Zombies in Springtime -- Chapter 7 -- Missing

"Dammit! Dammit! God Dammit! Gahhh!!"




Sephera woke up to the sound of her twin brother
cursing and stomping around upstairs. She walked upstairs to see what the
problem was.




Knock. Knock. 




"What? Who's there?"




"Leo - it's me. Let me in."




The door cracked open and Sephera stepped in. 




Standing in the middle of the room was Leopold
Campbell. Her twin brother -looking worse for the wear: tattered jeans,
dirty shirt covered in drool, messy hair, and what's that...9 fingers? Sephera's
mouth dropped.




"I don't know what happened Seph. I was
exhausted after school yesterday. I came home and crashed. Woke up this morning and my
damn finger is gone."




"I don't see how you could have just not
noticed that your finger was missing Leo.."




"Well - it's dead isn't it? I wouldn't have
felt it fall off."




"Right - but it's not every day one of our
appendages just falls off. You get into a sword fight and not remember? How are you
going to explain this at school? What if someone has your finger!? You've
got to start paying attention. We can't risk blowing our cover...I don't want
to move again bubba."




"...I'll find it. In the meantime I'll
bandage my hand to hide the missing 

finger - come up with some excuse...bit by a dog
maybe?"




Sephera scoffed. "Bit by a dog?" She
folded her arms in disapproval. "That'll have to do. For now." "By the way Leo,
I need to talk to you about Duane."




Duane was wrapping his hand with a bandage he
pulled out from the bottom drawer of his dresser. "Tell me in the car. We're
late for school." Leo picked up a blue backpack with his good hand and threw it at
his sister with a wink. "Load up the car. You're driving."




The twins went downstairs, fumbled into Leo's
car and coasted down the driveway. Sephera opened her mouth and began to speak,
"About Dua-"




"Let me stop you right there sis. Before
you say anything you're gonna 

regret...think about who's side you're on."
With that, Leo pulled out a 

cigarette, lit it off his bandage, blew a puff a
smoke into Sephera's face, and turned on the radio.




"...Michelle LaCantour reporting from KZMB
Spoon County issuing a breaking news report. Sheriff Winston Marley has been reported
missing. He is described as a middle-aged, black male, average height and build.
Last seen leaving the Sheriff's office last night around 9pm wearing
his streets: jeans, a green t-shirt, and brown boots. Anyone with information
is asked to call-" Click. Leo switched the station.




"One less person we have to worry about
sis. That's all you need to know. One 

less."




"Roxanne!" Sting's voice screeched on
the radio. "Put on the red light! Put on 

the red light!"




Sephera slunk down in her seat. She put on the
brake... "Get out" she said 

dryly. 




"Sis, look..."




"Get out now Leo! I'm not joking."




Leo laughed. He opened the door, put one leg
out, then the other. He stood 

outside the car and looked back inside, grabbing
the side of the door panel. 

"You made your point. D'ya feel good? Can I
get back in?"




Sephera stared him down. 




"I don't think you realize what you're
doing Seph."




Sephera reached over and slammed the door shut
from the inside. Leo watched as his brown Studebaker rolled on down the road
without him. He stomped his cigarette out on the pavement. "Can't even
give her the double deuce...stupid finger." He put his bandaged hand in his
coat pocket.




Sephera fought off tears as she watched the
figure of her twin brother disappear from her rearview mirror. 

Zombies in Springtime -- Chapter 6 -- Once You Go Gray, You Stay

Zombies in Springtime

Chapter 6 - Once You Go Gray, You Stay


It was forty-seven minutes past midnight as Duane stumbled through the front door of the Campbell estate. He walked by the kitchen to reach the stairs in the next room. As his foot hit the first step, he looked back to the kitchen table to find that his wife Vera had waited up for him. His eyes met hers, and immediately she knew what had happened earlier that evening. Vera had the unique ability to be able to see into the pasts of whomever she was thinking about…a kind of power that more often than not, is absolutely worthless, unless she was wondering whether Duane’s sister Emily did in fact borrow her favorite shoes without asking – she did…but, I mean really…

Vera dared not tell Charles what Duane had done. She was afraid that Charles would kick them out of the house. The Campbell’s were more than their adoptive family, they were their protection, and Charles was like their father. Hmm...Charles… she thought. Charles had a short temper and could be a real jerk. Nevertheless, she still cared about him and was upset that Duane had compromised their position in the Campbell house.

“We were dying Duane…Mr. and Mrs. Campbell saved us, can’t you see that? The only thing they asked in return is that we promise not to attack humans. What do you think Charles is going to do if he finds out?”

“Charlie is a dumbass Vera, and so are you. This is what we’re supposed to do. This is how we sustain ourselves, this is how we survive. We sure as hell can’t live off of beets, or whatever it is you’ve got there. We need to eat humans, and Charlie knows that. You know that.”

Vera sat there thinking, her mind drifted.

It was 1789. Charles Campbell was brooding over a small figure laying on a mat in the middle of the floor. On it was the almost lifeless body of his son Michael. Michael had been sick for years, but no doctor had been able to determine what was wrong with him. His muscles were weak and he struggled to force out every small breath. The disease had also managed to spread to his brainstem, causing severe mental damage, limiting even his most formal of motor functions.

One day, Charles was approached by a man named Dr. Floyd Anderson. Dr. Anderson was a tall, slender man with wild brown hair which flew in all directions. He was the kind of guy who always looked like he was stoned, even though you know he probably wasn’t, but you could never really be sure, and you always acted kinda weird around him because of it. Anyway, he looked like a nut-bar. He told Charles that he had developed the cure for Michael’s condition, and that he would cure him for no charge as long as Charles promised not to tell anyone. Charles, of course accepted Dr. Anderson’s offer in a desperate attempt to save his son’s life.

At first, Michael seemed to get better. He returned to school that fall and quickly became one of the teacher’s favorite students. It was only around spring that his symptoms started returning…His breathing became tight, he started walking slower and with a limp, he started to show decreased brain activity again, and his skin turned a dark shade of gray. His teacher, Mr. Stoker was the first to notice this, and addressed Michael after class one afternoon.

“Michael? Michael, may I speak with you?”

“Gruuuaaah,” Michael moaned.

“Michael, I’ve noticed you’ve been acting rather strange. You haven’t been participating in class recently, and you’re usually the first to respond. Is something the matter at home?”

Michael limped over to Mr. Stoker, arms outstretched, moaning. Mr. Stoker was taken aback.

“Michael, what exactly is going on here?” He asked, taking careful steps backward until he was flush against the wall.

Michael sank his teeth into Mr. Stoker’s neck, ripping out his jugular vein. Some of the other boys in the class grabbed Michael and tried to subdue him. One boy grabbed Michael's arms and spun them around his back like you would do to handcuff a criminal. Michael moaned. There was a loud crisp, and some crackling as the brave young boy twisted the arms of the poor empty soul. Michael's arms snapped off, and he broke free. The other boys stood in disbelief watching the blood of their teacher flow across the floor, his body twitching. Michael limped on home as if nothing had happened. His arms crept behind him, trying to catch up to his body.

Charles met his son at the door. Shocked to see his mouth stained with blood, he shouted “Michael! What in God’s name have you done?”

But the hunger for human flesh overpowered Michael, and he bit into his father’s arm. Charles sat nursing his wound in silence as his son stood over him – out of seemingly nowhere, a shotgun blast ripped through Michael’s body. The boys from the school had alerted the authorities who had arrived at the Campbell house just in time.

Minutes go by; Charles is being looked over by a woman named Dana, who was someone that had just enough medical training to seem barely competent. “How does that feel now?” she asked.

“Mrrmmff…” Charles responded, unable to produce a proper sentence.

The investigators noticed Michael’s body starting to regroup and put itself back together. They looked back to where Charles and Dana had been to warn them – they were gone...

Vera is suddenly stirred back to the present. She had been sitting at the table, mouth agape, staring blankly at nothing for hours, and she looked like an idiot. Her brother Albert had been shooting spitballs at her and was now setting her limbs on fire.

“God damn you, Albert! I lost my train of thought!”

Zombies in Springtime -- Chapter 5 -- In the Flesh?

Zombies in Springtime

Chapter 5 - In the Flesh?

It was a cold spring night; a few scattered black clouds drifted wearily across an otherwise blank sky. Strange creatures howled at the beckoning crescent moon. Sephera Campbell looked out her bedroom window meditatively. She knew she would have to be careful if she went out tonight. It was smart to stay indoors in Spoon County when a crescent moon was out, though not many people believed that anymore. The Campbell’s lived in a large wooden house in the middle of the woods. There was a field behind the house, and an abandoned farmhouse off to the side that she had never been in. The Campbell house was hundreds of years old, the roof was caving in, and the floors creaked…it smelled of death. Imagine the worst shit you’ve ever had. Now imagine that shit, only you rubbed it all over a dead guy, and then someone with a weak stomach threw up on him right after, and then you both ran away and didn’t clean it.

Sephera slipped out of the shit house unnoticed, to go for a walk. She was a very introverted girl and she lived in a house with eight other very extroverted people. She needed nights like this to get away and think. She slowly strolled through the field behind her house, stopping to dance through the flowers. They were lilies. She plucked one and put it in her hair. Sephera took walks like this often. She by no means lived a “normal” life, not by any stretch of the imagination. Although, perhaps it should be mentioned that the words “lived” and “life” should be taken lightly. She had already “lived” her life. She had already died. These are the kinds of things she thought about on her walks.

Sephera continued her walk down into the woods. She sat under a large Magnolia tree and began to write in a small green notebook. After she had written several pages, she arose to investigate a strange noise. She delved deeper into the woods when she stumbled upon her brother in law, Duane. Duane was a stocky blonde man with a ponytail and a thick beard. Duane was hovering over a bloody corpse that lay on the ground. She thought it looked like the body of a young man. The head had been torn off, the torso had been ripped open. Duane was slobbering all over the brain. He crammed it in his mouth and started gnawing on it. It was disgusting, like watching a really fat guy eat after not having eaten in 2 hours.

“Duane…what the fuck!?” she said, making her best attempt to speak in an assertive tone.

Duane slowly took the brain out of his mouth and walked over to Sephera. “No worries girly, he was dead when I found him.”

“Really, Duane?” she scoffed sarcastically.

“No, I’m lying. I picked him out, out of a huge group of people actually…I followed him home, and I broke into his house. I beat him over the head with a tire iron and dragged him back here. He was very much alive until I got to him. In fact…”

Sephera interrupted him. “Why? Why did you do that? How?...”

Plop! Duane had sent the brain flying through the air, hitting Sephera in the face.

“Tell me you don’t feel that Sephera. Tell me you don't feel the hunger for human flesh. Skin, Brains, Hearts. It’s natural. It’s who we are.”

Sephera did feel it, though she didn’t want to admit it. She knew she shouldn't act on those impulses. After all, she had been human once. She struggles for a moment before responding.

“This is egregious! This is egregious!!” She storms off, waving her hands in the air frantically.

Duane walked back to the mangled body and violently thrust his arms into the rib cage and around the heart. He tore it out savagely and began to bite into it as if it were an apple. Sephera glanced back into the woods and met Duane’s eye line, just as his teeth sank into the tasty pericardial tissue. She shook her head in disgust and continued the long walk back to the house and went upstairs to her room.

Sephera now lay in bed thinking. She was hungry...