Floodwater Zombies

by Sean Thomas Fisher

  The silence returned as she swept a pink and silver running shoe back and forth across the top layer of sand. His mind rolled through a list of things to say to ease her mind, all of which either felt stupid or creepy so he checked on Boomer, who was still busy patrolling the water.

  “Do you have your phone? I’ll give you my number.”

  He turned back to her, trying not to look too surprised and failing. He yanked his cell from his shorts a little too quickly and nearly dropped it. “Yeah, I’ve got it,” he said coolly, flipping to his contacts and handing her the phone. Tonya’s fingers lightly brushed against his as she took it. Stu tried to contain himself as she entered her number into his phone.

  “I like your display,” she said, handing the cell back to him.

  He glanced at the picture of Boomer wearing a Darth Vader mask and black cape and turned as red as Tonya’s tank top. He was about to say something witty when a strained yelp pierced the lakeside, echoing off the nearby rolling hills. Their heads snapped around to see a bearded man in a suit and tie carry Boomer into the lake under one arm. The black lab struggled for freedom as the man high stepped into greater depths. Boomer got out one last cry before the water rushed over his snout.

  Stu’s cell phone slipped through his fingers and dropped to the soft sand below as ripples spread across the water where the man had just disappeared with his dog. “What the hell,” he mumbled, turning a stumble into a flat out sprint. “Boomer!” he cried, racing across the brown sand and splashing into the water. He stopped knee-deep, gasping for air and sweeping his eyes back and forth across the murky lake. “Boomer!”

  “What was that?” Tanya screamed from the shoreline, the wind tugging at her hair as she clutched Chloe tightly to her chest.

  Stu waded in deeper, unable to respond just as much as he was unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed with his own two eyes.

  “It was a man!”

  He stopped and slowly turned around, horror mixing with the water dripping from his face. “H-how can that be?” he sputtered, even though he had seen the same thing she had.

  She shook her head, terror blanketing her face as her teeth began to chatter. “It can’t.”

  He stared at her through wide eyes, his chest pounding. “Call the police!” he yelled, pointing to his phone in the sand. She didn’t follow his finger. Instead, her eyes widened, looking past him with the color draining from her face. Stu followed her horrified gaze to the lake where three men were slowly emerging from the water.

  Tanya screamed, making Chloe wiggle from her arms and drop to the sand. The small Pomeranian hit the ground running, charging the things coming out of the water and barking like she meant business. Stu stumbled backwards, unable to tear his wide eyes from the three elderly men calmly coming closer. Two of the senior’s suits and ties were tattered with loose strips of fabric hanging here and there, their faces in similar disrepair. The other man’s garments looked newer, his face still a face. They trudged through the shallow water with a patient deliberation, their hollow eyes firmly fixed on Stu.

  “Chloe!” Tanya screamed, running to scoop up the loose dog.

  An old white lady in a black dress with lacey edges suddenly exploded from the water and snatched Chloe before the dog knew what hit her. Chloe sunk her teeth into the lady’s bony arm but she took no notice. Her arm looked like it had seen worse, with its missing patches of gray skin revealing darkened muscle tissue beneath. She clutched the dog like a football and dove into the water, cutting the Pomeranian off in mid-yip. Tanya froze as Chloe vanished. She held her breath before screaming again, sending another echo ricocheting off the hillsides.

  Stu gaped at the three rotting corpses reaching for him. His retreating heel collided with a partially buried rock in the lakebed, sending him toppling backwards. He hit the water with a loud slap. The old men sneered, exposing broken teeth and blackened gums. Stu scrambled backwards like a crab, kicking as they grabbed his feet. Their clammy, yet firm grips made him shriek.

  The corpses wasted no time pulling him into deeper water. Stu twisted onto his stomach and clawed uselessly at the packed sand, carving long gorges into the lake. Splashing water mixed with frantic gulps of air around him. “H-help!” he choked, looking back to Tonya who stood with her hands over her pale face. “Run!” he yelled, taking a deep breath just before his head went under.

  He held the breath, knowing it wouldn’t last long at the rate his heart was pounding. His eyes opened to see a blurry image of the things swimming into water that grew darker and colder. Stu grabbed at one of the man’s legs and tore away a piece of silky fabric as they pulled him deeper and deeper. He dropped the material and thrashed wildly as the water’s sunlit surface faded away. Bubbles began streaming from his nose and mouth.

  He squirmed against their tight holds and instinctively inhaled a deep breath of lake water. His body convulsed as the dark liquid filled his lungs. A fuzzy silhouette of Boomer’s black tail appeared just above him, hanging limply in the thick water. Stu reached for it and something bit down into his left leg. His body twisted as the water turned red around him. Then something bit into his backside. He jerked, arching his back while teeth sunk into his arm and tore away a chunk of his bicep. Gradually, Stu stopped resisting as Boomer’s tail and the bright sunlight faded into the darkness.

  Tonya’s eyes were bulging circles. They darted erratically back and forth across the calming water. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she murmured, paralyzed by the impossible. “Stu?” she whimpered, blinking tears down her cheeks.

  She scanned the deserted shoreline in both directions. Then she heard something. Her hazel eyes snapped back to the water, expecting to see one of those…things standing there in soggy formal wear.

  “Hey! We need help!” she screamed, waving to a ski boat zipping across the other side of the lake. “Help!” She jumped up and down, frantically waving both arms through the air like she had just spent the last four months on a deserted island. A young girl bounced wildly across the water’s surface on a neon green tube tied to the boat. The girl shrieked with wild delight as the driver carved a snaking S-line through the water, swinging the girl from one side of the boat’s wake to the other, and quickly disappearing around a pine tree laden bend. “Dammit,” Tonya whispered, clear snot running into her mouth as reality set in.

  The corner of her eye caught something glimmering in the sand. She turned and took hurried steps towards Stu’s cell phone and screamed when a man with long hair burst from the shallow water. Bony knees poked through holes in his black slacks as he charged with the determination of a blitzing linebacker. He pulled free of the water’s drag, wet hair swinging wildly across his decayed face, and thundered across the sand. Tonya ran to her left. He moved to block and she stopped, gaping at the jagged holes in his face and the moss covering his broken teeth. He looked like he had been in the water for years but that was impossible.

  He stood quietly, examining her with the only eye he had left. A black vein trailed from the other socket while a worm wiggled free from his nose and fell to the sand with a sloppy thud. Tonya screamed, signaling the man to action. He tackled her, falling on her with all of his weight and driving the air from her lungs. The thing scrambled to its feet and began pulling her to the lake by her hair. She tried to scream but couldn’t catch her breath. Her hands frantically wrestled with the slimy claw clinging to her hair like a locust, but the man moved fast and before she knew it, water was gushing into her mouth. He dove under and the two quickly vanished.

  Another flock of geese flew overhead, honking and flapping their way across the lake. The setting sun lit up their feathery sides while small waves gently lapped at the shoreline’s edge. Gradually, the water composed itself, returning to a glassy reflection of the towering Birch and Oak trees framing the lake. Stu’s cell phone began ringing in the sand, blasting Hells Bells loud enough to attract a lonely Northern Pintail to fly over and begin investigating.

  Ch
apter Five

  The fire popped, sending red embers bursting into the star-bedazzled heavens. It was too hot for a fire but camping without one just wasn’t right. The flames threw jumping shadows across the secluded campsite, nestled between the woods and the sandy shoreline. A light breeze rose to whistle through some tall pines while orange faces sat focused upon Clutch. He took off his John Deere trucker hat and wiped sweat from his forehead with a brawny shoulder.

  Rory found himself wanting a black John Deere cap with a silver logo like that, just like he had found himself wanting Clutch’s Jeep Wrangler on the way out to the lake. The four-by-four was black and topless with big, knobby tires that oozed coolness down the forested highway. He was also envious that Clutch had just paid the rig off, freeing up three hundred and thirty-five bucks a month - a feat the DJ had mentioned twice on the half-hour hike from the small, gravel parking lot. Both mentions had caused Rory to imagine heavyset men towing his new car away in the dead of the night.

  Woody’s shaggy head whipped around to the tree line behind him. He froze, staring into the amorphous shadows and listening for something that no one else had heard. Slowly, he turned back around with wide eyes. “Yo, did you guys hear that?”

  Ashley sat up straighter in her folding lawn chair and nervously scanned the woods. “Hear what?”

  Woody thrust a long finger into the air, pointing directly behind her. “Oh my God, she’s here! She’s come for us!”

  Ashley screamed and grabbed Kate, who shrieked even louder.

  Rory laughed and tipped back his cold can of Tecate, trying not to make eye contact with Rachel. The long, smooth legs spilling out of her tight-fitting denim shorts, however, made that difficult. Nonetheless, he refused to give her the satisfaction and kept his eyes on the DJ.

  Clutch took another gulp from a can of Icehouse, a thick leather cuff strangling his beefy wrist while the fire glinted off silver hoops in his ears. He swallowed and tapped cigarette ash onto where the dirt met the sand, letting his eyes bounce around the circle of friends. Satisfied he still had their attention, he returned his solemn gaze to the campfire. The meditative flames quickly lulled his vision from focus. “And she was never seen again,” he said heavily, taking a long drag off the smoke and flicking the butt into the fire, shooting sparks up into the moonlit sky.

  Rory accidentally traded a quick glance with Rachel. She rolled her eyes making Rory stifle a laugh. When he looked back up, Ashley was staring at him over the rim of her wine glass, her long blonde hair blurring in the fire’s wavering heat between them. She took a slow sip and swallowed, her smoky eyes sparkling in the light as her finger gently rimmed the edge of the glass. Rory took another drink and turned back to Clutch.

  “Over the years,” Clutch continued in a hushed whisper, his unfocused eyes boring into the fire. “People out here - walking their dogs, or fishing, or…camping - began reporting these loud, wailing screams off in the distance. Horrible, blood-curdling shrieks.” He cringed, as if the horrid events were replaying against the flames. “So loud, their echoes made it difficult to pinpoint where they were coming from.”

  Kate took a sip of her red wine, gazing at Woody and tucking a long strand of auburn hair behind an ear. Rory checked to see if Woody noticed, but he was too busy hanging on Clutch’s every word.

  Clutch set his beer can into a built-in cup holder on the lawn chair’s arm and surveyed the woods around them. “To this day,” he said slowly, clasping his hands together. “They say you can still hear her screams at night, but if you do, don’t go looking for her,” he said gravely, turning back to the others. “Unless you wanna be the next one…to stand in the corner.”

  Rory’s eyes darted around the circle while a symphony of frogs, crickets and locusts filled the dead air with Lake Darling’s night song. A fish jumped nearby (probably a walleye judging by the large splash) and sent ripples marching across a long sword of moonlight cutting the water in two. Clutch pulled another Marlboro Red from his pack and lit up. He exhaled a trail of smoke into the sky like a werewolf howling at the moon. Rory wondered if he smoked as much as he talked.

  Kate rapidly shook her head, like she had just taken a heavy right from Wladimir Klitschko. “Wait…that’s it?”

  Clutch tucked the lighter and smokes into the chair’s other cup holder and stared blankly at her. “That’s it.”

  Ashley pulled her yellow sundress down and curled her legs up on the chair. “I’m so freaked out right now,” she said in a tight voice, hugging her knees.

  Woody began canvassing the thick trees bordering the campsite, looking like he had just heard something for real this time.

  Rachel tilted her head and gawked at Clutch through slits. “But if you do…don’t go looking for her?”

  Clutch winked at her and made a clicking sound with his tongue. “That’s what they say, hot-stuff.”

  “Okay, umm,” Rory said, pausing to clear his throat. “I’m pretty sure that entire ghost story was The Blair Witch Project.”

  Clutch’s eyes landed hard on him, making Rory wish he would have just kept his mouth shut. He twisted in his chair under their weight. “Ya know, the movie?” he said, digging in deeper.

  Clutch slowly shook his head. “That’s the local legend, my friend,” he said softly, taking another pull from the can.

  Ashley lowered her legs and laughed sharply. “Local legend? Aren’t you from Nebraska?”

  “Guy I work with at the station told me about it.”

  Rory pretended like he didn’t just find out Ashley wasn’t wearing panties and turned back to Clutch. “Yeah, the whole kid standing in the corner of the house in the woods with the lost campers…that’s the Blair Witch,” he said, glancing to the others for help.

  Ashley and Kate looked at each other and shrugged. “Is that like Paranormal Activity?” Ashley asked.

  Clutch’s glassy gaze remained fixed on Rory. “No, that’s a true story, dude.”

  Rory laughed. “You mean like the one you told us on the way out here about the giant crocodile living in this lake?”

  Clutch leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, the crickets filling the awkward silence before he spoke again. “Don’t make things weird between us, Rory. It doesn’t have to be that way.”

  “Mark!” Rachel gasped, slapping his knee. “What the hell!”

  A surprised laugh escaped Rory’s lips. “I’m not trying to make things weird, dude, but you just described the entire plot of...”

  “Oh I forgot, Mr. Big Shot Movie Reviewer,” he grumbled, leaning back in the chair. “How dare I question your expertise?”

  Rachel clapped a hand over her breast, spilling some of her wine. “Mark, what is wrong with you?” she said icily.

  Clutch’s face slumped. “Babe, please don’t use my real name in public. I told you I sometimes get death threats from nutbags who don’t get their song played.”

  “Don’t be so rude!” She turned from him with a scowl and brushed a bug from her legs. “So embarrassing.”

  Rory snorted, thankful for the campfire camouflaging his ruby face, and took a long drink, hiding behind the can for as long as possible. He swallowed and released a wistful sigh, gazing at the stars which were so much brighter away from the city lights. “Man, I could go for sending out a tweet right about now.”

  Ashley laughed. “Are you jonesing that bad, Rory?”

  “Or one tiny Facebook post; just a little somethin to take the edge off.”

  Rachel giggled and shook her head.

  Rory sat up straighter. “Even if it was one of those dumb captions like, in order to be someone, you must first be yourself.”

  Kate laughed and choked on her wine, nearly falling over backwards in her chair. “I hate it when people post stupid shit like that!”

  “Or how about,” Rachel said, taking a deep breath. “Some people feel the rain, others just get wet.”

  Ashley laughed out loud. “Or…to the world you may be one person, but to o
ne person you may be the world,” she said overly serious.

  “Yeah,” Woody said excitedly, leaning forward in his lawn chair. “Or something like, no matter how carefully you choose your words, they’ll always end up being from someone else’s heart…”

  The laughter faded and everyone turned to him with scrunched up faces, absolute silence stealing across the flickering campsite.

  “What?” Ashley laughed.

  Clutch tipped his hat back and scratched his head while Kate developed a case of the giggles.

  “No wait!” Woody said, taking a deep breath and resetting. “No matter how wide a river, a bridge always runs through it.”