“Guy’s nuttier than squirrel turds,” whispered Bruce.
“Leave him alone,” said Heather. “He’s just old.”
“And annoying,” said Geoff, lighting a small string of Black Cat fireworks. As the fuse lit, Geoff yelled out, “Hey, Nutty Professor, here’s to the soldiers!”
Before his friends could stop him, Geoff tossed the firecrackers at the old man. The old man gasped as the fireworks crackled on the ground around him. Cringing, he got back on his bike and rode away.
“Respect the soldiers, you little bastards. Respect the soldiers,” he said as he disappeared down the road.
It wasn’t quite like watching a guy in an old western dance around the ground as a villain was shooting at his feet, but it was still pretty funny.
As the others laughed, Heather snapped, “Geoff, that was mean.” She hit his arm, but struggled to contain a chuckle of her own.
“You thought it was funny,” said Geoff.
“It was funny,” said Bruce.
“He’s always talking religion,” said Bruce. “So, like my mom says, if he was mad at us, he should forgive us.”
“I forgive you,” said Belinda, walking up to her man. Her hands held in a pantomime of religious fervour, she added, “I forgive you.”
The five laughed again and dug out more fireworks to set off.
As the friends laughed, Trevor and Todd were plotting against them.
“Hey, check it out,” said Trevor, indicating Deputy Jacobs at the Whataburger. “It’s the Sheriff.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Todd said, lowering his beer. “If he sees us drinking, we’re done for.”
“Don’t worry, it’s Deputy Jacobs,” said Trevor. “He’s my brother-in-law remember. He owes me a favour, too.” Trevor finished his beer and threw the empty can into the back seat before driving to the restaurant. He pulled into the parking lot and pulled up right beside the deputy’s vehicle. “Watch,” said Trevor, stepping out of the car and walking to his lawman-in-law.
In the car, Deputy Jacobs was eating a triple-cheeseburger as Trevor knocked on the window. Diced onions and a dribble of sauce had fallen onto his distended belly, and the deputy made no effort to wipe them off as he rolled down the window.
“Trevor,” said the deputy, as he chewed. “What are you up to?”
“Well, brother, I just wanted to report some lawbreakers to you.”
The deputy stuffed several French fries into his mouth, before saying, “What do you got?” A gruesome blend of bread, melded with ketchup, fries and meat sloshed around his mouth as he spoke. Mustard oozed down his chin.
“There’s a group of kids popping fireworks just two blocks down. There’s a restriction on using fireworks in the city limits, right?”
“That’s right.” A small piece of lettuce dangled on his moustache.
As if on cue, a Roman candle lit up the sky, over where Trevor was indicating.
“Well, as you can see,” said Trevor, smiling and showing off his crooked teeth, “those kids are clearly flouting the law.”
Deputy Jacobs took another big bite of the burger and said, “I’ll be right over there, Trev. Thanks for the tip.”
“Anything for my brother,” said Trevor, giving a thumbs up.
The deputy cocked his eyebrow and added, “Have you been drinking?”
“Brother,” said Trevor, slyly. “I don’t drink and drive.”
Trevor returned to the Mustang and cracked open another Natural Light, toasting his in-law. Todd shrugged and returned the toast as they pulled out of the lot.
Deputy Jacobs finished off his burger and fries. He wasn’t in any hurry.
“Man, those were awesome,” said Bruce, craning his neck to stare up into the clear evening sky.
“We got the heavy duty Roman Candles,” said Heather, rummaging in the bag.
“And we haven’t even pulled out the mortars yet,” said Belinda, smiling.
“Ya’ll got mortars?” asked Geoff. “I want to light one of those suckers.”
“We have to finish with the mortars,” said Lawrence. “Always go with the big finish last.”
“True, true,” said Belinda. With a wink, she added, “Right, Bruce? Big finish?”
Bruce smiled. “Oh, yeah. Big finish.”
“You guys are so gross,” said Heather, laughing.
“Big explosion, right Bruce.”
Bruce blushed. “Oh, yeah.”
“You guys are nasty,” said Lawrence.
They set off another series of fireworks, ‘ooh-ing’ and ‘ahh-ing’ at each display.
Another car pulled up at the mouth of the street. At first, they ignored it. But when the overhead red and blue lights flashed, they realised who it was.
“We are just outside the city limits, aren’t we?” asked Geoff.
“Err, not quite,” said Belinda, cringing. “I think it’s the next block over.”
The police car was heading right for them.
“Quick,” said Belinda. “Into my house.”
The five friends grabbed the remaining fireworks and ran into Belinda’s house. They slammed the door as the car reached the house.
“My mom’s coming back soon, so we can’t stay here. Out the back,” said Belinda. They quickly followed her out the back door and into the back yard.
“What now?” asked Lawrence.
“Just follow me,” she said, walking through the back gate into an adjacent alley. Beside the alley was a crude barrier that they bypassed to head into a dry concrete waterway. They followed Belinda under a nearby bridge.
They waited expectantly, awaiting their pursuer.
“So,” said Heather, “what are we doing here?”
“Let’s give panzon a little time to lose interest, eh?” said Belinda. “Then let’s go to the cemetery and pop more fireworks.”
“Oh, no,” said Heather, shaking her head vehemently. “I hate that place! What with all those dead people.”
“They’re dead, Heather,” said Lawrence with a sigh. “They died in wars a long time ago.”
“In wars?” asked Heather.
“It’s the military cemetery, not the public one. They’re not going to bother us.”
“Dead soldiers tell no tales,” said Geoff with a chuckle. “I wonder if they still have their weapons.”
“Shut up,” said Belinda, rolling her eyes. “They don’t bury soldiers with their weapons.”
“I suppose a military cemetery would be the perfect place to shoot more fireworks, though,” conceded Heather.
“It’s outside the city limits, too,” said Bruce.
“Just let this marinate,” said Belinda. “We’ll head in and have some fun in just a few. Tubby shouldn’t be too long.”
The five friends spent the next few minutes talking about school and gossip, until Belinda decided that it was time to go.
By the time they set off out of the dry waterway, full darkness had set in. A half moon shone high in the night sky.
As they walked, Lawrence said, “Hey, did you guys hear the rumour that there’s a secret military base under the cemetery?”
“What?” said Geoff, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” Lawrence continued. “The government sponsored renovations on the cemetery in the early ’80s. There was loads of tunnelling – they sealed off the whole area. It took like three years before the construction crews left.”
“It’s true,” said Bruce as the five entered the cemetery. “My dad told me about it once.”
“I heard there was a UFO base under it,” said Belinda.
“It was that they made them, not an actual base,” said Lawrence. “And I heard it, too. They might be hiding one.”
“Or two,” said Belinda.
They took the main road through the five acre cemetery. Hundreds of headstones were interspersed with groomed lawns and mature trees. They decided to head to the rear of the cemetery where they had less chance of being disturbed.
&
nbsp; As the kids began setting up their fireworks, Trevor and Todd waited in their car a hundred yards from the entrance to the cemetery. When the coast was clear, snuck up to the iron gates and drew them closed.
“Gimme the chain,” said Trevor, snatching it from Todd. It was a simple bike security chain, but it would do the trick.
As Trevor locked it, they both sniggered.
“This is going to be great,” said Trevor, heading back to the car.
“Hell yeah,” said Todd. “I’m gonna make those little pricks beg.”
They returned to the Mustang and cracked open two more beers. They could see the fireworks in the distance, dazzling in the black sky.
The friends might have wildly speculated what was below them, and, although there were not UFOs under the cemetery, there was a government-sponsored biological weapons laboratory. No one knows what caused the explosion, but the consequences were devastating.
A deadly experimental bio-toxin filtered up through the ground, through coffins, and to their decaying inhabitants. There were hundreds of graves in the vicinity of the blast.
The ground had shuddered under the group’s feet. They all fell silent, glancing nervously at each other.
“Did you feel that?” asked Heather, hoping that it was just her imagination.
“Yeah,” said Geoff. “Like the ground moved, right?”
The others nodded in agreement and strained their ears, listening for anything out of the ordinary. The cemetery was bathed in silence.
“What do you think?” asked Lawrence to no one in particular.
“Earthquake?” Belinda suggested.
Heather laughed nervously. “Yeah, that’s it. Just a little tremor.”
Shrugging, Geoff said, “Forget it. Let’s get some more fireworks.”
Glad for the distraction, they continued with their firework display. As they set off another salvo, a new scent filled the air that wasn’t sulphurous.
“Who farted?” said Geoff, wafting a hand in front of his nose.
“I did,” said Bruce, chuckling.
“Cochino,” said Belinda, cringing.
Frowning, Heather said, “I smell it, too.”
“Whoever smelt it, dealt it,” laughed Geoff.
“Forget that,” said Belinda, lighting a Bouncing Betty. “Check this out.”
As the fuse sparked to life, she tossed it into the air. It blazed in a circle, gliding. The spark of the firecracker spun the firework in the air before gliding down to the ground where it exploded.
As it exploded another underground tremor rocked the cemetery.
Holding onto a tree, Geoff said, “Holy crap! What did you light?”
“Just a Bouncing Betty,” said Belinda, holding onto Bruce’s arm.
“Check it out, guys,” said Heather. “There’s, like, fumes coming out of the ground.”
As they looked on, delicate plumes of green gas danced into the air, swirling across the grass and between headstones.
“What … is that?” asked Heather.
“Ghosts?” said Geoff and managed a nervous snort.
“Shut up, stupid,” snapped Bruce.
“Looks like some kind of gas,” said Belinda. “Did the firecracker light it?”
“Light my gas,” said Geoff, but he was no longer laughing.
“Hey,” said Lawrence. “Someone’s over there.”
They all turned to look where Lawrence was pointing. Emerging out of the darkness was what appeared to be a US Marine in dress blues. The soldier’s stark white hat was unmistakeable.
“Hey, Jarhead!” yelled Geoff.
“Shhh,” said Heather. “Don’t make him mad.”
“C’mon,” said Bruce. “It’s the Fourth of July, after all. We’re supposed to respect our soldiers.”
“OK, Nutty Professor,” said Belinda. “We’re sorry.”
“Hey,” said Heather. “It’s another one,” she said, pointing.
They all turned to look. It was true. Another figure, but this one resembling a Doughboy from World War I, was ambling towards them.
“OK …” muttered Belinda. “What’s going on here?”
“Relax,” said Bruce, rubbing her back. “I’ll say something.”
“Wait,” hissed Geoff. “Can you hear that?”
They fell silent. Muffled voices, scraping and banging noises filled the air.
“This is not cool,” said Bruce as Belinda clutched his arm.
“What is going on here, guys?” asked Lawrence, pointing to three more figures, also clad in military regalia of different eras.
As they gawped at the three new figures, the ground under their feet began to shift and move.
“Oh, shit,” Geoff spat, staggering backwards.
“They’re rising!” yelled Lawrence. “The dead are … rising!”
“Is this … for real?” asked Heather, tears brimming in her eyes.
“I think it might be,” said Lawrence, backing away.
“These things can’t be coming for Saturday morning cartoons,” spat Bruce. “This is not good!”
Gathering his senses, Geoff said, “Stay calm, guys. Stick together.”
Their mounting terror was almost palpable.
“What do we do?” asked Heather, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Light something,” said Geoff suggested. “Throw it at them!”
Everyone scrambled for fireworks; mortars, Roman candles, bottle-rockets. Anything they could get their hands on.
Trembling, they huddled together.
“Wait,” said Lawrence. “Won’t these ignite the gas?”
“He’s right,” agreed Heather. “This place is going to light up.”
They looked around again. The Doughboy and the Marine were closest, but at least a dozen more figures were closing in.
“And the Rocket’s Red Glare,” said Geoff, lighting his Roman Candle.
Everyone else followed suit.
“Here goes nothing,” said Bruce and held his breath.
Geoff lobbed his at the Doughboy as the rest tossed their respective fireworks into the approaching crowd.
Clouds of gas ignited in rapid flashing detonations that scorched grass and headstones. Another blast rattled the ground again, signalling fresh explosions beneath them.
Screaming, Bruce and Belinda frantically patted each other as sparks had ignited their clothes. Their friends help, quickly extinguishing the flames. Several of the shambling creatures had also been set alight, but they made no attempt to douse them.
Doughboy reached out for Geoff, moaning softly. Flinching, Geoff jabbed his Super-Deluxe Roman Candle into its open mouth as it began to shoot its fiery load. Flames shot down the creature’s throat, making its paper-thin skin appear glowing and translucent. Suddenly, belching flames tore out of its belly and engulfed the whole creature.
Geoff backed away, uttering, “Awesome …”
The rest of the fireworks began exploding and whizzing in all directions, striking the undead and bursting into flames. A bottle-rocket struck a World War II paratrooper in the eye, a tail of sparking flames shooting out of the socket.
They fired off more and more, but their stocks were quickly dwindling and more and more creatures were appearing to replace those who sizzled and crackled on the ground.
Todd and Trevor were standing at the gates, beers in hands, staring at the dazzling light display.
“Damn,” said Todd. “Those guys are really setting them off.”
“No shit,” agreed Trevor, sipping his beer.
“This isn’t working!” cried Heather. “There’s too many of them!”
Dozens of creatures were pressing in from all sides.
“We’ve got enough for one more, guys, and then we make a break for the front gate,” said Geoff.
The five lit another round of fireworks and threw them as grasping hands broke through the grass at their feet. Their shrieks mixed with the explosions from the fireworks.
“Let�
��s go!” said Geoff, leading his friends in the direction of the front gate. The others followed without hesitation. The creatures were moving slowly enough for them to weave through, but their numbers were growing fast.
Standing at the gates, Todd and Trevor stood and gazed across the cemetery.
“Check it out,” said Trevor. “Here they come.”
“Who are all those other people?” asked Todd, squinting.
“Probably more fags with fireworks.”
“Why are they running?” asked Todd.
Concentrating on the five fleeing friends, they failed to notice the shifting ground at graves nearest to them.
The group of friends reached the gate, gasping for air. Todd and Trevor began pointing and laughing.
“What now, faggots?” Trevor managed between sniggers.
“See, Belinda,” shouted Todd. “If you were with me, you’d be on this side.”
“Let us out!” Belinda yelled.
“Open the gate!” Heather chorused.
The two boys’ laughter intensified, Todd clutching his stomach.
“You and the rest of those freaks will just have to wait,” said Trevor.
“C’mon, beg,” said Todd. “Beg and we might let you out.”
“Listen, Trevor, you asshole,” snapped Geoff. “Those aren’t people! They’re dead!”
“What have you been smoking?” said Todd, but a troubled frown marred his features as he glanced back at the approaching crowd. “So they’re zombies!” He laughed again, but it sounded hollow.
“What would soldiers be …” Trevor stopped in the middle of the sentence.
Shambling towards the five trapped friends, he could see a sailor in a dirty and moth-eaten blue shirt and denim bell-bottoms. Its flesh had almost completely rotted away, leaving bones peaking out here and there. A soldier nearby, in green fatigues, was dragging a foot behind him that was hanging on by slivers of rotting flesh. In the graves nearby, others were rising through the ground, clods of soil falling from their dead grey faces.
Holiday of the Dead Page 22