by Eddie Jakes
Mitchell had it down pretty good despite being only twelve years old and a little on the immature side. One of the first life lessons Reggie taught his son was respect for firearms and hunting as a tool for survival.
They were hunters but not trophy collectors. The very idea of murdering animals to hang on walls bothered Reggie. In his family, it had always been, "Eat what you kill, and thank God for providing the food."
Mitchell glanced at his digital watch and let out a big sigh.
"What's wrong, kiddo?"
"It's almost noon and we ain't seen any deer or wolves yet."
"Eh, they're just hiding. We'll keep looking for another hour and take the walk of shame to the chicken place. Sound all right?"
Mitchell laughed at his dad. Going out for fast food after a failed day of hunting was also something of a tradition. His grandpa had started calling it the walk of shame because you always felt like a failure coming up empty and ashamed to admit that you ate fast food. It was still delicious, though.
They roamed for another thirty minutes when his dad stopped walking, and his face went blank.
"What's wrong, Pop?"
Reggie pointed ahead of them at an old decorative gate that appeared out of place from the rest of the forest. It was cracked open, and it looked dark inside, despite leading into the opening of the woods.
"It's just an old gate. Probably a cemetery."
"Nah," said Reggie. "Your gramps and I walked these woods a million times. I know exactly where we are, and I've never seen this before."
Mitchell cocked a half smile. "That's silly. Let's go see—"
"Wait. Let me check it out first."
Reggie took the lead and headed toward the gate. Grabbing it with his left hand, he pulled it open all the way. It looked dark inside but seemed to change reflexively as he moved his eyes around. At times it looked like another clearing in the woods and others it was pitch black.
"Should we go in?" asked Mitchell.
Taking a deep breath, Reggie moved to step inside, but something stepped out instead and tackled him to the ground. Mitchell screamed in terror as a decaying corpse grabbed and snapped its jaw at his father. It was right out of one of those Living Dead movies that would always give him nightmares.
Reggie fought with the monster but was unable to stop it from landing a sizable chomp on his shoulder. It ripped through his skin and blood poured out profusely.
"Shoot him, Mitch!" shouted Reggie, in pain.
He froze. Mitchell had never shot anyone before. Pigeons and buck were one thing, but this was like an actual human. Or was it?
The monster took another bite out of Reggie's arm and he pleaded with Mitchell to shoot it.
Watching his father receive one nasty bite after another appeared to snap him out of his fear and he put the barrel of his .22 rifle to the creature's head. Reggie put all his might into pushing it up away from him so his son could make a clean shot. Once clear, Mitchell squeezed the trigger and closed his eyes when he heard the loud pop of gunpowder.
The thing's rotted brain went flying from its soft skull causing it to collapse lifelessly.
Reggie pulled himself up; tears from the pain covered his face along with pieces of skull.
"What was that, Dad?"
"I don't know. But it's dead. Let's get out of here."
"You need a doctor!"
"We need to get to the car. Now, Mitch!"
The two of them quickly shuffled away from the gate and back onto the path back to the parking lot. It was an hour’s walk, so Reggie tried to keep a rag on his wounds to slow the bleeding.
"You sure you're gonna be all right, Dad? Maybe we should call for help?"
Reggie nodded in agreement and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He tried to get a signal, but none was available.
"Let's walk farther."
They had barely gotten ten feet when Reggie began to notice a warm tingling sensation coming from his wound. Stopping, he instinctively grabbed at his shoulder. The tingling was starting to burn, and soon he felt it all over his body.
"What's wrong, Dad? Keep moving."
Reggie looked at his hands which had suddenly drained of all color. He wanted to answer, but he couldn't remember how. He lifted his sleeves and watched in fear while every vein in his body went from light blue to black.
"Dad! What's happening?"
He looked up at his son, Mitchell. His words didn't make any sense to him. It had all become a garbled mess of sound.
Suddenly, he wasn't scared anymore. A massive wave of calm encompassed him and was replaced by hunger. There was something sweet in the air that was making him feel famished. He had to satisfy this craving.
Something in front of him smelled so good. So good.
The last thing Reggie would hear before his humanity altogether left him was his son crying for help as he ate.
The Story will continue … but first—
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About the author—
Eddie Jakes was born in Connecticut and has lived there his whole life. During that time, he has been obsessed with all kinds of fiction. His love of fantasy and horror often lead to long weekend sessions of Dungeons & Dragons with the same group of friends that has continued to this day.
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