Texas Funeral (3 page)

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Authors: Jack Batcher

BOOK: Texas Funeral
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12

Kilgore Police Chief Robert Jones,
pulled his
police cruiser into the emergency room parking lot of
Kilgore Memorial Hospital. He was called there in the
middle of the night because of what was described to him
by Officer Jose Martinez, as a plague of biblical
proportions. The Chief had to come and see what was
going on, because Officer Martinez, was prone to over
exaggerations of minor instances. In this case though,
Officer Martinez was gravely understating the horror show
at the hospital.

Chief Jones’s passenger side door opened quickly
and shut just as fast when Officer Marta Garcia, jumped
into the police cruiser. She smacked and slapped at the flies
crawling on her arms, legs, and face. She pulled flies out of
her hair.

“Chief Jones,” Officer Garcia said, “It is insane out
there. All these damn flies. So many people are dead, and
have no heads!”

“No heads?” Chief Jones asked.

“Yes, no heads,” Officer Garcia said, “There is
blood everywhere inside the hospital. Looks like a
massacre took place in there. I’ve never seen anything like
it my life. These damn flies keep biting me!”

Chief Jones smacked a fly on his face, and then
another that he felt crawling on the back of his neck.
Officer Marta noticed on her right forearm, that something
was crawling under her skin. She felt something crawling
on her left leg. It was big enough to be visible through her
pants. She smacked it, but it only stopped for a second, and
then began to creep again. Chief Jones took out his pocket
knife and cut her pants leg where the creeping bulge was.
There was something moving in her left thigh, under her
skin.

“I don’t like any of this,” Chief Jones said, “Marta,
I want you to find Officer Martinez and Smith, and tell
them to head back to the station. I’m going to call the
Mayor. We are going to need some sort of help dealing
with this, but I don’t know from who. I’ll also call for a
doctor to help you at the station Marta. Now get going.”

“Yes sir,” Officer Garcia said, and got out of the
car.

Chief Jones watched Officer Marta Garcia as she
closed the car door. She took two steps from the car and
began to twitch. She staggered in a circle. Then she turned
back around and slammed her face into the cruisers
passenger side window. Chief Jones was stunned in
disbelief as she rammed her head against the window again.
Her face was mashed against the glass. Her right eyeball
burst like a boil and blood oozed out of the eye socket. She
seemed to be pulled back by an invisible force, and then
rammed her face into the glass again. This time the glass
cracked and pebbled.

Chief Jones started the police cruiser and sped
away. He stopped to look back at Officer Garcia. She
stumbled awkwardly. She let out a high pitched howl. Her
head dropped to the asphalt, followed by her body. Flies
came out of her corpse like a squadron of a thousand
fighter jets. Chief Jones smacked another fly off his hand.
He pulled his cell phone out of his left shirt pocket and
called Mayor Valdez.

13

Mayor Ricardo Valdez was
doing some late night
entertaining in the Mayoral Office of Kilgore Town Hall.
His old friend and saxophone player, Donald Mang, of
Lil’
Dickey Valdez and The Fireballs,
was visiting for the
weekend. They were trading shots of Mezcal, snorting
cocaine, and having fun with some local Kilgore hookers.
Donald Mang was creeping out a petite half black, half
Mexican blonde transvestite, who calls himself Churita.
Donald had him cornered and went on with his mad peyote
ramblings of philosophical junk. He was hard wired and
gnashing his teeth from too much powder.

The blaring horns of Johnny Cash’s
Ring of Fire
interrupted the party, as they blasted from Mayor Valdez’s
cell phone. The good Mayor was in the middle of snorting a
line of cocaine off of the firm right buttock of a redheaded
call girl, she went by the name Ginger. Ginger was laying
facedown on the oak wood desk in front of him. While,
underneath his desk a busty brunette of Mexican decent
was giving him a blowjob. He hadn’t bothered to get her
name, and if she told him, he didn’t remember it. Old rock
star habits are hard to break.

“Who the fuck could this be at this time of night?”
Mayor Valdez, grumbled picking up his phone to see who
was calling. “It’s the damn Chief of Police. Ginger, turn off
the music,” Ricardo slapped her on the ass to get her
moving off of the desk. The woman pleasuring him under
the desk stopped. He looked down at her and slurred,
“What are you stoppin’ for chica? You don’t have to stop.”
She gave him an awkward smile, then got back to work.

“There better have been a mass murder for you to
be calling me in the middle of the damn night Chief,”
Mayor Valdez said.

“Not a mass murder,” Chief Jones said, “But, the
excrement has definitely hit the air-conditioner. The bodies
are piling up everywhere.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?” Mayor

Valdez demanded.
“I’m here at the Hospital,” Chief Jones said, “There
are headless bodies, and swarms of flies everywhere.
We’ve got officers down”
“Did you say flies, Chief?”
“Yes,” Chief Jones said, “There must be a million
of them. These suckers bite too. That’s not all Mayor.”
“What else is there?”
“Main Street is filling up with people wandering
around like Zombies,” Chief Jones said, “Looks like an
episode of
The Walking Dead
.”

“Son of a bitch” Mayor Valdez said, “Chief, I want
you to find Ray Harris, that dang buzzard from Austin. I
think his experiment has got us fucked.”

“Yes sir,” Chief Jones said, then let out a high
pitched howl.

“Chief Jones!” Mayor Valdez, yelled into the
phone. All he could hear on the other end of the phone was
a loud buzzing sound. He hung up the phone.

Ginger, stumbled back from the bathroom. Her eyes
were dripping blood.
“What is the matter with you?” Mayor Valdez
asked, “Are you ok?”

The redheaded call girl let out a high pitched howl.
Donald Mang went into convulsions. Churita howled like a
wolf baying at a full moon. Donald, let out a high pitched
howl that sounded like a Mexican Bandito on the war path.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Mayor Valdez
said

Donald and Churita’s heads dropped to the floor. A
mass of black flies buzzed out of them. Their bodies
collapsed to the floor. Another high pitched howl came
from under the desk.

Mayor Valdez looked under the desk to find that the
hooker giving him head, had lost her head. His lap and legs
were covered with her blood, and flies had begun to buzz
all around him. Ginger had fallen to the floor and her head
had rolled off her shoulders, and a swarm of flies erupted
out of it. In a panic, Mayor Valdez jumped out of his seat
with his pants still down around his ankles. He wobbled
like a drunk penguin as fast as he could, while swatting
away the flies that were biting him. He finally made his
escape out the front door of Kilgore Town Hall. Mayor
Valdez looked around to see that everything was covered,
crawling, and buzzing with flies.

Zombie-esque Kilgorians were aimlessly wondering
Main Street. Mayor Valdez stood with his pants around his
ankles in a stunned bewilderment as men, women, and
children passed by him with their own twisted expressions
of horror on their face. Sylvia, his secretary, slowly passed
by him, her right eye dangling from its socket, and blood
trickled out of both sides of her mouth. Bill, the Kilgore
Fire Chief, trembled as he walked, he collapsed to the
ground and flies jettisoned out of him like a geyser.

Mayor Valdez felt a stiffness in his neck, his arms
and legs shook like a bad Elvis Presley impersonator. He
let out a high pitched howl, and collapsed to the ground.
His head rolled off his shoulders and on to the curb like a
bloody bowling ball. More flies burst from his skull to add
to the infestation of Kilgore.

“Dios Mio,” Carmela gasped,
after she was
startled by the thump, “What was that?”
“It seems like the sound came from outside,” I said.

Thump! Thump!

“Its really creeping me out Ray,” Carmela said with
a tremble of growing anxiety in her voice, “It sounds like
they are trying to break in. Do you think they know we are
in here?”

“I’m not sure Carmela,” I said trying to keep her
calm, “We will be alright, I don’t know why the people, or
um Zombies would come after us, but I blocked the doors,
and that glass is pretty thick.”

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Carmela screamed. Then the thumping began to
come from all sides of
The Road Kill Café.
The pounding
thumps on the glass were getting more rapid, like an off
beat climax of a bad Rock drum solo. The sounds echoed in
the dark café like thunder that wouldn’t end. The front
window pane of the café cracked. Carmela let out a
terrified shriek.

“Dios Mio, Dios Mio!” Carmela cried, “We are
trapped, Ray, what are we going to do?”
“I think we should get into the kitchen,” I said.

We grabbed the candles and the can of bug spray.
Then we quickly went through the silver kitchen doors. I
unplugged a freezer chest. Carmela and I pushed it in front
of the door. I then told Carmela to hold up her arms so that
she looked like the letter T, and then I sprayed her with
Raid
. She coughed through the cloud of bug spray. Then I
gave her the can so that she could spray me with the poison
too. I took the can back and sprayed around the silver
kitchen doors, and that was the last of the bug spray.

“Why are we doing this Ray?” Carmela asked,
coughing some more.
“You don’t want to get bitten by those flies, do
you?” I said, dropping the empty can in the garbage bin,
“Get turned into a Zombie?”
“Dios Mio, No,” Carmela said, “But, now what can
we do? We are out of bug spray”
“I’m hoping that in the morning, the Kilgore Vector
Control will spray some poison to kill the flies,” I said,
“But that seems highly unlikely at this point”

Then there was a loud crash of breaking glass that
came from
The Road Kill Café
dining room.

The combined deafening sounds
of the cafés
alarm sounding and the buzzing of flies followed the
breaking glass. I reacted quickly. I threw some papers in a
metal garbage can. I lit them on fire. I turned to Carmela
and ordered her into the walk-in freezer. Smoke began to
fill the kitchen. I grabbed the fire extinguisher. I closed the
door. The sprinkler system went off and water fell from the
ceiling through out
The Road Kill Café,
and in the walk-in
freezer too.

“Why did you do that Ray?” Carmela said, “We are
going to get eaten by flies, zombies, and now drown too?”
“It’s a simulated rain,” I explained, “The flies wont
come in if there is water falling. I didn’t realize that a
sprinkler would be in here too”
“I almost forgot,” Carmela said, “You’re the bug
guy. What’s the plan now?”
“Good question, Carmela,” I said, “I’m open to
suggestions. Right now I’m in freaked out survival mode.”
“Me too,” Carmela said, “We have to think of
something. My clothes are soaked and they are getting icy.”

With the walk-in freezer door closed, we were blind
and deaf to what was happening outside. Not my best
move, but I had to do something. Unfortunately, I reacted
instead of getting a good plan and taking action. Our
clothes were drenched and beginning to freeze. I have to
admit seeing Carmela with her wet dress clinging to her is
really distracting me from rational thought. Under different
circumstances I would be focused on how to get her out of
that dress. Damn it Ray! Think! If we stay in here we’ll get
hypothermia. If we go out there we’ll get bitten by deadly
flies, that’ll zombify us, and chew off our heads.

I decided to peek out the freezer door. I couldn’t use
the candle, because of all the water falling. I used the
flashlight on my iPhone. The light shown out the crack of
the door like car headlights shining on thick fog. I couldn’t
see shit! It was all smoke and darkness. I heard the
Kilgorian Zombies banging on the kitchen door. The
freezer chest in front of it was not holding its ground well
at all. I should’ve jammed the wheels under it. I did not
hear any flies buzzing around, but I knew that wouldn’t last
long.

I looked at Carmela. Her lower lip was trembling,
and turning blue from the cold. She looked terrified. If I
look as cold as she does, we won’t last much longer. We
are going to have to make a break for it. Run out to my car
and get as far from Kilgore as possible.

“Ray,” Carmela said with chattering teeth, “What
are we going to do?”
“We are going to run out to my car,” I said, taking
her hand and leading her towards the door, “You hold the
flashlight, I’ll spray the fire extinguisher to chase away the
flies. Are you ready Carmela?”
“Dios Mio,” Carmela whispered.
“Go Now. Head towards the back door,” I said.
I pushed open the
walk-in freezer door. Carmela
hesitated when the Zombies banging on the kitchen door
got more aggressive. I pushed her to move forward. We
fumbled our way through the smoky darkness. Eventually
we made it to the back door of
The Road Kill Café
. I slowly
cracked open the back door and peered out to see what was
going on outside. The water from the café sprinkler system
stopped falling. A loud metallic clang came from behind
us, and a crescendoing hum of buzzing flies came with it.

I shot a blast of the fire extinguisher behind us.
Then I flung open the back door and shot a blast in front of
us. I grabbed Carmela’s right hand and practically dragged
her out of the café and down the steps. We dashed around
the corner to the parking lot. I kept blasting out quick shots
from the fire extinguisher at the flies. We got to my
El
Camino
and I chased away the flies with the fire
extinguisher. I opened the passenger door for Carmela. She
jumped in. I slammed the door shut. I slid across the hood
of the car like Bo Duke, from
the Dukes of Hazard,
and
quickly got into my car.

“Are you ok?”
“Yes,” Carmela said, “I think so. Just get us
out of here.”

I turned the key to start the car. The cars starter
cranked, but nothing happened. I tried again. I turned the
key, the engine revved, and the stereo came on. The
staccato rhythm of
The Doors
song
5 to 1
played, and the
bands singer, Jim Morrison, predicted our future as he sang
“Five to one, baby, one in five, no one here gets out
alive…”

Carmela shut off the radio, with a stab of her finger
to the power button, as flies began to fill the windshield.
Then they crawled to cover the side windows. I looked
behind us, and the back window was crawling too. I put the
car in reverse and backed up slowly. Turning on the
windshield wipers, they moved like there were heavy snow
on them. It eventually shoved the dense mass of flies away,
but they landed back on the window just as quickly as they
were pushed off. I was able to see enough to get going.

We were blocked by the Zombies aimlessly
wondering around on Main Street. I slowly drove my car
through them, bumping them out of the way. I started to
drive us out of Kilgore. As we made our way West on Main
Street, we saw the destruction the Phorid Fly infestation
had created. There were broken store front windows,
crashed cars, and headless bodies scattered everywhere. All
the buildings and street lamps were covered with flies. I
could not shake the dreadful feelings of my responsibility
for what has happened here in Kilgore, and the ripple
effects which appear to be disastrously insurmountable.

An Air-horn siren began to wail over the deafening
buzz of the flies.
“Now what the hell is happening?”
I said.
“That’s the Tornado Warning Siren,” Carmela said,

“There must be a tornado coming.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, “Which way
do we go to avoid that?”
“There’s no telling Ray,” Carmela said, “Its just a
warning, but it can show up anywhere. It’s a signal to go
hide.”
“That’s what I want to do,” I said.

An infested Kilgorian Zombie flopped across the
hood of my car. She stared at us through the windshield.
Her left eye had been eaten by flies. She opened her mouth
and let out a high-pitched howl, as flies crawled out of her
mouth. The woman’s head dropped onto the hood of the
car, and rolled onto the asphalt. Carmela screamed as she
stared at the slithering maggots that were still attached to
the chewed up neck.

Loud pings and donks came from the roof of my
car. Giant white Ping-Pong ball sized hail began to ricochet
around us.

“We got hail,” I said as calmly as I could after
watching someone’s head fall off, “The tornado must be
closer.”

The wind was picking up. The flies seemed to be
getting sucked into a vacuum cleaner. A sound like a fast
moving freight train screamed over the buzz of flies and
overpowered the air-horn. Rain began to fall hard, and hail
was mixed with it. The flies had cleared from the back
windshield. A dark funnel appeared behind us. The twisting
force of the tornado flung heads and bodies around Main
Street. The sign for
The Road Kill Café
was ripped off the
building and disappeared into the sky. The tornado hit the
Kilgore Petroleum Gas Station. An explosion shook the car.

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