by Damon Novak
Others came now, from all around the house, as though the melee had drawn them, either by smell or instinct.
The skinwalkers did not leave after they finished devouring Dancing Rain’s body. They gathered at the sliding door, at least seven or eight of them now, pressing in, their disgusting tongues lapping at the glass, their blood-covered bodies pressed against it as they sought his flesh.
Are these my people? he wondered for the first time. He allowed his eyes to drift from one horrid face to the next. Despite the horrific changes in their features, Wattana soon concluded that he did not recognize any of the skinwalkers.
This meant the curse had been cast as the text said it would be; anyone with the blood of the land in them was safe.
The door did not appear at risk of caving in, so he scooted away, then stood and approached it from the side, drawing the blinds. He did the same in the other room until the interior of his house was shrouded in shadows.
Wattana hurried into the darkened bedroom, closing himself inside. He dropped down on his bed and hung his head.
Climbing Fox cried as he reached beneath the bed for the book Dancing Rain had brought to him.
He had betrayed her. She had suffered a horrific death because of him.
He opened the book. He had to stop it. He had to try.
Hands shaking, ravaged by guilt, and with Dancing Rain’s terrified screams ringing in his ears, he scoured the ancient text for some way to stop what he had set upon the land.
Ω
The Florida Panhandle
The skiff we had picked up was a strange little boat that appeared to be either custom built or made by a small manufacturer. It was called a Peeler Skiff, and it was around fifteen feet long with a weird-ass electric trolling motor on it called a Torqueedo. It was only a 15-horsepower motor, but it pushed that skiff along real good at around 14 knots – with four people.
It had a small center console, and the seats were basically wooden benches that curved around the inside perimeter of the craft. The boat was made of wood, too, with teak oars mounted to the inside rails – which told me it was definitely a small, artisan boatmaker.
We reached shore in no time, cuttin’ the engine before we reached the dock and usin’ the paddles from there. We rowed into position behind a larger boat where we could disembark without bein’ seen.
Georgina said, “I think it might be a good idea to minimize our time out here. So, I suggest we pair off and hit the grocery store and the gun shop. Thoughts?”
“If we’re doin’ pairs, then you’re with me, Dr. Lake,” I said. “Danny, you mind gettin’ bogged down with this dead weight?” I nodded toward Lilly, who held up her middle finger on her right hand.
“Bite me, CB.”
“We’re good,” Danny said. “And quit with the smack, man. You get cocky, shit goes wrong. Hell, CB, that’s been our motto since high school.”
“Yeah, I know, but she’s my sis, so it’s okay. God forgives that shit. Let’s prep. Check your weapons and don’t get separated.”
“Here,” said Georgie, handing a piece of paper with scrawled handwriting on it. “Directions to the Publix grocery store and the bait shop. Roxy said it looks like they’re on the same block.”
Danny stared at me, then jerked his head toward Georgina, then at Lilly. “After all this shit, I’m just goin’ food shoppin’?”
“Necessities come in many shapes and sizes,” said Lilly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure they have charcoal briquettes, or something manly like that you can throw over your shoulder. Maybe a big bag of dog food for Nokosi.”
“Don’t cry,” I said. “You’re hittin’ the bait shop, too.”
“Hope the power’s still on or the emergency generators kicked in and kept the bait frozen.”
“You know how to toss a cast net,” I said. “Bait’s the least of our worries. Get some fishin’ rods, nets, stuff you lost.”
“Let’s do this,” said Lilly.
We got out as Danny tied the boat to the cleats mounted to the dock. The large boat that blocked anyone on shore from seein’ us was a Sunseeker 86. The thing looked brand new, and it started me thinkin’.
“Let’s have a look at that monster when we get back here,” I said. “We’re a little tight on that Sea Ray now.”
Danny let out a low whistle. “You’re puttin’ a lot of faith in me if you see me drivin’ that beast.”
“Yep,” I said. “Now get shoppin’. Georgie, lead the way.”
We all peered out from behind the big Sunseeker like a bunch of cartoon detectives. There was a big sign that read: Summer Palms Marina – Fuel Docks. There was an arrow pointing to the west, which was the opposite direction from the earlier horde we’d seen. Nobody was visible.
“Looks clear,” I said. “Let’s move.”
Georgina headed out and I tucked in behind her. To keep from thumpin’ along the dock, we didn’t run, but walked slowly until we hit the sand. Exposed, it was then we started to move steadily faster.
The small marina had a bait shop, which Lilly and Danny immediately angled toward. Georgie had her directions in hand and went straight, between two buildings. I saw a pretty big boulevard beyond the structures.
“How far is it?” I said, then reached down for my radio. I pushed the button.
“It’s about a half-mile,” said Georgie, as I said into the radio, “Danny, Lil? Y’all read?”
“We do,” said a voice I recognized as Roxy. “Loud and clear.”
“So do we,” said Lilly. “Now, only use it when we have to.”
Afraid my sis would bite my dang head off if I said, “Roger that!” or anything else at all, I just clipped it back on my belt. I wasn’t sure acknowledging her instructions qualified as “havin’ to use the radio.”
“Shit,” I said, as we rounded a corner. A pretty sizable group of the deadheads were millin’ around but hadn’t yet caught sight of us.
“C’mon,” I said, spottin’ a bunch of colorful scooters in a rack. There was a sign that said, “Scooter, Golf Cart & Jet Ski Rentals.”
She jogged behind me as we put another building between us and the crazies. “Good,” she said. “The estimate appears to be off a bit. We’re probably about three miles from H & H Firearms.”
“Guess we docked at a different spot than Rox figured.”
“There’s a kiosk there,” said Georgie. We both jogged toward it, our heads on a swivel. There were a couple people staggerin’ around to the east of us, and another six or so to the west. None were close enough to worry about, but by the time we got to the small tiki-style building, they were movin’ in our direction.
“Number and color, please?” I asked.
She glanced over at the scooters. “Seafoam green. Number 18.”
“I’ll take 22 black. My lucky Roulette combo.”
“We need all the luck we can get,” she said.
The kiosk had a thatch roof and a hatch that flipped up and became a shade top while people signed the rental contracts, while the proprietor stood inside. There was room for like two people, but it looked empty.
I leaned over the counter to lift the keys off the clips.
“Watch out, Cole!” shouted Georgina, but it was too late. A blistered, ragged arm shot up from below my field of vision, and the hand attached to the end snagged my wrist.
Maybe the guy runnin’ the booth had been clawin’ at the floor or whatever, but I didn’t see him, and he wasn’t makin’ any noise before I reached inside.
I instinctively jerked backward, but the fingers gripped tight. Just as I heard the sharp crack of the bone, the dead thing had made it to its feet, and I saw both its face and the shiny barrel of Georgie’s favorite handgun passin’ my eyes. She fired into its forehead two times in rapid succession.
Black spattered the back wall of the kiosk, coverin’ the dozens of swim masks and snorkels with the putrid-smellin’ gunk.
The fingers relaxed and slid from my arm, and a thud sounded
as the dead monster collapsed in a heap at the bottom of the kiosk. I leaned over, just to be sure it wasn’t movin’. My eyes now adjusted to the shadowy area inside, I watched the black ooze runnin’ from its fatal wounds.
“You have to be more careful, Cole,” she said, touchin’ my shoulder. Her voice was shaky.
“Thanks for savin’ my ass,” I said. “Never saw him.”
She leaned past me and lifted keys 18 and 22 from the hooks. As she did so, she looked down. “Cole, there are cigarettes underneath the counter.”
“Marlboro reds?” I asked.
“Four cartons.”
“Grab ‘em. Get a bag, too.”
I turned back to watch the approachin’ mini-hordes from both directions, but they still weren’t a threat.
Georgie came up with a plastic bag containin’ the four rectangular boxes. She tied a knot in the top and turned. “Let’s mount up.”
I shook my head. “You have nerves of steel, Georgie.”
“You experience a patient’s heart stopping on the operating table and try to keep your cool. It happens, and I wasn’t exactly Dr. Smooth the first time.”
She passed me the smokes and I opened the seat of my scooter and tucked them inside. We both put our keys in the ignition switches and turned them a click. The scooters had been refueled, and both tanks read full.
“On three, hit the starter,” I said.
“Okay,” said Georgie. “One, two … three.”
We pushed the buttons, and as one, they cranked and started.
“You ever ride one before?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “They’re automatic shift, so just gas on the right and use the foot brake to stop.”
“Sweet,” I said. “You know where the gun shop is, so head out.”
As we drove away from the kiosk, the crazies were only within thirty yards or so.
I really hoped our luck held.
Ω
“I swear, we’re like goddamned fireflies in pitch dark!” I said, yellin’ so Georgie could hear me as I rode beside her.
“Yes, they do angle toward the noise when we pass. Hope the path back isn’t clogged with them.”
“What the hell?” I said. It had begun to smell strongly of charred wood.
Georgie raised her hand and pointed to a parkin’ lot. We both pulled in front of a pile of blackened rubble and stopped.
“Cut the motor,” she said. I did, and she did the same.
“This is the address,” she said. “That must be the gun shop.”
“Shit!” I said. “Ammo would’ve all gone off from the flames.”
“Yes,” she said. “Luckily, Rox gave me a second address.”
“Yeah?” I said.
“Yes, it’s Ranger Firearms & Mercantile, but it’s about another three miles north of here.”
“Got scooters, so that’s not a big deal,” I said. “Let’s stay tight, though.” We counted three again, fired the scooters, and took off.
As we pulled away, I saw American Legion Post 235 next door to the gun shop, the marquis announcin’ a fundraiser that would never happen. An old U.S. Army tank stood in front, a monument to past wars.
I secretly wished that sucker would fire up. I’d feel a lot manlier – and a hell of a lot more secure – drivin’ that thing. Instead, I putted on my scooter alongside my new girlfriend toward Ranger Firearms.
We reached Memorial Parkway and turned right, heading east, past a cemetery.
I swerved toward the curb, stopped the scooter and turned it off, putting put my feet down.
“What are you doing?” asked Georgie, pulling up beside me.
“Shh. I’m just checkin’.”
“For what?” She cut her motor.
I looked at Georgie. “You’ve seen the damned movies. If we both agree these things are dead, then who’s to say they can’t … I don’t know, wake up?”
“You really did watch too many horror movies, Cole,” said Georgie. “Most people are embalmed, and the ones that aren’t were likely eaten away by every creepy crawler living in the dirt. There’s no coming back from that.”
“If you say so,” I said, but still scanned from grave to grave, lookin’ for any signs of movement. As I watched, a breeze swirled past us, creating a whirlin’ dervish of leaves that definitely would’ve turned into a monster and chased me down the street when I was 10 years old.
But there were no zombies crawlin’ from their graves. I was satisfied, but had to justify my fears. I turned to Georgie.
“What’s happened so far is impossible,” I said. “So it’s up to everyone to keep an eye out for other impossible shit. I’m satisfied.”
“Good. I was never worried,” said Georgie.
“But I reserve the right to think they might just be havin’ a tough time crawlin’ out, so ask that you withhold judgement for now.”
“Whatever you say.” She smiled. “C’mon. We don’t have all day to assuage your childhood fears.”
“Assuage?
“Not a swamp word?”
I laughed. “If I can’t spell it, I try not to say it.”
We fired the small, efficient engines and made a left on Beal Parkway NW.
As I rode, I pulled the radio off my belt and held it to my mouth. “Lil, Danny? You guys on?”
“What you need, CB?” came Danny’s voice.
“Nothin’,” I said. “Just checkin’ on you.”
“We’re in the bait shop. Smells to high heaven. They have all the shit snacks fishermen take out on boats. They got boat carts too, so we’re fillin’ up a couple. Takin’ anything we could use.”
“Run into any trouble on the way in?”
“Not bad. Still kinda queasy, though. Killin’ things that look human fucks with your head.”
“Then we’ll all be fuckheads before long, ‘cause this don’t seem to be endin’ anytime soon. Be careful and grab some beer.”
“Already in my little wagon.”
“Good man. First gun shop was burned out. Headin’ to another, a little farther inland.”
“Stay safe, man.”
“I will.”
I clipped the radio back on my belt.
Beside me, Georgie said, “Everything okay there?”
“Right as rain,” I said, as we rounded the corner onto Lewis Turner Boulevard.
At first, I was too shocked to react. When Georgina hit her brakes full on, I did the same, and we both skidded to a stop.
If I wouldn’t have looked like a giant pussy, I would’ve used my feet to push myself around and haul ass in the opposite direction. Instead I stared at the crazy scene.
It was inexplicable.
First, there were alligators. Not just a few. There had to have been twenty of ‘em, all up on their legs how they do when they’re on land. Betwixt and between ‘em were zombies of all shapes, genders and sizes, payin’ not one bit of attention to ‘em. I couldn’t see the end of the procession with the naked eye and had no idea if there were another few hundred zombie gators mixed in with the main horde.
They walked along together like they’d been on a goddamned hayride and the tractor broke down. A motherfucker of a tractor pulling two dozen hay-haulin’, daisychained flatbeds.
Now, gators don’t normally walk around with their mouths open unless they’re lookin’ to eat somethin’. This congregation was different; as they moved toward us, not a hell of a lot faster than the clusterin’ deadheads they were with, their mouths opened wide and snapped closed, repeatedly.
I listened for the deep croak that told me they were nearby, and believed I heard it … only different.
I walked my scooter to the side of the road slowly, motioning for Georgie to do the same. She followed me and we both cut our motors.
“If there was any doubt,” said Georgie. “We now know they are both afflicted with the same … disease, curse, whatever this is.”
“They don’t act like they saw us,” I said.
“Their e
yes are filmed over, such as a cataract might cloud the pupil,” said Georgina. “I would imagine this condition carries to any affected species. Their vision would naturally be very poor at a distance.”
“We got the wind with us, too,” I said. “But that said, you smell that rot?”
“It’s like the morgue on steroids. Let’s go back and detour on a side road. I’ll feel more comfortable when we’re away from them.”
“You keep on preachin’ to the choir,” I said. “And I’ll keep on singin’ your tune.”
We pushed the scooters until we faced southwest, then rolled until we were out of sight of the massive horde. Georgie had her hand on the starter button when I said, “Wait.”
She looked at me. “What?”
I nodded toward the CVS Pharmacy. “You said that gun store’s just up at the next street. That other side road’s still too close for comfort. Judgin’ from the size of that herd, they’ll still be pourin’ down the street when we get there.”
“Got it,” she said. We both started the scooters and drove into the CVS parking lot, then drove around to the front doors.
“Bound to be somebody in there who wants to eat us,” I said.
“Better than a thousand of them,” she said.
It was a hard point to argue.
We parked the bikes, double-checked our weapons, and headed toward the entrance.
Reaching the door, a raggedy dude wearin’ the blue CVS shirt with the red collar and nametag slammed into the glass front, his mouth open, then bounced off it and landed on his dead ass. Thankfully he hadn’t hit the door square, or he’d have pushed it open and run right into us.
Georgie and I hadn’t seen him comin’, ‘cause the lights in the store were out and the sun was pretty much straight up overhead by then, lettin’ the shadows be. We both jumped back and nearly fell ourselves.
When his face smashed the door he was in full-on bite mode, so most of his front teeth either shattered or got knocked out of his rottin’ head. What was left were only jagged remnants that might actually work better on us than the originals.