Box of Zombies: Rise of the Dead Volumes 1-3 (2 page)

FOUR

THE LITTLE GIRL

Savannah moved to the window and peered through the murky glass. A little girl flitted across the bald lawn. She sang a little rhyme, her shrill little-girl voice muffled and barely audible. She ran back the other way, slower, allowing Savannah to really see her. She looked to be no more than seven. Blonde hair that looked as though it had never seen a brush haloed her cherubic, dirty face. A filthy dress, too small, hung high above her scabby knees. Mud caked her bare feet. Savannah’s heart broke for the child, to live in such conditions. Then again, who was she to judge? A poor child who was loved was better off than a wealthy one who was neglected. She knew that from experience.

Taking up her jar, Savannah walked out onto the porch. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she poured the tea into the tangle of ivy. She half-expected the leaves to wither and die instantly just like in one of those old
Looney Toons
cartoons, but nothing happened.

She sat down on the porch steps and watched the little girl as she spun in the yard, dancing. “Hello?” she called.

The child stopped abruptly, swaying, apparently dizzy from spinning. She jerked her face toward Savannah. “Who are you?” She approached cautiously.

“I’m Savannah. My friend and I are waiting for a tow truck. Our car died.”

A small spider made the mistake of crawling too close to the kid’s toe. She kneeled, squashed it with her thumb, and wiped the little streak of red on her already nasty dress.

“I’m Lacy.” She gave Savannah a long, hard look. “You look funny.”

Savannah had heard it before. “I know. But it’s good to be different.”

“I guess so,” Lacy said. Then she added, “My brother
Mikey’s different. He’s dead. That’s different.”

“I’m sorry,” Savannah replied automatically. She frowned, trying to remember what Mamma had said—something to the effect of meeting
Mikey soon. “Wait. Mikey’s not here?”

Twirling her tangles of hair, Lacy nodded her head. “
Mikey’s here. He came back. Daddy got mad at him and hit him hard enough to make him dead. But he came back.”

Something in the back of Savannah’s mind knew she shouldn’t, but she pressed on. “Came back. How’d he come back?”

“Johnny and Mamma and Uncle Levi kilt Kracker and took his blood. They drew some funny shapes on the ground around Mikey and said some words I never heard before.”

The skin on Savannah’s arms puckered into gooseflesh and she rubbed them to warm herself, although it was over eighty degrees where she was sitting.

“Who’s Kracker?”

“
Kracker was my billy goat.” She sighed. “They din’t bring Daddy back because Daddy was mean most of the time. Besides, Mikey had already messed him up too much. His face was gone and he had a hole in his tummy. Stuff was coming out. Momma says he’s better off in the ground.”

She gave Savannah another appraising look. “You look funny.”

“I know.” Her words sounded hollow and weak in her own ears. Lacy skipped away and vanished around the side of the house.

Morgan appeared, unsteady on her feet. “Scaring little kids now, Monster?” She plopped down on the step next to her.

“I think it’s the other way around,” Savannah said. She shooed a fly that buzzed around her face. “I wonder if we should start walking. I don’t have a good feeling about these people.”

“Shit. If anything, they should be afraid of you,” Morgan said, her speech slurring. “Well, I’m not fucking walking if that’s what you’re getting at. I’m so tired.” She yawned and lay back on the porch. “Wow. These people need to do something about all these spiders and shit.” After a moment, she closed her eyes.

Annoyed, Savannah nudged Morgan’s leg. No response. She then leaned over and slapped Morgan’s face hard.

Morgan jumped awake. “What the
hell’d you hit me for?”

“I think they put something in that tea.”

“Maybe he spiked it. Maybe it was moonshine.” Morgan’s words were slow and sluggish.

“No. I think it was something more than moonshine.” Savannah leaned close enough to press her lips to the cup of Morgan’s ear. “I’m getting fucking scared. There’s something weird going on here,” she whispered.

“You two makin’ out?” Johnny drawled.

He kneeled down, holding out two fresh jars of cloudy tea.

“That tow truck should be here before very long,” he told them, sitting down. The outside of his thigh pressed the outside if Savannah’s, uncomfortably close. She edged away slightly.

Savannah put her jar aside, but Morgan struggled back upright and took her glass. Savannah shot her a look—don’t drink that—but Morgan was stupid when in the company of hot guys. She brought the tea up, grinned around the glass,
then took a long drink.

She leaned against Savannah, pushing her against Johnny’s hard shoulder. “You know, Monster thinks you put something in our drinks.”

Johnny laughed. “She don’t trust us country folk, huh?”

Savannah got to her feet. “Morgan …”

“It’s okay,” Johnny said, his voice practically dripping with sugar. “I did put something in your drinks. Lemon.”

Morgan giggled drunkenly and fell against Johnny’s side. He caught her and slid his arm around her shoulder, his eyes traveling up and down Savannah’s slim frame. His eyes rested on hers for a long moment and she didn’t look away, although she wanted to.

“Drink your tea, Monster,” he said, his voice growing hard.

“I don’t drink tea. Sorry.”

“Your friend seems to like hers.”

“My friend’s an idiot. I’m not.”

“We’ll see,” Johnny said. He got to his feet, pulling Savannah up by the hand. “And yeah, I added a little of my uncle’s white liquor. Y’all seemed tense. I just wanted to loosen you up while you waited on the tow.” He placed his arm around Morgan to steady her. “Obviously, Miss Morgan is a lightweight.”

“Am not!” Morgan whined.

Savannah watched this a moment, impatient with her friend and with the entire situation. “That little girl, Lacy? Is she your sister?”

“You see her?”

“She told me I look funny. Anyway, she mentioned Mikey. She said he died.”

“You believed her?” Johnny rolled his eyes.

“Well—”

“C’mon. I’ll let you see
Mikey. He’s round back.”

FIVE

MIKEY

The three of them cut through patches of knee-high weeds toward the sprawling backyard. A gnarled live oak cast a canopy of shade nearly as wide as a house itself. A tangle of bramble bushes bordered the far edge of the pool of shadow that reminded Savannah of a picture from one of her old fairy tales from when she was a girl. As Savannah moved closer, a stench like nothing she’d ever smelled hit her full in the face. Her gorge rose and she placed her hand over her mouth and nose. Her eyes watered.

Johnny noticed. “No, it
don’t smell too good out here.”

From the wide stretched limbs dangled the carcasses of animals Savannah couldn’t identify. Some were large enough to be deer or large dogs, others as small as house cats. All had been partially devoured—the middles ripped out, drained of blood.

“What’s this?” 

“It’s a bitch to keep
Mikey fed,” Johnny said. “He’s a picky fucker.”

Morgan stumbled away from Johnny’s side. “It’s so nasty!” She doubled over, her hands on her knees and retched.

Savannah turned from her friend just in time to see a flash of movement in the deepening shadows of the oak and the vines of brambles. “What—”

Before she could get the words out, a figure dashed toward her. A flash of graying flesh and dingy teeth and she screamed.

As quickly as the man hurled toward her, he flew backward, sprawling like a bag of sand. The heavy, metallic clank of a chain rivaled his raging cries.

“He can’t get you, don’t worry. Just don’t get any closer,” Johnny said.

Savannah realized the deathly, rotten stench that had taken her breath wasn’t the dried animal carcasses, but the rotting creature that clumsily climbed to his feet. He staggered toward Savannah again and this time she stood her ground, unable to look away. His movements were awkward as if he didn’t have complete control over his limbs. But there was something else. He was familiar. His peeling face could’ve been cute. His dirty teeth were perfectly straight, his hair thick and dark, but filthy and frazzled.

Before she could ask, Morgan had regained what little of her composure she had left and wobbled back over to Johnny’s side. “What the hell? Are you guys twins?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said. “Identical.”

“Not quite,” Morgan whispered. “Is he one of those geeks? You know, like at a sideshow?”

“Hell, no,” Johnny said. “Ain’t no such things as geeks.” He yanked the leg from what was left of a cat hanging from the oak and tossed it to the slumping, gray-faced man. “Be good in front of our new friends, Mikey.”

Mikey
snatched the torn limb from the ground and greedily gnawed at it, ripping the fur away, and spitting it out.

“He’s a zombie,” Johnny announced proudly. “Mamma, Uncle Levi and me, we brought ’
im back.”

“Shit, no!” Morgan cried. Her words were so slurred, it sounded like one word.

“Yep. We keep him chained up to keep him from running off. He’d hurt somebody, otherwise. Or else somebody would kill him. Again.”

Savannah shook her head. “This is bullshit. You bumpkins get off on scaring people, don’t you?”

“You seen too many horror movies, Monster,” Johnny said. “Daddy got too drunk one night and shoved Mikey. Mikey slammed his forehead on the doorjamb and he just didn’t wake up. He died before sunup, and Mamma just about died herself.” Johnny touched Morgan’s hair and winked. Savannah wondered just when they were going to wander off behind the barn to do the nasty. Part of her considered just letting it happen. Sure, that would be a shitty friend, but what the hell?

“Turnabout is fair play, they say,” Johnny went on. “Daddy kilt
Mikey first and Mikey kilt him for good.”

SIX

THINGS REALLY GO SOUTH

Always the lady, Morgan announced her desperate need to take a piss and they headed back to the house, leaving Mikey lurching on the end of his chain and grunting in the waning light.

There was no sign of the tow truck. Savannah shot nervous glances toward the road out front, hoping to see some headlights carving the shadows. Nothing.

Inside, Mamma thundered around the kitchen, cooking something that was impossible to identify by smell alone. The oily, fried stink of it permeated the heavy air, bringing on a wave of nausea. “I’ll just wait on the porch,” Savannah muttered, as Morgan staggered back down the dark hallway toward the bathroom.

After a few moments, Morgan reemerged. She plopped down on the porch steps like her muscles had lost all strength. “That tea fucked me up, Monster.”

“Told you not to drink it.” Savannah glanced toward the door to make sure they were alone. “Listen to me, Morgan. I really think we’re in trouble here. Everything’s just too bizarre. Don’t go off anywhere with Johnny. Do you hear me? Don’t go off with him alone.”

Morgan nodded like a stupid kid. “Promise.” Then she giggled softly.

“I’m going to the restroom. Don’t move a muscle while I’m gone.”

“Can I blink?”

“No,” Savannah said. “Don’t even blink.” She sighed and muttered, “Fucking retard.”

She flicked on a single bare
lightbulb that swung from the ceiling and piecing light flooded her eyes, making them smart a moment. The bathroom was an incomprehensible mess of grime and stacks of disgusting old crime and girly magazines. The toilet looked as though it had never been cleaned and rarely flushed. Brown stains painted the pot and dark yellow piss splatters dotted the seat, walls and floor. The soles of Savannah’s shoes stuck and peeled up as she stepped across the cracked tile.

“Holy fuck,” she said, unzipping her jeans. She hovered her ass over the toilet, careful not to touch anything.

Suddenly Johnny strolled in.

“What the hell?” she cried. She stood up and hurriedly fumbled with her zipper.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing,” Johnny said.

A sharp sting in her arm and she glanced down, horrified. Johnny held a hypodermic needle up, proudly displaying it to her.

“You didn’t want to make this easy, did you? You could’ve just drank your tea like your slutty little friend. But no. Had to be difficult, didn’t you?”

Savannah’s fingers didn’t work to close up her jeans. Her tongue didn’t work when she tried to protest. She collapsed against Johnny’s hard chest and started sinking to the floor. She felt as if she had left her body and was somehow floating above, looking down, watching herself as if she were watching a bad film.

With what little consciousness and strength she had left, she caught the edge of the sink and saved herself from hitting the floor. She stumbled toward the bathroom door, the world spinning before her. Johnny stalked behind her, laughing.

A howl of terror tore through the house and Morgan crashed against her from behind, making both women fall. Savannah turned onto her back to see Morgan’s practically nude body sprawled on the floor next to her.

A scrawny man plodded down the hall after her, a hate-filled scowl making his lined face even uglier and more sinister than it already was. “Get back in here, little bitch. I ain’t finished with you yet!” he bellowed as he closed up his pants.

“Uncle Levi, that was going to be my piece of ass,” Johnny said. “Sure as hell
ain’t gonna want her now.”

“She
ain’t no good, anyways,” Uncle Levi said. He bent over and grabbed a handful of Morgan’s hair, making the girl scream again. “She’s too damn noisy.”

Just behind the raging Uncle Levi, a door opened a few inches. A small, pale face appeared in the shadows.
The little girl from the yard. Lacy.

“Get the hell back in your room, Lacy,” Johnny shouted. “
Mamma’ll holler when dinner’s down.”

The door closed.

Savannah scooted backward, trying to comprehend what was happening. This had to be a nightmare. Uncle Levi moved closer, the odor of tobacco and days of sweat taking her breath for a moment. Unable to think of anything else to do, she pulled her knees up to her chest and then she thrust both feet out and upward, connecting with Uncle Levi’s knees.

Bellowing with rage and pain, he fell against the wall, losing his grip on Morgan’s hair.

“We got us a fighter here,” Johnny said. He laughed down at Savannah, his face a smear of light and shadow.

Morgan shot into the living room, staggering and almost losing her balance again. Johnny wrapped his fingers around Savannah’s bicep, digging them painfully into her flesh. He pulled her up and shoved her toward Morgan.

Morgan turned away and then she spun back around to face the two crazed hillbillies. Miraculously, she’d found a rusty pair of hedge trimmers in a corner. She stabbed the air ahead of her. “Stay away!”

“We don’t have time for this shit, Johnny,” Levi growled. He hobbled forward on his injured knees. “Give me those blades, girl.”

Mamma appeared from the kitchen, wiping her sausage fingers on her apron. “What the hell are these two still doing in here? Mikey’s waiting.”

“Stay away,” Morgan said again, tears streaming down her face, mascara like bruises.

Johnny let go of Savannah’s arm and this time she did fall to the floor. Unable to scream, unable to move, she watched in horror as Johnny moved behind her best friend and snatched her head backward by her long hair. At that same moment, Uncle Levi tore the trimmers from her small hands.

He flipped them around in one motion and raised them up, opening the blades wide. He snapped them closed on Morgan’s neck.

The blades were pitifully dull and the first squeeze carved into the smooth skin of her throat, opening her flesh like a grinning rictus. Blood spouted into the air.

“You’re going to clean that mess up,” Mamma griped.

Morgan clawed at the blades, her face contorted into a look of utter horror. Uncle Levi forced the handles closed with an impatient grunt and Morgan’s head came off.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Her head rolled down her left shoulder and hit the wood floor, facedown, with a dull but solid thud.

Savannah gasped. That was all for which she had enough breath. Her mind raced with adrenaline. There was nothing left but getting out of there. Surviving. Nothing and nobody else mattered. She struggled to her feet, using the wall as a brace, but fell again. Her body didn’t work properly. It wouldn’t cooperate with what her mind was telling it. Her legs were made of rubber.

She thought she saw Johnny smile at her just before the heel of his boot came down on her face. Then everything was black.