In The Season of The Damned (Book One)

by Shannon Allen

  In The Season of The Damned

  Book 1

  Shannon Allen

  Copyright © 2015 Shannon Allen

  All rights reserved.

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  CONTENTS

  Story One: Six Feet Till Sunlight

  Story Two: Witches

  Story Three:the Den

  Story Four: Long Live The Queen

  Story Five: Dead Weight

  Final Story: Candice Grim

  STORY ONE: SIX FEET TILL SUNLIGHT

  I guess the idea of being a mortician first came to my mind at my great-grandmother’s funeral. During that day, I was haggling with the age-old question: Why does it seem churches aren’t ever properly air-conditioned? We sat in the uncomfortable wooden seats and I watched as these mysterious clad men in matching black stood on each side of the coffin. Their hands were folded in unison, their expressions blank. They looked on, staring into the mass of people. There was a detachedness about them through the whole service. I guess in that line, you had to be. They did look a bit creepy, donning garish makeup like performers for their audience.

  I remember walking in to see my grandmother’s body after the service. When I went in, I saw the pallbearers staring into the coffin, and they both turned to me simultaneously and nodded. After that funeral, I found myself increasingly interested in death.

  I wasn’t an animal killer, or anything crazy like that, but I would replay the most grisly scenes from my favorite movies over and over. I did poke at a road kill or two growing up, but I guess that’s normal. That was in high school, and in college I took a course on being a mortician, and the rest was history. Now I worked for Sunny Shines Funeral Home. I create a good-looking death. I now understand the guys at the funeral; it was an art form, and they were performance actors. Every funeral is different, and surprisingly so. Ever wonder what’s in that coffin at a closed casket? I get to see, and I quickly concluded that caskets usually are closed for a good reason. A person who has been burned, for instance, you think the casket being closed just hides how they look, right? It’s for the smell as well; sometimes, fluid runs.

  In the funeral home, all of the workers have that one case, that one story that they cannot talk about. My coworker, Marly Channing, her one story is a kid who was hit by a drunk driver. She was hit so hard that the “I love Mom and Dad” pin she was wearing pressed the words into her skin. That story always chokes up Channing. There’s a bunch of stories like that.

  I think this is the type of job that slowly can drive a person mad. Over the years, I’ve watched as we’ve all gotten a little crazier, which is what I’m doing here in the cemetery at almost 12 AM. I am waiting to meet a guy with a map. You’d be surprised at the items that are stolen in a place like this, but we were going to be doing something none of us ever have done this time: We were going grave robbing.

  As I looked around the cemetery, I felt a bit creeped out. No matter how many times I came here, I could feel heaviness in the air. It always felt like you were being watched. This was one of the parts of the job I didn’t care for. I could get through the rest, as I always thought of it as helping families gain closure, but in the shadows and dark places of the funeral home and cemetery, I’d always have unease.

  At about 12:10, which was later than we agreed, my friend Jose climbed over the gate to the home. “Glad you made it, Jake,” he nodded to me. “Thought you might have said screw it.” He climbed over the gate because none of us carried the keys; those were only given to the groundskeepers. They arrived at 6 AM every morning.

  Happy to finally see Jose, I asked him, “Where are the tools? Do you have the shovel and map?”

  “No,” he said, snappily, “I have the map, but the shovels, Marly and Jason have those.”

  “Well, where are they?” I asked.

  “They should be here any moment!” he bellowed.

  “Do me a favor,” I said, “could you check your cell phone to see if it’s working?”

  He checked. “No, it’s not getting a signal.”

  “I thought as much, mine doesn’t seem to be working either.”

  “Damn, we sure picked a misty night,” he motioned his arms, looking around. “You can’t even see the funeral home from here!”

  “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” I asked.

  “Look, man, think about it. We two have never stolen anything, none of the trinkets people leave, nothing. We’ve had opportunities and always done right, we’re owed something, so what if we take something off of someone who’s dead? I mean, they can’t use it. I’ve seen people steal shoes off of children since I have been here. If everything holds up, this person was buried with pounds of cash, I mean, this is according to the ledger I found.”

  “But Jose, what if there’s nothing in there, or it turns out to be a few necklaces?”

  “Pounds of riches, that’s what it says, let’s at least check it out. Right now, we just wait for Jason and Marly, and then we dig and split the dough. No one will be the wiser.”

  You know those shows, the National Geographic ones about unearthing mummies? Those usually make me a bit uneasy. Disturbing the dead once we have put them to rest? Seeing what the families go through? I looked around the cemetery. At the moment it looked even more foreboding and creepy, but I admit there was a tinge of excitement and “what if?” What if it was pounds of gold?

  Jose and I found two really square headstones that were close by to sit on, and he lit one cigarette as we waited. Just then, we saw the beam of a flashlight. I went to the gate to greet Jason and Marly, but when I had gotten close enough, I noticed they’d also brought Marly’s cousin Tabitha. Tabitha obviously had a crush on me, but she had issues. Jose screamed from behind me, “Didn’t we say we’d just keep this between us few? Who brought her?”

  “I did!” Marly almost spat the words at Jose, looking a little embarrassed. “She’s safe. She’ll get a part of my cut and help with the digging. She overheard us on the phone today. Couldn’t just leave her.”

  Jose looked pissed. “Okay then, you just make sure she keeps her mouth shut.”

  “I’LL DO THAT!” Tabitha yelled back. “I just want my share.”

  “Okay, who has the map?” I asked, ready to get going. “And where the hell are the shovels?”

  “I’ve got the map,” Marly said, after Jose let her take a peek.

  “You were supposed to bring the shovel,” Jose said, growing even more impatient.

  “I left a shovel on the inside before we climbed over,” Jason said, peering toward the gate.

  “Okay, now this is what I’m talking about,” Jose spoke, easing up a little. “I’m just happy you guys thought to bring one,” his voice raised, sounding sarcastic. “One shovel, and six feet. Okay, let’s see if we can read the map. I took it noticing it was a bit crumbly and old. Kinda smells a bit, as well. From the entrance to the grave we’ll be digging, that’s three blocks in past the children’s cemetery.”

  “Okay,” I said, “let’s get going, this place is getting more foggy by the minute.”

  We marched toward our destination. The fog, though not at all comforting, seemed to shield us from any prying eyes. As we walked further away from the nearby street that l
ed past the cemetery, a cool wind bounced the trees about mightily. The wind almost sounded like chanting, which added to the uneasiness, and the branches swaying created a creepy movement. They looked like darkened ballerinas dancing their last breath. “Could we have picked a windier day?” I quipped. Jason lagged behind with the shovel.

  “Okay, we just have to get through this children’s portion of the cemetery!” the dictator Jose hollered so we could hear. We walked on, staring slightly in the distance, where you could see a freshly-dug grave.

  As we neared it, Jason whispered to the girls, “Either one of you like to have a good time?” while pointing at the grave, and that broke the tensions as everyone chuckled. After that, we all became a bit more talkative.

  “Okay, this is the section,” Jose nodded, “Section S. That old bat must be buried here somewhere.”

  Just then, Marly screamed. “Did you guys see it?”

  “See what?” I asked. Everyone looked a bit startled.

  “Over there by the mausoleum, I thought I saw a man!”

  Jason and Jose started toward the crypt with the shovel in hand. When they got there, they walked around the small building. “Nothing! Nothing!” they hollered in unison.

  “Come on, Marly” I said, “you work with dead bodies.”

  “It is not the dead we have to fear,” she said, unconvinced that it was nothing.

  “Come on,” I tapped her shoulder, “where’s your sense of adventure? Let’s go over there to the crypt and examine it.”

  She pulled away. “No, let’s just get what we came for and go.”

  “Okay, Jose, break out the map!” Tabitha yelled, while giving Marly a pat on the other shoulder. “Did you guys have to pick the creepiest day possible?” Tabitha said, glancing around in a circular motion.

  “Okay, here we are,” Jose pointed, his hand making a knuckle cracking sound. “So, the grave has to be one of these, check the names, we are looking for a Grey Phillips.” We all looked, circling Section S.

  After about five minutes Jason exclaimed, “I got a Grey Phillips! Guess what, though? We got a concrete spot.”

  “Oh no, concrete…” everyone groaned.

  “Kinda unsual?” Marly spoke. “None of the rest of these are concrete. Why this one?”

  “Pounds of cash,” Jose told her, “pounds of cash. They wanted to keep us out. Hahaha! I’m convinced we are going to go jackpot in a bit, just have to get this bastard open. Okay, shovel, Jason, poke the shovel under the slab and see if you can lift it.”

  Jason did just that, he worked the shovel in at an angle and lifted; it moved. “Okay, just as I thought,” Jose said, frantically jumping up and grabbing the shovel, “we need to work the dirt around from under the slab and then we’ll all lift it; it should come off.”

  I took the shovel and began to work it around. Each side took a while to free, as the dirt was extremely hard, and the fog looked so eerie now that I tried to not pay much attention to it. “Just need enough space for these money-hungry hands to get in,” Tabitha said, pressing her hand under. “Ouch!” She drew her hand away. “Something stuck me!” She raised up her hand. “Ah, damn, it’s bleeding!”

  I dropped the shovel, walked over, and noticed her hand was bleeding kind of badly. I grabbed the napkin from in my pocket and wrapped her finger, squeezing it hard. “Must have been a rock or something.”

  Marly came to tend to Tabitha. “Just keep the pressure on. No doubt your way of getting out of shoveling,” Marly joked. “Okay everyone, you’ll need to be careful, we already are one man short,” she said.

  “Okay everyone, lift!” I commanded. Jose and I were on one end, with Jason, Marly, and Tabitha using her spare hand on the other. At first, the slab seemed like it had made a fool out of us all, but then it happened, it dislodged. We were holding it a foot in the air and slid it on the top of another grave. Underneath the slab, worms and other insects festered. A sharp, long stick with thorns around it looked like what had stuck Tabitha. I picked it up and threw it towards the children’s section.

  Jason smiled, “Okay people, we got dirt. Let’s do this. We’ll take turns. A little over one foot apiece and we don’t have to break a real sweat.”

  “Well, there’s something I didn’t tell you guys,” Jose spoke in an oddly hushed tone, “the ledger says this one is three feet deep.”

  “The hell, man?” Jason shot back. “three feet? What?”

  “Dude, they never bury anyone three feet? We are here, let’s just get it done,” Marly said. “Besides, we can all talk about what we plan to do with our share.”

  “I’ll dig first,” Jose said. “One of you tell what you’ll do with your share.”

  Jason volunteered to go first. “Well, I don’t know how much we’ll find, but my bills are drowning me lately, plus I’m taking care of an elderly parent. My father’s medical bills have been through the roof this year…” I watched as Jose started to dig while Jason talked, the worms continued to wiggle, and spiders escaped the soil as Jose trounced about. Jason continued, “I’d like to marry my girlfriend Samantha, if there’s any rings in there, I got dibs.”

  The women both said, “Aww!”

  “You’re a real charmer, Jason,” Tabitha said, dusting off her clothes.

  Jose had dug out a nice sized square. “Damn, I need a break,” he said, “someone else take over.”

  “A break?” Marly said, laughing at him. “You’ve not done anything!”

  “The dirt is hard!” Jose exclaimed. “You try, Marly.”

  Marly took the shovel.

  “So what about you, Jose?” I asked. “What will you do with your share?”

  “This money won’t help me much, hombre. I owe loan sharks. They are likely out looking for me tonight. You think I’d be here in this forsaken place otherwise?”

  “Why don’t you go to the police?” Jason asked.

  “The guy who’s after me, he’s a mean SOB, his name is Dirty Red, he is a cop.”

  “A crooked cop,” Jason said.

  I watched José’s face. This was the most serious I’d seen him in a long time. “How much do you need, Jose? I have a little saved.”

  “No, no, you can’t help me, man. I really stepped in it this time. Since the divorce, I been gambling, running up the tab. I’m pretty much a dead man if there’s nothing significant in here. They already broke the windows on my car. They’ve threatened my neighbors, my girl. I been just trying to figure it out before someone gets hurt and I’ve been drinking far too much, which hasn’t been helping. Okay, enough about me, someone else share. Marly?”

  Marly stopped mid-shovel. “It’s this, all of this,” she began. “When I was younger, none of it bothered me. Now, when I’m with people or at dinner, this is all I see. When I cut into a piece of steak, I think about sewing up a wound. At first I thought I was doing the public a service. But now I see it more as doing myself a disservice. I’d like to quit this job, open up my own flower shop…”

  Tabitha interrupted, “So when we were eating that chicken the other day, what were you seeing?” Marly chuckled. The rest of us knew what she meant, though: This is a job that no matter how hard you try, you can’t leave behind. It’s like it welds itself onto you. You always see things, like introducing to much embalming fluid and seeing it spilling out of a corpse’s mouth. We always think we see the body still breathing or moving and think “what if?” The dreams and nightmares of the dead persist.

  “Okay, okay, I guess I’ll share my story,” I said to the group. “I’m Jack Marin. Why am I here…You won’t believe me. A few days before Jose came to me with the info, I dreamed I was helping someone dig up a grave. When Jose told me about all this, I felt compelled to be here. Today before I left the house, I received a call. There was breathing in the background, and someone hung up when I said hello. The call came from this cemetery, according to the caller ID. I thought Jose was playing some sort of trick, but when I called him, he was at home. I played the lotte
ry yesterday, pick three, and guess what numbers rang up? 666. I thought I might come here and gamble at tempting fate a little further with you ghouls. I reckon we’re a good foot in. I’ll take the shovel now,” I said, grabbing its middle from Marly, and feeling the condensation that had lathered on it. I began flipping dirt furiously.

  “So,” Jose murmured, “what are you going to buy with your portion? If you don’t need it, I could sure use it.”

  “I’ve got to get my dog a pair of plastic testicles; he lets anyone into the yard.”

  “What the hell?” Tabitha belted out a laugh.

  “Okay people, less talk, more dirt digging,” Jason said, taking a spit to the left.

  “So, Tabitha, what are you doing with your share?” Marly asked.

  “I haven’t decided yet, maybe travel, always wanted to see Antarctica.”

  “What?” everyone asked.

  “You’re supposed to say some warm destination with drinks by the beach!”

  “We’ll see about that,” Tabitha insisted, “we’ll see.”

  “We’re making headway. Has to be a little under two feet down now, some more to go. Going to need help climbing out this hole.” Just at that moment, we heard something, something rattling in some nearby bushes. The bushes divided one part of the cemetery from the next. Jose helped me out of the hole, and the rattling grew louder. He took the shovel and began to walk toward the bush. Marly cautioned him to be careful, but Jason and I followed.

  There was a long bark, and a dog came tumbling toward Jose. Before he could lift the shovel, the dog was on him. I have never seen a dog this ferocious, and Jason and I couldn’t pull the dog off. It gnawed at Jose, so I grabbed the shovel and did the only thing I could: I bashed its head in with three hard hits. The dog slumped over. Jose, who had been screaming, “Get it off me!” just lay there, shocked, as the dog’s blood mingled with his cotton T-shirt.

  The dog spasmed, and as I started closer, I noticed the head wound was dripping with maggots and a light fluid. “You okay, Jose?” I asked, and he shook his head yes.