Zombies, Werewolves, Whores, and More!

by Jerrod Balzer

  “Well, one chilly, spring night, I answered a knock at the door and there was my nephew, standing in front of me. He couldn’t have been alive. It was just his walking corpse that had aged a few years as though it was alive. It was so grotesque with a horrible look on its face. The little black hole in its head was all scarred up, and its eyes were like silver discs that shined in the light. I suppose it was from being underdeveloped in the dark, but whatever made them like that, it was worse than any nightmare I’d had. Its fingers were a mess, too, raw and covered in splinters from clawing at its burial chest, which I’m sure must have been crushing it as it grew.

  “At first, I was too terrified to move or say anything, but when it made a strange guttural sound and reached for me, I screamed. Father grabbed it and ran outside. There was an old concrete cellar at the rear of our property that we never used, and he chained it in there for the night.”

  “Could your sister tell what was going on?”

  “I think so, because she was dead the next morning. She’d found a stretch of wire, tied it to a water pipe, and hung herself on it. She was probably the lucky one.”

  A loud bang shook the walls around their cell. The men jumped to their feet and strained to see through the window’s bars. A police car had run into the jailhouse and parts of the neighboring cell’s wall crumbled from the impact. Trevor looked at the tavern but no one there noticed. As the cloud of concrete dust settled around the vehicle, Sheriff Skinner stepped out and walked by the window, pausing to glare at the prisoners. His sickly appearance and the chunk of flesh missing from his neck signified his recent demise.

  “Um, Sheriff,” Trevor said. “Are you dead?”

  It snarled and reached for him through the bars. The neck wound was dribbling blood down its arms, which slung droplets around the cell as they thrashed. All they could do was back away and yell for help until it gave up and continued toward the station’s entrance.

  The guard stormed in and demanded to know what was going on. A brief explanation was given and although he didn’t believe that Skinner was a zombie, he saw the busted wall and fumed. Curtis told them to sit tight and left to confront him as he entered the building. A loud commotion followed. Shouts and gunfire echoed in the halls for several minutes. Trevor and Josh cringed at every noise with their eyes glued to the door. Then the building fell silent.

  “I bet he went back to the gas station,” Trevor said. “Maybe Frank rose up and took a bite out of him.”

  “Maybe,” Josh said. “He could have been anywhere in town when he was attacked, though. Like I said, they’re probably working their way through all the houses.”

  “Then tell me quick.” Trevor eyed the door. “What did your dad do next?” He wanted to know the full story to be better prepared.

  “Oh yeah. He spent the next day burying my sister and bricking up the door to the cellar. Then he parked an old tractor against it for added security. It took another eighteen years, but it looks like Zachary finally clawed its way through the mortar. And now, it’s finally carrying out the curse.

  “I moved to Rolla as soon as I was old enough and made a point not to visit much. I called this morning, though, being Mother’s Day and all, and her voice seemed agitated.”

  Trevor shook his head. His own mother was ten times better than Josh’s, and even he still called. Stay alive, Mom, until I can get out of this. Please!

  Josh kept going, “It took some convincing, but she told me she’d heard a lot of strange noises last night and was concerned. She went to the old cellar and saw a hole at the bottom of the brick wall. She watched it for a while and was startled when a pale, mangled hand reached out and pushed at the tractor. Then it scraped at the wall and wiggled another brick free. Once she’d explained it, she broke down and cried. She was so terrified. That was all I could get out of her before Father came along and made her hang up the phone.

  “I rushed to town as fast as possible, but I was too late. My folks were dead in the living room. Father’s bibs had been pulled down and there was a hole ripped from under his ribcage. I reattached the bibs the best I could to cover the hole and looked at my mother. She had been bent over the couch’s arm and had large chunks torn from her side. Jesus, blood was everywhere.

  “I looked for a weapon. Father’s gun was on the floor but out of bullets, and I had no idea where to find more - they weren’t where he used to keep them. Then I remembered an aluminum bat that was always propped in the pantry with the vacuum cleaner and mop. Having it there made Mother feel safe. It’s hard to say why she didn’t have it out, unless she figured Father and his gun was all the protection she’d need. It was right where I remembered, though, so I took it with me to check the cellar.

  “I found the hole in the brick wall. The tractor was pushed away enough for someone to squeeze past it, but there was no sign of my nephew. When I returned to the kitchen to call 911, I heard something stirring in the living room. I thought perhaps it was Zachary and peeked through the doorway, but it was my father rolling around on the floor, trying to get up. I watched him for a moment, unable to react, and then looked at my mother. She turned her head and smiled at me. Her eyes showed recognition even through the glazed look of death. Once they were on their feet, they came toward me. I begged them to stay away. Granted, I’d fantasized many times in the past of avenging Josie by kicking the shit out of them, but they were still my folks. If I could avoid it, I didn’t really want to hurt them.”

  Trevor’s eyes were now locked on Josh’s face, hanging on every word.

  “Actually, that’s not true. I did want to hurt them, but I was still afraid of their wrath after all these years. They had me backed up against the kitchen counter when Father grabbed my arm. The cold grasp made something snap inside me. All my childhood rage filled me and I exploded on them with the bat. I knocked Father away and hesitated only for a moment before crunching the back of his skull in. He fell over the sink and I thought he was done for, until he looked up at me with this black stuff dribbling out of his mouth.

  “Then Mother came at me. I resented her less, yet fought her off just as hard. When I had the opportunity, I ran out through the kitchen door and waited for them to come out, but they didn’t. Several minutes later, I heard the front door open and I ran around to check it out. They were stumbling off to town. I chased after them, but they made it to the woods and I wasn’t about to follow. For all I knew, my nephew was waiting in there for me.

  “I jumped in my truck and went to inform the police. Unfortunately, I was too honest with my explanation and they laughed me out of the station. At that point, I was tempted to leave. I didn’t feel any real responsibility to my folks, especially now that they were deceased - technically. To hell with them! Then again, they were dangerous and someone had to stop them. If they ate some kid and I could have stopped it, I’d never be able to live with myself, you know?

  “I started back to the house, and that’s when I saw my father in front of the drugstore. There was this guy looking at his prescriptions, not even aware of the dead man behind him, preparing to chomp on his shoulder. I stomped on the gas and jumped the curb, barreling right at him. He looked up and closed his mouth just before I hit him, and then the drugstore’s front window helped me stop. The guy was safe. He fell off to the side, but there were screams and a crowd drew fast. When they pulled me out, I started spouting all the zombie shit to everyone and ended up here. Once they were sure I was sober, they wanted to hold me until Father turned up, in case he wanted to press charges. Well, you know the rest.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Part Three: Zombie Bastard

  They heard something in the next room. The dead were stirring.

  “So what do you think?” Josh said.

  “I think I should have shit in the woods and kept moving.”

  “I mean now. Have you got any ideas?”

  “We could yell at the bar and see if anyone comes to help.”

  “I already tried t
hat before you got here. Word has gotten around of my spectacle, so I’m a laughing stock. ‘Little Josh Jones is all grown up and batshit crazy!’ It’s a small town, remember?”

  “Well then, I guess we’re fish in a barrel.”

  The room’s door creaked open and they tensed up. The guard walked in, mucous and blood dribbling from where his nose used to be, and it pointed a pistol at them. Josh gritted his teeth and made a high-pitched sound while Trevor bent his knees, prepared to dodge one way or the other depending on the aim. The first shot spun Josh around. The second whizzed past Trevor’s ear and took a chunk from the wall behind him. For a second, Trevor thought he was hit when he felt the sting of concrete fragments on his neck. A series of clicks followed. The other bullets must have been used in defense when the guard was still alive.

  “Oh shit shit shit shit shit.” Josh lifted his shirt, afraid of what damage had been done. Trevor helped, and was pleased to find the wound to be slight, merely grazed under the armpit.

  The guard groaned at them, dropped the gun, and pulled on the cell’s bars. Trevor had an idea. He reached out and tickled the zombie’s side, then withdrew fast.

  “Gitchy goo!”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Josh said. “Have you lost it?”

  “Nah, you’ll see.” He tickled the guard again. It snarled at him and took a swipe. Trevor grabbed its arm with both of his and pulled the monster tight against the cell. “Get the keys off his belt!”

  Josh stood still at first, amazed at his boldness and still stunned from being shot.

  “Josh!”

  He snapped out of it and jumped to action. He tried to unclip them from Curtis’ belt. The zombie was too strong, however, and broke free of Trevor’s hold before he could get them.

  “Damn!”

  Curtis looked down at the keys and then to Josh, attempting to think. It unclipped the ring and sorted through them until it found the right one. Trevor grinned. “Ha! Oh please Mr. Zombie, don’t come in here after us.”

  They backed up until the guard stepped inside, and then they rushed the monster, slamming it against the far wall. They ran for the exit while it was dazed, but Trevor stopped Josh from opening the door. “Wait, we should get the gun.”

  “It’s out of bullets!”

  “We’re in a police station! There’s bound to be more.” He went to pick it up while staying clear of the guard. Curtis ignored him and advanced on Josh, who opened the door to see a rifle barrel pointed at his face. He ducked just as it fired. The blast was deafening and the wind from it brushed his hair. Trevor covered his face as the guard took the hit, spraying blood, brains, and skull fragments from the back of its head.

  Josh grabbed the stock of the gun and pried it loose from Skinner’s hands. After knocking it back with the butt, he stepped back, flipped the rifle around, and put a bullet in its eye. After taking a moment to reflect on what he’d done, Josh stepped over the corpse and into the office area of the station. Trevor shoved the empty pistol into his pants, plucked a fire axe from the wall, and followed.

  An undead Amy was sitting on the floor with an odd look on its face. It stood up when they entered and made a noise at them. With the loud, wet sound of suction being released, the zombie’s intestines slid from its open cavity and plopped on the floor. Josh raised the rifle, but instead of firing, he turned his head to vomit. It stepped forward, but began slipping on itself. This allowed plenty of time for Josh to straighten up, get a bead on her head and fire, ruining the dimples on her face.

  Officer Parks rose from behind the desk and aimed its gun at them. Trevor ducked down while Josh fired. In his haste, Parks was hit in the chest, but the force of the blast knocked it back in the seat. They heard the gun drop to the floor. Trevor ran up to it, careful to step around Amy, and raised the axe.

  “Hello, Francis!” Trevor brought the blade down on its head. The first blow didn’t quite do the job, but the second dug deep into the zombie’s brain and put it out of commission.

  “Well.” He pried the axe away from the corpse. “Let’s hope they’re all this easy.”

  Josh gave him a dirty look. “You’re enjoying this too much. You do realize that if we survive this, the authorities will probably think we killed all these people.”

  “Look, truth be told,” Trevor said in a calm voice, and then yelled, “I’m really freaked out right now!” He exhaled loudly. “I’m not enjoying this, but my adrenaline is pumping and we don’t have much choice. If I don’t joke a little bit, I’ll go insane. It’s like a defense mechanism, okay?”

  “I’m sorry.” Josh relaxed his shoulders. “I snap at people when I’m stressed. Let’s load up on bullets and get out of here.” They filled their pockets with as much ammo as they could hold and looked out the front window. The town’s undead had filled the street, all pointed at Ebb’s Saloon.

  “I’m gonna need more than a handgun, for sure.” Trevor strapped on a police belt to holster his weapon and picked up the fire axe again. He didn’t want to run out of bullets and end up with nothing else to use. Josh seemed content with the rifle, but found a hunting knife and strapped it to his ankle. Trevor checked the parking lot out back for an accessible vehicle. When Josh asked, he informed him that his car must still be at the gas station.

  “We can’t use the truck,” Josh said. “It was probably towed away after crashing into the drugstore. What about cop cars? I imagine we can find the keys.” He searched the desks while Trevor poked his head out the rear door again, considering the idea. A nearby zombie made a noise like “Waa” and a group of corpses stormed the door. He latched it shut and backed away as they banged on it.

  “I’d suggest we seek other options. Can you hotwire a car?”

  “I haven’t a clue.”

  “Me neither. What about the radio?”

  “We’d be dead before anyone got here.” Josh looked out the front window again. “Well, the ones out here have their attention on the bar. I wonder if we can slip behind them and run to your car. Do you have the keys with you?”

  “No, Skinner took them. Let me check.” Trevor eased to the floor next to his body, careful so the bullets in his jeans didn’t jab his leg. He grimaced, reached into the corpse’s pants pocket, and fished around.

  “Try to hurry,” Josh said. The banging on the rear door was louder, more determined.

  “Ah shit.”

  “What? What?”

  “I think I just grabbed his dick.”

  Anger flared in Josh’s eyes. “Quit messing around!”

  “I’m not! I can’t help it. His pockets are all twisted. Ah ha!” He pulled his hand out and dangled the keys, happier than he’d ever been to see them. After he stood and shoved them in with the bullets, Trevor looked at Josh. Neither said a word. They knew they’d have to make a run for it, covering three blocks to the end of the street and two blocks south to the gas station.

  *****

  A zombie entered the bar, walking to the beat of “Stray Cat Strut” that played from the portable DJ booth. It glanced around in the smoky haze and found an empty stool to sit on. The big-breasted blonde who had flashed the guys was seated next to it as she talked to her date. The bartender poured a beer and slid it in front of the creature, saying, “Hey Paul, I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s the old lady?”

  The zombie sniffed the beer and pushed it away. Then it turned to the woman’s bare arm and drooled, but she left with her boyfriend in time to miss its open mouth lunging at her. It leaned off the stool and followed them to the other end of the room where they joined the line dancing. It stumbled into the group after her, disrupting the dancers and getting pushed around. The creature became enraged and attacked the nearest throat. Screams followed. Two cowboys wrestled the zombie to the entrance and shoved it out. In an effort to keep its balance, it grabbed the door and it fell to the sidewalk with him. It roared up at the laughing men. They looked him over, at the blood stains on its shirt from the wounds underneath, and i
ts pale appearance.

  “We ain’t playing ‘Thriller,’ asshole!” Then they noticed all the figures standing in the street. “Oh boy.”

  This served as a signal for the rest of the undead to advance, and The Stray Cats were soon drowned out by a series of crashes, screams and gunshots.

  *****

  “Come on,” Josh said. “Let’s move while they’re distracted. We might make it if we can avoid a crowd.”

  They bolted out the door to their right and made it two blocks before running into a handful of dead citizens in their nightgowns and pajamas. Josh was quick to start shooting, not thinking about whether or not he knew his targets when they were alive. Trevor wasn’t as accurate with the pistol, but he was getting the job done. Once he’d finished the first round of bullets, he holstered it and held the axe with both hands. A woman rushed him from the side and he buried the spike end into her head. Blood gushed from under her hair and she collapsed to the pavement with a final whimper.

  “Um.” Josh watched Trevor pull the axe out, making a crackle sound as it ground its way back out of the skull. “I don’t think she was a zombie.”

  “Oh.” Trevor winced. “My bad.”

  The gunshots drew the attention of others, so they had to hurry. After reloading, they rounded the corner and found the way was fairly clear to the gas station. Screams from the alleyway caught Trevor’s attention when they passed. Some of the bar’s patrons had escaped through the back entrance and had zombies waiting for them. He thought he saw two silver eyes flash in the moonlight before Josh urged him to keep going. He recalled Zachary’s description while they ran but didn’t mention it. There was no sense in distracting Josh from their goal.