by J.R. Bowles
Chapter 7
“Crack! Rumble, rumble, rumble,” The room shook. Everyone stood motionless as the sound of wood breaking burned into their ears.
“What was that?” Elva was the first one to manage to speak her voice weak from fright.
Willie ran into the room from the dining room door. He seemed disheveled and startled. Sarah followed shortly afterwards smoothing her hair down with her hands. Her breathing was heavy and so was Willie’s.
“That sound like it was directly outside.” Elva pointed toward the external wall. “It must have been lightning.”
“I’ll go check.” Willie said, pulling Elva’s flashlight out of his back pocket.
“Er, Willie?” Elva said winking at her sister.
“Yeah?”
“XYZ,” She whispered.
“Huh? What? What do you mean?”
“XYZ,” She said a little louder.
“I don’t understand.” He shrugged.
“Examine your zipper, darling.” Karalina explained with a laugh.
He looked down and blushed. Then turned away from everyone and zipped.
Sarah’s face turned crimson as Elva ran over and freed the back of Sarah’s dress from partially being caught in her panties.
Patrick and Tamika strolled calmly into the room and looked around. Patrick set the lamp down and Tamika set several books on a coffee table.
“Are you two okay?” Elva inquired.
“Oh yes. It was lightning. We saw it hit outside the library.” Patrick said.
“Scared the pants off me,” Tamika euphemized.
“I’m sure it did.” Agnes said distastefully.
“Mind your own business.” Tamika threatened.
“Patrick dear, XYZ.” Elva said smiling a twinkle in her eyes.
Patrick immediately glanced down at his zipper and yanked it up. “Don’t want the junk to get out.”
“I just don’t understand that.” Elva said. “That goes to prove everything has been devaluated.”
“What do you mean?” Patrick asked.
“Well when I was a young girl a man’s privates were called the family jewels and that usually just meant the scrotum. Now-a-days everything down there is junk. See what I mean? From jewels to junk, at least it’s still a ‘J’ word.” Elva laughed.
Everyone laughed.
After the laughter quieted Patrick said, “Lightning hit the tree outside the library and split a limb off onto the porch. There’s no fire. I checked but there is some broken wood damage.”
“Oh no,” Sarah cried out.
“Don’t worry Sister we have insurance.” Elva reassured her.
“You’re right.” She agreed.
Karalina looked over at the books Tamika had set on the table and picked up one. “The Author is Dead, by Lynn Bowles. Now that sounds good.
“Oh it is,” Sarah said. “And she was so sweet she and her husband stayed here. They left those books. She told me she wrote that book after she broke her leg and was laid up from a skiing accident.”
“I’ve got dibs on The Seventh Chakra.” Tamika called out fast.
“That’s cool. I’ve read it. It’s good… it’s like Robert Heinlein on steroids. Who’s it by? Slips my mind.” Patrick probed.”
Holding the book up, she said, “J.R. Bowles.”
“Bowels?”
“No Bowles, like toilet bowls.”
“Oh, duh, makes sense. You just said the wife’s name.” Patrick scolded himself.
“The other book is by their daughter.” Sarah said.
“What’s the name of that one?” Patrick asked.
“It’s Birth of the Fire Child.” Tamika answered. “I met her at a sci-fi conference. I bought the book there. It’s so good. She’s supposed to have another one released soon. You’ll love it.”
“What was she like?” He asked as he read her name aloud, “Ginny Atkinson.”
“I thought she was going to be a bitch but she turned out to be quite fascinating. She talked about her new book coming out this summer and other stuff for a long time. Her new one is a continuation of the Lumenessa Saga. I’ve already pre-ordered it. I can hardly wait.” Tamika exuberated.
“Before anyone starts to read,” Willie interrupted. “I’m going to go look for Nicholas again. I could use all the help I can get.”
“Sure. You’re right. We need to find the boy.” Patrick said, “Dead or not.”
“He’s not dead.” Sarah butted in and Elva nodded in agreement.
“And the Deputy’s body,” Willie made a point to remind them all. “Alright then let’s divide up again. Who’s willing to look?”
The sisters were the first to agree, Patrick and Tamika said they would also. Everyone turned to look at the Reverend and Karalina for an answer.
“Well darling. Someone should stay here in case he comes back.” Karalina said as she picked up the book The Author is Dead and began to read ignoring their stare.
They looked at Randy waiting for an answer. “Sure, I’ll go look.”
Agnes huffed and then spoke up. “Well if Randy goes, I’ll go.”
“Okay, I’ll go alone. The rest of you pair up and grab a lamp. That should leave one lamp to leave here for Karalina. I’ve still got the flashlight,” Willie said reaching behind him for the light.
Karalina watched them leave each one in different directions. She walked over picked up the lamp and brought it back to the table where she was sitting. She picked up the book and started to read. The force of the tropical storm seemed to be increasing as the rumble of thunder became louder.
Nervously she laid the book back down on the table and walked across the room. The one light from the lamp thickened the darkened shadows in the room. Her mind slowly wandered to the undead. She knew she was being ridiculous but her mind refused to be rational.
She pulled the curtain open to stare out at the dark night being punctuated by blazes of lightning often tinted blue and shades of eerie green. Green lightning was very disturbing. She had heard of it but had never seen it. As she stood there fascinated at nature’s relentless fury her nose caught a whiff of a faint pungent putrid odor. She cocked her head slightly and slowly turned around. At the doorway to the dining room was a silhouette. A brilliant flash illuminated the room and exposed to her mind, the figure of a zombie. She stared, frozen for a moment, looking at a man dressed in loosely clad, ill-fitting unbuttoned clothing. He was wet with clods of grave-like mud clinging to his hair and pale face.
The piercing scream that escaped her lips could be compared to the high shrill of a teenager riding the downward thrust on the first hill of a roller coaster; or the fallen heroine in a 50’s B movie vying for stardom.
The lightning flashed again the figure was gone but she didn’t notice. Her mind was still reeling from the shock. She kept screaming loudly until her air gave out and then inhaling deeply returning to the hysterical shrieks.
After several minutes the others returned. Elva and Sarah were the first, followed by Willie, and Patrick and Tamika. Only Randy and Agnes were missing.
“What the bloody hell is wrong with you?” Elva screamed at Karalina, then slapped her hard and turned to Sarah saying, “I always wanted to do that.”
After two vigorous slaps Karalina slowed to a loud sob.
“Someone, bring her a shot of brandy.” Elva ordered.
“Randy drank all of your brandy, how about scotch?” Patrick asked.
“As long as it is hard and burns on the way down.” Elva directed.
Patrick brought the drink and held it out to Karalina, who stared at the shot glass blankly.
“Let me have it.” Elva grabbed the glass, stuck it up to Karalina’s lips, grabbed the back of her head and tilted the glass.
Karalina’s eyes widened as the drink was forced into her and responded with fits of coughing and spitting.
“H
ere’s some tissues dear.” Sarah pulled several clumps from a box and handed them out.
Karalina took them wiped her eyes and blew her nose with a slight honking sound.
“Easy now Karalina,” Willie spoke gently, the timber of his voice calming. “Now inhale slowly then out… easy now, that’s it. Now relax and tell us what’s wrong.”
“I saw a zombie!” She pointed at the door to the dining room. “I swear to you. I’m not lying.”
“Nobody said you were.” Willie said calmly. “I want you to tell us exactly what you saw. Describe it in the most detail you can.”
She paused as if she were organizing her thoughts. “I opened the curtains and the lightning was flashing ― like it is now ― I smelled a stench ― I turned around and there it was.” Her hand started to shake as she pointed at the spot.
“Okay.” Willie said, “Tell us what it looked like. It couldn’t have been the boy… Nicholas, could it?”
“No,” she said emphatically. “It was a man… a dead man. He was thin… pale, and dirty. His clothes were loose and baggy. He looked like his eyeballs were sunken in his head.”
“How tall?”
“About midway to that picture beside the door… I screamed and the lightning kept flashing then he was just gone. I don’t know where ― I don’t know how.”
“Sarah did you or Elva, see anyone? You came from that direction didn’t you?” Willie said.
As they both shook their heads no, Willie walked over to the doorway and scanned the area with his flashlight.
“The floor is wet with some muddy tracks. Did anyone else go out into the rain?” He knew the answer and didn’t look up.
“I’m going to follow the tracks. When Randy and Agnes return have them stay here.”
Willie followed the moisture trail through the dining room, through the kitchen… along the series of closed glass porches to the front of the house and the internal mud room. He unbuckled his holster and stepped out onto the front porch. There stood Agnes and Randy.
“Willie! Thank god you’re here.” Agnes hurried over to him. “There’s a light in my house.”
Willie stood there looking across the street. The rain continued hard, distant lightning lit the ground and sky. In between the flashes a light could be seen from a downstairs window.
“Agnes, did you lock the door?” Willie asked.
“I believe I did but I can’t remember. Of course that doesn’t mean Tamika did… she could have left it unlocked. I just can’t remember.”
Willie stood staring at the rain and finally said, “I guess I’m going to have to go check it out.”
“Could it be Nicholas?” Randy asked.
“Maybe,” Willie answered. “No need to speculate.”
“What’s going on out here?” Elva said from the doorway. Sarah, Patrick, Tamika and Karalina followed her out.
“I thought I told you to stay in the parlor.” Willie grouched.
“Willie, does anybody ever listen to you?” Elva snapped back. “So what’s going on out here? We started talking and followed you.”
Willie resigned the argument and said, “Somebody’s in Agnes’ house. There’s a light over there. Tamika, if I recall you came here after Agnes. Did you lock the door?”
“Yes,” she answered, “I always lock the door.”
“I’m going to go over there.” Willie said as he headed back inside.
“Where did he go?” Agnes asked. “I thought he was going….”
“Shut up Aggie. He went to get some rain gear on and I’m going with him.” Elva returned into the mudroom with Sarah following.”
“You can’t go out in this rain?” Sarah nagged following close behind. When she saw Elva putting the rain gear on she knew it was futile to argue so she helped her.
“What are you doing?” Willie asked.
“I’m going with you.” Elva answered.
“No you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. That might be Nicholas over there and I’m going to find out. He might be sick or god knows what.”
“Alright but you stay behind me and stay close.”
“Here, take this lamp.” Sarah offered the lamp out.
“I don’t need it. Willie’s got a flashlight and I’ll stay close to him.”
Out on the front porch they stopped and pulled their hoods up, snugged them down with the ties and checked the metal snaps. The wind had shifted directions and the rain was coming sideways from the west. The house blocked some of the rain and wind as they made their way down the steps onto the sidewalk.
The lightning was at a distance but frequent, as they crossed the road, opened the gate and went up the steps to Agnes’ porch. At the top of the steps Willie stopped, untied his hood and then flipped off the flashlight.
“We need to be quiet as we can. Let’s peek in the window and see if we can find out what we are dealing with.”
They moved quietly except for the faint sound of their rain gear rubbing together noisily.
“The wind and rain is so loud I doubt anybody will hear us.” Willie whispered. “Look there,” he pointed, “There is Nicholas, lying body on the couch. I don’t know if he’s sleeping or if we were right before and he’s dead.”
“He’s alive, I know it,” Elva whispered back, “but look, there’s a shadow on the wall — there! Somebody is standing between the light casting a huge shadow. See it’s moving. Nicholas had a lamp with him when he went to the door but when we found him in the attic it wasn’t there.”
“Now I’m going to go in and I want you to stay here. Elva please, I need you to not fight me on this. It is for your safety and mine. Can I depend on you to cooperate with me? Please.”
“Okay Willie but I’m going to keep an eye on you through the window.”
Willie nodded silently and handed Elva the flashlight. “Here in case you need it. If something goes wrong I want you to get the hell back across the road. You understand? I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Elva paused as he stood there bent over nose to nose with her. “Okay, but be careful.”
Willie walked over to the storm door squeezing the handle slowly and pulled it gently open. He turned the knob on the door and pushed. It made a slight sliding sound and then went quiet. He had been in Agnes’ house before and knew his way to the short hall to the door to the sitting room. He traversed the hall quickly and pulling his gun out he stepped into the room.
There standing ten feet from the Nicholas’ body was the zombie. Karalina’s description had been almost exact. The bony man was soaking wet, thinning hair plastered to his head with dirt and mud. The clothes he wore were three sizes too large and his face was gaunt ― his skin pale.
“Hands up!” Willie ordered, his gun aimed directly at the unknown man.
The gaunt figure stood staring blankly, his arms hanging limply by his side. Thin lips parted slowly and an awkward noise issued forth.
“Stick your damn hands up now!” Willie yelled.
Slowly the man raised his left arm to shoulder level, displaying the palm of his hand. He moved his shoulder back and forth with his body his right arm swung lifelessly around. From his slightly parted lips he groaned loudly.
Willie was getting nervously scared and unsettled. He glanced over at Nicholas on the couch. “Can you talk?”
Then figure shook his head from left to right indicating no.
“Is the boy okay?”
The man shrugged his shoulder indicating he had no idea.
“Are you ill?”
The man nodded.
“Hurt?”
Again he nodded.
“The storm has closed the bridge. No ambulance can get here. How bad are you?” Willie kept his gun pointed at the man.
Again he shrugged.
“Can I look at the boy?
The man nodded.
“Move over there for me. I want to be
able to keep an eye on you.” Willie used the gun to point to the place he wanted the man.
As soon as the man moved Willie walked over and placed his fingers on the boy’s neck feeling for a pulse. He kept his eyes on the man as he drew closer.
“I don’t feel a pulse but his body is still warm. It doesn’t make sense. Wait a minute ― I think I felt one.”
“Bang!” The window glass shattered inward into the room and the zombie fell to the ground.
“What the hell!” Willie shouted and pointed his gun towards the window.
“Yoo-hoo! Willie, are you okay? I think I got him. I killed the zombie.”
“Where did you get a gun? Never mind… I know. It’s VD’s gun. Get in here!” He shouted at Elva as he walked around the couch and kneeled down beside the man. As soon as Elva came in the door he shouted, “Bring me that flashlight and give me that gun.”
Elva walked over, flashlight in her left handgun in her right. “Is the zombie dead? Can a zombie die twice?”
“Give me that gun, now!” He ordered as he stood up, reached over and took the gun. He tucked it into the back of his pants and returned his gun back into his holster. “Hand me the flashlight.”
Elva reluctantly handed him the flashlight. She leaned over as Willie took the flashlight and examined the man’s body.
“Did I get him?” Elva asked again. “I don’t see any blood. Do zombies bleed?”
“He’s not a zombie. He’s just a man that’s been hurt. I’m going to roll him over and examine him. I don’t know if you want to look.” He handed the flashlight back to Elva and rolled the body over with a loud thump.
Elva gasped loudly. “My goodness it’s Mr. Smythe.”
“Who?” Willie asked.
“Mr. Smythe. He left a few days ago. He was a boarder.” Elva closed her left eye for a moment and added, “He left his suitcases too. He was paid up so we packed up his stuff. Is he the zombie?”
“He’s not a zombie. He’s just a man that’s been hurt. He’s breathing. I don’t think you killed him.”
At that moment Mr. Smythe opened his eyes. Fear filled his eyes and he started to squirm.
“It’s okay. Are you Mr. Smythe?”
The man nodded.
“Elva do you know his first name?”
“Jonathan, I believe.”
“Is your name Jonathan?”
Again the man nodded.
“Are you having trouble remembering? You look like you’ve been in an accident.”
The man just stared and shrugged a little.
“Do you remember Mrs. McGillocotty?”
He nodded.
“She’s the one that took a shot at you,” when he saw more fear in the man’s eyes he hurriedly added, “It was an accident. She was worried for her nephew and you’re pretty rough looking right now.”
The fear subsided some.
Willie stood up. “I didn’t see any gunshot wounds. I think with whatever trauma you have been through you might have fainted. We need to get you back across the street and get some warm drink and food into you. Can you get up if I help you?”
Mr. Smythe nodded and with Willie’s help he slowly made it back to his feet.
“Elva do you have any idea if Agnes has an umbrella here?” Willie asked.
“No, not really ― how about a couple blankets. I’ll get them.” Elva left the room.
“Mr. Smythe, can you walk back across the street?”
He nodded.
Shortly Elva returned with two blankets. Willie took one blanket draping it over Mr. Smythe and the other one he wrapped around Nicholas.
“Elva I’m going to have to do a fireman carry on Nicholas. Do you know what that is?”
“How many times today am I going to have to say it? I’m forgetful not stupid.”
Elva walked over and picked up the oil lamp in one hand the flashlight in the other. “I do believe this is mine.”
Willie grunted as he threw the adolescent boy over his shoulders. Slowly they made their way out of the house through the rain and wind, crossing the road.