Cemetery Club (36 page)

“So let’s charge the mother fuckers!” Cory put action to words, stepping off the lip and into the pit, flashlight in one hand and squirt gun in the other. His feet slid and slipped as he waded through the rotten flesh but he kept his eyes on the Shades, aiming and shooting any time he got close to one. John joined him, waving his more powerful toy gun back and forth like a flamethrower. The Shades exploded and emitted light so frequently that flashlights were useless. Todd began his cleansing prayer again as he waded through, spraying Holy water and tossing Communion wafers onto the bodies and ground in an ever-widening circle.

Cory’s eyes burned from the constant bursts of light. He struggled to see through the colored spots that clouded his vision but he kept pulling the trigger. The sound of Travers’ gun - the shots less frequent, more spaced out - told him the Chief was still picking off zombies. At one point the sound changed and Cory wondered if his hearing was screwed up from all the loud noise or if Travers had switched guns.

Something dark appeared from Cory’s right side and he tried to bring his squirt rifle around but it was too late. Icy cold tendrils slithered over his arms and neck, freezing him in place.

Think positive thoughts!
He tried but it was impossible with the alien visage of the Shade right in front of him. The lava-red eyes grew larger as the thing’s face drew closer. He clamped his lips shut and tried to turn his head but his neck refused to obey.

Then a supernova exploded in his brain. Everything turned pure white, a light so intense it actually sent arrows of pain through his skull, worse than any hangover he’d ever had. At the same time, the cold disappeared, replaced by a feeling of pure joy, a moment where he
knew
something better existed beyond this life.

The elation ended as quickly as it had come but it left Cory with a renewed sense of purpose. Blinking away tears, he opened his eyes and found himself on his back in the fetid remains of the dead bodies. Saw John standing next to him, still firing his squirt gun like a madman.

This ends now.

He climbed to his feet and stomped through the grisly graveyard towards the nearest Shades.

“I’m not afraid of you anymore!” he shouted. “You need to leave this place. You don’t belong here.” With each sentence, he sent more Holy water flying, aiming carefully each time. Then an idea came to him. He started repeating Todd’s prayer as he fired on the shadowy creatures.

“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, I bless this ground. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, I—”

“Bless this ground!” John, a manic smile on his face, joined in. Together, they marched further into the pit, Shades exploding so often the cavern took on the appearance of a silent fireworks display. Travers’ random gunfire added thunder to the light show.

By the time they reached the other side, they were covered in gore and their voices were hoarse from shouting.

Not a single Shade remained.

“We did it!” Cory cried, gripping John’s shoulder.

“Not yet,” Todd said, coming up from behind them. “There might be other caverns to bless. We have to go all the way through to the old hospital to make sure.”

“Um, guys? Problem.” John pointed at the remaining zombies, who had started moving forward again.

“Not anymore. Watch our backs.” Cory moved back towards the center of the pit, raised his pistol, and shot one of the zombies in the head. Up on the ledge, Travers was shooting again as well, this time with a chrome-plated revolver.

Unlike before, the undead people no longer moved in unison or with any sign of intelligence in their actions. Cory found it almost too easy to pick them off one by one, and by the time his second clip ran out, there were no more on his side left standing.

“Are we ready to get this over and done with?” John lifted his squirt rifle and gestured towards the far tunnel.

“Wait. There’s something I need to do first.” Cory carefully made his way back to the edge of the pit, where Travers was taking aim at the last handful of zombies standing near the first tunnel’s entrance.

“Travers.”

“I heard. Go do what you have to do.”

“Can you get Marisol out of here?”

The Police Chief nodded. “As soon as I blow these fuckers to Hell, I’ll bring her to Town Hall. We’ll be waiting for you there.”

“Thank you.” Cory still didn’t like the man, was pretty sure Travers didn’t like him either, but he also knew they owed the Chief a debt they could never repay. Without him, they’d have ended up zombie food or worse. He hoped the Chief understood his gratitude was for more than just helping Marisol.

John tugged at his sleeve. “Let’s go. She’ll be fine.”

Cory wasn’t so sure. Marisol was curled up in the fetal position. She was either gasping for air or sobbing, he couldn’t tell. But he couldn’t stay. They had to put an end to the Shades or none of them would ever be fine.

As much as he hated doing it, Cory followed John and Todd across the pit to the other tunnel. He kept his pistol at the ready as they neared the entrance but no more zombies were waiting for them.

Then they were in darkness again, leaving Travers his lights and Marisol at the mercy of the creatures.

He prayed they were doing the right thing.

Pain!
The Horde felt itself breaking apart, each destruction a separate agony that all of them experienced.

Run! Attack! Hide! what do we do what do we do What do…. We go where? Attack which ones?

The confusion of thoughts jumped among them. With numbers too few to retain cohesiveness, the Horde devolved into individuals again, many of whom let go of their anger and pain and finally allowed themselves to leave the darkness behind and move on. The others retreated back to where they’d been born, the places of the Dead and Tortured. Those inhabiting human shells tried to attack the human holding the gun but without the ability to think as One they found themselves unable to carry out any focused actions. Instead, bullets put an end to the semi-living bodies, releasing more of the Horde - which quickly joined their brethren in one form of escape or another.

All except one and that one made sure to keep itself hidden from the humans.

*  *  *

It took Cory, John and Todd less than two hours to make their way through the tunnel and the basement of the old hospital. Along the way, they stopped to consecrate two more mass graves.

Although they killed several handfuls of Shades, they saw no more zombies.

When they returned to the first cavern, Marisol and Travers were gone and all the zombies dead. They hurried back through the asylum’s basement and then headed to Gates of Heaven Cemetery, where Todd proceeded to cleanse and bless Grover Lillian’s crypt and the smaller mass grave beneath it.

“That should be the end of it,” Todd said, as the others helped him out of the tunnel. “God, I think I’ll go to bed and sleep for a week.”

For a moment none of them said anything, just stood and looked at each other. Cory wondered if the others were feeling the same mix of exhaustion, relief and sense of accomplishment as he was. They’d been through Hell together and they looked it. Dirt, spoiled body fluids and corpse slime covered them, mixing in with their own sweat to create a horrible mess. Their clothes were torn. Stinking pieces of flesh stuck to their hair and bodies. Eyes peered out from grime-covered faces, making the three of them look like coal miners emerging from a collapsed shaft.

Although he couldn’t tell because of the putrid odors still wafting up from the tunnel, Cory imagined they all smelled as bad - if not worse - than they looked.

Mirroring his thoughts, John said, “I need a shower. Followed by another shower.”

“Me too,” Cory said. “But first I have to find Marisol. She might need to go to the hospital.”

“We’ll go with you.” Todd bent down and picked up his pack.

“You don’t have to,” Cory said.

“No, we stick together. You were both there for us when we were in trouble, now we’ll be there for Marisol.”

Cory thanked them. Even though he felt a bit guilty about their postponing their much-needed showers and sleep, he was grateful for their presence. In truth, he was so exhausted he wasn’t sure he could drive into town without falling asleep behind the wheel.

They emerged from the crypt to find only seven hours had passed since they entered the hospital, which surprised Cory. It seemed like a lifetime. He climbed into his car without a second thought for the upholstery, even though he knew no amount of detailing would ever get the smell out. He figured a ruined car was a small price to pay for their having survived.

When they arrived at Town Hall the lights were on and the front door hung half off the hinges. Cory let out a startled gasp as he pulled over but Todd cautioned him not to over-react.

“Don’t forget Jack and the Mayor. This might be where they were attacked. It doesn’t mean Marisol’s not safe.”

Cory nodded but he still took his pistol from his belt. He noticed Todd and John had their water rifles out as well. They went up the steps slowly, alert for any dangers.

Movement caught Cory’s eye and he turned, already bringing the pistol up as the figure spoke.

“Miles? Is that you?” Travers’s voice. The shadowy figure moved again, raising its arms into a shooting position.

“It’s us Chief. We’re okay. And I think the...the problem is over.”

“Jesus, I hope so.” Travers lowered his gun and stepped into the light. “After you left that cave, all the...all those
things
suddenly stopped moving. Just stood there as I shot them. When I was done, I got your girl up and walking and we went back to my car. Drove here. I put her on the couch in the waiting room and I’ve been watching her ever since.”

“She’s okay?” Cory tried to see around him.

“Yeah. Asleep or passed out, I can’t tell. C’mon. And then I want some answers.”

“We’ve got answers but you might not believe them,” John said. said “I’m still not sure I do.”

Marisol lay on a well-worn, fake-leather office sofa that screamed Ikea. She had her head down and her arms wrapped around herself, even though the temperature in the office had to be in the eighties, thanks to the broken door.

Cory knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Marisol? Hey, honey, you awake?”

Faster than he imagined possible, she sprang up and slammed both hands into Cory’s chest, sending him hard into a coffee table. Magazines flew into the air and both the table and Cory slid across the floor until they crashed against the opposite wall.

Without pausing, Marisol leaped from the couch onto Chief Travers and sank her teeth into the side of his neck. Blood sprayed out in two distinct arcs, one splattering across Todd’s face and chest and the other decorating the door to the County Clerk’s office.

Travers let out a scream that turned into a bubbling whistle as Marisol pulled her head away, taking a huge piece of his neck with it. Inside the gaping hole, Travers’ shredded windpipe emitted frothy red bubbles with each breath he tried to take.

Marisol let go of his body and it fell to the floor, where it twitched and jerked as his brain struggled for oxygen.

With an animal growl, Marisol ran past John and Todd and into the main hallway.

“Hurry!” Cory fought his way free from the magazines and stood up. “We can’t let her get away.”

“What about...?” Todd pointed at Chief Travers, who’d stopped moving.

“It’s too late. But we can stop her from hurting anyone else.”

Cory ran down the hall and out the front door, his mind awhirl from everything that had happened.
What was wrong with Marisol? She couldn’t be possessed; people always died when a Shade entered them. Or did they? Maybe death didn’t happen instantly. Maybe that’s why she’d been sick and weak. It wasn’t shock, it was the Shade taking her over.

He remembered the tendrils poking at her mouth and nose when they’d found her. Had it infected her? He’d thought they’d destroyed it in time. Was she a full zombie now, or on her way to becoming one?

Will I have to kill her?

Did he have it in him to do it? If she was possessed, it seemed unavoidable. His stomach churned at the thought, even as he took the Town Hall steps two at a time.

He never saw her come around from behind the side of the cement-and-brick staircase.

Marisol’s shoulder hit him right in the ribs, sending him hard onto the sidewalk. His gun flew from his hand, went spinning across the concrete path. Fire filled his chest as he fought to breathe. She appeared over him, her face deathly gray in the glow of the streetlights. The same lights turned the arcing waters of the Fireman’s Memorial Fountain into a silver sculpture behind her.

Footsteps pounded down the cement and Marisol looked up and away for a moment. Taking advantage of her distraction, Cory rolled away, each movement sending fresh agony through his right side, along with a grinding feeling that let him know he’d cracked or broken at least one rib.

He got to his knees just as Todd and John reached them.

“What do we do?” Todd asked.

Cory was about to say he had no idea, when cool moisture drifted across the back of his neck.

And he had a sudden, desperate idea.

“Todd! The fountain. Bless the water!”

Without hesitation, Todd ran to the fountain and dipped his hand into it.

“O Lord, hear my prayer, and pour forth your blessing. May this water be endowed with your grace and serve to cast out demons and banish disease. May everything that this water touches be delivered from all that is unclean and hurtful; through your Holy name. Amen.”

As he finished the prayer, Todd pulled a Communion wafer from his pocket and dropped it into the water.

Although he felt weaker than he ever had in his adult life, Cory summoned his last bit of strength and charged Marisol, who was making her way towards Todd. He hit her right in the back and landed on top of her, unable to hold back a scream as something else snapped inside him.