Infernal Corpse

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Infernal Corpse Page 4

by D. J. Goodman


  For the next several minutes, there wasn’t much else to do or say. A few of the customers went back to their tables and picked at their orders, but mostly they just stood around, glancing nervously at the girl on the floor as though this would be the time they looked and she was no longer breathing. She stayed unconscious but her breathing was surprisingly steady. Twice, Angie risked putting her hand back on Megan’s forehead. The second time she thought maybe Megan had cooled down just a tad, but that could have been wishful thinking for all she knew.

  “Shouldn’t Becca have come back by now?” Beth asked Johnny. He shrugged as though he weren’t worried, even though Angie could tell he was thinking the same thing. Becca’s house was only a couple of blocks away, and she had been running when she left. Come to think of it, at least one of the volunteer fire fighters should have shown up by now as well.

  “Hey Rudy, could you try calling Tina again?” Angie asked. “I’m starting to get worried.”

  “You’re only starting now?” Rudy asked. “I’ve been worried for the last ten minutes.” He did as she asked, though, going over to the phone next to the cash register and dialing. Angie went into the back to get her own smartphone from her purse just in case she needed it. There were dead spots all over Mukwunaguk, but here at least she had a signal if she needed it.

  “Hmm. I wonder,” Boris asked. Angie looked over to see him staring at her phone.

  “Wonder what?” Angie asked. Instead of answering, he walked over to Megan and began going through the pockets of her coat. Angie almost objected, thinking he might find Megan’s meds, but he found what he was looking for before he got to that pocket. With a smile, he took it out and showed it to everyone. Megan’s own phone.

  “So?” Kevin asked.

  “So maybe she thought to get a picture of whatever happened to her.”

  “Smart,” Angie said, although she loathed paying the guy a compliment. “Well? Anything?”

  “Hold on a second,” Boris said. He swiped a couple times on her phone. “No recent pictures, but it looks like maybe she took a video?” He held it up where everyone else could see it as he pressed play, but there was ultimately nothing to see. The image was nothing but a blurry gray shadow that occasionally jostled.

  “She must have accidently started a video when she put it in her pocket,” Beth said. “Probably not going to get anything out of that.”

  “No, let it keep going,” Angie said. “She didn’t get any video but maybe she got something on the audio.”

  Ignoring the image now, they all listened intently. Boris had to turn it up all the way for them to hear anything at all, and what they did hear was muffled.

  “Sounds like Megan saying something,” Johnny said.

  “Yeah, but I can’t make it out,” Kevin said.

  “Wait! Did you hear that?” Beth asked.

  “What?” Boris asked.

  Angie made a rewinding motion with her finger. “Go back so we can listen to that part again.”

  He did, and now that they were all waiting for it they could clearly hear another voice speaking. “Anyone recognize that voice?” Angie asked.

  “Are you even sure it’s a voice at all?” Jasmine asked. “Didn’t sound very human to me.”

  Angie couldn’t argue with that, but there was still a pattern to the muffled sounds that suggested speech. There were more noises that must have been Megan, sounds like rocks or stones clinking together, maybe even splashes of water. They all leaned in closer, expecting to hear something that would force this all to make sense.

  Instead, they were rewarded with an ear-piercing scream, amplified by the fact that Boris had turned the phone all the way up. They all jumped back.

  “Turn it off!” Beth said. “Please, turn it off.”

  Angie supposed there could still be more in the recording that they could use to piece this together, but even still she didn’t want to keep listening to that scream as it continued. Boris turned it off and set the phone down on a nearby table, no longer so keen to hold it.

  “Well, that was disturbing,” Old Bert said. Angie noticed that during the recording he’d pulled out his pistol from its holster and had it sitting on a table nearby as though he expected to need it soon. Who knew? With the way things were going, Angie was starting to think he might.

  Four

  Angie had only been partly listening to Rudy’s conversation on the phone, but the look on his face when he hung up told her it had not gone well.

  “So?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

  “I could barely even make out what Tina was saying, she was so hysterical. But I got the gist of it.”

  Angie waited for him to say more, yet he seemed hesitant. He wouldn’t even look her in the eyes, instead staring down at one of the salt shakers on the counter as though that would make whatever Tina had said go away.

  “And?” Kevin said. He’d come to stand next to Angie beside the counter. The rest of the customers seemed to take that as a sign that they needed to congregate in the same place. The only one who stayed over by Megan was Kim, who stooped low but wouldn’t get too close to her daughter. Kim was whispering something, either to herself or to Megan, but Angie couldn’t make out what.

  “She said she hasn’t been able to contact Bob and Louie again. They reported in right before they got out of the car at the cabin but haven’t said anything since. She tried ringing the landline in the cabin but no one answered, and none of the cell phones of anyone else who went there are working.”

  “Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Johnny said.

  “Uh, I don’t think that’s the worst of it. That’s just what Tina was able to get out before she started full on blubbering. It sounded like she was saying there’s been other 911 calls all over town, or maybe it was just more on the west side, closer to that cabin out there.”

  Angie tried to control the sinking fear that threatened in her stomach. “And? What were they saying?”

  “That’s the part I wasn’t really able to understand. Tina’s words got kind of incoherent there, and then she just abruptly said she had to go. And she hung up.”

  “The 911 dispatcher actually hung up on you?” Jasmine asked.

  “Yup.”

  Angie went over to the phone herself and dialed 911. The phone just rang. She tried City Hall’s main number and got nothing there, either. After asking a few of the customers, she got Tina’s cell number. That one went directly to voice mail.

  “Johnny, what’s Becca’s cell number?” Angie asked. He told her and she called, but the results there were just as predictable.

  “Holy shit, what’s going on?” Beth asked.

  “Back in the old days, I would say Commies,” Old Bert said. “But these days? Probably ISIS. This is a terrorist attack, I tell you. They’ve finally come for us.”

  “It’s Big Pharma,” Kim said, not moving from her place at Megan’s side.

  “It’s not Commies, it’s not ISIS, and it sure as hell isn’t Big Pharma,” Angie said testily. “Wild speculation isn’t going to help.”

  “Then what is it, little miss smarty-pants?” Bert asked.

  “How the hell should I know?” Angie asked. “When did I get elected the leader here?” Nobody replied, although Angie thought she knew the answer. Whatever was going on here, she’d become the leader of this peculiar little group the instant she had taken charge of the situation after the crash. “First thing we need to do is stay inside,” she said. “No one else is going out until we have a better idea of what’s happening.”

  “What about Becca?” Johnny asked.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Angie said. It was a lie, and from the looks on everyone’s faces they all knew it. There was absolutely zero reason for Becca not to be back. They all seemed willing to accept the lie for now, though, as long as it meant that someone was stepping up and doing something, even if that something was telling them to do nothing.

  “Maybe we should just send out a s
mall group to look for her,” Kevin said. “We could even keep cell phone contact the whole time.”

  “No,” Angie said.

  “Why not?” Kevin asked.

  “Because splitting up is what stupid people do in the movies, and we already did it once. No, we wait. We can keep trying to call people, though.”

  Rudy sighed. “I guess I’ll keep on that.”

  “How’s Megan looking?” Angie asked.

  Beth now stooped next to Kim. “She’s not getting any better, but I guess she’s not getting any worse.”

  “Okay,” Angie said, a sense of panic beginning to set in as she realized everyone expected her to do something here, yet she had run out of ideas.

  “Hey, I think I see someone,” Boris said. He’d been staring out the window for the past few minutes in the direction Becca had gone. He pointed in the opposite direction, though, and Angie risked getting close enough to him again to look out. A few tiny white flakes had started to float through the air and would soon be thick enough to obscure her vision, especially since the daylight had all but faded to a hazy twilight. Through this, she thought she saw someone standing in the middle of the street, or maybe they weren’t standing but walking at an incredibly slow pace. From this distance, Angie couldn’t recognize who it might be, but she was immediately worried that anyone would be just walking down the middle of a street with an obvious storm approaching.

  “Everyone stay inside,” she said as she went into the back and got her coat.

  “What, you’re going out there?” Boris asked.

  “Someone’s got to find out what’s going on some way.”

  “But you just got done telling us that splitting up was a bad idea.”

  “I’m just going to stay in front of the café. You’ll be able to see me at all times. Besides, whoever it is they’re more likely to need help like Megan than to want to hurt us.”

  “Hurt us? Someone wants to hurt us?” Kim said, much louder than was necessary. Angie sighed, reminding herself to watch her words a little closer next time.

  “Just everyone stay put, all right? I won’t be more than a minute or two.”

  Angie cautiously walked out the door. As soon as she was outside, she pulled out her pack of cigarettes and shook one out, lighting it before she went any further in the cold. Truthfully, this had been just as much an excuse to light up as it had been to explore this mystery. She wasn’t even sure that she wanted to know what was going on. When she looked back at the café, though, she saw everyone’s faces fogging up the glass as they watched, most of them probably expecting her to disappear just like Becca. Somehow the small town waitress had become the one all these people were looking to for answers.

  “All right then, let’s see what we can find out,” Angie muttered, blowing smoke out the side of her mouth before walking toward the person in the street. She was mindful to keep herself within view of everyone inside. She also made sure to stay in the middle of the street herself. It wasn’t like some truck was about to come along and mow her down given the way the weather was beginning to look, and she’d read enough suspense novels to know that, under strange circumstances, one should never get too close to out of the way nooks, crannies, alleys, or doorways.

  “Hello?” she called to the person down the street. “Who is it?”

  The only response the person gave was a couple of shambling steps in her direction before stopping again. Angie herself stopped in her tracks, not liking the looks of this at all. She was at least close enough now to see that the person was a man, although the increasing number and fury of snowflakes in the air kept her from discerning his identity yet. A quick comparison of the man’s shape to every male she knew in town didn’t help. Maybe he wasn’t one of the townsfolk at all. She wasn’t positive about who or how many tourists were still in the cabin out closer to the Porcupines, but it seemed possible that this could be one of them.

  “You don’t need to be afraid,” Angie said. As soon as the words came out, she realized they were directed more at herself than at the man. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  The man started walking again, moving rather slowly but not stopping this time. Quite against her own will, Angie found herself taking a few steps back, despite the distance still between them.

  The man was about six feet tall with glasses on his face and a ball cap on his head, but the closer he got, the more these details seemed off. His glasses were askew on his nose and the cap had dark spots on it that Angie imagined could very well be splattered blood. Incongruously, the man didn’t have a coat on but rather wore a Hawaiian shirt. Despite this, the cold didn’t seem to have any effect on him.

  Angie backed away as quickly as she could without outright running. For all she knew, running would just invite the mystery man to do the same. Even as she tried to keep an eye on him, she nervously glanced around and behind her, very much aware that this had all the hallmarks of some kind of ambush. For a moment, she thought she might just be acting paranoid. Then she saw another one. Stumbling through the small parking lot next to the hair salon, she saw a woman. This one was close enough that Angie could tell for certain that it was a stranger. She was about Angie’s size and maybe slightly older. Like the man, she wasn’t wearing a coat, instead having only a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that said “Keep Calm and Ask a Librarian” as her protection against the elements. Like the man, her movements were halting and jerking. Unlike the man, she was very clearly injured, her arms covered in blackened bite marks suspiciously similar to the one on Megan’s shoulder. Her skin was pale and her expression vacant. She didn’t even look like she saw Angie, yet she still walked directly toward her.

  Yes, Angie decided. This was very clearly the part where she needed to run.

  No longer even bothering to keep an eye on the man, Angie turned and sprinted back to the front door of the café. A word was already starting to go through her head, a word that was completely ridiculous yet seemed to be the only one that fit what she was seeing.

  Zombies.

  Before she got to the door, Angie risked another look back. Another person (another zombie?) had appeared from somewhere behind the man. This was another woman with a purple stripe in her bangs and green cat-eye glasses, and if those glasses by themselves didn’t give away her profession then her shirt, a perfect match to the one worn by the other woman, did. Angie had a stray thought – Who knew Mukwunaguk was such a popular librarian vacation spot? – before concentrating on opening the door and slamming it behind her.

  “What? What is it? What’s going on?” Boris asked. Angie ignored him. She turned the lock on the front door and took a step back to examine it. The entire door was made of glass. It might have been a particularly strong type of glass, but it would still shatter if someone or something outside gave it the right motivation.

  “Everyone needs to block the door,” she said. “Something heavy that won’t get pushed over easily.” She realized she still had her cigarette in her mouth, then thought back to her smoke break earlier. “Rudy, run in back and make sure I locked the door.”

  “Young lady, I’m not doing anything until you explain what the hell’s going on,” Old Bert said.

  What the hell was she supposed to say, that Mukwunaguk was being invaded by zombie tourists? No one would believe her. Maybe if they were all a little tipsy and it was the middle of summer they might think it possible, given how little regard one or two of them had for tourists anyway, but not now. Angie herself wasn’t sure she believed it. This could still be some elaborate joke.

  Angie looked over at Megan still prone on the floor. She didn’t look so bad anymore, but there was nothing fake about her injury. This was not a prank. And there was definitely something wrong with those people out there, even if they weren’t really zombies.

  “I’m not even sure myself, but you’ve got to trust me,” Angie said. She looked out the windows and saw the three tourists meet in the street then continue their slow shuffle toward the caf
é. In the other direction, the one where Becca had gone, a third woman came into view, short with black curly hair and the only one wearing sensible clothing for the weather. Even as Angie thought that, though, the woman slowly shrugged off the coat as though she couldn’t stand its warmth, even as the wind howled and the snow hit the windows hard enough to make numerous clicking sounds. This last woman had a few noticeable wounds, again similar to Megan’s, although Angie could have sworn that they were steaming.

  Kevin and Beth both gaped out the window at her. “Oh my God, what happened to her?” Beth asked. She must have realized the similarity between this lady’s wounds and Megan’s because she turned around looked down at the young woman with obvious dread. “Are we going to be safe in here with her?”

  This was the first time that question had occurred to Angie, and she honestly couldn’t give an answer. With the Z word still hanging around in her mind, she had a vision of Megan standing up when they all had their backs turned and making a buffet of their brains. But Megan did not seem to be in danger anymore. In fact, she almost looked like she could be recovering, just sleeping off a hangover rather than becoming a vector for a deadly reanimating virus.

  Kim stood up and approached Beth, moving too far into Beth’s bubble for comfort. “Don’t you dare do anything to hurt my daughter.”

  Beth held up her hands in an “I surrender” gesture. “I’m not suggesting anything of the kind, Kim.”

  “We’ll keep an eye on her but I hardly think she’s the one we need to worry about just now,” Angie said. “Now is somebody going to help me barricade the door or not?”

  All of the tables were too small to be much deterrent and most of the booths were bolted down to the floor, but one mismatched booth in the corner that they’d added a couple years ago just to get more room for the tourists could be moved if they all worked together. The only people who abstained from helping were Kim, too wrapped up in the drama regarding her daughter, Old Bert, who said his back wouldn’t be able to take it even though Rudy was around the same age and still helping, and Jasmine, who had remembered that she kept a small revolver in her office on the off chance that someone might try to rob the place and went to go load it. One bench from the booth was enough to block the door. The other bench could probably be placed across the other booths to block most of the windows, but Angie wasn’t sure if they should do that yet. Maybe she was wrong about what was going on outside. Hell, logic dictated that she was almost definitely wrong. And if she was, then it would probably be important for them to see whatever might be going on. The windows were a weak spot in their defenses, but for the moment, Angie decided it was a weak spot they needed to keep.

 

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