Clifton Falls: A Zombie Story [Part 1]

by Taylor, Lee Andrew

  Vincent snapped out of the shock and rushed out of the nearest door, slamming the front one behind him as he headed for his car. He opened it and sat inside before grabbing a mobile phone from the glove compartment, shaking at speed as he glared at his house to phone the police.

  “I need help! My wife’s been murdered,” he frighteningly rushed from his mouth before the person on the other end could introduce themself. “Please come now.”

  “Can you give me your name and address? I’ll send someone to you right away,” Susan asked, shaking her head.

  She was having a shift she wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

  Vincent’s voice trembled, but Susan recognised who he was before he told her his name. She spoke in a soothing tone, hoping it would settle him down as it did with Frank, but she knew she’d have to tread carefully to prevent him from losing it completely.

  “Okay, Mr Smythe, there’ll be someone with you very shortly.”

  Vincent poured with sweat as he placed his feet on the newly paved driveway, ending the call to choke as his head spun. He was scared.

  ***

  It took just a few minutes before a police car arrived on the scene, its siren attracting neighbours to emerge from their homes.

  Don’t they have anything better to do with their time? Wayne wondered as he exited the car.

  He placed on his police issue cap, closing in on Vincent to notice him shake rapidly.

  “What seems to be the problem?” Wayne asked, kicking himself because he already knew the answer. “You said your wife had been murdered. Is this true?”

  But he cringed after hearing the neighbours talk amongst themselves, knowing they’d heard at least part of what he said.

  One of them slowly moved closer, but the passenger door of the police car opened, spooking the person to return to the others.

  Nash Hopkins was a nineteen-year-old, fresh-faced newbie to the force. He had only graduated a week ago, but here he was, starting his first shift with the Clifton Falls Police Department. He exited the car as a mix of nerves and excitement raced inside him, smiling at the nosey crowd standing nearby.

  “How are we all today?” he calmly asked, taking everyone by surprise. “This is my first shift. I’m so excited.”

  “Hey!” Wayne hollered. “Get your mind on the job and keep those people back.”

  “No worries,” Nash happily replied, shutting the car door.

  Vincent rose from the seat but his legs buckled to leave him grabbing onto his car.

  “Listen to me very carefully,” he said, reaching out to grip Wayne’s shoulder. “My wife’s dead inside the house. Have you got that?”

  “I got it.”

  Wayne hugged Vincent as Nash arrived, but he didn’t know what to make of it all. He imagined it to be a twisted game concocted by Wayne to scare him on his first day, waiting on Vincent to suddenly burst out laughing, but he was crying into Wayne’s shoulder to leave Nash freaked out. All he did was stare. He didn’t know what else to do.

  Vincent pulled away, wiping his face as he took another glance at the house.

  “I never told this to the woman on the phone but my dead mother isn’t dead anymore…She’s inside and she killed my Mary.”

  His words left Nash in a trance as a flashback of him playing on a zombie game raced through his mind.

  “It’s just fiction, right?” he nervously asked. “Dead people don’t wake up again in the real world.”

  But Vincent scowled at him, making him feel uneasy.

  “Go inside and take a look!” he snapped.

  Wayne breathed deeply and shook his head. He knew Vincent was scared of something that was inside his house, something that could be similar to the person Frank hit with his truck, so needed Nash to focus.

  “Okay,” he softly said. “We need to get you out of the limelight before the neighbours start yapping again.” He looked at Vincent, passing on a smile before adding, “Can you show us where it is?”

  But Vincent gulped.

  He looked to the ground in an attempt to avoid eye contact, hoping Wayne would let him stay where he was, but, deep down he knew he had to go back inside to clarify that the figure on the floor was indeed his dead mother and not an illusion.

  “I don’t want to but I know I need to do this,” he said, nervously walking towards the front door.

  Wayne turned to usher the neighbours away as Vincent opened it, but he wasn’t going to be the first to enter. He stood aside, letting Nash walk by him, knowing he was pumped up with adrenaline to not give a shit about who? or what? was inside.

  “My wife’s body is in the living room,” Vincent shakily said as Wayne entered the hallway. “And the killer was in there as well.”

  “Okay…Don’t enter that room unless I say so,” Wayne said, watching Vincent slowly enter the house to shut the door. “Just stay calm. We’ve got this.”

  Vincent nodded as he leaned against the door, releasing more sweat as he pointed at the living room entrance. He watched the others reach for their batons, cringing from the thought of them acting like it was just an everyday domestic; his eyes now glued to where they were standing as they prepared to enter the room.

  “Nash, are you ready for this?” Wayne said, receiving a smile back. “It could get dangerous…”

  But all Nash wanted to do was to get stuck in.

  “…Use your taser if you need to.”

  Wayne touched a firearm strapped to his work belt, pleased to have it with him as he moved closer to the door. He knew it was a huge step for Mike to order his trained officers to carry one but, after what Wayne had seen recently going on in town he wasn’t taking any chances.

  Wayne nodded to Nash as Vincent came close to tears.

  He almost sunk to the floor as they opened the door. He quickly looked away as it closed to listen out for any noises; feeling angry that his walking stick wasn’t resting against a nearby wall to use if the thing he saw attacked.

  ***

  Wayne and Nash cautiously moved around the living room.

  They saw the bloodstains on the wall as they neared the sofa; both nervous as they reached it, but there was no sighting of Vincent’s so-called dead mother. They gulped at the sight of Mary’s body, almost vomiting to see her brain was missing, as a fetid aroma lingered beneath their nostrils to make them drowsy.

  “What the F-,” Wayne spat out, choking into his hand. “His wife stinks.”

  “I don’t think it’s coming from her,” Nash replied, leaning down to smell the corpse. “I think something else is here.”

  ***

  Vincent knew he should stay by the front door but the silence coming from the living room caused his patience to fade fast. He moved towards the wall that split the two rooms and placed an ear against it, pulling faces as he listened out for anything before getting annoyed at how silent the officers still were.

  He was close to barging into the room but the same foul stench wafted up his nose to stall him. He shivered after feeling stale breath on his neck, close to crying after the smell reminded him of his mother. He knew she was standing behind him but he couldn’t speak or move. He hoped her reincarnated corpse would leave him alone but a sharp pain penetrated his left leg, causing him to fall to his knees. He saw her hideous body holding the blood-dripping Stanley knife, her dangling eye swinging to hypnotise him, stopping him from trying to escape. But, as he finally snapped out of it, the knife plunged to pop his orbs.

  Vincent yelled out in pain as the zombie slobbered; its decayed gums showing as it licked the blade. But, as it was about to strike again, the officers rushed out of the kitchen entrance to grab its attention. They were gobsmacked to see it whine like a baby; the noise putting them off from making the first move.

  “Help me!” Vincent hollered, as he struggled to breathe while spitting out the dark juice running down his cheeks and into his mouth. “It’s blinded me.”

  Wayne noticed blood leaking out of Vincent’s leg to form a pud
dle on the floor, but he wasn’t given time to help because the zombie sliced the blade across Vincent’s throat. He fell on his face as blood splashed over Nash, leaving him shaken up.

  “Move away from him!” Wayne shouted; not sure if the knife waving creature would obey. “Do it NOW!...”

  But the zombie just stared at him whilst drooling over Vincent’s head.

  “…Release your taser,” Wayne whispered, noticing Nash wasn’t as cocky now. “You need to put it down…”

  Nash breathed in deeply before taking it from his belt, sweating as he aimed it at the zombie. But it moved quickly towards him, swinging the blade close to his face to scare him into almost dropping the taser. Wayne quickly pushed the creature against a wall but backed away once it swung the blade again.

  “…Let’s move!” he shouted, pushing Nash towards the centre of the hallway. “What is that thing?”

  “I have no idea.”

  The zombie growled, frightening them, causing them to stumble back and stand in the blood. It soaked into the soles of their boots, making them slip to almost topple over Vincent’s body.

  “We will put you down. Do you understand me?” Wayne’s stomach churned at the sight of the one-armed, one-eyed freak. “Drop the knife…”

  But the zombie just glared at him.

  “…Put it down,” Wayne said, nudging Nash. “And do it now…”

  Nash quickly fired the gun to leave the zombie doing a crazy dance, but it wasn’t falling to the ground. It was just smiling at him.

  “…Is that on full power?” Wayne asked anxiously.

  “I don’t know. I’ve not used these new models before.”

  Wayne checked the gun and noticed it wasn’t.

  “Press that button,” he nervously said, pointing at it as the zombie overcame the blast. “It will increase the voltage.”

  So Nash did.

  He laughed as smoke escaped out of the beast. Its body shook faster and suddenly lifted, flying into the kitchen to crash hard against a cupboard before dropping to the floor.

  “What the fuck!” Nash yelled, turning the taser off. “That was insane.”

  “It sure was,” Wayne replied, scrunching his face as he watched the creature. “But let’s make sure it’s dead before we jump for joy.”

  “You mean dead again…”

  Wayne smiled.

  He held up a hand before slowly entering the kitchen, nearing the corpse as Nash replaced his taser and followed.

  “…I’m gonna check to see if the fucker’s fully dead this time.” Nash cautiously approached the deformed figure and kicked it, grinning at how lifeless it looked. “It’s not breathing,” he happily said, spreading his legs over the corpse before bending over to listen. “It’s a-gonna for sure this time.”

  But, as he turned to look at Wayne again, the zombie’s eye reopened to glare at him. It gripped his testicles and squeezed hard, crunching them to the sound of him yelping like a kicked dog; its gums slapping together to freak him out as it hid behind him.

  “Shoot it, Wayne, I’m begging you. Please shoot it,” he pleaded, pulling and pulling to release the grip.

  But it remained tight.

  Wayne released his gun and aimed it, but the zombie made it difficult for him to shoot. It was like it knew what the weapon was used for so stayed hidden behind the shivering Nash, crunching harder on his manhood each time he tried to escape. Wayne cringed when Nash yelped again. He saw Nash desperately try to pull away to leave an angle for him to shoot the beast, but it was using Nash’s body as a human shield.

  “Use your spray!” Wayne shouted. “Spray the fucker in the face.”

  Nash tried reaching for the CS spray on his belt, shuddering and in tears after the zombie’s face almost touched his. He could smell its foul breath stinging his skin.

  ‘Don’t kill me,’ he whispered, hoping to find some energy to escape.

  But even though the tiny skeletal figure looked easy to push off, Nash still couldn’t do it.

  “Just move to one side so I can shoot it,” Wayne said, shakily moving his gun. “I still can’t see it.”

  Nash shook vigorously.

  The zombie whined and ripped off his testicles, leaving blood gushing out to stain his trousers as his face turned pale. Wayne could only watch as Nash was thrown into the air to land on his back; his shocked eyes slowly hiding behind lids as his final breath arrived. Wayne almost collapsed after staring at the pool of life fluid surrounding Nash, knowing he would never forget it.

  He leaned against the doorframe, not noticing the zombie rise off the ground until its dull moans were heard; turning to see it stagger towards him, hungry for his flesh. He wiped his head to feel sweat cling to him, shaking uncontrollably as he raised the gun, but the creature from the grave wasn’t scared of it anymore. It picked up speed and snarled but Wayne fired his gun to send it crashing back to the floor; a bullet tearing a leg clean off. It looked stunned at not being able to rise again, but it kept on trying, snarling and snapping gums until Wayne fired a bullet into its head. He saw it collapse, slumping against the kitchen units; his vision zoning on it for the next minute while he took everything in.

  He cried into his hands and walked back into the hallway, desperately trying to block the images of Nash’s final moments as he opened the front door.

  THIRTEEN

  Hazel Knutts was a no-nonsense, straight-talking woman who was the head of the nursing department at Clifton Falls hospital. Respected by the staff for her experience and loyalty she was like a textbook when it came to patching up the injured, but right now she was struggling to work out what was wrong with her latest patient.

  Frank was extremely weak and his legs were unable to take his weight as Hazel watched him being helped into a chair. She cringed at the amount of sweat dripping off his brow, stunned at how much pain he was in. She had many theories floating inside her brain of what may be the problem but knew she needed to remove the makeshift wrapping that Mike had put on before having a clearer picture. She smiled at Frank while unwrapping the blood-soaked bandage, but he didn’t flinch. He just stared into nothingness. Hazel choked from the smell of the wound as the bandage fell to the floor, staring deeply at it as she shook her head.

  “This doesn’t look very pleasant,” she said, smiling at Frank again. “It looks like you’ve been bitten...”

  But Frank ignored her.

  She placed a finger and thumb over the bite mark, feeling the area of discomfort; squeezing them together until a gooey liquid seeped out. It surprised her because she didn’t recognise it. But, like the professional she was, she remained calm and reached for a test tube from a medical trolley.

  “…This bite isn’t from an animal,” she continued, swabbing the liquid with a cotton bud. “I’m pretty certain it was caused by another human being but I’ve never seen anyone bite so deep into someone before.” She shook her head as if disagreeing with her words, but the proof was right there. “This can’t be right. It’s not normal.”

  “It was a human,” Frank raspily said, looking up to see her baffled expression. “A crazy person.”

  Hazel dropped the bud inside the tube and placed it onto the trolley, happy that Frank was at least focused as she moved away. But her smile faded to be replaced by sadness.

  “Hold on,” she softly said, pulling back the curtain surrounding the cubicle. “I’ll be right back.”

  She left and walked over to where Mike was seated, seeing him sip coffee from a coffee-machine cup before pulling a horrid face.

  “Don’t drink that,” she said, closing in. “I think it’s gone off.”

  Mike grunted as he threw the drink down a nearby sink.

  “Thanks for that,” he said, looking over Hazel’s shoulder. “How’s he doing?”

  “Not good, I’m afraid…Someone bit him…”

  Hazel sat next to Mike to fiddle with her name badge. She often did it when something worried her.

  “…And they bit him
very deeply…The wound has become infected.”

  “Is that the reason behind his constant feverish appearance and lack of energy?”

  “It surely has something to do with it.” Hazel glanced at the floor, pressing the badge hard. “I found some form of puss inside the wound but I won’t know more about it until I’ve had it analysed.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Hazel rose to her feet. She slowly stared into Mike’s eyes, leaving him feeling a cold chill as she backed away.

  “…What?” he said, exiting his seat to panic. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “I can’t rule out rabies. Not yet anyway.”

  “Damn! …He mentioned he was bitten by someone but he was in such a state. I couldn’t tell if he was lying.”

  “He wasn’t lying…Whoever bit him was either completely insane or had possibly contracted the rabies virus from another source…Frank will have to remain here for further tests.”

  “And what if he’s got it?”

  “Let’s hope he hasn’t…If he has then he’ll have to be isolated.” Hazel walked back towards the cubicle. “Just be ready. You may have your hands full trying to sort this problem out.”

  She pulled back the curtain again but was left shocked after seeing Frank’s body become soaked. He was convulsing rapidly like he was having some type of a fit; his legs kicking out at the trolley to almost topple it over. But Hazel was quick to move it to one side before the sample dropped to the floor. She reached out to hold him, wincing at not being able to help.

  “Gary, Julie!” she yelled. “I need your help!...”

  A tall, thin, experienced male nurse and a petite, dark-haired, teenage female trainee raced from the next cubicle to see Hazel struggling to keep Frank still.