Floodwater Zombies (10 page)

“How dare you say something like that,” he said curtly. “You know it was midget porn.”

Her laugh recharged, mingling with the distant howls from their friends, and then faded into the lake’s night song. Rory stirred in the canvas chair and drank from his can. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand, letting his eyes stray from focus in the fire’s light. Gentle pops spit orange bursts upward with the rising smoke. “No, I guess she saw the writing on the wall and got out while the
gettin
was good.” A faint grin crept across one side of his face. “Can’t
says
I blame her,” he said with the voice of an elderly redneck, the grin finally reaching the other side of his face.

She turned to him with an orange frown. “Wait a minute, was this before or after you lost your job?”

He snorted. “Two weeks after.”

She inhaled sharply and covered her plunging neckline with one hand. “Oh my God, that is horrible! Who does something like that?”

“Well, it’s like Tracy Lawrence always says,
when the well runs dry, you find out who your friends are…”

Rachel’s eyes narrowed in the unsteady light.
“Who?”

“Turns out she wasn’t a big fan of frozen pizzas, which is the direction my budget had taken.”

“Wow, you sure know how to pick
em
,” she groaned, swirling the last sips around in the wine glass.

He turned to meet her warm smile and started chuckling. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Suddenly, Woody came running out of the water, dripping wet and covering his privates with both hands. “This is so epic! I think I might actually have a shot with Kate tonight,” he said, grinning from ear to ear and dancing from foot to foot. “But I’m so nervous I have to take a giant poop.”

Rachel held up a hand, her face twisting.
“Ewe!
Way too much info.”

“What should I do?” he asked, anxiously surveying the campsite.

“Grab some TP and go find a bush,” Rory suggested.

Woody’s brow wrinkled.
“A bush?”

“Or you can hoof it back to the
porta
-potty in the parking lot.”

Woody turned to the darkened woods, actually considering the half mile trek for a moment. “Shit!” he said, resigning to hop over to the picnic table and snatch up a loose roll of toilet paper.

Rachel and Rory laughed as he disappeared into the trees.

“Watch out for Jason!” Rory yelled after him.

Rachel scrunched her face up. “That is so gross! How can he do that in the woods like that? I could barely go number one out there. Thought for sure I was going to get poison ivy all over my butt.”

“You want me to check and make sure you didn’t.”

She tilted her head and tried not to smile as Ashley started screaming bloody murder. Their eyes flicked over to the lake just in time to see Ashley plunge beneath the surface with a hefty splash. Clutch and Kate stood off to the side laughing, their wet bodies glistening as they watched the spot where the pretty blonde had disappeared.

“See what he started,” Rachel murmured.

In a moonlit flash, a dark figure popped out of the water and grabbed Kate from behind, wrapping her up in an aggressive bear hug. Rory was impressed with Ashley’s ability to swim under water and get behind Kate that quickly. Kate’s scream died on her lips when the silhouette pulled her underwater.

Clutch released a high-pitched shriek more suited for a young girl encountering a hairy spider in the bathroom. He dove in and swam for shore, his arms paddling like hell through the water until he beached himself in the shallows. He stumbled to his feet and began sprinting with a look of terror blanketing his face. His tiny wiener smacked against his stomach like a paddle-ball with each galloping step he took as shiny beads of water flew through the air around him. “Jesus Christ!” he screamed, hitting the sandy shore and picking up speed.

Rory bolted upright in the lawn chair, his eyes thinning when a man wearing a dark-colored suit sprang from the shallows and started running after Clutch. The man grunted and snarled as he closed the gap with a frightening pace. A deep wrinkle carved through Rory’s sinking face. “What the…”

Rachel’s wine glass slipped through her fingers and clattered to the dirt without breaking. “Oh my God,” she said faintly, watching the man tackle Clutch from behind. An audible
oomph
escaped Clutch’s lips when they hit the sand. The man jumped to his dress shoes and began dragging the DJ back towards the water. Clutch screamed and kicked, desperate to free his ankle from the raggedy man’s one-handed grip.

“Help me!” he cried, turning onto his stomach and feverishly clawing at the sand, his eyes popping out of their sockets.
“Rory!”

Rory jumped up, knocking his chair to the ground where it folded as quickly as Rory’s face. Clutch sent one last yelp into the night before the water found his gasping mouth. Rory dropped the beer can, his heart jack hammering inside his chest as the man and Clutch submerged beneath the water’s silvery surface.

Rachel sprang to her feet. “Mark!”

A dead silence answered her scream. Even the crickets and frogs seemed shocked into a grave hush. Rory swallowed dryly, his wide eyes jerking back and forth across the water, waiting for Clutch, Kate and Ashley to pop up and start laughing again. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Rachel, unable to move, their chests rising and falling in unison as they watched the dark water begin to calm. They waited without words, their brains reeling to grasp the impossible. The fire popped loudly, making them jump. Slowly, they turned to each other, their eyes as wide as Clutch’s had been.

“What the fuck was that?” Rory asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Rachel blinked her panic-filled eyes and took his arm.

He shrugged her off and pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it to the ground. “Call the police.”

“Rory, no!”

He sprinted to the water’s edge, stopped and surveyed the quiet lake with fuzzy eyes, his blood pumping thickly in his temples. Small waves gently lapped over his blue Nikes while a light breeze tickled his brown hair. He waited for a sign of life while his mind raced a million miles an hour in the dubious peace and quiet.

“Our phones are in the cars!” Rachel cried out behind him.

His heart sank with the reminder. He hesitated for a moment before undoing the belt on his army green cargo shorts.
 
His eyes scoured the water, trying to find the right spot to dive in as a young boy began slowly emerging from the water’s shimmering surface. Rory stopped loosening his belt and watched the boy’s shoulders clear the water. Dark hair draped straight down over his pasty forehead, dripping water into hollow eyes aimed right at Rory. The moonlight made the boy’s cracked skin (what was left of it) glow like a floating ghost. His black suit and yellow tie hugged his bony body as he steadily shuffled closer, moaning in pain with each sluggish step he took. Rory backpedalled without even realizing he was moving and quickly buckled his belt. The boy grinned at him, revealing broken teeth with sharpened points. His arms lethargically stretched out to Rory like he just needed a hug. And judging by the decay gripping the boy’s face and hands, he did. He couldn’t have been older than seven or eight but looked like he had been under water for over a decade.

An elderly woman in a black dress shot from the water a few yards behind him. Her ear piercing shriek made Rory flinch. Without hesitation, she began running his direction at an alarming rate of speed, especially for someone so decrepit. Rachel read Rory’s mind and screamed, snapping him from his trance.

He turned and bolted for the campfire, glancing over his shoulder just long enough to see the old lady blaze past the young boy in a flash. Her left eye was missing and there was no way he could outrun her, but he tried just the same. Even in the fire’s orange light, Rachel’s face looked colorless when he snatched her arm.

“Come on!” he said, yanking her towards the woods.

“What the hell is that?” she screamed, trying not to stumble.

“Just keep moving!” His breath outran him as he sinuously navigated the campsite’s jumping shadows, expecting the senior citizen to tackle one of them from behind at any second. His feet surprised him with an agility he didn’t think was possible. It felt like he was flying over the beaten down land as they entered the darkened woods.

Chapter Six

“What the fuck, man!”

“Woody!” Rory gasped.

“What is your problem, dude?” he moaned, sitting up next to an unwinding roll of toilet paper and rubbing the back of his head.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Rory panted, glancing behind them for the first time since fleeing the campsite. It was dark and quiet. Moonbeams cut through bare spots in the canopy of trees above, leaving ominous blotches of pitch black with God knows what lurking inside.

Rory turned to Rachel, who was still nervously looking behind them with her breath coming hard and fast. Tears left shiny paths down her face that mixed with the blood running from a long scratch just below her left eye.
It was a miracle she had managed to keep both of her flip-flops on.

“Hey, hey,” he wheezed. “Come on, take it easy. They’re gone.”

She turned to him with horror-stricken eyes and dropped her head into his bare chest, sobbing uncontrollably. His arms instinctively wrapped around her and gently squeezed - something he had dreamed about for the past three years. But not like this.

“Who’s gone?” Woody asked, getting to his bare feet and brushing dirt from his rear end in the speckled light.

“
Shhhh
!”
Rory sneered, wiping sweat from his brow.