Texas Funeral

by Batcher, Jack

  “Is that a good idea?” Kelly said.

  “Hold still,” Doctor Hertz said, as he forcefully grabbed her right arm, and began to make the incision.

  Kelly couldn’t look, and fought her own reflexes to not pull away as the doctor cut her forearm. She could feel the cold knife smoothly opening up her skin, then a small pop and release of pressure. Doctor Hertz then began to push and squeeze her arm, as if he were trying to remove a cist. Kelly looked down at her arm and saw what looked like a giant white worm flailing out of her open wound.

  “What the hell is that?” Kelly cried.

  “It looks to be some sort of parasite,” Doctor Hertz said, moving closer to it to get a better look “Big, ugly sucker too.”

  The larva leapt from Kelly’s arm into Doctor Hertz left eye, and burrowed into his head. Doctor Hertz covered his eye with his hand, while screaming; he fell backwards onto the floor. Kelly screamed and noticed that she had more larvae crawling under the skin of her left arm. Nurse Frick stood up; blood was trickling out of her eyes.

  “Are you ok Josie?” Kelly said, her eyes wet from blood and tears. Nurse Frick looked back at Kelly as if she were lost. She let out a high pitched howl, and then her head rolled off her shoulders and bounced as it hit the tile floor. More flies filled the room, as nurse Frick’s body collapsed on top of Doctor Hertz. Doctor Hertz screamed under the weight of Nurse Frick’s headless body. Kelly ran out of the triage office screaming. She slipped and fell in a pool of blood on the waiting room floor.

  Kelly was immediately swarmed by more flies. She looked to the right of her into the empty eye sockets of a severed head. She screamed and looked to the left to see the headless body slithering with larvae. Kelly tried to get up but couldn’t. She let out a high pitched howl and her head was chewed off her neck.

  Carmela and I opened the door to the kitchen. “Dios Mio!” Carmela said, to the cook, “Pete what happened to Manny?”

  “I don’t know Carmela,” Pete said, “I was cleaning the grill, Manny was coming in from taking out the trash, and then he fell. He twitched some; maybe he’s having a seizure.”

  I got down on the floor to examine Manny. He had a definite fever. He also had a small trickle of blood coming out of his nose and ears. I noticed that Manny had a small lump on his right arm. It seemed to be moving. I thought that was interesting, but I did not want to worry Carmela and Pete with my theory.

  “I believe Manny needs to be taken to the hospital immediately,” I said.

  “No shit Sherlock,” Pete said, “Who the heck is this guy, Carmela?”

  “This is Ray,” Carmela said, “We were talking, when we heard the noise.”

  “Oh yeah, Manny hit his head on the table,” Pete said, “Probably why his nose is bleeding. Wait, looks like his ears too. Carmela, call for an ambulance.”

  Carmela went to the back office phone. Pete and I stood over Manny in an awkward silence. I had a bad feeling in my gut about all of this.

  “The line is busy,” Carmela called out, “even the operator is busy.” “Manny really needs to get to the hospital, Pete said, “I’d say I’d take him, but I don’t want to leave you hear alone Carmela.”

  “Ray will stay here with me,” Carmela said, with a sly smile.

  Pete looked at me while weighing the pros and cons of this new idea.

  “I guess I’m ok with that if you’re ok with that Ray,” Pete said, “It’d be a great help.”

  “Sure” I said, “Let me help you get him out to the

  car.”

  Pete and I lifted Manny, a stocky Mexican man, off of the kitchen floor. I held Manny’s feet, while Pete grabbed him from under his shoulders. Manny’s head was bent forward by Pete’s beer belly. Carmela opened the back door and turned on the light. We carried Manny down the steps and Carmela got ahead of us to open the passenger door to Pete’s pick up truck.

  “Maybe we should just lay him down in the back,” I suggested.

  “That’d be a good idea,” Pete said, “But I’ve got my tools in the back.”

  We lifted Manny into the passenger side seat of the pick-up truck. Pete used the seat belt to hold him in place. “The Hospital is only a few blocks away,” Pete said, “He should be alright like that till I get him there.”

  “Oh, ok” I said.

  Carmela had gone back inside The Road Kill Café. They did not want to leave the front counter unattended for to long.

  “Hey Ray,” Pete said, “Don’t be an asshole. I'll be back as soon as I get Manny situated at the hospital.” “Why sure, Pete,” I said, “Nothing to worry about here.” Pete got in his truck and started it up. He backed up and pointed the car towards Main Street. He rolled down the window and spat some juice from his chaw.

  “I know there’s nothing to worry about,” Pete said, “I just had to say it to make sure you understood. What the hell is with all these flies today? They are everywhere”

  Pete smacked a fly on his left arm, put the car in drive, and headed to the hospital. “What a douche bag,” I said, to myself, as I watched him pull away, I saw his Keep Austin Weird bumper sticker. “Let me get back in and finish my burger. I wonder where that peculiar sound is coming from. It sounds like a pack of wolves howling at the Moon.”

  9

  Pete and Manny were only a block away from Kilgore Memorial Hospital. Flies were splattering on the trucks windshield. Pete could hardly see through the window. He put on the wipers to see better, but it only made it worse by smearing the bug guts on the glass. Pete’s truck began to sputter and buck as steam came out of the hood. Pete pulled the car to the side as it rolled to a stop.

  “Damn it!” Pete said, as he smacked the steering wheel, “Of all the damn times for the truck to over heat.” Pete got out of the truck to open the hood. He stepped to the front of the truck, adjusted his Cowboys belt buckle, and spat out the brown juice from his chaw on the street.

  “Good God!” Pete said, “I don’t believe it. Look at all those damn flies clogging up the front end.” Pete took his right hand and scooped a hand full of flies off the front end of his car. The flies began to bite him. The flies crawled up his nose, in his ears. Pete swatted at the flies, and as he cursed they flew in his mouth.

  Pete noticed the truck started rocking violently. Pete looked in the truck and saw that Manny was shaking and his arms flailed about oddly. Manny let out a high pitched howl. Manny’s head rolled off his shoulders onto the floor of the truck. Blood and Flies filled the trucks cab

  “Holy shit!” Pete said, as he attempted to out run the flies and find shelter. Pete jumped over a chain link fence and landed in the backyard of someone’s house, which set off the back porch motion light. Pete gazed in awe at the house, because it was covered up to the roof with flies. In a panic he made a mad dash for the shed. Luckily it wasn’t locked and he was able to find shelter inside.

  “Oh damn,” Pete said, catching his breath, “what the fuck was all of that?” Pete had only a dim light from the back porch to get his bearings. He quickly looked around the shed for a light switch, but couldn’t find one. Then the porch light went out. Pete was in the dark. Pete went into his left pants pocket and pulled out his Zippo lighter. He lit it and looked around the shed for a better light.

  Pete felt something crawling on his arm and smacked it, but it wouldn’t go away. He brought the flame from the lighter close to his right forearm to see what was on him.

  “What the hell is that?” Pete screamed, when he realized what he thought was on him… was in him. Pete began to search for a knife to cut out this lump that was creeping up his arm. Pete tripped over a lawn mower and fell backward on to the floor. When he landed he immediately heard a distinctive hiss followed by a rattle. Pete had dropped his lighter; it had slid away from him, and stopped on some old rags. There was a small spark and then the rags caught fire. Pete tried to move away from the rattlesnake by slowly rolling to his right side, but as he got up the snake bit him on the ass. The flames grew larger as
Pete jumped and cursed attempting to shake the snake off his backside.

  Pete began to twitch as blood spurted out of his eyes. He let out a high pitched howl and his head rolled off his shoulders, his body collapsed with a thud on the shed floor.

  Carmela busied herself wiping down the counter and tables in the Road Kill Café, as I finished my burger, while searching Google on my iPhone for more unusual stories involving missing heads or flies in the city of Kilgore. I didn’t find anything that I hadn’t already heard about from the Kilgore News, and Carmela. A Kilgore Police car sped by with the siren screaming and the lights flashing. It was going in the same direction that Pete had gone towards Kilgore Memorial Hospital. Three more Police cars followed. I watched out the window as the taillights from the Police cars faded from my sight.

  It was almost two in the morning. I looked out over the quiet Main Street. I heard a peculiar hum, or buzzing sound. I looked up at the street lamp outside the café. It was covered in flies. I looked at the other street lamps, and they were also covered in flies. I felt an uneasiness in my stomach, but I didn’t think it was from the Road Kill Café burger.

  “Carmela,” I said, pointing out the café window, “Is this sort of thing normal around here?”

  “Dios Mio!” Carmela said, looking out at the street lamps, “No Ray, I haven’t seen anything like that before.”

  “I didn’t think so,” I said.

  “Look Ray,” Carmela said, pointing to the sky, “Is that more flies?”

  “Oh damn! Yes! It is more flies!”

  The sound of breaking glass, and the head splitting staccato beeps blaring from a store alarm snapped my attention to yet another horror. Main Street was filling with a growing mob of Kilgorians stammering like Zombies towards the Café. The screeching of tires from the opposite direction got our attention as a green SUV swerved wildly toward the Zombies, then skidded, and crashed into a street lamp pole. The driver smashed through the front window of his truck with the collision, and a black cloud of flies followed him.

  “Look Ray,” Carmella said, pointing at the accident victim, “He doesn’t have a head.” “Carmela, you should lock the doors to the Café,” I said, in as a cool and collected tone as I could muster.

  “That’s a good idea,” Carmela said, and quickly went to the front of the café, “Dios Mio! Ray come here quick!”

  I couldn’t believe my eyes when I got to the front of the café. The front doors and window panes were crawling with flies. Behind the flies, I was able to see a few people wondering aimlessly.

  “It is like we are trapped in two horror movies at once,” I said to Carmela, “The Swarm and The Night of the Living Dead.”

  Carmela just stared in horrified disbelief at the wall of flies.

  “Carmela,” I said, “Do you have any bug spray here in the Café?”

  “Yes,” Carmela said, “There are a couple cans of Raid in the back. I’ll go get them.” Carmela went into the Kitchen. I locked the doors. I noticed a black woman walking towards the door after I had locked it. She dragged her right leg and occasionally swung her left arm over her head, which was hanging down. I thought she was swatting at the flies. I could see these large lumps in her skin. They moved, then stopped, then moved again. She got up close to the door and bumped into it. Slowly she raised her head. I was looking into her dark red and crusted empty eye sockets. Her eyes had been eaten. Her mouth opened wide with a high pitched howl. Blood oozed out over her chin and ran rivers down her throat. She began to tremble and twitch uncontrollably. Her head hung forward again, then dropped at her feet. Her headless body collapsed in front of the café doors. A mass of flies flew out of her.

  I stood in shocked silence as this all happened and felt a crushing wave of guilt wash over me, because I knew I was responsible for this infestation that has destroyed Kilgore, and I had no way to stop it. I didn’t even know if I would survive it. I’m like Dr. Frankenstein with an out of control deadly monster. I pulled myself together, my survival instinct pushing me forward, and moved the cigarette machine in front of the window. I pushed a table in front of the other window and some chairs too. Then I went to the kitchen to check on Carmela, she should have been back with the bug spray by now.

  I went into the kitchen to find Carmela standing on a stack of boxes next to a metal shelf. “I think the bug spray is on the top shelf,” Carmela said, “but, I cannot reach it.”

  “Yes,” I said, “I see it.” Then I went and pulled down the two cans of bug spray.”

  “Show off,” Carmela said, with a smile, as she got down from the boxes, “I don’t think that is going to be enough spray.”

  “No, it won’t be,” I said, “I’m hoping it’ll keep the flies from getting in.

  I sprayed around the exhaust fan and sealed it shut. Then I locked the back door, and sprayed around it. I went back to the front of the café and sprayed around the front doors.

  “Are there any other openings to the café, Carmela?”

  “No, I think you have sprayed them all,” Carmela

  said, “Is that really going to work Ray?”

  “Not permanently,” I said, “But, I’m hoping it’ll

  buy us some time to think of a better plan.”

  “How are we going to get out of here, Ray?”

  Carmela asked, with fear in her voice.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, shutting off the outside neon

  lights, “Are there any candles in here?”

  Carmela reached under the counter and pulled out two boxes of Birthday Cake Candles. We both gave a nervous laugh. Carmela took a candle from the box, stuck it in a cinnamon apple muffin, and lit it. I shut off the lights to the dinning room. It is 3:30 AM, and about another three hours until sunrise. As we sat there in almost complete darkness and the buzzing sound of the growing swarm outside. We both jumped with a startle when we heard a loud thump.

  12

  Kilgore Police Chief Robert Jones, pulled his police cruiser into the emergency room parking lot of Kilgore Memorial Hospital. He was called there in the middle of the night because of what was described to him by Officer Jose Martinez, as a plague of biblical

  proportions. The Chief had to come and see what was going on, because Officer Martinez, was prone to over exaggerations of minor instances. In this case though, Officer Martinez was gravely understating the horror show at the hospital.

  Chief Jones’s passenger side door opened quickly and shut just as fast when Officer Marta Garcia, jumped into the police cruiser. She smacked and slapped at the flies crawling on her arms, legs, and face. She pulled flies out of her hair.

  “Chief Jones,” Officer Garcia said, “It is insane out there. All these damn flies. So many people are dead, and have no heads!”

  “No heads?” Chief Jones asked. “Yes, no heads,” Officer Garcia said, “There is blood everywhere inside the hospital. Looks like a massacre took place in there. I’ve never seen anything like it my life. These damn flies keep biting me!”

  Chief Jones smacked a fly on his face, and then another that he felt crawling on the back of his neck. Officer Marta noticed on her right forearm, that something was crawling under her skin. She felt something crawling on her left leg. It was big enough to be visible through her pants. She smacked it, but it only stopped for a second, and then began to creep again. Chief Jones took out his pocket knife and cut her pants leg where the creeping bulge was. There was something moving in her left thigh, under her skin.

  “I don’t like any of this,” Chief Jones said, “Marta, I want you to find Officer Martinez and Smith, and tell them to head back to the station. I’m going to call the Mayor. We are going to need some sort of help dealing with this, but I don’t know from who. I’ll also call for a doctor to help you at the station Marta. Now get going.”

  “Yes sir,” Officer Garcia said, and got out of the car. Chief Jones watched Officer Marta Garcia as she closed the car door. She took two steps from the car and began to twitch. She stag
gered in a circle. Then she turned back around and slammed her face into the cruisers passenger side window. Chief Jones was stunned in disbelief as she rammed her head against the window again. Her face was mashed against the glass. Her right eyeball burst like a boil and blood oozed out of the eye socket. She seemed to be pulled back by an invisible force, and then rammed her face into the glass again. This time the glass cracked and pebbled.

  Chief Jones started the police cruiser and sped away. He stopped to look back at Officer Garcia. She stumbled awkwardly. She let out a high pitched howl. Her head dropped to the asphalt, followed by her body. Flies came out of her corpse like a squadron of a thousand fighter jets. Chief Jones smacked another fly off his hand. He pulled his cell phone out of his left shirt pocket and called Mayor Valdez.

  13

  Mayor Ricardo Valdez was doing some late night entertaining in the Mayoral Office of Kilgore Town Hall. His old friend and saxophone player, Donald Mang, of Lil’ Dickey Valdez and The Fireballs, was visiting for the weekend. They were trading shots of Mezcal, snorting cocaine, and having fun with some local Kilgore hookers. Donald Mang was creeping out a petite half black, half Mexican blonde transvestite, who calls himself Churita. Donald had him cornered and went on with his mad peyote ramblings of philosophical junk. He was hard wired and gnashing his teeth from too much powder.

  The blaring horns of Johnny Cash’s Ring of Fire interrupted the party, as they blasted from Mayor Valdez’s cell phone. The good Mayor was in the middle of snorting a line of cocaine off of the firm right buttock of a redheaded call girl, she went by the name Ginger. Ginger was laying facedown on the oak wood desk in front of him. While, underneath his desk a busty brunette of Mexican decent was giving him a blowjob. He hadn’t bothered to get her name, and if she told him, he didn’t remember it. Old rock star habits are hard to break.