Clifton Falls: A Zombie Story [Part 1]

by Taylor, Lee Andrew

  “Get out of the fuckin’ way!” the driver hollered, slamming on the brakes.

  But the zombie acted like a statue.

  The truck screeched along the road, leaving black tyre imprints behind as it smashed into the living corpse, severing it on impact. The head landing in the path of the front wheels to be squashed as the truck came to a stop. The driver sat in a state of shock, pure white as he stared at the body parts attached to the blood-spattered windscreen; gulping hard before suddenly puking violently over the passenger seat. He felt lucky not to have lost full control.

  He composed himself and exited, breathing deep to hold back tears as he moved to the front of the truck, seeing chunks of flesh, organs and more blood attached to it before collapsing to his knees after spotting a torso on the edge of the road. He closed his eyes and sobbed loudly as thoughts flashed inside his mind of why the person just stood in his way? before opening his eyes and wiping his face. He purposely avoided the carnage before returning to the truck; shaking from thoughts of what to say to the police?

  How do I explain this?

  He sat in his seat, reaching for a mobile phone to curse under his breath as the number dialled; breathing loud and heavy as he waited for someone to answer.

  ***

  It took over ten minutes before a police car appeared in the distance, flashing its lights as it slowed down to pull up on the opposite side of the road. Its occupants were Wayne Strong, a thirty-five-year-old sergeant who needed to be precise in everything he did, and Jason Bark, a twenty-one-year-old rookie constable.

  They exited the car to glare at the driver before shaking their heads at the gruesome sight; cautiously walking towards him as he jumped down from the truck.

  “Was it you who made the phone call?” Wayne asked, pulling out a pad. “Reporting an accident on the road.”

  “Yes. It was.”

  “And you are?”

  “Frank. My name is Frank,” the truck driver said, still shaking at what he’d done. “I can explain.”

  “No need to explain, sir. I think I know what happened.”

  Wayne stared the bulky man up and down, hoping he wasn’t going to run as Jason aimed for the blood-bath on the road; writing down notes as he tried to make his conclusion on what happened.

  “But I need to tell you the truth.” Frank was close to crying again after watching Wayne touch his baton. “I know what you’re thinking. You think I killed someone. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “No one thinks that sir, but if you want to explain it then I’m all ears…We can do it at the station.”

  Frank shook even more as a severed arm flopped down the windscreen to land at Jason’s feet.

  “I shouted at the person to get off the road, but they wouldn’t move.”

  “So, you thought you’d run them down instead?” Wayne asked, scrunching his lips. “Did you know the person? Did they annoy you?”

  “Yeah…Was the person sleeping with your partner?” Jason interrupted, grinning like a hyperactive child.

  “No! No! No!” Frank bellowed; worrying the officers to grip their batons. “You have to believe me…I braked hard to avoid the person, but he just stood in the road like he wanted me to hit him.”

  Wayne and Jason looked at the skid-marks left by the truck. They knew Frank was telling the truth about slamming on his brakes, so backed down on thinking it was a deliberate hit. But the thought of how the person became dismantled? racked their brains.

  They remained cautious as Frank’s nervous streak almost caused him to faint; watching him sit on the step below the driver’s side door before taking their hands off the batons.

  “We believe you never meant to harm the person,” Wayne said, closing in to grip Frank’s shoulder. “But it’s still hard to work out why the person was torn to pieces?”

  “I honestly don’t know the answer,” Frank replied, pointing down the road where he’d just come from. “I came around that corner, saw him, slammed on my brakes. I was only going around ten miles an hour when I hit him, so it doesn’t make sense.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Jason interrupted again. “I can see his torso on the side of the road.”

  “This is fucked up!” Wayne snapped. “Take photos of the carnage and send them back to base…I think it’s going to be a long day.”

  “Will do,” Jason replied, jotting down more words before getting out his phone. “Let’s hope someone can work out why it happened?”

  Wayne grimaced after watching Jason snap photos of the windscreen and the road before seeing him calmly walk over to the torso, acting like it was just a video game rather than a real-life crime scene. He knew he was in charge of Jason but he struggled to keep him in the here-and-now; hating how easily Jason switched from fantasy to reality to drive him up the wall. He shook his head, letting Jason do what he needed to do, hoping it was just his way of coping with the situation.

  Jason took photos of the torso but gulped after feeling something squish beneath his boot; looking down to flinch at the sight of a human heart on the road.

  “Fuck me…I’ve ruined my new boots,” he said, wiping off congealed blood before returning to the others. “The man’s heart was on the ground.” He glanced at Frank and shook his head. “The body looks like it’s been macheted to death and not run over, as our witness here described.”

  Jason always thought the worst in other people, especially strangers. According to him, they were all murderers in the making, so it wasn’t surprising for him to find another explanation for what happened? But it usually took Wayne longer before following suit.

  Wayne bent down to examine the arm that’d fallen off the windscreen, picking at it with his pen before smelling its putrid aroma; holding his nose to choke at how decayed it was. He knew the person was dead long before the truck ran him down, even though his mind tried convincing him otherwise.

  No one could have killed this person within the past few hours or even the past week, so what is going on?

  He looked at Jason as thoughts of him being right about Frank being a murderer made him angry. He knew it was the only possible reason. Frank had murdered someone and had tried to dispose of them.

  “You said the person stood in the road just before you knocked him down,” he said to Frank, trying hard to keep calm.

  Frank just nodded.

  “…So why does the body look like it’s been dead for over a week?”

  Frank’s eyes widened. “I don’t know, but it was walking. I swear it.”

  Wayne pointed at the arm before ordering Jason to near it. “Can you smell anything?”

  “Yeah…It smells like it’s gone off,” Jason replied, returning to his feet. “I could smell it when I was taking photos of the body parts but I didn’t want to say anything in case you laughed at me.”

  “I can see why you’d think that,” Wayne said, turning to Frank. “This is your last chance, to tell the truth. What the fuck happened here?...”

  Frank stared at the body parts, not saying a word as Wayne lost his patience.

  “…I’ll tell you what I think happened, shall I?!” he screamed at Frank, clenching a fist like he was about to punch him. “I think you murdered the man over a week ago and stored his body in the back of your truck. Then, you drove down this quiet country lane to dispose of it. But you knew it was too risky so you decided to hack it to pieces before running over it. Then you phoned the police with this bullshit story.”

  Wayne waited for Frank to agree, but he was still silent.

  “Shall I fetch the breathalyser?” Jason asked, wanting to be more involved. “He looks drunk.”

  “Nah…This man isn’t drunk,” Wayne replied, glaring at Frank. “He’s just in shock after realising what he’s done…”

  Jason nodded before moving towards the truck; opening the driver’s door to step inside. But he exited briskly after seeing the puke.

  “…Did you find anything useful?”

  “No. It’s all good,” J
ason replied cringing.

  Frank crumbled to his knees, repeating over-and-over the words – I never killed anyone – before puffing out his cheeks; shaking his head in an attempt to convince Wayne that he may be wrong on his verdict.

  But Wayne just looked at Jason and shrugged before helping Frank off the ground.

  “Right, listen, Frank. This whole situation is fucked up. Too fucked up for me to know what to do and what to believe.”

  “So, what are you saying?” Frank nervously asked. “Am I being arrested or not?”

  Wayne lashed out, kicking a tyre before biting his bottom lip.

  “There’s something in what you’ve told us.” Wayne tried to smile but couldn’t do it. “On another day I would be hauling you into the station. But we’re short-staffed, meaning my partner and I need to stay here to sort this mess out.”

  “And me?”

  “You’ll have to go to the station without us.” Wayne pointed at Frank like he was telling him off before slowly moving his finger to aim it down the road. “If you fail to arrive then we’ll hunt you down…Are you hearing me?”

  “Loud and clear.”

  “Good…Drive down to the junction at the end of this stretch of road and turn right. The station is about two miles from there. You can’t miss it…I’ll let them know you are arriving.”

  “But we need the truck for forensics,” Jason barked.

  “I know that, but he can still drive it as long as he doesn’t wipe away the evidence…The truck will be easier to examine if it’s parked outside the station.”

  Jason just smiled and nodded as Wayne turned to Frank.

  “Just sit in the driver’s seat and drive. Do not turn on your windscreen wipers. Have you got that?”

  “I’ve got it,” replied Frank, feeling less anxious as he climbed back inside the truck. “I’m on my way there now.”

  He started it up again, slowly moving forward to squash the body parts on the road; looking in the side mirror to see Wayne and Jason shake their heads.

  Wayne returned to the police car to the sound of Jason choking after glancing at the splattered mess. Now feeling faint as he caught Wayne up.

  “I thought we were staying here?” Jason asked, spitting out puke. “That’s what you told the driver.”

  “I just want to give the area a quick swoop, see if anything else appears out of the ordinary first. Then we’ll come back.”

  “Okay.”

  ***

  Wayne drove further down the road, concentrating on what was ahead whilst Jason looked out the side window; whizzing his eyes from right to left in search of more clues. But he almost got whiplash after the car suddenly halted.

  “Jeez!” he shouted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did something run out in front?”

  Wayne never answered. He just stared to his right.

  Jason leaned forward to follow Wayne’s vision, spotting another car parked on the side of the road to make him curious.

  “Could be connected?” he said. “Let’s check it out.”

  “Phone it in first…I want to know whom that vehicle belongs to.”

  Wayne pulled over on the opposite side of the road as Jason made a call to the station; passing over the number plate of the empty vehicle before waiting for a reply. But Wayne’s patience faded fast. He exited the car, breathing heavily as he stared at the other vehicle, feeling nervous as he waited for Jason to finish the call.

  He did within a minute.

  “It’s registered to a Miss Amy Thompson!” he shouted, opening the door. “But she’s not from around here.”

  Wayne moved closer to the mystery vehicle until spotting the smashed driver’s side window; cringing after seeing spots of blood at the bottom. He held up a hand to stall Jason before slowly reaching out to touch the passenger door; feeling more nervous when it opened with ease.

  “Jason, I need you to go around to the other side. But be careful. Something doesn’t seem right.”

  Jason puffed out his cheeks and gripped his baton, leaking sweat from his brow as he warily moved to the front of the car to touch the bonnet.

  “No one’s driven this for a while,” he said, sliding the baton across it. “It’s stone cold.”

  “Then where is she?”

  “No, i-” Jason fell against the car, his face becoming pale.

  Wayne freaked out and reached for his baton. “What’s up with you?” he shakily asked, holding the baton tight. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Jason never replied. He just remained stuck to the spot.

  But he flinched when Wayne reached him, close to running away as a vision of the second sickest thing he’d seen today tore at his insides. But Wayne grabbed hold of him before looking at where he’d stared at; dropping his baton as a sudden surge of fear brought tears to his eyes.

  Below the men was a female body covered in blood, with a shard of glass embedded into her head. It was enough for Wayne to topple to the ground.

  “Hey! Are you okay?” Jason asked, reaching down to lift him.

  “What do you think?!” Wayne snapped back, clinging to the car. “I just felt a bit faint.” He stared at the carnage, blinking a few times before standing upright; his nerves becoming hard to handle as he said, “Who fuckin’ did this?”

  “There’s some strange shit goin’ on today,” Jason replied, holding his neck again. “First, we find a dead body that was presumably walking around, and now this…What’s goin’ to happen next in Clifton Falls?”

  TEN

  Frank drove towards the station, still feeling emotional as he reached the junction. He wiped a tear from his eye as another eerie figure staggered onto the road; rubbing his head after seeing the person walking towards his truck.

  What’s going on around here? Is there some kind of freaky ritual happening? Or are people just fucked up on drugs?

  He watched the person closely, slowing down to see it was a woman, but she wasn’t waving her hands in the air or even shouting out for help. She was just walking as if drunk.

  Frank felt scared as well as sympathy towards her after noticing a bloodline trail along the road, so parked up. He quivered, grabbed his wheel lock and stepped off the truck, closing in slowly as she moved awkwardly with her head down; groaning like she was struggling to speak. Frank felt sad as the woman lifted her head to reveal sticky blood wrapped around her throat like a red necklace, but he jumped back in shock as she growled at him.

  “Are you alright?” he softly said, squirming at how much she’d bled but was still able to walk. “What happened to you? Do you need help?”

  He heard more groans as the woman coughed up clotted blood before snapping teeth towards him. But he just thought she was too traumatised by her wounds to speak properly. He stared hard at her throat, spotting the blood was thick and dark. He felt sick to his stomach.

  How can she still be walking? She looks dead.

  He closed in even more until reaching six feet away, carefully eyeing the woman as the red liquid spilt out of her mouth. But her vision glued onto his, teasing him into lowering his guard as a sadistic grin etched on her face.

  “Do you need any assistance?” Frank asked, reaching out a hand to see her eyes follow it. “You’ve been hurt…I can drive you to the hospital.”

  He thought her weird behaviour had something to do with drugs and that’s why she didn’t feel the pain, but, after touching her cold hand, she snapped at him again, coming close to biting his arm. He stepped back, opening his eyes wide, feeling angry and shaken up from the surprise attack; his fingers tightening around the wheel lock. He tried working out if she was frightened because he was a stranger or she was just a mad lunatic, but either way, she was making him feel edgy.

  “Hey! What’s wrong with you?!” he blasted out. “I’m trying to help.”

  But his words just freaked the woman out.

  She forcefully grabbed onto his denim jacket, attempting to bite him again, but he swiftly pushed an arm a
gainst her larynx to stop her from reaching him. Frank wrestled with her but she was strong, getting the upper hand, so he lifted the wheel lock to scare her. But she kept on snapping at him, slowly getting closer-and-closer.

  Frank’s endurance faded fast as the woman’s strength increased. She spluttered and spat like a rampaging monster, scaring him to lower his weapon. But her teeth clamped onto his upper arm, ripping away cloth to get to his flesh. He screamed in agony, pushing her off to see her eat it before slamming a hand over the wound; feeling the blood pushing against it to make him queasy.

  “Who are you?!” he shouted, as his fast heartbeat pumped more leaking blood against his palm.

  He cringed as he removed his soaked hand to grip onto the wheel lock, prying it from the wounded one to lift again, but a sharp pain shot through him.

  “Right,” he said, pouring with sweat. “You’d better fuck off before I hit you with this…You’re a sick, twisted bitch…”

  But the zombified corpse of Paula just walked towards him.

  “…I mean it. If you don’t move away now I’ll smack your head so hard that it’ll end up next to your arse.”

  The zombie snarled, shuffling closer-and-closer to frighten Frank even more, as the pain from the wound increased, spreading agonizingly through his body. He watched the zombie try to speak, but all it did was spit out blood every time it opened its mouth. But he was hypnotised by it and couldn’t move. He closed his eyes, hearing the beast drag its feet as the droning increased. He knew he would be bitten again if he didn’t do something fast, so, as the zombie lunged forward, it was stopped in its tracks by the wheel lock crashing down on its head. Frank opened his eyes to see the zombie’s skull split open, reminding him of an egg being cracked into a frying pan as brain tissue and bone fragments slid down its face.