Paula gripped the zombie’s arms as it pinned her to the ground before lifting a knee into its face, but it shook off the attack, moving at speed to try to bite her.
“Fuck off and leave me alone!” she hollered, trying to kick it.
She became soaked by the wetness on the ground; the grip on the zombie’s arms slipping to leave her in tears as she desperately tried to break free. She screamed out again but a torrent of maggots dropped from the hole in the zombie’s face to land in her mouth. She tried to spit them out but was forced to swallow some as the zombie wriggled more frantically; getting closer and closer to biting her face as its toxic breath momentarily strangled her.
Paula lashed out with every ounce of energy she had but the zombie remained on top of her, snapping its teeth and snarling. She shook her head as more maggots landed on her face before cringing hysterically when one of her hands let go. She cried after the zombie’s nails ripped down her cheek; its nose twitching as it sniffed the blood dripping down her face before its grotesque tongue licked it. Paula was close to fainting as the creature thrashed about in excitement; the taste of the blood driving it crazy to want to taste more. But Paula couldn’t keep it at bay any longer and her other hand let go.
She stared at its eye-socket, watching it get closer and closer until feeling a sharp pain in her neck; listening to the zombie drink the blood that was pouring out of her as it chewed on her flesh. She tried kicking out again, slapping at the zombie’s face to get it to back off, but it growled, biting her throat for a second time.
Paula was too weak to move as the zombie bit into her shoulder; her eyes flickering to remain open until releasing her last breath.
The zombie growled like a wild animal before sniffing the air and rising to its feet, licking blood off its face as it glared in the direction of where Amy was last seen.
***
Amy stopped running to catch her breath, as her mind overflowed with the recent trauma. She cried into her hands after a reminder of Paula’s echoing pleas for help almost sunk her to her knees; dripping sweat fast as she sadly looked over to where she’d come from.
“Paula! Paula! Are you okay?... Please answer me?”
She shouted for the next few minutes, waiting for a reply she knew she wasn’t going to get; fearing the worst as more tears fell. She felt guilty, cowardly, and disgusted with herself for her actions, wanting now to run back, but her feet wouldn’t move. She knew she was in deep trouble if she remained inside the forest but was too heartbroken to budge.
She heard the zombie’s groans closing in but couldn’t pinpoint where it was. She knew it was slow, but, as it appeared from a cluster of trees, its movement increased and it was close to running. The sight petrified her, even more, making her legs heavy, feeling like they were encased in concrete as her heart pumped faster and faster. She could see the bloodstains and chunks of flesh trapped between the zombie’s teeth as it howled at her; snapping them to leave her cursing in fear because it reminded her of Frankenstein’s monster. But this monster was picking up speed.
Amy shivered as sweat dripped down her brow, but she didn’t move until the zombie almost reached her. She screamed at it and ran as fast as she could, not looking back until knowing she had made some distance. She scanned the area to see a fence she recognised, smiling nervously as she followed it back towards the car, but her heart skipped a beat after finding no car keys in her pockets.
“Shit! Fucking shit! Where are they?” she bellowed.
She sobbed some more as she kicked the car until remembering she’d left the keys in the ignition; wiping her eyes dry before reaching for the driver’s door. She sighed when it opened, feeling thankful for being stubborn enough to leave the keys behind; leaping into the seat and shutting the door to lock it quickly and turning the key. But the car still wouldn’t start. Again and again, she tried, but nothing was happening. She slammed a fist against the steering wheel before making sure all the doors were locked; her heartbeat slowing again after feeling safe. She swiftly looked all around her, hoping and praying that the thing she saw had gone down another path; thinking that maybe someone would pass by soon to save her from the madness.
There must be farmworkers around these parts. Perhaps my knight in shining armour will appear on a tractor and save me from the madman.
She leaned over the passenger seat before opening the glove compartment; rushing a hand inside to flip items out of the way in the hope of finding something she could use as a weapon in case the strange weirdo attacked. But something shuffled outside the car that briefly froze her again. She breathed deeply as she slowly moved towards the passenger side window, lifting her head and smiling to see a rabbit run away. She sighed again and moved back into her seat, but, as she returned into an upright position, became freaked out by the sight of the zombie glaring at her, drooling down the window as maggots squirmed around on its face. Amy frantically bounced up and down in the seat as fear for her life overtook other emotions; screaming louder and louder until her voice croaked.
The zombie slobbered some more before sending out a droning moan; slamming a fist against the window to scatter glass particles over Amy’s face and body as the fingers from its insect filled hand clenched her hair tight. But Amy just placed arms over her face, crying until the tears stung her eyes.
The zombie pulled harder on her hair to leave infected scratches on her scalp, close to ripping chunks from her head to make her cringe as she plucked up the courage to slap at its arm. It was a desperate attempt to gain freedom, but it was no use, the thing wouldn’t let go.
Amy yelped when her hair finally tore away, but, instead of escaping out of the other door, she bit deep into the zombie’s colourless hand, drawing lifeless blood. She stared at the monster as the thick redness trickled from her mouth, hoping her bravery would spook it to back off. But the zombie snarled at her.
She spat out the rotten, maggot tasting blood as her hair was grabbed again, but this time the zombie retreated its arm to pull her head towards the broken window. Amy yelped over and over again but the zombie wasn’t letting go. She tried punching the arm but her head was still closing in, getting nearer and nearer to the jagged edges of glass still embedded in the window frame. She knew there was no escape.
She took a deep breath as her head entered the frame; her right eye puncturing to leave dark juice seeping down her face as a weak scream escaped her mouth. She gritted her teeth as the zombie pulled her out of the car, glass tearing flesh from her body as she was tossed onto the ground.
She lay on her back as the blood drained out of her, too fragile to move as her damaged eye hung over her blackened face. The grass around her slowly turning crimson as the red liquid spluttered from her mouth.
She gulped as the zombie picked up a shattered piece of glass, watching it stand next to her to quiver as the blood in her mouth filled up faster than she could spit it out.
The zombie grinned sadistically as it studied her before slowly kneeling to almost touch her head. It raised the piece of glass and thrust it down, pushing and pushing it through her head until the point sunk into the grass.
EIGHT
The soil covering the new resting home of Vincent’s mother slowly shifted, revealing fingers as an arm stripped of skin landed on top of the grave. Seconds later another arm appeared before the head and a frail body followed, showing a grotesque figure wearing a torn dress with a crucifix around its neck lifting out of the ground. It snarled, exposing gums as it sniffed the air.
It stared at the high fencing separating the garden from the next one as a whimpering sound was heard behind it; snarling again after a loud scratching loosened one of the wooden fence panels.
Behind it was Bruno; the neighbour’s Doberman dog. He’d become excited by the zombie’s sounds.
The dog growled before chewing the panel until it cracked; tearing a piece away to leave a hole big enough to place its head inside. It saw the zombie move away from the grave but it didn’t ba
rk. It just whimpered excitedly even more as it tore away more wood; squeezing its body through the hole to enter the garden.
Bruno wagged his tail as the zombie staggered from side to side; its mouth snapping at thin air as it walked barefoot across the dirt and onto the grass. It stopped to glare at Bruno, twitching its head as loose flesh hung down from its face, but it wasn’t snarling anymore. It just looked at the dog closing in, sniffing the insects dropping from its body.
Bruno didn’t seem frightened by the zombie’s appearance, somehow seeing beyond the mutilation to still vision the old lady who used to give it baked cookies, so ran around the zombie, hoping it would give chase. But it didn’t.
The dog stopped running and shuffled closer, almost touching the zombie’s dirty feet to shake falling insects off its back. It looked up to see the creature point a finger before a rasping sound escaped its mouth. Then the word – “Brrruuunnnooo” was heard.
It excited the dog.
It wagged its tail at twice the speed after the zombie reached down to touch its fur; feeling the bony hand stroke down its back before sitting upright. But, as both sets of eyes connected, the zombie lunged for Bruno’s throat, tightening its grip rapidly. The dog yelped but it didn’t react aggressively or try to escape. Even whilst choking, Bruno just stared at the zombie, thinking it to be the frail old lady.
A soundless squeal escaped as Bruno’s tongue flapped in the cool breeze; eyes turning cloudy-white as a final breath was released.
The zombie stared at the animal, not letting go as flashbacks cluttered up its mind. It tried to smile but quickly became aggressive again, feeling a desire to feed on the dog. But, as it lifted Bruno to its mouth, was left angry for not being able to take a bite. It snapped gums onto Bruno’s neck again before letting go; snarling as the dog dropped to the ground.
The zombie turned to face the house, sniffing the air again to leave a huge grin on its face. It slowly moved away from the dog to spot something glisten at the edge of the garden; the sun’s rays bouncing off the item to make it shine as the creature neared. It bent down awkwardly and picked it up, revealing the Stanley knife that Vincent forgot to store away, with the blade still showing.
The zombie turned the knife in its scrawny right hand, glaring at the back door of the house as dribble rolled down its rotting chin. It walked towards the door, touching it to slide a hand up and down before groaning like it had forgotten how to open it; bumping its head against a wall in rage until accidentally flicking the door handle down. It opened it, pushing it wider to enter the kitchen, but it stopped and scowled at the new worktops, cooker, and cupboards. It wasn’t impressive.
The zombie growled.
It held the knife out in front, turning it again and again as if wanting to attack an invisible enemy; swinging its hand as it moved along the room. It saw another door so slowly neared it, but the swinging hand crashed against a saucepan hanging on the wall, sending it smashing to the floor as the door burst open.
Mary stood in the doorway, open-mouthed and struggling to breathe; the sight of the zombie spooking her to collapse to the floor as her heart beat faster and faster until she was close to fainting. But she pushed her bum into the carpet and retreated like someone rowing a boat, moving her legs and hands at speed to get away from the thing in front of her. But the zombie followed, waving the knife in the air.
Mary reached a wall, sweating fast; eyeballing the intruder to see if it would strike. But it stopped and just watched her, giving her time to rise off the ground. She shivered, too scared to shout out for help; watching the zombie stare at her like it was studying her; seeing it lower the knife before rasping out the word – “Mar.”
Mary swallowed hard, blinking fast; seeing beneath the flaking, stinking mass of filth that covered the zombie’s face and body. She recognised the way it stood. It reminded her of Margaret, Vincent’s mother, but it wasn’t until seeing the crucifix that she believed it.
The zombie tried to say her name again but Mary was freaking out more and more.
She slowly moved to her left to reach another door but the zombie’s head turned in the same direction to stop her, frightening her into not knowing what to do next.
She gulped as insects squirmed out of the zombie; seeing them drop to the floor to carry on across the carpet as the creature touched what was left of its hair. Mary winced when some fell out in its hand. She heard the zombie snarl as it raised the knife again; swinging it rapidly towards itself to slice into its left arm as coagulated blood seeped out like thick, dark oil.
Mary wanted to, needed to escape, but she couldn’t budge. All she could do was watch the thing in front of her tear at its arm until it was close to hanging off before it stopped to glare at her; making her freak out even more.
She took a deep breath before racing towards the nearest door, gripping the handle to pull it to her, but the zombie picked up speed, closing in to drag her back before skimming the knife blade across her left cheek, leaving a deep cut. Mary yelped as she placed a hand over it, but the stinging, throbbing pain as the blood seeped beneath her fingers brought tears to her eyes. She stood in the middle of the living room in a state of pure shock, not able to think straight as the zombie grinned; licking its decomposing lips as it sniffed the blood.
“Who are you?! What do you want?!” Mary shouted at it as the blood ran down her hand. “You look like my husband’s mother, but you can’t be, she’s dead. So, who the hell are you?”
She was now covered in a blanket of fear as crazy thoughts about her mother-in-law overloaded her brain.
What the hell had happened?
She watched the zombie snap its mouth, as what was left of its nostrils twitched before desperately searching the room for something to fend it off with; seeing a walking stick that Vincent used on his long walks standing in a corner. She retreated to more snarls but was able to make some distance to reach an armchair before the creature moved towards her; pushing the chair out in front for protection in the hope of keeping the mad freak at arm’s length. But, as the tears suddenly rolled down her cheeks followed by another burst of nerves, she became too petrified to reach for the stick. She stared at the phone, trying to convince herself that she had enough time to make a call, but reality kicked in and she knew it was too risky to try. So, she just waited to see what the zombie would do.
It snarled again, moving towards her, pushing against the chair to force it away from her grasp, but this time Mary screamed, sending a shrill bouncing off the walls to stall the zombie’s attack. She took another breath, hoping that her cry for help would cause the zombie to back off, but it refocused to lash out, smashing into the armchair to send it spinning across the room.
Mary pleaded with the human-like creature but knew her words were being wasted. It snarled at her again, raising the knife to scare her into almost shrinking to her knees in submission, but she plucked up the courage to move towards the stick; reaching for it as a sharp pain stung her back. She turned awkwardly, seeing the knife blade drip blood, knowing now what had happened as the pain increased. She felt the wetness of liquid slide down her back, turning her cream-coloured long skirt red as the blood dripped onto the carpet. She closed her eyes for a second, hoping it was just a dream, but the zombie grabbed her, pinching fingers into her flesh.
It eyed the recent wound, licking its lips as Mary pulled away to grab the stick. She swung it as hard as she could at the torn arm until it ripped away and dropped to the floor, choking as it slithered along the carpet to try to reach her.
She kicked it against a wall before stupidly barging into the beast to escape into the kitchen, but her trailing arm was gripped tight to stop her. She frantically shouted at the zombie, slapping a hand at its face until popping out an eye to watch it swing from the optic nerve cable, but, as she tried to pull free, was violently launched into the air. She crashed hard against the television set to send it smashing against a wall, leaving a painful shiver down her back as she silently lay
on the floor. She heard the neighbour screeching out his disgust at the racket coming from her house, with the last few words being - “Keep the fucking noise down!”
Mary tried to move but her body was battered and bruised. She knew she had at least one broken rib. She slowly returned to her feet, feeling dazed as her breathing became harder to achieve; unable to avoid more stinging cuts to her face as the blade swung in her direction to blur her vision. She lifted her hands to protect herself but they too were sliced. She pleaded once again to be left alone, not knowing where the beast would strike next.
She became more frightened as thoughts of being killed by the hands of the thing that reminded her of her mother-in-law smothered her mind, but, even though she wanted to scream again, she couldn’t do it. She was too petrified to try.
She swung her wounded hands at thin air, hoping to catch the creature with a lucky strike, but it clamped a hand onto her jaw to slam her head loudly against the wall above the fireplace. Its croaky growl scared her into wetting herself as the cold, bloodied blade rested on the tip of her nose. Then, a second later, the tip was sectioned off. Blood gushed down over her mouth and chin, soaking into her blouse, as the zombie sucked it off her face.
And Mary just let it. She was too weak to move.
NINE
The corpse of Rodney Wilson staggered along the country lane as the fresh blood slowly mixed in with the crusty mud patches of the worn away clothing, giving it more colour. It didn’t seem bothered where it was going. It was just on a journey to anywhere.
***
An engine roared in the distance, increasing as the seconds ticked by; causing the zombie to lift its head as its only eye flicked from side to side. It moaned, pointing out in front as it neared a bend in the road, but the sound got closer and closer to confuse it. It carried on walking as a large, Volvo truck closed in, slobbering and moaning whilst feeling around the hole in its face. But it suddenly stopped, becoming unsettled after the noise increased again. It acted like it wasn’t sure of what to do; close to toppling over as it picked up speed to head towards the side of the road, but, after the driver of the truck blasted the horn repeatedly, the zombie stopped again to place hands on its head. It heard the horn blast again, becoming more confused as it faced the truck.
Clifton Falls: A Zombie Story [Part 1] Page 6