Dead Bones - Six Pack. The Ultimate Zombie Collection

by Ian Woodhead

  That barn was where the local dead congregated; he didn’t have a clue why they chose that place. It is so strange, when that barn was still relatively intact—before the months of weather transformed it into yet another ruined structure—the dead stayed away.

  The weather had not caused that much damage to the dead people; those things appeared to be resilient, and apart from drying out in the hot sun and stinking like road-kill during the wet weather, the dread they imposed was still as strong as ever.

  “Oh, sugar lumps,” he muttered.

  They were certainly moving now. The dead people might now resemble shuffling strips of jerky and their movement may have slowed in the year since the outbreak, but it did not make them any less dangerous.

  Those fly blown things were now heading towards the house. It wasn't Dominic they were after; their senses were not that keen. He gazed through the window and into the vegetable plot directly outside the house. The nineteen-year-old girl stood at the edge of the plot, bending over, digging out this season’s crop of potatoes.

  Dominic looked at her bare shapely legs, noticing just how much of her body he could make out through the girl’s thin blouse. With her head facing the other way, Clarisse Bentley was oblivious to the unwanted attention that her movement and scent was causing. She just carried on thrusting the garden fork deep into the loose soil.

  “Oh no!” he gasped. “This is going to be a disaster.” Dominic dropped his damp cloth into the sink and rushed out of the house. “Clarisse!” he cried. “Oh my heavens.”

  The young woman jumped back, the garden fork slipping from her fingers. She pushed a dirt-streaked hand through her straggly blond hair and glared at him.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, you dumb pansy. Are you trying to stop my heart?” Clarisse then spun around and caught sight of the two dead bodies shambling towards them. She giggled.

  “Hey, look at that, Dominic. Your two dead boyfriends have shown up.”

  He watched them stop at the thick steel fence that surrounded their community. Dominic watched them for a moment before he spun around and returned the girl’s glare. Oh my, just how mad was she?

  “Clarisse,” he said. “Just how many times have I asked you to be gentle with the crops? You are way too rough; we just cannot afford to have dozens of fork holes in the potatoes.”

  He then gingerly took a step back towards the safety of the kitchen door when he saw her expression darken. Oh, sugar. Like the fool he was, Dominic had done it once again, he had overstepped that invisible line.

  “You’d just better calm your girly voice down. I am doing you a bloody favour here, you squeaky little bender. For fuck’s sake, do you not think I’ve got better stuff to do than this shit?” she screamed.

  He tore his eyes away from this mentally unstable, volatile teenager, watching in horror as the barn residents began their journey towards the fence. “Clarisse, will you please lower your blinking voice!”

  Before the girl launched into another outburst of homophobic digs, Dominic pointed at the fence. “Just look at how excitable your silly voice is making them. The adjustments officers are bound to notice all the activity.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about them.”

  “I sure do,” he replied. Dominic stepped over the carrot bed. He picked up the fork and leaned it against the house wall. “We are supposed to be pair bonded, remember? They’ll report back to the magistrate, Clarisse. They’ll throw me out, that I do know.” Dominic placed his hand into hers. “You know what will happen to you if they realise what you are.”

  She angrily wiped her tears away and nodded. “Fucking hell, Dominic, I’m such a stupid little tart.” Clarisse threw her hands around his neck. “You are the kindest, sweetest man I have ever met, and I treat you like dog shit.”

  He stroked her hair, watching the dead things slow down. Some of them closest to the barn were already turning to face their original position. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. It’s just the taint that's messing with your head.”

  She giggled, “I’ve always had a bit of a temper though. This stuff in me just makes it worse at times, you know?” Clarisse moved out of Dominic’s embrace. “Please don’t get too upset with me calling you all those nasty names. I don’t mean any of it.”

  He sighed and smiled back at the girl, trying to keep his grin in place. He just wanted to go back inside to finish the housework. Her patronising tone was beginning to grate a little. Deep down, he knew that this girl did mean some of her insults. She may have the body of a sex goddess but he suspected that her IQ was lower than her bust measurements.

  “If you want, I could go down on you, Dominic.” Clarisse placed her hand on his crotch. “I know you really dig blokes, but I could always put my hair in a baseball cap, draw on a pretend moustache and lower my voice.” She squeezed his balls. “Believe me; I will make you cum, Dominic.”

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, how did he get into this mess? He was just waiting for her to whip out a couple of blowjob proficiently certificates from out of her bum. “It’s okay,” he spluttered. “Honestly, I’m fine.”

  She abruptly let him go, stormed over to the front of the house and snatched up the garden fork.

  “Don’t be mad?”

  Clarisse closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’d better go back inside, Dom. I still have these potatoes to dig out. I don’t want you to worry your little head. I promise to be careful.”

  Dominic took his time walking back to the door, not wanting to give that woman the impression that he was desperate to get away from her. All Dominic wanted to do was to run into the house, fly upstairs and hide in his bedroom for the next few days.

  He silently ordered his racing heart to stop being so naughty and just to prove that he wasn’t going to allow that girl to get the better of him, Dominic stopped walking and looked over at the fence. The two dead people had not yet turned away; they just stood there, back in the statue pose, staring at Dominic.

  Those stares so unnerved him, why had they targeted Dominic? He glanced over his shoulder and saw Clarisse had gone back to her digging. It didn’t make any sense. Her movement should be attracting their attention. He shivered and hurried to the door, giving the woman one final glance.

  Dominic knew her well enough now to know that Clarisse would have forgotten all about their little incident, or at least pushed it to the back of her mind, unaware that once again she had turned him into a giant bag of nerves.

  He shut the door once inside and padded through the kitchen, not wanting to look out of that window and into the plot. His pretend wife would no doubt be systematically ruining everything with her careless management.

  “I so do need a super strong drink,” he said, walking into the living room. He would so need to calm his nerves. He and Clarisse were due to participate in the community’s weekly self-defence class tonight.

  “Perhaps just a tiny sip of my brandy will hit the spot,” he said, heading towards the drinks cabinet. He took out his brandy bottle and poured himself a generous double whilst looking at the collection of weapons hanging on the wall.

  It was compulsory for all occupied homes to keep at least two weapons in each room and despite hating the very idea of using one of these loathsome things, he wasn’t going to tempt fate by breaking the law. Dominic smiled, wondering how the magistrate would react if the big fat man found out that Dominic had used all the implements of Satan and turned them into a rather attractive feature for his living room.

  Dominic took a tiny sip of Brandy, feeling the stuff burn down his throat. He picked up the glass and carried it over to the display, his eyes gravitating to the weapon in the centre.

  He brushed the tips of his fingers down the smooth wooden shaft, taking his time. Dominic put the glass down and lifted the weapon off the wall. This was the standard tool for all adjustment officers. The design varied from officer to officer, but the concept didn’t change too much.

  It was a pick axe’s shaft with a
three-inch steel spike protruding from the bottom and two more spikes stood at right angles at the top. He would be taking this with him tonight. It had surprised Dominic just how skilled he had become with this.

  “You had a good teacher,” he whispered, licking his lips. He had fallen for the main adjustment officer who took the classes, as soon as Dominic clapped eyes on the man. David Fuller was just so super fit and easy on the eyes.

  “Now, if it had been you who were offering to go down on me, David,” the man shuddered and felt a tingle in his loins. “Oh yes, there’d be no need to draw a moustache on your lovely face.”

  The weapon in his hands had once belonged to David. He had told Dominic that he was willing to gift it to him because he felt Dominic had natural rhythm. Had the present being a token of respect or, maybe it meant something else?

  Dominic grabbed the glass and emptied the contents, trying not to choke. The chance that David would honestly return Dominic’s love was from slim to none. It was about time that he stopped all this nonsense and woke up to reality.

  He gave him the weapon because David was a decent bloke; it was as simple as that. Besides, the man already had a partner. A gorgeous looking woman called, Susan. They were a perfect couple and obviously in love.”

  “You have a beautiful partner as well, Dominic, it means nothing.”

  He sighed, then wandered over to the main window and gazed out onto the community’s main street. He needed to forget about his stupid crush and his stupid pretend wife just for a few moments. Dominic had not had it that badly; he was alive, for a start and relatively safe now. He had certainly landed on his feet here. His cooking skills had proven very valuable and he had been justly rewarded, this was a desirable part of the town.

  If, god forbid, the dead did manage to get into the community or an infection occurred, he would be very safe here. There may be a fence between his garden and the outside but that barrier was triple layered and patrolled regularly.

  In some areas of the town, they only had homemade wooden barriers or overturned cars to separate them from the hungry dead. He looked down at his weapon. The unfortunate residents in that part of town were well versed in the use of their weapons. He’d yet to use this on one of those dead things.

  Most of the important buildings were on his street. Directly opposite stood the community hall. From his window, he could still make out the faded lettering from the Methodist church behind the new sign.

  The courthouse was right next to the hall, with the execution wall and the gallows right in front of the courthouse’s main door. It had been a few weeks since that wall last had a convict against it, but the gallows still contained the decomposing corpse of the last tainted human that the officers had flushed out. He had been one of the new arrivals and made the stupid mistake of announcing his presence to all and sundry. Dominic had heard from Clarisse, who had attended the hanging, that the man’s name was Oliver and it had taken three officers to subdue him.

  They were due to be removing the body in a couple of days, as soon as the next pit was almost full.

  The adjustment officers patrolled the community perimeter, taking out stray dead. They dug the pits and filled them with the bodies of the dead and the tainted. They were due to clear the area behind Dominic’s house soon. He could not wait to be able to say goodbye to the creepy corpse that kept staring at him from the gallows. He could swear at times that the eyeless sockets in that decomposed skull still had sight and that they were keeping watch on him and his sham of a "marriage".

  He had to walk past the gallows every day, but he had never had the courage to ask Clarisse for her thoughts about the community’s treatment of the tainted. She would surely hang if discovered. The magistrate had never had a problem killing tainted women before.

  The activity outside the courthouse brought him out of his daze. At least a dozen officers ran out of the building. He tried to work out what was happening, but for the life of him, he could not.

  The sound of somebody screaming brought him out of his second daze in less than two minutes. It was Clarisse. He ran to the kitchen, looking through the window. His hand involuntarily went to his mouth.

  "Oh my heavens!" he exclaimed when he saw those two dead climbing the fence.

  Chapter Two

  Survival demands Abstinence. Abbot Moses took his dark blue eyes away from the wooden carved slogan connected to the top of his door. He pushed his fingers through his long blonde hair and turned to look through his window. The silent bell tower beyond the perimeter had once again attracted the damned. It had been months since the bell rung, yet the building still attracted the moving dead. Their numbers grew daily.

  It seemed to be the only constant left in this terrifying new world. He knew that most of the climbers had joined the ranks of the damned and now the hunters had realised their inevitable fate.

  Moses turned away from the window. “No, not all of them,” he muttered. His timely intervention had saved just a handful of their kind. Even after all these months, he still could not comprehend what sort of God would allow their only source of food to slowly poison them.

  “A God with a sick sense of morality,” he growled. The Abbot looked over at his half empty bowl of nuts and berries and the untouched glass containing congealing dog blood sat on his table. He clamped down the urge to rush over and smash his furniture to matchwood.

  He closed his eyes and attempted to get a grip on his violent emotions. Moses started his meditation techniques, knowing that he had to calm his thoughts before his anger and frustration rippled out and infected the rest of his brother’s minds. Moses was the glue that bound the flock together. If he came unstuck, their kind would just whither on the vine.

  The meditation clearly was not working. He snapped open his eyes and looked over at the glass. Moses needed to drink but the contents just turned his stomach. He held his arm out in front of him, seeing that his shaking was clearly visible.

  “I don’t want animal swill,” he gasped. “I need my supplements.” Moses was not due for another week, but this was an emergency.

  He hurried over to his wooden bed, grasped the purple cord hanging from the ceiling, and shakily tugged on it once. He then attempted to compose his vicious feelings as he waited.

  Moses had managed to attain a modicum of equilibrium before he heard a gentle tap against his door.

  “Come in,” he shouted.

  The door opened to reveal the pale face of Brother Cain, an acolyte who recently initiated into the order. Moses felt that he had been moderately successful with his training. The boy had needed the minimum of discipline.

  “Seek out Brother Jacob and tell him to begin preparations.”

  The boy nodded and shut the door behind him.

  Survival demanded abstinence, but their kind needed to do more than just survive. Stopping his brothers from consuming the forbidden flesh had halted their imminent destruction, but they still only barely existed.

  “We might as well be dead.”

  Because of the abstinence, the brothers were now no better than the damned. Nuts, berries, and whatever meat they could catch only went so far. Moses kept his strength and his wits only due to the supplements, but he dare not share, no matter how much he longed for all the brothers to regain their former potency. If his supply dried up then he would just degrade like the rest of his flock.

  Moses could not wait any longer. He hurried across the room, opened his door and stepped out into the cool stone corridor. The acrid smell of thick smoke from the burning wax candles choked his throat.

  He rarely ventured from the study, this fact evident by the startled faces of two approaching brothers. They both stopped and dipped their heads as a mark of respect. Moses nodded back and then frowned, sensing the second Brother was not so humbled by the Abbot’s presence.

  Moses stepped up to him, blocking his path.

  “Brother Enoch. I can feel doubt within your soul.” He pulled the man’s cowl back and loo
ked into his pale blue eyes. “There’s more than just that. I also sense ridicule and perhaps scorn for your Abbot?”

  An involuntary gasp escaped from the Brother stood beside him.

  “Brother Joshua,” he said, addressing the other man. “Please remind Brother Enoch of our first creed.”

  “I know all that,” snapped Brother Enoch. “Survival demands abstinence.”

  The Abbot smiled, “You do know, but it is apparent that our creed serves no relevance in your life.”

  The arrogant ex-hunter was their latest recruit. He’d only been with the order for a couple of weeks. This one had been discovered running down a human female in an underground carpark. The other brothers had dealt with the human and Enoch had gone wild, believing the brothers were about to steal his food. The hunter had then howled like a trapped wolf when the brother snapped the human’s neck and threw the corpse over the balcony, without even tasting the human.

  “Hold out your arm, Brother Enoch, and show me your flesh.” The strong sense of fear whirled through him like a force gale. Unlike the other brothers, his new diet had yet to dull his mind and his senses.

  The strong emotion took Moses by surprise, it was most exhilarating. Moses even felt the beginnings of an erection forming.

  “I see some of your confidence wilting, my friend,” he whispered, grabbing Enoch’s arm.

  Moses took out a long serrated knife from his belt. “How long do you think you’ll survive if I cut you? Even now, after two weeks, I can smell the stench of the forbidden flesh oozing from your pores. It will take some time before our medications cleanse your body.” He rested the blade on the shaking man’s skin. “I suspect that you may survive, but not for long.”

  “No, please,” whispered Enoch. “Please don’t cut me.”

  Moses lifted his own arm. “Believe the creed,” he said, drawing the knife along his own arm. Moses felt the long forgotten emotion of desire and lust push through Brother Joshua’s thick bovine mind.