Chapter 1: The Graveyard

[continued]

An agonizing scream erupt from the forest line. Screechers, she said. Out of the corner of her eye, Kacey could she a small shadow hiding behind a gravestone, and a wave of relief swept over her. It was the whites of Masons eyes that were then telling her to be quiet. Kacey dipped behind the nearest gravestone and peeked around the side.

She shoulda known this would happen. Screechers bring more Screechers and the other kinds too. There’s only a matter of time before this Graveyard comes to life again.

With her eyes trained on the body jerking its way towards them, Kacey whispers toward Mason, “Did you bring your knife?”

The boy’s eyes were held wide with fear. He reached for his belt and pulled out a silver dagger and shakenly placed it in Kacey’s outstretched hand. Without looking, she grasped the blade and ran straight towards the Screecher. The bloody figure grew in size the closer she got to it, a stale aura of dry piss weaving thru her nose. At the very last moment, before Kacey collided with the Screecher, it looked-up directly at her. The streaks of blood weeping from its blood-shot eyes. Kacey used her momentum to throw her shoulder into the middle-aged man and they both fell onto the ground. She sliced her knife across its throat– to stop the screaming. Then she plunged the knife under its jaw and with both hands, she pulled up, taking its jaw with her. There wouldn’t be enough time to grab the gas (where is that thing?) and torch this fucker. Rather, she settled with breaking its legs. By the time she came back to Mason, he was already standing up with his wits back about him.

“I’m sorry, I freaked out.” He had a bubble in his throat.

She was careful not to get any blood on him and managed to plant a kiss on his forehead. With twilight in its final stage, she could still see the tears shinning down his baby face. Sometimes she forgets he’s only 9 years old. Next week he’ll be turning 10. When she was his age, she was excited about going to shopping malls and toy shops. This boy was growing up with guts, guts, and more guts.

Kacey hands him back the dagger after wiping the blood on the back of her pants. “Thanks, again.”

He tucked it back into his belt, “We better go before–“

He couldn’t finish that sentence because there was a chorus of screams coming from all around them. Blood-drenched screams that sounded more like twisting metal. The earth began to hum and beat like it was breathing under their feet. In the moonlight, they could see bleached bones sprouting from the graves like alfalfa.

Mason quickly returned the blade to Kacey and latched on to her side. He wiped the tears from his eyes and put on his game face. He glanced around for the red gas can Kacey had used before.

“What are you doing?” She asked, panic tainting the sound of her voice.

“We need a distraction in order to –eureka!” Mason ran towards the abandoned gas can and made it back to Kacey. He tried asking her for a lighter but the Screechers were getting closer and closer, piercing their ears with their hoarse wail.

Kacey understood. She used her teeth to rip off her shirt sleeve and then grabbed the gas can from Mason. She quickly dipped one end of the fabric into the nozzle, holding her lighter at the other end. Mason held up his tiny fingers to count down… 4… 3… 2… 1.

Kacey lit the fuse and placed the gas can on the ground. She pointed towards the mausoleum and Mason started running. As Kacey followed after him, an arm popped out of a grave and snapped around her ankle. Stretched across two mounds, she used her heel to slam against the wrist of the newborn dead. Beside her, the growing fire crawled up the hose and consumed the gas can. Any moment now, it would explode. Kacey couldn’t get up faster than two more hands that popped-up out the dirt and hugged her across the chest. Her ears were beginning to bleed from the Screechers scream.

That was when the gas can erupt…

[to be continued]

Chapter 1: The Graveyard

Kacey lit the grave where the dead had just risen. She poured more gasoline over two graves as rotten flesh began to break the surface. Flicking her cigarette, the fire bursts alive all at once and settles down as it eats up the fuel. The fire dances in her eyes, reading the tombstone Kacey just torched.

“Poor kid.”

Mason had made a sudden appearance behind Kacey, startling her enough to jolt her out of her trance. “Why aren’t you back at the camp?”

“I was worried ’bout cha’.” Mason reached back and jumped his butt on top a tombstone. “Heard one of ’em screechers not too long ago, too.”

“It’s alright. I handled it.” Her eyes moved back to the flames. The fire was almost gone by now. Just a blue-licking blaze whatever gas it can find.

“I came to make sure you’re alright.”

The sweet boy smiled his toothy grin with that black hole where his left canine once been. Every now and again, air’d sneak out while he talked so his southern drawl had a soft whistle to it. Who knows when his tooth will grow back. It’s been months. Ever since they left the city…

“You thinkin’ bout Kelly?”

“No, why you say that?”

“When you look sad like that, it’s cuz you’re thinkin’ ’bout ’em.” He said this while kicking his feet off the stone like drumsticks.

“Well, I wasn’t this time,” she hangs her arm around the boy and ruffles up his auburn hair. “And you wanna know somethin’ else?”

He scrunched his freckled nose.

“This face ain’t sad, hun.” She said, lookin’ into his soft-blue eyes. “This is the face you’ll be makin’ when I beat you back to the camp!”

“Not if I make it there first!”

Kacey pulls Mason back off the tomb so he falls back on to the bed of grass. “Last one’s a rotten egg!”

Kacey ran forward with the momentum of a cross-country runner. She’d often forget about her life before all this. Waking up early, making coffee, taking Bailey out for her morning walk. Sometimes she’d remember Bailey when they’d run into packs of wild dogs. Maybe Bailey’s out there still, leading a pack of her own. Someday, they’ll all have to rebuild their lives like they used to be. Hopefully that day isn’t too far away.

Mason’s footsteps couldn’t be heard behind her. Kacey glanced back to see she was alone in the graveyard. The spot she and Mason were at before was empty; a small pillar of smoke rising from the charred grass.

“Mason?” She called out, “Where’d you go, bud?”

There was no reply. Only the sound of the US flag, wiping in the sharp breeze. The sound it made smacking the metal flagpole was a thudding thunder.

“Mason!” Kacey called out again, looking out towards the graveyards edge. Squinting her eyes from the setting sun, for a moment, she could she the boy standing by the treeline. “What are you doing over there? The camp’s this way, hun–!”

Before she could make sense of it, Kacey’s hand was pulled back and it wasn’t Mason. A brittle snap of dry bone, a petulant stench of death. By reflex, she swung at the Cankers head, swiping off a chunk of it’s left cheek. Kacey could see the Cankers inner-mouth, gnashing with black teeth. She noticed it chewing it’s brown-swollen tongue and decided to swing her arm back for good measure. It’s head twist off with a crispy crunch and rolled away, teeth still gnashing.

“Mason, where are you?”

The sun had gone down past the horizon. Twilight washed everything in a light blue, getting bluer. A bright, full moon debuted over the canopy of trees– Mason! Kacey ran back to where she’d last seen the boy but there was no sign of him. Her eyes caught something moving at the graveyards edge…

[to be continued]