Dead Bones - Six Pack. The Ultimate Zombie Collection

by Ian Woodhead

  That Dennis looked like just the person who’d flirt with an expensive whore like her. She would be very expensive too, these apartments cost a fortune to rent and the slag had two of them. Heaven knows what foul deeds were committed in that other one.

  It made logical sense to start with Dennis’s wife first. It would be hard work in trying to make that woman see the light. Linda’s first words would cut deep like a razor. The woman would of course respond with hurtful accusations of her own and build her wall of denial ever higher. Linda would just have to be patient and understanding with the woman, perhaps with the support of the woman’s minister, together they could cut through the fog of deceit. Linda smiled, once one of them was on her side then others were bound to follow.

  She suddenly realised that no food had passed her lips since Marcus made her consume that bowl of tomato soup last night. Her approach to food had long since changed since her mother left her. She recalled the times when the preparation of meals and eating had taken up a large amount of her time. For some time she just hadn’t cared about eating, her work was far more important. Now, her stomach felt like an empty cavern; finding resolve had given Linda back an appetite.

  “I do believe that a couple of sandwiches will take away that nagging pain.”

  Humming to herself, she padded into the kitchen; she would have something a little more filling once she’d spoken to the woman. As she took out four slices of bread, Linda heard the sound of a door slamming. She dropped the bread on the counter and hurried over to her view on the world.

  The door across from her apartment stood wide open. The Kershaw’s lived there. They were both pleasant to speak to and always polite to her. She forgot what they both did for a living. Linda had heard more than a few arguments coming from that apartment, it appeared that the husband had quite a temper, but his wife was nothing like the woman whom Linda intended to visit. Despite the husband’s imposing size, she gave as good as she took.

  The room beyond the door was a total mess. She saw smashed furniture, broken glass, and what looked like a tin of red gloss paint splashed everywhere. It looked to her that the poor couple’s apartment had been burgled, and she shook her head. She’d warned Marcus that this would happen one day; no doubt it would have been a gang of ruffians from that estate.

  She considered going across to offer council but after looking again, she shook her head. Linda saw a wallet lying on the floor, and even from where she was, Linda saw the notes. No burglar would leave that behind. It was more likely that their latest argument had reached the throwing objects at each otherf stage. Either that or the man had left her to go to the bar and she’d had a temper tantrum.

  That casual thought unlocked an earlier memory; that’s what Marcus was doing. It all came back to her now. The TV had stopped working, so he stormed out like a sulky teenager, saying he was going to the bar. She smiled, pleased that she’d remembered where he’d gone.

  Linda padded back into the kitchen to continue her quest to fill her stomach. She opened the fridge door and took out the butter, noting that Marcus had not bought the brand she preferred and opted for the value brand instead. As far as she was concerned, that was the final straw that broke the camel’s back. He’d have to go. There was no way she could spread this foul grease on the bread.

  Her stomach would just have to wait; she’d wasted enough time as it was. Linda left the kitchen and hurried across the living room.

  “I’ve chosen the correct path, I know I have.” Linda looked up towards the ceiling. “I’ll carry on your work mother, you can be sure of that.”

  She remembered her mother sitting her down and explaining that Linda’s great work could only begin once her mother had finally passed on. When God finally decided that her time on earth was at an end, she’d be looking down from heaven at all times to ensure that Linda was doing God’s work. Her mother had then gazed up and told Linda that her grandmother was up there in heaven looking down.

  Linda pulled open the apartment door. Of course, this was the correct path; her mother had taught her well. She padded along the corridor, noting an unpleasant smell that lingered in the air. It reminded her of raw liver for some reason. She reached the woman’s door, composed herself, then knocked three times.

  She waited patiently, looking back towards her door. Linda felt like she was being observed, and it was a most peculiar feeling; she could have laughed at the irony if the feeling wasn’t so unpleasant.

  “Come on,” she muttered. The woman had to be in there, Linda hadn’t seen her leave.

  “Hello, Mrs. Knowles? This is Linda from two doors up. Are you okay in there?” There was still no answer. She looked up to ask her mother for guidance. “I need to talk to you, Mrs. Knowles. Will you come to the door, please?”

  She knocked one more time then placed her hand upon the door handle. Her mother would approve of taking such bold action, and besides, the woman had left her with no other option. Unlike the front door and the lifts, all the apartment doors used old fashioned keys. She prayed for a large helping of good luck and then turned the handle.

  “Thank you, mother,” she whispered as the door swung open.

  “Hello? Are you alright?”

  Linda entered the living room; she looked around, seeing no sign of the man’s wife. Her eyes stopped at the sight of a large framed picture of the baby Jesus hanging n the front wall. She smiled; the same picture hung over her mother’s bed when Linda was a child. This living room was obviously the domain of the wife. There was no flat screen TV’s, no discarded coffee cup with football slogans around the edge, and definitely no crushed beer cans.

  She was even more determined to expose the husband. The wife was obviously a good Christian, just like Linda. That wicked little man didn’t deserve to have such a warm a caring woman looking after him.

  “Could she be asleep?” That would explain why she hadn’t heard Linda’s calls. The woman wasn’t in the kitchen, the door was open, and from where she stood, she saw nobody in there.

  As she placed her hands on the bedroom door, and Linda heard a low moan escape from the other side.

  “Mrs. Knowles?”

  The noise intensified. Oh lord! The poor woman must have fallen. Linda looked down and saw a plastic packet for a washing line and next to it was a pair of scissors. Her stomach dropped when she realised that the wife must have already found out about his evil double life. Dennis must have responded with beating her then tying her up.

  “Don’t you worry,” she shouted. “I’ll save you.”

  Linda picked up the scissors and pushed through the door. What she saw on the bed shocked her to the core.

  “My lord!” she whispered. “How could that man be so cruel?”

  That monster had put her on the bed face down, with her hands tied around her back; it’s a wonder that the poor woman hadn’t suffocated. Linda grabbed her hand.

  “Oh, you poor soul, your hands are freezing cold. Don’t you worry, I’ll soon get you out of this.”

  Linda set to the task of cutting through the bonds, taking extreme care not to slice through her skin. When the last piece fell away, Linda rolled her over.

  The woman on the bed held up both her arms. Linda laughed.

  “Yes, praise Jesus!”

  The woman’s left hand then grabbed Linda’s arm.

  “What? What are you doing?” it felt like her arm was in a cold metal vice. “Get off me!”

  The woman then sat up and sunk her teeth deep into Linda’s wrist. She screamed out in agony. Linda then remembered the scissors in her other hand, and she blindly swung then down.

  The woman on the bed let her go and fell back down. The scissors had gone through the woman’s eye. Linda’s empathy to the woman had vanished. She clamped her hand over the wound and staggered out of the room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The apartment door swung inward and Alex gazed in appreciation at the sight of Vincent Hutchinson’s naked, muscular torso, glistening
in sweat. She looked into his shining eyes. “Have you been working out?”

  “It’s here,” he said, breathlessly. “The Reckoning has finally arrived, Mistress. Please tell me that it’s so.”

  She nodded. “You still haven’t answered my first question, Vincent. Have you been to the gym?” Alex felt her crotch moisten when he shuddered and looked down at his feet.

  Vincent has always been her favourite. Ignoring her own rule of treating all her followers as equal as the next man was bordering on the hypocritical, but she just couldn’t help herself. Despite his huge size, Vincent was a tender lover. He was bright, articulate, but most of all, he was her most devout disciple. Alex had little doubt that if she handed him a blade and ordered Vincent to take his own life, he would go through the act without hesitation, praising her name as he laying seeping out his life fluid.

  Vincent’s eyes met hers. “No, Mistress. We have discovered something more satisfying.”

  “We?”

  He nodded, “Yes, Christopher is here too. Please, come in.”

  She followed the blonde man into his apartment, curious as to his cryptic meaning. Alex sniffed.

  “I apologise for that, Mistress. We had to use a lot of scented candles to disguise the odour from our other guest.” He grinned, “The air conditioning no longer works.”

  She suddenly stopped, “No further, Vincent. Your attitude is beginning to annoy me. I’m sure you mean well, but your game must cease now.”

  He fell to the floor, “Please, I mean no disrespect.” His behaviour reminded her of Dennis earlier. She expected little games like this from Dennis but not from Vincent, she always considered him not to have the cunning of her little man; probably the reason why she wouldn’t trust Dennis as far as she could throw him.

  He pointed to the spare bedroom. “Our present for you is in there, Mistress.”

  Alex strode past the prone man, eager to get this foolishness over and done this. As she entered the room, her other disciple looked up, his face a thin mask of blood.

  “My mistress!” he gasped.

  They’d captured one of the blighted souls. It strained against the manacles holding its four limbs to the metal bedposts. The fact that it was moving at all was more surprising than seeing one of them in the flesh, so to speak. Her two disciples had been very busy. They’d managed to scrape out the blighted soul’s stomach cavity. Two buckets brimming with blood and offal stood beside the bed. She then noticed the wide blade in Christopher’s hand.

  “Would you mind explaining just what you intended to do with that?”

  Christopher placed the blade on the thing’s arm then pressed down, the metal just sank into the flesh, “Mistress, look at the creature’s face, it doesn’t even register the cut.”

  “These ghoulish things must be the first wave.” Vincent said. He’d gotten off the floor and stood just behind her.

  Alex felt her desire for both of them growing; she took a deep breath and forced it back down, now was not the time.

  “It made sense to find out how they could be defeated.”

  “Your innovation is impressive but I wish you could have waited a little longer for my arrival. This creature before you is not a ghoul, just merely a vessel for our incorporeal colleagues. This is our instrument sent by the almighty to help us purge the heathen.”

  Vincent fell to the floor once more, “Oh, we have done wrong. Please forgive us.”

  Alex watched Christopher, he didn’t seem to be as troubled about offending his mistress. He moved his hand closer to the shackled thing’s mouth. Even from where she stood, Alex heard its teeth clacking shut as it attempted to bite him.

  “Just how do we handle God’s tools if the things keep wanting to eat us?”

  Alex walked into the bedroom. “Is it not a little arrogant to assume that the lord would create special dispensation for us? The lord may have selected a few to remain after the heathen has been wiped of the surface of the globe, but that privilege still has to be earned.”

  As she neared the corpse, a deep groan erupted from the creature. Alex turned and watched, fascinated as it attempted to reach her. She snatched the blade out of Christopher’s hand then slammed it into the creature’s forehead. Its movements abruptly ceased.

  “May you find another heathen to possess,” she whispered. She looked down at the empty chest. “And this time, please be more careful whom you attack.”

  Alex removed the blade from the skull and wiped both sides upon the blood-stained white sheet. “The lord has provided these blighted souls to use against the heathens, but remember, a sickle cuts corn but can also slice the flesh of its owner.” She gave Christopher the knife back. “Go clean up and dress, our calling can be delayed no longer.”

  When they had gone, she leaned over the body. Although she did believe that the blighted souls could not distinguish between the heathen and the chosen, this creature’s reaction to her proximity had been truly frightening.

  She padded over to the window and gazed down onto the street below. Alex watched two blighted souls feasting on the inside of a severed head. A little further down, another one had both its arms around the leg of a panicking heathen. As she watched, the blighted soul bit deep into the ankle.

  Somebody behind her coughed, she turned and saw both men standing side by side, and they had dispensed with their clothes. Vincent smiled, his reverence for his mistress seemingly absent.

  “Did I not say earlier that I won’t tolerate these games? We don’t have time for this. Go do as I bid, we have work to do.”

  Christopher strode towards her, he looked her up and down. His eyes stayed on her breasts for some considerable time. He slowly licked his lips before moving over to the window.

  “I think that The Reckoning is continuing rather well without our help.”

  Alex watched Vincent pull open the top drawer beside his bed. He showed her a pair of handcuffs.

  Christopher faced her, “They don’t need us, and your so called blighted soul on the bed wanted to kill you, Alex.” He laughed, “Now you may accuse me of blasphemy, but I reckon you’re as fucking clueless as the rest of us.”

  She started when he used her name; he’d never called her that before.

  So we both believe that none of those carnivorous human fuck ups need you too.” He licked his lips, “Which means that you’re free tonight.”

  Vincent shook the handcuffs. “We need you, though, mistress—more than ever.”

  Christopher lunged for her. He screamed in rage when she jumped out of his reach. You’re going to do as you’re told,” he growled.

  Alex ran at Vincent and ducked under his grabbing arms, ran into the spare bedroom, and slammed the bolt shut. The woman backed away from the door, and for the first time in her life she didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t fair, they were supposed to worship her. The door shuddered once before bursting open.

  Christopher laughed, “You have no idea just how much fun we three are going to have.”

  She looked at Vincent, pleading with her eyes, surely he knew this was wrong. He put his hand on Christopher’s shoulder. In his other hand, she notice that he’d dropped the handcuffs but found another instrument, a short but thick leather strap. Alex took another step back.

  Both men entered the room, “I think our mistress is a little uneasy in our presence,” said Christopher.

  Vincent nodded, “She needs to be put at ease.”

  Christopher rushed towards her; his speed and agility caught her off guard she fell backwards and cracked her head against the metal bed. As she hit the floor, her hand caught one of the buckets, and it tipped over. A deluge of freezing offal rained on her face. Alex gagged and choked as the stuff flowed down her throat.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dennis couldn’t believe his luck, he honestly felt as if God had given him a second chance.

  He had been chased into this apartment about ten minutes ago. Two demonspawn had almost caught him as he pushed th
rough two doors; the horrible things had been waiting just behind the doors. He didn’t use the baton on them, he still wasn’t too sure if it would work.

  He had no idea who lived in this apartment; Dennis had looked around the place but found nobody in here. He did find a pile of bondage magazines under the bed though. This place must belong to one of the new arrivals; there had been so many over the past few weeks that Dennis had difficulty keeping track of them.

  Dennis opened the door just a little wider. There she was in all her glory, long dark brown curly hair flowing over her slender shoulders. The girl’s chest was what caught Dennis’s eye though, those breasts were just as big as the Mistress’s. Granted, the girl’s face was nothing to write home about though, a little dowdy, mouth too wide, her chin jutted out a little too much. Then again, those imperfections made her so appealing. Unlike that other one whose boyfriend standards seemed to be set at athletic male models, Dennis reckoned that he ought to be in with a chance with this one. With a face like that, the girl ought to be grateful that anyone paid her some attention.

  He gripped the baton tight. Even if she did reject him, he was going to ensure that her body would be pliant; Dennis intended to keep this one. He quietly closed the door.

  His main worry was how to deal with the others in her group, she had three companions; the old couple would pose no problem but the man … Dennis ground his teeth, the man was a definite threat.

  This wasn’t fair, why did there have to be another one? He’d watched the young man in his early thirties leading his little band of survivors along the corridor, banging on every door and shouting through the wood that he was here to help, telling them that he was leading them to safety. Dennis hated heroes and this particular hero would soon have ten thousand volts surging through his testicles. That’ll teach him for being brave and handsome.

  The girl only had a nightdress on, and he so wanted to open the door to have another peek but he’d bide his time. That man was bound to knock on this door too.