Authors: L A Taylor
During the same time as Chris was updating the news, Mike was explaining the dreadful events to Donald and Dawn. There was no mention of Jason returning to life as a zombie and feeding off Wayne’s neck. No zombie come back and no Wayne. All Mike said was that Jason didn’t make it through the night and died peacefully in his sleep.
All three sat watching the newsflash and the parents of the deceased linked arms. Mike watched them closely, expecting an outbreak of tears. They never arrived, as the grieving couple followed the news report. They’d done their crying earlier and just by being Jason’s parents sensed his death long before the dreadful news. Mike used the ending of the report as an excuse to leave the married, sonless couple. There was nothing more he could do there; this was their emotional fight and he was needed elsewhere.
“I’m going now,” he said, speaking with pure sadness in his tone. “If you need anything, just call me.”
The time was now 9.30am. Shane and Blake sat in the local café, thinking about their recent discussion. It’d been a good two hours since the closure of the factory and Blake had spoken to Todd on the phone. He knew he should be back at home with Karen but his mind felt troubled, so he needed to make a decision. “We can’t keep this to ourselves, man. What if my theory’s right?”
“I know you’re worried but I don’t see the point in alarming the police over this. If the fertilizer was washed down to the cemetery then don’t you think there would’ve been some news of this by now?”
Blake knew that Shane’s question had purpose, but also knew that the holiday village was in grave danger if something did eventually happen. “Why don’t we go to the cemetery? The police don’t even have to know about it. We can do our own investigating. It’ll put my mind at ease.”
Shane gave in, agreeing with him. He didn’t want to upset the other man anymore, even though he wasn’t keen on following Blake’s suggestion.
After they’d finished their drinks they made their way to the car. Blake offered to drive. Shane had no problems with being the passenger for a change, so handed over the keys. A minute into ‘operation graveyard’ and the car came to a sudden halt. “Why are we stopping?” Shane asked.
“I need to phone Karen. I don’t want her worrying over where I am and what I’m doing.”
Shane knew that the recent deaths had affected Karen. He could tell that Blake was a good husband and worried about her constantly, so never questioned his decision.
Blake pulled out his mobile and had a short conversation with his wife. He told her that he was going to the city to help Shane. He heard her sharp intake of breath after hearing the scientist’s name. “Tell that prick you’re with, if he gives you a hard time then I’m going to punch his lights out.”
“Okay baby, I’ll speak to you soon,” said Blake, grinning at Shane.
The phone was replaced.
“Is everything okay?” asked the scientist.
“Yeah, everything’s great,” Blake replied, as the grin remained firm. “She told me to say hello to you.”
They soon arrived at the main gates of the cemetery, but to their dismay they were locked.
“What time do they open?” Shane asked.
Blake scrunched up his face as he looked closely at his watch. He was so lost in other thoughts that he’d totally forgotten about the opening hours. “Not for another hour.”
“So, what happens now?” Shane paused slightly, deep down wanting no part in this grave searching. “Do we go back?”
“No way, we’ve just got here.” Blake scanned the area and soon spotted another gate. “There’s another way in.”
He followed the direction of the metal fortress as it surrounded the cemetery then turned, calling to Shane. “Follow me, there’s another entrance around the corner.”
Shane didn’t need to be told twice and both men headed toward an unlocked, smaller gate. This one was never padlocked, as there was no need to. The other gate was locked to prevent vehicles from entering at all hours of the day and night. Blake should’ve known that but as he hadn’t used it before, maybe could be forgiven for not noticing.
Blake stared through the holes in the gateway. The view gave him the big picture of the vast area of lost ones. However, all he could see were dirt piles and headstones, each with written memories of the person beneath them. They appeared to go on forever.
“Are you all right, Blake?”
“I will be once we get this over with.” The thought of having to walk into the graveyard wasn’t as appealing as two minutes ago. Blake felt a breeze beneath his clothing. A gust of wind raced up his back, causing him to shiver. “I’m just thinking, what if the dead woke up again from here?” He was still transfixed at this time. Shane might as well not be there for all the attention Blake gave him. After a while Blake shook his head, ridding himself of nightmare scenes of what could happen. He then pointed toward the burial site. “Look how many graves there are.”
That was that, the trance had gone and he was living in the real world again.
Shane quickly attracted Blake’s attention again, marching past him to enter the graveyard. “Right, shall we get this done now?” Shane really didn’t want to be there, but was, and for this short period took control of the situation. “You check down that way and I’ll go this.”
They discussed what was needed to do. Blake wanted to know if there were any disturbed graves and they were to concentrate on the burial sites that didn’t exceed nine months in date.
After around half an hour of constant staring at earth piles, nothing seemed out of the ordinary and everything looked fine. Shane turned around. “I told you that there was nothing to worry about,” he shouted.
Blake shouted back in reply. “Okay, so you’re right so far, but we should make sure that all is secure before we depart.”
Shane nodded and they carried on with the daunting, but needed task.
It took them a full hour to complete this crazy mission and meet back up. There was nothing, not even a trace of disturbed earth was out of place, but they did read a great deal of engraved messages while searching for clues. As far as they could gather there seemed to be a dozen deaths within the last nine months. This meant a lot of stinking flesh if these bodies decided to return to the land of the living. Blake backed down with his theory of crazed, killer mutants jumping out of the ground.
The fertilizer probably never reached this far anyway, so I don’t need to worry
, he thought. “It’s time we headed back. I want to make sure my wife’s okay.”
“I’m fine with that decision. I’m bored now after doing all that looking. I’ll drop you off. I think I know the way. I’ll then see if I’m needed by Mike again.”
Blake asked again if the other man would keep this adventure to himself. Shane had no need to say anything because there was nothing to say.
TWENTY-FIVE
Within a few hours of Blake’s sweep of the cemetery a few new visitors arrived. The bank robbers had emerged from their hiding place after news spread that the police were investigating deaths in Clifton Falls. Norman became very uptight, knowing the grounds could soon be overrun by snooping police, so told his crew that this was the only and best time for them to dig up the stolen cash. It was either today or wait a very, very long time.
Cheyanne and Norman weren’t stupid and didn’t disappear on the day of the robbery. Instead they had done their jobs. Norman had dug the grave and Cheyanne decorated the face of the late Mrs Austin. Both seemed callous toward the lady in the coffin. In their eyes it wasn’t them who’d killed her, so why feel guilty as if they had?
A few days after the funeral they announced to the community that they were going on holiday. That’d been nearly three months ago. The tragedy this town encountered had everyone devastated so no one assumed that the couple was behind the robbery. They thought they were just getting away from it all.
The killers had been hiding for nearly two weeks before Norman took them away from the town.
These men were now busy attacking a pile of earth with spades. Norman watched nearby, and Cheyanne stood by the car. She was to honk the horn if they received any unwanted guests.
“Hey guys. Are you nearly done?” asked Norman.
The men stopped working and stared at him. It wasn’t a look that Norman was used to, so he left them to it. They knew what needed to be done so returned to the task in hand, spade in, spade out, throw off dirt and repeat. Norman had to move away from the busy humans because somehow, whatever was tossed off the spades, ended up very close to his head. He knew why, but wasn’t prepared to slow the process down anymore than needed to. He looked over at his girlfriend, but she just laughed at him.
The rhythm of the spades altered after another few minutes. Rotting wood had been hit. After reaching their destination the two, silent men searched for the lid of the coffin. Norman was too intrigued to stand back now. He wanted to see the moneybags again and to feel them in the palm of his hands.
One of the men bent over, reached for the lid and lifted it up. There they were, six perfect in appearance moneybags, each full with notes and coins.
“Now doesn’t that look good?” Norman said to the gravediggers.
“Chabba, Chabba,” one of the men shouted, picking up a bag.
Norman hadn’t a clue what he was saying, as the men had been shipped into the country by his computer junkie girlfriend. She’d logged onto one of those foreign websites and bought the men by mistake. Norman told her time and time again that if she kept on using the ‘Bid4me.com/abroad,’ she would end up buying something completely different. Cheyanne thought she was getting a cheap mobile, so had asked for two. After all this time the couple still didn’t know where they originally came from. The spoken words used didn’t match anything that either he or Cheyanne had ever heard before.
“Good one, pass me the bags,” said Norman, while trying to figure out a sign, meaning he wanted the loot.
Cheyanne lit up a cigarette, watching meticulously as five bags were handed over to her man, but the sixth wasn’t arriving, so she moved away from the vehicle. “What’s all the hold up?” she shouted.
Norman wasn’t sure at first, so stared at the two men. They hesitated, and instead of grabbing the last bag were acting like they were frightened by something.
“There’s one more bag,” Norman shouted, pointing down at it.
The foreigner who’d pulled out the five bags seemed stuck in astonishment at something he’d just witnessed. The other one climbed out of the deep pit, mumbling words of nothingness over and over again. “No deada, no deada,” he cried.
Now those words worried Norman. Surely he would work out what they meant? The foreigner repeated the words.
The man inside the disturbed grave remained in deep concentration, staring at the figure inside the coffin.
Cheyanne closed in. She dropped the cigarette and tried calming the hysterical man down, but not once did she look at what kept the man inside the grave occupied.
Closed eyes were open again as the coffin dweller woke up. This vision forced the terrified man to fall backwards inside the grave. Now the others were interested to know what was going on. Each turned around to witness a hideous, thin being, with clothes hanging off the body try to climb out of the hole, but didn’t notice the zombie escape its recent resting home. The man tried so hard to reach the top of the opened grave but was so out of rhythm with his actions that he slid back into the danger area. His blabbering friend escaped from Cheyanne’s clutches and jumped back into the grave, moving behind the other man to push him toward the couple. Norman helped by grabbing the frantic man’s hand.
The re-awakened creature became a nuisance, and all four humans panicked when the figure neared one of the foreigners. Cheyanne quickly helped Norman pull up the trapped man while the second one fought with the unknown being. This dead creature truly recognised the human as being the man who made it the way it was now, and a crazy glare escaped its features. The zombie gripped tightly onto him so he couldn’t find a way up to the others. A few shaking movements followed before the man was free again. He now frantically tried grabbing onto anybody’s hand to flee from the oncoming beast, but the newly transformed monster wasn’t going to give up. The three, able bodies all reached into the pit to grab onto any part of the terrified person’s body, but the knife that was used to kill the person before it was like this now fell out of his clothing. The groaning fiend noticed it fall and just before the jabbering man was rescued it grabbed the item, plunging it deep into his leg before yanking it back out. The avalanche of blood pleased the monster. It clasped the wound firmly with two hands, slipped rotting fingers into it and tore flesh away from the scared man’s calf.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaah,” he bellowed.
This was the right moment for the humans to make their escape out of the cemetery. Cheyanne grabbed two of the bags then raced off to start the car.
“You help your friend,” Norman explained, aiming more hand gestures at the funny talking men. “I’ll get the bags.”
More moaning noises were heard as they moved along the graveyard. Dirt flew from other graves as more un-dead beings were seen lifting heads out of the ground. Norman turned, spotting disturbed earth being tossed into the air and a few seconds later a hand rose from the grave. He didn’t want to believe this was happening and so extended his speed, leaving the other men behind. Zombies reached the outside, each one able to smell the freshness in the air and the aroma of fresh meat. The wound released blood, making the injured man look like a menu to the new breed of zombie recruits.
Cheyanne honked the car horn to hurry the others. She knew the non-Englishmen were in deep trouble and so shouted out for Norman to go back. He dropped the bags and did what was told, while she rushed to pick them up again.
Six zombies now rose onto the grass, each slowly pointing in the direction of the humans. Norman grabbed onto one of the injured man’s arms and helped. This action wasn’t going down well with the new enemy as they were made to watch their first meal escape out of the cemetery.
The car was off at high speed, with the occupants not caring where they were going. Anywhere was on their agenda as long as they could escape.
“What the fuck were those?” a sweaty Norman cried out.
“I have no idea,” said Cheyanne.
The car slowed down again as it made some distance. The injured man was in the back seat, gripping tightly onto his friend and screaming in agony. He needed hospital treatment, but the car wasn’t going anywhere near Clifton Falls for him to receive any.
The escaped zombies wandered around inside the cemetery. One carried the last of the moneybags, while another picked up the still lighted, lipstick-coated cigarette. This faceless creature was a cancer victim due to smoking and somehow, the sight of the drug stick brought back memories. This thing wasn’t acting like a zombie. It inserted the fag between the rotten, worn away molars, sucking hard on it. With eyes glowing from the excitement of tasting nicotine again, sucked even harder, but the more it did this, the more it produced smoke. The smoke accumulated into a large ball, covering the creature’s vision. Every time it inhaled, dark coughing potion was seen escaping out of the holes in the face. This affected the monster’s sight until it stupidly fell back into one of the opened graves.
The other zombies spotted the strange object being waved about and each walked over to it. Somehow, none of the freaks were aware of what they were now. They acted like humans, well, as close as they could, and the sight of money caused an argument to develop amongst them. It was like watching a very old slapstick comedy, a bit like the Marx Brothers. These weirdoes slapped each other in their quest to obtain the stolen loot. Suddenly the bag dropped, spilling coins. This received a clear reaction that was very much noticeable by all the zombies, except the one stuck in the grave. Each smiled at witnessing the sight of money.
The fighting ceased as one of the zombies, a card shark in its former life, reached into its half-eaten, jacket pocket. It retrieved a pack of worn away cards. The cards were buried with the body as a reminder to all of its gambling buddies.
While these excited monsters sat down to try and play cards, a sixth freak climbed out of a grave for the second time. The stolen coins were dished out and strange laughter flowed from the creatures. It seemed like they were having a party rather than preferring to scare people.
The non-playing, walking dead person never joined the others, instead, searched for the way out. It’d encountered the injured man’s blood on the grass and the zombie side had returned to its taste buds.
The owner of the cards had a way of winning the coins without even trying. If it’d cheated in the former life then there was no place for it to hide the cards now, as there wasn’t enough clothing to stick a card behind, but all the same it was still winning. Just like humans, the other zombies became restless at losing all of the time. Angry growls could be heard as they lost interest in the game, but the lucky monster just smiled at them.
They eventually returned to their feet. The strange aroma of the sweet smelling blood leakage penetrated their nostrils again. At once the human-like behaviour disappeared and was replaced with a hunger for human flesh. As the sixth zombie found a way out of the graveyard, heading into the forest region, a whining groan was heard coming from it. This was a signal to the others that they should follow. The coins were brushed to one side and the following pack made their way to the gate. For these creatures to master the art of a second chance on this earth they had to start fulfilling their roles and dismember the living.