemen are members of my humble little house of worship." Miriam introduces the tall burly man in blue jeans and flannel holding a lantern to her left first. "Pardon his grey hair it comes from years of Earthly knowledge. This is Jim Hosstrum one of the best men I know." The man smiles and passes handshakes all around even managing to include little Belinda James. Miriam doesn't stop moving to the man on her right. "Now this is Ben Culverson we call him BC and please don't mind the disgusting wad of chaw in his mouth." She rolls her eyes at the man condemning him with just a look. With a move only a seasoned veteran of chewing tobacco would attempt. He swallows the lump of wadded tobacco in much the same manner a kid does when busted chewing gum by their teacher in class. Private Carson feels his stomach churn having grown up on a farm and realizing the septic brew the man had just "gutted." "You fine folks have already met Mr. Silas Proctor here." The preacher motions to the chubby farmer. After a rousing round of handshakes the dimly lit building falls silent. All present seem to be waiting for the preacher to speak. "Brother Proctor anything to report this morning?" She asks. "No Ma'am nuttin at’ all been as quite as kept round here." He says slapping his hat atop his balding head. "Good … good." She scans the building. "We should be able to go this way." She points to a door near where they had pulled into the large shed. "This will lead us into the church then we can go to my office." Private Lockett raises her hand having holstered her pistol. "Private ... Lockett" Miriam reads the name stitched on the girls uniform. "As long as what you say is not blasphemous please feel free to speak." Sara Lockett looks mildly agitated for a second attempting to gauge if the woman is serious or not. "Oh I only did that to get everyone's attention. Unless you have more Stars and Bars on your uniform than me I pretty much say what I please." She glances dismissively at their host. "Where are all the people who these cars belong to?" The men all appear to bluster at the tone the young female soldier has used with the pastor. Miriam raises a hands palm up calming the men instantly without a word. "They are all in the church of course my child as I have said we offer the same thing as we did before the Rapture." Lockett teeters inward waiting on the answer "annnnd that would be?" Miriam glides across the grouping to Belinda tussling the girl’s wild locks of curly sandy hair. "Shelter." Miriam gives a one words response her face goes blank.

    "Where is he?" She asks flatly as the men a take turns looking to each other unsure of who should answer. Jim clears his throat and hitches up his pants. "Pastor he doesn't tell us where he is going or what he's doing and quite frankly Ma'am that's fine with me." Miriam's eyes narrow her displeasure is immediately clear. "I'm here." A voice calls back from deep in unseen black shadows. Every head pivots towards the sound of the voice. The Sin Preacher stares into the darkness unmoving. In the thick stillness of pitch black solitude she can see a faint glow. His "one flaw" she thinks to herself watching the cherry orange of a cigarette intensify the fade. "Brother Gustavo what have we spoken about as it relates to cleanness in the Lord’s temple?" The glow trails to the earthen floor then vanishes. "Excellent Brother Gustavo now have you thought about our discussion this morning? How feasible is it that we can be successful?" The man in the rear makes no attempt to move up and be apart of the group. His deep emotionless voice is enough to send Belinda James crawling from her beloved brother's lap into the safety of her father's arms. Ben is keenly aware of his baby girl shivering in his arms he doesn't know if the sensation comes from fear or the fact that she's chilled. "It depends on the size of the opposing force Pastor." Miriam cuts her eyes at Ben then replies to the shrouded apparition. "These nice folk here were hunted by somewhere in the neighborhood of two to three hundred lost souls. They are flocking this way out of the Clow Falls, Clow Oaks area. I beseech you Brother Gustavo have faith. For it was Judges 15:15 that Sampson did slay a thousand men with the jawbone of ass." Silence drapes the claustrophobic improvised carport. His words boom back. "If I use the lay of the land to my advantage I believe the Lord will grant me success in this endeavor." The weight casting a pall over Miriam's face lifts. "Excellent Brother Gustavo I pray for your safe return we shall convene in my office once you are done." The Sin Preacher falls to her knees. The three men with her see the woman prostrate on the ground and follow suit without question. She begins to pray aloud. "Dear Lord we humbly beg you grant our Brother Gustavo safe passage as he seeks to do you will. Keep your hands around him as you did Daniel in the lions den." The men surrounding the Preacher mumble in fervent prayers under their collective breath. The new group of survivors stand befuddled at what they are witnessing. Private Lockett turns to Carson making the international hand gesture for crazy. Circling her index finger around her temple while crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue Sara Lockett mocks the people praying. Belinda James giggles slapping her hands over her mouth her father shooting her a disapproving stare he shifts her from one hip to the other. "Amen." With that the thin woman in hunter's attire rises back to her feet. Jim and BC follow suit with relative ease. The group stands about watching Silas Proctor comically struggle to get to his feet with all of the grace of a two legged turtle. Miriam cocks her head at the rotund little man. Jim and BC both set about helping Silas to a standing position. "Go forth Brother Gustavo and bring us the victory. Now let us go become acquainted with the others in the church and plan on how we can get you back to your family." Ben and the Preacher lead the others out of the front door into the warm sun. The shadow at in the rear of the building is briefly visible he exits through a rickety door closing it quietly behind himself.

    Gustavo plods across the dense overgrown grass from the building to the shed the Sin Preacher had given him to conduct his pre ordained tasks in. He walks slightly hunched over but at almost seven feet tall most people wouldn't notice. His dusty tattered overalls ride up over his gnarly brown work boots. The wind blows at his thick unmoving black hair styled in a decidedly Elvis like pompadour. His meticulously combed hair sways but manages stay in place. Gustavo stops at the red pad locked doors of the smaller shed. He fishes the keys out of his pockets using his long thin spider like fingers. Waiting for the others to enter the front of the church before unlocking the padlock on the end of a heavy rusted steel cross bar. Gustavo pushes the bar up then sliding his rail thin body in the slight opening in the door. Once inside he's greeted by dark and unmoving air Gustavo grabs a steel identical bar on the opposite and lowers it. He snaps the padlocks through a ring securing the bar in place. Assured he's alone the quirky loner fires up his lighter placing a cigarette in his mouth. Smoking was his lone vice in pious life of servitude to the New Faith Baptist church from handyman to gardener he did it all for the church. Now with the Rapture upon them he has been called to do his greatest work for the church in the name of the Lord. Reaching down in the darkness he feels around for the small generator then pulls the handle back. After several choking sputters it burps to life powering eight small light bulbs strung four each alongside the cramped structure. Beat up tools benches line the walls but each is neat and orderly. He takes a long step over the metal bomb shelter hatch at his feet that leads to an underground passage. This gives him direct unseen accesses into the belly of New Faith. A large misshapen vehicle sits under a white tarp only it's massive off road tires are visible. His mind wanders as it has the tendency to do. Thinking to himself he smiles "My greatest creation ever my Frankenstein’s Monster." Walking in long odd strides he squeezes past the truck headed for the rear door. The doors were a patch work of reinforced welded steel plates that rolled pack on well oiled tracks. These doors run flush with the exterior fence. Gustavo directs his eyes above the door following the thick insulated cable that he's used to complete circuit when he electrified the fence running around the church. With one flip of the long black handled switch on the right side of the doors electricity would surge through the metal encircling them. In the corner sits the most out of place thing in the room a simple small brown dresser with a chipped oval mirror nailed to the wall above it. Inside the top drawer he has pulled open is a uniform from his second job the only one he could get. Gustavo is the lone ice cream man in the entire sparsely populated county. Today the Sin Preacher would allow him to marry the two things he loved the most into one.

    Minuets later Gustavo stands dressed head to toe in white wearing a set of highly polished black shoes. Looking in the mirror he straightens his black bow tow placing the paper triangle hat slightly off to the left atop his thick bristly black hair. Today there would be no delivering of ice cream treats to the waiting mouths of children. He would be instead delivering the Lord's vengeance to the lost souls wandering aimlessly about. He grabs the corner of the cloak hiding his work and tugs. The white tarp falls away to reveal a highly modified pristine white ice cream truck sitting four feet off the ground on those thick black tires with the deep treads. His eyes trace the right side of the truck the window where he'd once sold cool ice cream treats was replace with thick metal grates. He’d done the same procedure to the window on the left side as well. His front windshield was protected by the same mesh steel grate. Gustavo cranes his long neck to catch a glimpse of the roof to which he took time to affix a chrome overhang. It hung over the edges of the ice cream truck and there were winches attached to each side. Collapsible hydraulic legs at the corners to keep his creation from being tipped over. The only thing that remains untouched on the roof is a twirling two foot tall illuminated ice cream cone. As it slowly rotated on the trucks roof the words "Cool Treats" spiraled around and around… With his hunched Sasquatch gait he makes his way to the generator shutting it off casting the building in darkness once more. Gustavo lifts a ladder from the floor placing it against the rear bumper he climbs into the truck heaving the ladder in behind him. He places the ladder on hooks welded to the wall. Then slams the rear door of the malformed ice cream truck a pair of cabin lights gives off a small measure of light. Half a dozen thick bolts later the rear of the truck is secure. He turns about checking his work making his way to the driver’s set. The long deep freezer remained along left side beneath the window. Above freezer on the wall he had half a dozen hunting rifles on hooks below them sat boxes of ammunition. Neatly welded to the side of each window is a metal box containing dozens of spiral metal spears each with a finger loop bent into the end. Each spear had its end flattened out and ground to a razor sharp edge. Gustavo squeezes his way past all of his self made implements to his seat. Where a passenger seat would have been stands a control panel which had had installed to utilize all of his upgrades with ease. He sits on the worn black leather seat which bounces under his weight. Gustavo leans forward pulling the key from under his shirt it dangles on a silver chain around his neck. Taking great care not to muss his hair he takes the key off its chain. Sticking it into the ignition He reaches over his head to the visor pressing a white button on a small black rectangular box. The metal doors he's facing pop open with a metallic clank much like a bank vault door. Sunlight floods the utility shed as the doors part. Gustavo can see miles of hilly green rolling pastures the sun is shinning while birds chirp in the trees. He rubs his clean shaved chin thinking "This one section of the world has yet to see the festering filth of the apocalypse." Turning the key the engine catches smoothly throwing the truck into gear he rolls the beast out into the sun for the first time. "Thy Will Be Done" he mumbles under his breath. Depressing the button on the visor again he waits for the doors to close securely before heading of on his mission.

    Gustavo is enjoying a drive through the desolate countryside as the minuets and miles tick by. He knows the route the Sin Preacher had taken along the back roads into Clow Oaks. If he didn't all he needed to do was follow the massive black cloud of smoke fouling the beautiful blue sky as the sub division burned. He spots the first zombies wandering aimlessly in a field coming over a steep hill. Gustavo wishes he had the mental acuity to figure out how the dead tracked their victims. They never gave up they never slowed down they just kept coming. The only thing he was sure of is what he had told the Sin Preacher. They are attracted to sound as their eyes are clouded over their vision must be terrible. He had gone out on his usual run the morning after the power had gone out trying to sell off his treats as they were melting in the sweltering heat. He almost didn't make it back to the church alive but the Lord had given him a vision an idea. He stops the truck letting it idle reaching to his right he flips a switch. Overhead a low whine starts the hydraulic legs deploy out in sections. The mounted motor driving them deep into the soft earth until the Ice Cream truck is braced. He wants a smoke so bad his lips are dry but he won't foul his vessel while he works. He shuts the engine off taking the key and hanging it back on its hook. Now came his favorite part flipping the switch on the dashboard. "Pop goes the weasel" begins to blare from the speakers. That song from every one's childhood that signaled the ice cream man was coming. For the undead lost souls of the apocalypse it was no different. The dead pivot in unison making for the wailing truck. They shuffle falling over tumbling down the hill like happy children. There one was difference however these forms beating their way blindly towards the ice cream man wanted a treat of a different kind. It was warm and had to be pulled fresh from the bone it was human flesh. Gustavo waited rising from his seat he takes a black leather apron from a hook on the wall pulling it over his head deftly tying it around his waist. Next came two elbow length cauterized rubber gloves he fits onto his hands. The Ice Cream Man was open for business as "Pop goes the weasel" play in its tantalizing repetitive cycle.

 

 

    We find half of our group of survivors guest at the New Faith Baptist church this week. Where as they plot on a way to get back to the others. They find themselves suspect of the woman who has lent them a helping hand saving their lives. What makes them even uneasier is the voice of the man they can not see. Who is Brother Gustavo and why is he driving a souped up ice cream truck into a horde of zombies anyway?

Come back and find out the week of  Sunday May 5th for Chapter 31 of The Living Dark.

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The Living Dark

Chapter 29: Enter the Sin Preacher

Chapter 29: Enter the Sin Preacher

    Everything goes blank for Benjamin James his mind fills with visions of his children being torn apart while screaming for his help. He stares down at the pileup of twisted cars littering the intersection at the bottom of the hill. Ben doesn't realize that he has the gas peddle pinned to the floor until White Magic starts tugging his shirt. "Find something to hold onto." He shouts out the open window over the rushing wind. Private Lockett stands up cautiously gazing over the cab of the truck. "Wha … wha ..." Looming ahead of them the jagged wreckage. "Oh Jesus ...." she says dismissively to no one in general. With no warning the pickup truck veers hard to the right throwing Lockett off balance. Before Lockett can right herself they hit the curb and plow over a soft earthen hump. She realizes she is no longer tethered to the truck's bed. Instead she’s momentarily weightless like an astronaut. Carson lashes out with his left arm while securing himself the speeding vehicle with his right hand. His eyes never leave the floating girl he reels Sara in by the waist as the truck comes down bouncing hard against the asphalt. Ben takes the truck up and over the embankment into the sub division. He obliterates the white wooden sign reading “Welcome to Clow Oaks.” Pieces of the splintered wood fly up and over White Magic’s dead grand pa’s truck as it chews up grass fishtailing onto the sidewalk. Ben drives as recklessly he’s a bull in a china shop of the living dead. He doesn’t swerve when confronted with an oncoming shuffling pack of zombies. Ben crashes the ton of Detroit steel he controls through the middle of the group. The vast majority of the undead are crushed and tossed about like cigarette butts on the ground. White Magic flinches as a pair of zombies ride the hood up and over the cab landing in the midst of the grouping in the truck’s rusty bed. Privates Carson and Locket have yet to uncoil themselves from their embrace. They are lying on their backs when a wadded up corpse lands atop them. Carson reacts out of shock at the attacking zombie whose jaw is broken into splintered bony spikes. Letting go of Lockett Carson grabs the dead man by his filthy gore stained suit coat heaving him out of the speeding truck. Lockett safe in the knowledge that Carson can handle himself reaches out seizing the mangled barefoot of a female zombie pulling herself towards Jamal with her one good arm. The young Iranian man sits up against the cab with his eyes closed clutching his baseball bat to his chest. His lips move silently as he mumbles to himself. “Jamal..!” Lockett screams into the wind to get his attention as the truck races onward. Jamal opens his eyes and fear takes over in an effort to get away from the dead woman he scurries up and off balance. He topples sideways until Carson Grabs his elbow. “Gotcha….” The big soldier yelps. Lockett comes to her knees deftly drawing her knife once more. She jabs the blade down with such force it penetrates through the zombie’s skull clanking off the truck bed. Carson uses a thick hand to pound the window angrily “Hey cut us a fucking break please?!” Carson looks at the two men in the cab getting his answer. Ben doesn’t even acknowledge the world around him his thick hands fiercely kneed the steering wheel. White Magic however has a wild eyed look of terror as he has both hands planted firmly on the dashboard like terrified senior citizen watching their grandchild weave the in and out of traffic. “Aw shit.” Cody Carson blurts dismissively as they round a corner having made it in record time through Clow Oaks.

   “Lockett Mr. James has tunnel vision.” He says breathlessly to his partner who peers to the side taking in the ever growing crowd of zombies coming up fast ahead of them. “Alright if we want to survive this rescue mission we have to work together.” Lockett says into the stream onrushing wind caused by the speeding truck. She readies her M-4 patting herself down realizing they can’t get involved in a shootout she and Carson don’t have more than fifteen clips between them. “Carson you and I are on clean up detail. Jamal …..” She looks up to see the dazed look in their compatriot’s eyes. Lockett snaps her fingers to get his attention. “Jamal …..” After squeezing his chest with one hand Jamal seems to find his nerves once more. “Jamal stay between us you take care of the stragglers understood?” “Yes Lockett.” He responds tightening his hold on the baseball bat that had seen him through several undead close encounters. “Man Lockett he aint stopping …” This is as close to a complete sentence as Carson can get out before Ben hops the truck back up onto the sidewalk. Lockett is aware of why Carson is so concerned. Ben James plans to simply drive the truck as close to the house in question as he can get it. This course of action will place them smack dab in the center of a large horde of zombies. Lockett makes her way to the two men standing leaning heavily on the truck’s cabin. The three of the scan the hellish landscape in the distance a battered white pick up trucks sits stalled against a tree. “Hey guys see that truck?” She says pointing as the truck they are riding in clips a hapless zombie. “I think our missing people might be in that house.” Lockett can’t help but admire the resolve of the younger James if he has survived. Even if he wasn’t in a wheelchair to make this far fending of the dead alone while protecting a child was certainly impressive. They close in on the house being assaulted and Ben guns the engine across lawns. A two muffled gunshots pierce the air as the pickup skids onto the lawn of the house bowling zombies in every direction. “We got survivors people.” Lockett shouts. The truck’s momentum has barley stopped Ben emerges from the driver’s side door in full blown panic mode leaving the truck running “Chip …..Belinda!” He bellows moving across matted grass. “Dad!” a scream answers from inside the house. “Christ he’s not even paying attention.” Carson shouts Benjamin James cares about one thing and one thing only his children. “Jamal go with Mr. James.” Lockett orders over the eyesight on her rifle. Without hesitation Jamal bails over the side of the truck. “Carson back to back you take out the ones coming I got the ones on the porch. Magic slide over into the driver’s seat and close the door.” Lockett opens fire on the zombies who have turned their attention away from the door onto the man foolishly charging empty handed into their number. Lockett and Carson begin laying the undead flat permanently in their designated fields of fire.

   Ben is vaguely aware of the gunfire around him even as Lockett skillfully cuts down the dead gathering on the porch. A one arm corpse reaches clumsily for him Ben throws a crushing right hook to its jaw. “Chip! …. Is that you son?! “He shouts back dismissing the zombie sprawled at his feet. Jamal appears at Ben’s side smashing the zombie’s head into paste before it can stand. Ben doesn’t flinch taking his first step up the porch. He watches two zombies stepping down from the porch as their heads explode less than a foot in front of him bodies toppling down the steps past him “I’m coming son!” Ben calls feeling what he first believes to be raindrops pelting his shirt in actuality they are tears. He has no idea why his eyes are dribbling tears down his face and he doesn’t care. “Hurry dad.” Chip’s disembodied voice beckons from the house two more gunshots from inside. Ben pushes up the stairs onto the body littered front porch. Jamal turns to see a zombie at the base of the stairs he draws back a full swing. Jamal swings the bat arching towards the side of the aggressive zombie’s head. Which explodes seconds before Jamal’s bat deals a devastating blow. His momentum unchecked Jamal goes spinning of balance Lockett nods her head sharply back up the porch. Ben latches onto the shit collar a zombie who has its arm stuck shoulder deep into the cracked open door. He brutally smashes the dead man in hospital scrubs head into the door stop over and over creating a thicker read streak with successive each blow. He doesn’t hear the dead firefighter Lockett is desperately trying to get a clearer shot on creeping up besides his exposed arm. Back in the truck Lockett steadies her shot the first two she had attempted ricocheted harmlessly off zombie’s sturdy black firefighter’s helmet. The undead firefighter with Rodriguez emblazoned in neon yellow on his thick black coat clasps his vice like dead grip on Ben’s exposed arm. The zombie’s mouth opens impossibly wide teeth preparing for the fatal bite. Jamal flies in knocking the dead man hands off Ben. Using his bat he pushes the corpse onto its back dislodging the protective black helmet which clatters across the porch. Jamal brings the bat down with two hands as if it were an axe. The dead firefighter’s soul is put to eternal rest as his head is crushed. “Dad .. Dad they’re coming in the back too.” Chip calls from behind the door. Jamal leaps to his feet. “Everyone they are coming in the back of the house too. “ Ben shoves his way in the door seeing only his son gun in hand pressing back against a cabinet propped across the door. Coming down a hall several undead townsfolk bump about making their way forward. “Where’s Belinda Chip?” Ben hollers coming over the downed China hutch “Daddy!” Ben spins around to see his daughter’s tiny scarred head poking out of a closet door with a smile bright as the midday sun. The undead have now noticed her too “B get back in there.” Chip shouts firing a wild shot at the pack of walking corpses. Ben’s head swivels around the room. He presses his son’s hand holding the pistol down pushing his chair to the side. Ben James grabs the cabinet that has been blocking the door in a rage. In a display of Herculean strength Ben lifts the hutch up just as Jamal, Lockett and Carson pile into the door behind him. The incensed father with his furniture battering ram charges down the narrow hallway. “Man I though he was brutal driving the truck.” Carson says absently. The sound of bodies hitting the back of the hollow cabinet reverberates about the room. Ben finally tosses the bloodied China hutch on top of the remaining zombies pinning them in place. He turns back as the Privates Lockett and Carson along with Jamal in tow move in to finish off the twisted zombies crawling about the floor like partially stepped on ants. Ben James twists the door knob yelling out for his little humming bird “Belinda.” When the door doesn’t open he blindly puts one of his big feet through the door. Ben kicks and kicks at the old door until it’s just splinters. He reaches his baby leaps into his arms “Daddy … Daddy … Daddy.” She says squeezing her father’s thick neck pressing her smooth cheeks against his tear streaked ones. Ben falls back into the wall hugging his daughter dropping to knee as Chip wheels into the reunion. The James family embraces in the center of the hall the front door burst open. “Hey all them motherfuckin’ zombies we saw at the house are here and they bought some friends too.” White Magic shouts slamming the door Uzi in hand with Ben‘s rifle over his scrawny shoulder. “Hey is this the right dude in the wheelchair we was lookin’ for?” He says with his usual lack of tact. Lockett pushes past Magic pulling the door open cautiously. “Holy shit there’s at least two to three hundred hostiles.” The dead they had put down to get into the house lie scatter across the ground were but a fraction of living dead force hunting them. Private Lockett watches a sea of bumbling corpses coming from both ends of the block. The dead flow from between houses like moaning flood waters. The zombies have come for them en mass using their sheer numbers to overwhelm the living.

   “Out the back people it‘s clear.” Carson shouts running up from the back door. Lockett reaches into the pocket of her flack jacket. “Hey Magic I’m sorry.” She says stepping on the porch. “Sorry for what?” White Magic says looking at the others. Lockett produces a grenade she has retrieved from her pocket. Pulling the pin on the explosive she lobs it under handed watching as it lands in the bed of Magic’s grandfathers still running pickup truck. Quickly she moves back into the house closing the front door. “Fire in the hole.” With that said Lockett and the others duck. While Benjamin James shields his children. From out front the explosion is deafening rattling the prefabricated house knocking out the remaining windows. Flames billow in the shattered windows igniting everything in the houses living room. “Go … go while they are distracted.” Lockett stands heading for the back door of the house. “What the fuck did you do bitch!” Magic’s face is red with anger. He tosses down both guns stepping to Lockett. “I can’t be without my lights you fucked my ride back.” Magic stops ripping off his sunglasses he pivots and bolts out the backdoor. “Magic wait …..” Carson calls out getting no response as the dreadlock headed man disappears from view “We got no time for him.” Lockett steps gingerly by the fire licking from the doorway scooping up the dropped weapons. Ben James rises placing his daughter in her big brother’s lap. He pushes the kids around the down China hutch avoiding the corpses on the floor. Ben follows Carson and Jamal out the back of the burning house with Lockett bringing up the rear. “Where the hell did he go?” Ben asks looking at the empty suburban backyards. “Doesn’t matter Mr. James we aren’t going back the way we came. So the task at hand now is survival.” Ben pushes his kids across the stained wooden deck and helps Chip maneuver down the stairs. “Come on we need to go down to that river and cross it.” Carson leads the charge down the sloping overgrown grass to a fairly calm river. The back of Clow Oaks and the other side of the river appear to be blessedly devoid of zombies for the time being. Locket stares back into the house the fire consuming the structure grows ever more menacing. “We need to get across and get out of sight or they will follow us.” She agrees with Carson. “Alright here’s how we do this.” Chip hands Belinda to their dad. He tucks the pistol in his waistband like his father along with the Lucky Mallet. His fingers dance along the wide skinny rims he secures his chair’s wheels in place. “Bring my chair will ya?” He dives head first into the cool late summer water feeling the slow current tug gently against his body. The one thing Ben did not fear with his handicapped son was the boys swimming abilities. Considering Chip’s muscular trunk he was more than capable of swimming. He crosses the river easily his arms rising and falling in rhythmic unison. “Well let’s go guys and gals.” Ben tosses Belinda on his shoulders then folds up Chip’s wheelchair. Before he can lift it up Jamal politely takes it from him “I have it sir.” They wade into the water taking quick but careful steps. Carson looks at Lockett hunching his shoulders sloshing out into the water. Belinda giggles most of the way across having been reunited with her father. Chip waits patiently watching from the other side of the river flipping his hair back up out of his face. Tessa’s house was now engulfed in flames the smoke blowing in would shroud their escape. Jamal comes out of the river first taking the chair directly to Chip. Ben watches his son climb into his chair as he had done hundreds of times before but this time he felt some thing strange pride. Not proud that his son was physically handicapped but proud that the boy hadn’t allowed his disability to define him. “Head out everyone we’re coming.” Lockett calls from the center of the river black rifle held high over their heads. Jamal and Chip wait for Ben and Belinda before the all hustle off together. Seconds later Carson and Lockett weighed down by soaked battle fatigues beat off chasing down their group.

   The survivors run up a ridge then down a hill the smoke now the only sign of the chaos they’d left in Clow Oaks. They run on for what seems like an eternity crossing an expanse of grassy country overgrowth giving wide berths to any vegetation more than chest high. “Do we know where we are or are going?” Ben huffs stopping to catch his breath he places his daughter Belinda besides him. “Everybody huddle up.” They gather about in a circle wet and tired everyone panting except for Chip and Belinda. Sara Lockett looks back the way they had come the smoke spiraling skyward was now off to their left instead of behind them. “I don’t know this area and that damn coward bugged out on us.” She hisses. “Still I hope he made it if he can’t get back in time Mr. James he could prove to be a very dangerous adversary to everyone at the farmhouse.” They all look to their De Facto leader who is lost in thought. “Damn this is getting old.” He thinks rubbing his forehead. The sound of a branch breaking echoes from a dense thicket of trees a few acres from where they stand exposed. Carson taps Lockett’s shoulders pointing two fingers at his eyes then to pair of massive dead tree trunks. She motions for them to take cover and they all scramble for the trees. Once they are hidden Lockett hands Ben the hunting rifle. She hesitates briefly before giving Jamal the Uzi White Magic has tossed aside. “Look umm the safety is off sooooooo ….” She taps the short stubby barrel. “Point this end away from us and pull the trigger.” She gives the shy former college student a short lesson on proper firearm safety. Chip presses against the tree Belinda at his side he retrieves his dad’s pistol. They all aim over the fallen trees at the tree line waiting for this new threat to materialize. “If they don’t see us let them pass stay low and quite.” Lockett whispers around. “If who doesn’t see you?” a woman says behind them. They turn shocked to see a lean brunette woman with gold wire rimmed glasses standing behind them. She had come up on their rear as they focused on the tree line. “The zombies …” Locket says cautiously to the woman in the hunters camouflaged. She wears at cap on her head with a ponytail dangling from beneath it. Her hands are shoved low in her pockets a beautiful hunting rifle hangs lazily over her shoulder. The woman appears not to have a care in the world as if the whole zombie apocalypse thing hadn’t affected her. “Yeah I heard about them zombies and let me tell you The Lord is clearly not pleased with us.” She says looking back toward the smoke miles away. “I’m sorry where are my manners? You folks look like you could use a hand.” She takes a pronounced step forward. “I mean you no harm name’s Miriam Jacobs ….” She stops abruptly her hands held passively in the air. “…. I am Pastor Miriam Jacobs of the First New Faith Baptist Church to be exact.” Miriam notices the group relax upon hearing she is the leader of a house of worship. “I was out hunting for food for my congregation I got a truck back in the woods a bit. I will take you folks back with me it’s a little safer where I’m from.” Lockett looks to Benjamin James for guidance. “My name Benjamin James Ma’am and we have to get back to the rest of our group Ma’am but thank you anyway.” The woman produces a set of binoculars focusing back the way they had come from. “You sure cause it looks like you have some followers.” She can see a group of corpses some of them still smoldering coming into view miles behind them. “I’ll get you back to your people later but I suggest we leave now.” She cocks an eyebrow. Ben looks over the logs he can just see the relentless zombies now. “Alright Pastor Miriam Jacobs we’ll take that now ride …if you don’t mind.” Ben picks Belinda up. She turns back the way she’d come. “Follow me folks and no need to be so formal folks round these parts call me The Sin Preacher.”

 

 

 

Benjamin James has lead a group to successfully rescue his children Chip and Belinda but at what cost? White Magic their host who knows then ends and outs of the farmhouse where the rest of the group is hold up is missing. Now the question arises how much damage can the man who was bitten the day of "The Event" inflicted if he turns? The group is cut off by a huge heard of zombies so they run. While fleeing the undead they find themselves needing help of a Pastor who calls herself The Sin Preacher.

 

 

 

 

 

What's next for our survivors? Come back the week of April 14th to get the answers in Chapter 30 of The Living Dark.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Chapter 28: We Leave At Dawn

Chapter 28: We Leave At Dawn

   "Goooooood Moooooooorning zombie apocalypse survivors!" The static burst filled highly appropriate imitation of Robin Williams startles awake everyone sleeping in the damp concrete bunker. The old man on the other end of the microphone was one of the people White Magic stayed in contact with overnight. "Ernie you scared the crap outta of us dog wasup with that?" White Magic laughs into his handheld microphone. The whites of his blue eyes are red and not from lack of sleep. While the others slept White Magic partook of his time honored relaxation technique. The ashtray on the CB is packed with a healthy amount of ashes and joint butts. "Well I figured since we shared the same time zone that you and your guest needed know the Sun was up." White Magic scans the room quickly seeing the survivors who'd come knocking at his door yesterday. They’re already up and moving in a frenzy. "They are up now and so am I so it's time to get down to business Ernie. I'll talk to you tonight my bro." Magic releases the call button. Big Ben James comes stalking through the chaos right at Magic. Ben has the rifle his father in law gave him slug over his shoulder. "Let's go now!" White Magic hesitates for the briefest second. He takes in Ben's lack of tact and gratitude. Maybe it's the look on the man's face his dark skin sprinkled with sweat already or maybe its empathy. This is something White Magic has lacked for his entire life. He says nothing giving the distraught father a quick nod. "Alright Ern I’m checking out my brother you stay safe today alrighty?" Magic gingerly places the microphone back on the top of the black and chrome CB. "Hey ... hey Magic Man you still out there?" The grumpy old man shouts into the CB. Magic stops pulling the mic back up to his mouth. "Yeah Ernie I'm still here wasup man?!" A squelch of static pours from the ancient radio unit. "Do me a favor young buck. You tell that family with you that I'm not much on faith right now but if I was I'd be praying they find them kids of theirs safe and sound." The voice on the radio goes silent as does the bustling bunker. White Magic looks up at Ben James the man is chewing nervously on his bottom lip. For the first time in the short time he has known the husky black man. Magic sees a crack in the hard exterior Mr. James portrays. He deliberately moves the mic back to his mouth eyes still set on Ben. “I will Ernie …….I will and trust me my brother they appreciate yo concern. Stay safe bro we’ll keep ya posted Ernie.” Magic drops the microphone atop the CB.

    “Are you ready Big Poppa James?” Magic asks from his seat behind the desk. “First don’t call me Big Poppa …” Ben rubs his hand impatiently across his lips. “….and second of course I’m ready. Now can we go please?” Magic stands up chest to chest dwarfed by the much larger senior James. His picks up his sunglasses hesitating before placing them on his face. “First you called me Vanilla Ice yesterday Pops. I looked that motherfucker up online last night.” He taps the bulky black laptop with his index finger. “Ha ha very funny … So I figure I can call you Big Poppa James it makes us even.” Magic snorts placing the mirrored shades on his face. He takes his time to look about the room. His eyes settle on Anne and Brandon James. Leaning in to keep the conversation between the two of them White Magic speaks. “Big Poppa look here when I say are you ready? What I mean is you ready for what happens if yo kids aint out there? If we don’t find them man or worse yet bro if we do and…. And …well.” Ben’s burly chest heaves once White Magic takes the opportunity to step back and give the man his space. The rest of the occupants of the underground former bootleggers den stare at the two men in the rear. “No I’m not ready for that but I have to know for sure … for my family.” A look passes between the two men. White Magic pats Ben on his chest pushing past him he picks his Uzi from the rickety desk. The two proceed to the front of the structure joining the main group. Private Sara Lockett has the groups attention focused on her. “Mrs. James with your foot injured we will leave you here where it’s safe with little man.” The girl winks at Brandon who grins broadly his cheeks flushed beet red. “Private Medina will stay here as well. She’s up to holding down the fort but the effects of her concussion are much to pronounced for her to be good on the move.” She motions over to Bianca Fullerton. “Ma’am I assume you’ll want to stay here with your little ladies?” Bianca looks sheepishly at Anne James. “Yes .. Iffff that’s okay?” She says Anne reaches over pressing her hands over Bianca’s. “Its fine honey God knows we could use the company.” “How’s the ankle feeling Mrs. James?” Private Carson inquires. “It’s doing better sweetheart thank you for bandaging it for me.” She responds swiping a blond bang from her face. “So now that we settled that Mr. James the rest of us will be heading out now. I will take the lead Carson will bring up the rear anybody have any questions?” Locket feels her confidence returning thinking nothing of ordering the men gather about her around. “I have a question.” White Magic raises his hand. “I’m hungry can I grab something from my stash before we head out?” Private Lockett‘s mouth curls up at the corner. “No White Cheddar your stash is gone we fed the women and children first thing this morning. Also next apocalypse can you stock more rations than Twinkies, Mountain Dew and cheese spread?” Magic’s displeasure is obvious as he glares about the room pulling his glasses down. “So we…..” Private Lockett begins but is cutoff. “I have another question.” White Magic raises his hand defiantly. “Are you a lesbian?” He blurts as everyone in the groups shoots him disapproving glares. Private Locket chuckles not the first time a man with low self esteem has asked her the same tactless questions. “No White Bread why do you ask are you hoping I am so we can hook up?” Snickers from the adults gathered about the door cause White Magic to grit his teeth. He dramatically pushes his sunglasses back up to cover his eyes using his middle finger. “Seriously your home you lead the way White Lightening.” Private Lockett steps aside. “Oh well thank you my sister.” White Magic offers the girl a black power fist salute. “Now we gots to clear the house before we go outside we might be coming back in a hurry.” He twists the handle pulling the heavy door open with an ear splitting groan of rusted metal. Ben takes this time to head over to his wife kneeling down to kiss her lips. “Bring back our babies please Ben?” She pleads her eyes are glassy and red for the exact opposite reason White Magic’s are. “I will do everything I can baby I swear I will.” He tells her as Brandon dives into his father’s arms. Unlike his parents the tears flow freely down Brandon’s smooth cheeks. “Keep mom and the other ladies safe for me chief ok?” Ben tells his youngest son. The boy tilts his head up at his dad giving him an agreeable nod. “Mr. James we are waiting for you. “ Jamal says softly. Ben places his son down next to his wife. With that the group moves down the dirt corridor to the secret door. “Now check this out peoples this is the most dangerous part. If one of dem fuckers got in the basement last night we are gonna run right into it.” White Magic raps the false door with the stock of his Uzi. The hollow sound thrums through out the packed dirt tunnel. He waits having heard nothing ready to bang on the door again. Carson catches his hand. “Dude your slapping a loaded weapon with its safety off against a wall not smart.” Unlike his tit for tat with Lockett White Magic doesn’t offer up any sarcasm to Carson. Due in part to the fact that the younger Carson is easily twice Magic’s size. “Sorry Captain …” is all he says. Carson pounds the doors with one of his huge fist. They all listen closely “Aight we good.” White Magic pronounces. He reaches down for the handle on the bottom of the door. Those with guns ready them just incase. Jamal takes position at the back of the group holding his metal baseball bat he’d retrieved from the James duffel bag. Magic raises the wall section stepping back allowing it to roll up and back on its own. The group steps out into the dark basement it’s silent and devoid of any of the living dead. Lockett moves to the base of the stairs White Magic is on her heels with the rest of the group falling in line behind them. Once Lockett reaches the tops of the stairs she presses her ear against the wood. White Magic turns to the men following. “Yo check it me and the ball buster here will clear the back of the house. You three take the front and we will meet up there.” Lockett kicks the door with a combat boot covered foot. Lockett points two fingers at her eyes then at White Magic. He returns the gesture with thumbs up. Lockett swings the door wide her M-4 rifle held high moving methodically to the back of the farmhouse. Carson leads Ben and Jamal into the living room.

    It takes the survivors several minuets to clear the house from top to bottom. Back down in the center of the living room light beams in from various points. Lockett stows her rifle at her side. “Carson run back down stairs and let them know the house is secure. Tell them we are going to lock the door back and not to take chances.” Private Cody Carson takes off back downstairs as ordered. “White Rice do you have a plan as to how we are going to hit this sub division?” Ben can see the frustration brimming in the young man’s face. He taps Lockett’s elbow hoping she will relent or at the very least ease up until he no longer needs the boy’s help. White Magic goes into a side bedroom peeling back the curtain covering the window enough to see the battered white cargo van. “Well you guys brought company but they seem to have thinned out.” He holds the slit wider leaning back for everyone to see. About twenty zombies mill about in the general area of the stalled van waiting to catch the scent of the living. “The second we are exposed they will be drawn to us like flies on stink.” Ben says. “There is no way we can make it safely down there with them chasing us. I was hoping we could gas it up Magic I don’t relish the idea of walking. What if we have to go farther away from the farmhouse?” Magic lets the curtain go as Carson comes up from the basement. “Big Poppa don’t fret playa I have no desire to go for walk out there either. In the farm out front is my grandpa’s beat up ass pickup truck.” They move back to the front room of the house. Magic produces a set of keys jingling them seductively. “I know it runs cause I fired it up yesterday. We check the front of the house head out to the barn hop in our chariot pull out lock the barn and get down there and back here. I don’t want to be outside long I need to be near my lights and bunker.” He announces holding up his wounded arm. The white gauze is filthy with a deep blackish stain surrounded by a wide brown ring. “Hey bro let me clean that for you it’s looking kind of ratty.” Carson offers his first aid skills having reentered the living room. “Nah ….” Magic looks at his arm the white gauze was indeed grimy looking. “It’ll be fine I hope it’s healing well.” Magic catches the look passing between Lockett and Carson. “You two got a problem or something’?” Magic steps up defensively. Carson does a double take at the dreadlock covered cliché puffing his chest out. Carson tells White Magic. “Look I don’t give a shit about this whole zombie thing your theory on turning is as sound as anything else I’ve seen low these last few days. I need to make sure you’re healthy you’re not invincible you can still succumb to an infection. We and the James family need you healthy and on point that’s all we care about understand?” Magic and Carson size each other up briefly tempers getting the best of them. Ben steps between the pair asserting his male dominance. “Hey tone it down I need to get to my kids and I need you both so put your nuts back in your pockets.” Private Lockett snickers moving past a confused Jamal who clearly doesn’t understand the metaphor he’s just heard. She kneels down looking out of the filthy window. “Hey White Wash …….I’m sorry White Magic can we do this? The smell up here is really getting to me and we need to get this mission underway.” An angry sigh from the young man shows that her needling is having an effect on their host. “Yes ….” He forces through gritted teeth. “Hey Bigfoot you bring up the rear pull the door shut and giggle the knob to make sure it’s locked ok?” Carson opens his mouth to speak but Ben stifles his words with a paw to his chest. “Shut your mouths and open your damn ears.” Ben’s words are low and fierce. He takes time to stare into the eyes of each member of his rescue party. “My fucking children are out there somewhere and right now unfortunately you guys are helping me find them. However let’s be clear about one thing I don’t need you to help me I am going out this door with or without you fine people.” His speech brings all present back to reality. “We are going out in to what is essentially an apocalyptic wasteland. So if not for me at least for yourself pull your heads outta your asses and pay attention. Not a one of us is immune or guaranteed to make it through today alive get it?” Ben moves up besides the front door cocking the bolt on his hunting rifle. Lockett avoids eye contact with Ben James moves up placing a hand on the cold bronze doorknob. Magic crouches behind her as Jamal and Carson bring up the rear. Ben whispers to Carson. “We three will hit the ground running Carson you will secure the door and Jamal you will watch his back ok?” Carson signals yes with his head as Jamal answers “Yes Mr. James.” Private Sara Lockett raises three olive gloved fingers in a silent count down. When she hits zero Lockett pulls the door wide and bolts out into the bright crisp sunlight. Magic and Ben follow on her boot heels.

  Jogging down the porch and across the grass each with their respective weapons raised high. Private Lockett encounters the first zombie ambling forward near a large tree. The armless female moans into the wind alerting other nearby walking corpses. Lockett doesn’t slow unsheathing her polished jagged combat knife. Sara drops the rifle to her side flipping the knife around savagely driving the blade down into the zombie’s forehead. Lockett moves on drawing closer to the barn. She picks up at least four corpses bearing down upon them two from the driveway and two adjacent to the old red barn. Lockett reaches the barn first turning her back on the locked doors she takes up a flanking position on the right of Magic. Ben nervously takes up position on the left he can see Carson and Jamal barreling down off the porch. Now in plain view on the side of house Ben notices the pack of zombies making its way up from his construction van. “We have company coming Magic.” Ben says bringing his weapon to bear on a lone zombie several feet away. Jamal moves in quickly crushing the dead man’s skull before Ben fires a shot. Ben sights another zombie who has wondered into the space between Carson and Jamal. Benjamin aims the rifle muzzle over Jamal’s left shoulder. He’s distracted by a melodic whistle from Carson. Ben freezes as the athletic young soldiers pulls his blade jabbing it under the preoccupied corpses chin by reaching up from behind. Private Cody Carson lifts the slack zombie up off its feet tossing it aside like a garbage bag. “Got it!” Magic shouts pulling the latch on the doors open. Tossing the truck’s keys to Ben he backs into Lockett clumsily knocking her forward into the two zombies coming down from the gravel driveway. Lockett doesn’t panic she drives a boot into the kneecap of the zombie on her left. Simultaneously she lashes out with an elbow pulverizing the nose of the corpse on her right staggering her attacker. Chaining her blows Sara Lockett buries her knife up to the hilt in the eye socket of the undead woman with the crushed kneecap. Snatching the gore covered knife free she flips it in the air catching it with her free hand. Sara slams the blade into the top of the disorientated zombie with pulped nose’s head. Magic is still staring slack jawed at the female soldier whose actions seems fit more Hollywood than reality. The well maintained engine on the twenty year old rusty blue Ford pick truck catches with the first twist of the key. Ben pulls the truck out past the quartet with zombies approaching from their right. “Get in back guys!” Ben screams out the window of the idling truck. Jamal and the pair of soldiers hop into the rear bed of the truck as White Magic hastily secures the barn doors once more. Magic makes it’s to the cab of the pick up jumping in next to Benjamin James narrowly avoiding the grasping fingers of the dead as he tugs the door closed. "Go ... go ... go Big Poppa!" Magic screams leaning over hoping to avoid having the window shatter in his face. Ben drops the pickup in to gear pounding his foot to the floor. The truck peels out fishtailing throwing gravel and dust up as they speed away from the farm.

     The two men in the cab flinch as someone pounds on the window behind them. "Slow down ..." Carson yells through the glass. Magic pulls the sliding window section open. "Slow down are you crazy Big Money?" He calls back to the blond soldier leaning in the window. "No I'm not man the house is surrounded by those things. We couldn't see the one's on the other side." Ben brakes hard the truck skidding sideways to a stop. His breath freezes in his lungs when he catches a view of what's behind them in the side view mirror. A zombie horde moves in mass from the opposite side of the house. It overtakes engulfing the smaller pack that was pestering the group as they headed for the barn. The zombies that had chased the survivors from the massacre at the blockade had encircled the house during the night. Ben presumes it was all in a futile attempt to locate the living. "Thank God he stopped me from coming out last night." Ben thinks to himself. "We have to lead them away I'm not for any of that Night of The Living Dead crap." Carson says though the window. “When we comeback they will be waiting on us Mr. James." With that he disappears out the window. Carson stands up in the truck bed placing two fingers in his mouth unleashing a shrill high pitched whistle. Moans go up from the dead their aimless shambling becomes a staggering gait with a purpose. "Hey guys we're heading this way ..." He mockingly waves to the gathering zombies. "Cool now we just have to stay in sight Mr. James. If the can see us I assume they will follow us even from a distance." "Good catch Carson ....." Ben tells the young man who smiles before taking his seat. By the time the beat up pickup rolls to the end of the white gravel driveway. The truck is towing several dozen of the undead begrudgingly behind it. “Big Poppa make this left and we will slope right down into that sub division I was telling yawl about bro.” Ben does as he’s been told following the gravel until it opens to an asphalt road. The road merges seamlessly onto the road that had carried the James children away from the relative safety of their family. “Uh Mr. James can we speed it up a bit please?” Jamal says politely through the window. The zombies at the head of the pack are now less than five feet from them. The truck driving faster crests the top of the slope with the scene spread below them. “There … there Mr. James.” Lockett slaps the roof of the truck motioning in the distance. They look down to the right across the expansive decimated sub division below. In the rear of the sprawling development dead center in the last row of cloned houses they see hive of undead activity. One house seems to be very popular with the living dead. Zombies flock in droves to the front of the besieged house attempting to get at whoever is unlucky enough to be trapped inside.

 

 

 

 

  We find the survivors waking up and rallying to get their search for Chip and Belinda James. The group is apprehensive not knowing what they will find in their search. Ben has to lay down the law with the rambunctious younger members of his troop. What will they find in the house at the bottom of the hill? Will it be Chip and B and will they get there in time to save them?

 

 

 

 

 

Come back and read Chapter 29 the week of March 31st.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Living Dark

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 27: From the Mouth of Babes

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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The Living Dark