Rancid: A Zombie Novel Read online

“It was probably a wild cat or something. It ran into some loose bricks by one of the plots and the bricks fell. You guys need to calm the hell down. I plan to have a good night. I don’t need any of you being a buzz kill, just because you are afraid of the dar…”

  A pale figure leaped out from the shadows.

  Kelly screamed, drowning out the sound of hardcore music blaring from Jared’s car.

  An old man fell to his knees in the gravel right in front of the Volkswagen. Illuminated by the headlights, his clothes were muddy and torn. His hair was disheveled and he was out of breath. The man had to be in his late sixties. He was wearing a large plaid overcoat and jeans. When he reached up, leaning against the front bumper of Jared’s car, something dark smeared across the bumper. The man was bleeding. He struggled to stand. There was blood all over his undershirt.

  Noel gasped. Kelly and Trevor stepped back.

  “Hey, buddy.” Jared stepped forward. “Are you alright?”

  As the man stood to his feet, he started coughing up blood, causing Jared to stop dead in his tracks.

  “They’re out there!” The old man’s voice was weak and raspy. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Who’s out there?” Kelly gulped, looking over her shoulder and into the looming darkness.

  “The dead,” the old man insisted. “They’ve come back. They’ve come back from their graves seeking revenge!”

  Jared laughed.

  Noel shoved him. “Now is not the time to be funny. The man is hurt. We need to do something.”

  “Listen old man,” Jared said. “What the hell happened to you… for real?”

  “They’re out there. I’m telling you. The dead… they’ve come back!” He shivered in place, leaning against the car.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Glen…,” he said. “Glen Benta.”

  “Alright, Glen. You just need to calm down, okay. What in the world are you doing out here this late anyway?”

  Whatever the man had seen, or had attacked him, had definitely done a number on his nerves. Resting against the car, he clutched his right arm with his other hand. It was then that Jared and the others noticed that the blood he was covered in was his own. The right forearm of his overcoat was soaked in dark plasma.

  “I’m telling you…,” the old man insisted. “They are coming. You need to turn off that radio. The noise will draw them to us. The graves… they have turned over in the graves. We need to leave!”

  “All right. I’ve had enough of this.” Noel stepped forward, grabbing hold of the old man.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing, Jared? We need to get this man to a hospital.”

  “But I…”

  “But nothing, Jared. This man needs our help! Now help me get him into the car.”

  “Fuck…” Jared looked up at the night sky, the anticipation of a perfect night destroyed. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with. The closest hospital is at least thirty minutes away. Think you can hold on that long, old timer?”

  The injured man nodded, forcing back a violent cough. Jared sat the old man in the front seat then turned back to his friends.

  “Okay, look. I know that the bug is already cramped as it is, but are you guys going to be cool with sitting in the back with this dude? Because if not, Noel and I can take him to the hospital, drop him off, and come back and get you.”

  “Forget that,” Kelly groaned. “You aren’t leaving me out here. Are you crazy?”

  “That’s fine with me, either way. Just know that, with him in the back seat with you guys, you might get some of his blood on you.”

  Kelly sneered. “You have got to be kidding me.”

  Noel walked up beside them. “Whatever we’re doing, can we please make a decision? That man is bleeding to death for God’s sake.”

  “I’m fine with us just staying here and you coming back to get us,” Trevor grinned, slapping Kelly on the butt.

  “You would.” Kelly snarled. “Pig!”

  “Okay.” Jared stepped forward shaking Trevor’s hand. “It’s settled then. We will come back and get…”

  The car engine roared to life cutting Jared off.

  “What the fuck!” Jared turned back to see his car taking off in reverse.

  Gravel and dirt spun into the air like dusty smog. With the car fully backed out of the cemetery and onto the road, the old man kicked it into gear, careening down the winding road toward town. The sounds of hardcore music slowly grew fainter as the car drifted away in the distance.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Jared said.

  “Well, so much for like giving the guy a lift, right bro?”

  “What are we going to do?” Kelly murmured.

  “Does anyone have a phone?” Noel asked.

  Trevor shrugged and Jared said no. Kelly insisted that she had hers on her, but she had it sitting in the back seat of the car. Noel patted down her tight pockets, pulling it free, then sighed.

  “Battery’s dead.”

  “Great,” Jared said, tossing his hands in the air. “Just great!”

  Darkness fell on the cemetery like a tangibly thick tar. Noel almost felt as if she could reach out and touch it like murky water. Trevor reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter, but it didn’t do much to push back the black. With the music, no longer there to cover the sounds of the wild, the cemetery suddenly felt eerie. It was as if a dozen unseen eyes were peering down on them. Things could be heard that weren’t there before with the music up so loud. Things were moving.

  The cemetery sounded alive.

  “I don’t like this, one bit!” Kelly griped. “I just want to go back home. I didn’t even want to go to that stupid show tonight, anyway.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, Kelly. I didn’t want you to come along.” Jared stepped away from his friends, starting to walk toward the road.

  “Where the hell are you going?”

  “We have three options here,” Jared argued, his temper high. “We walk all the way back to town. We sit tight and try to actually enjoy the stupid meteor shower, or we go to that house over there and see about using the damn phone! And I’m sure as hell not about to walk all the way back!”

  Jared pointed toward the faint light off in the distance.

  Noel had never seen Jared so angry before. In a way, it was scary, but she liked it. He was turning her on.

  “I’m not walking through the woods. You can forget that!” Kelly crossed her arms, stomping a foot in the gravel.

  “Oh yeah,” Jared said. “You afraid of the big bad wolf?”

  Then it happened.

  Jared moaned at a sudden flash of movement.

  One time, when Noel was a kid, she and her cousins would get on top of the roof to wait for her cousins' older brothers to get home. With water balloons in hand, they would laugh with excitement when sending over a dozen water balloons crashing down on their unsuspecting prey. Some of the balloons would hit their targets, splashing water across heads and faces. Other balloons weren't quite as accurate, landing in the driveway to explode into a gushing display of water and particle-plastic rubber.

  That was what happened to Jared’s head. Only, it wasn’t water and shattered balloon rubber. It was blood, bone, brain, and hair that splattered across the gravel and dirt. A figure lunged out from the shadows tackling Jared to the ground. Off balance, the gothic punk rocker fell back, colliding head first with the rocky ground. Blood splashed out from his head on impact, along with the deafening crack of fractured skull fragments. Jared jittered for a moment on the ground, as blood spilled from his head, the frail attacker thrashing on top of him.

  Overhead the sudden shower of starry meteors lit up the night sky, momentarily pushing back cemetery shadows. Noel started to scream, but Kelly beat her to it.

  The living dead surrounded them.

  TWO

  Old man Glen Benta kept his foot to the floor, hardcore s
creaming music booming in his ears. Unable to hold back a fit of coughs, the car swerved on and off the road. Regaining his composure, the car continued at an easy ninety miles an hour toward town. The engine sputtered, giving out every bit of gusto it had to pick up speed. The man wanted more than anything to get clear across town, and as far away from that damn cemetery as fast as he could. He felt weak and he was losing a lot of blood. He had been the cemetery caretaker for over a decade, and had never seen anything like tonight before in his life. Sure, there hadn’t been much upkeep in the last few years, but why should he have bothered? No one had visited the dead there in years. No one missed you when you were dead.

  Now, with his hands behind the wheel of a stolen car, Glen began to panic. He had never stolen anything before in his life. He hadn’t bothered anyone since his wife died a few years back. He just continued to do what they had always done; keep to himself. Living alone in that rickety old house three blocks behind the cemetery was their slice of heaven. A lot of times, he felt like he was one of the dead. No one cared about Glen, and just like that cemetery, no one ever came to visit him. Not even his children.

  That was why he was so surprised when that racket started calling to him through the woods. Some stupid punk kids were at it again, vandalizing the cemetery property. Or even worse, tampering with the graves. Last summer, he had happened upon a few looters digging around and it took nothing to scare them off. That’s all he thought tonight would be. The same old thing. Cut through the woods to the cemetery and scare those kids away. Maybe then, with the loud music gone, he could finally get back to sleep.

  Glen’s head raced with what went wrong back there. How could he truly believe what he had seen? The dead came up out of their graves, really? That just couldn’t be. The funny thing was he didn’t think of that at all. He could only think of his wife. She was out there buried alongside all those overturned graves of loose soil. Could she be out there? One of them?

  Nearly to town, Glen simply wanted to get to the hospital alive. He had lost a lot of blood and knew it. He felt like he was going to faint at any moment. He gripped the wheel tighter, trying to focus on the road. The city streetlights were just up ahead. He was almost there. He was going to make it.

  All of a sudden, the car dipped violently. He must have hit a pothole. The front bumper scraped against asphalt and his head crashed with the steering wheel and the roof. He felt something wet run down his nose and his head began to throb. His vision went blurry. With his foot still on the gas, the car sharply veered right and came to an abrupt halt.

  Glen crashed forward into the windshield. His body blew through shattering glass like wet rags, rolling on the pavement in horrible pain. Despite the fact that he had just been thrown from the car, it was his arm where that damn thing bit him that hurt the most. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the city streetlight overhead and two figures looming over him. Whether or not they were dead, he couldn’t tell. It all went black. He had made it into town.

  The blaring sound of hardcore, scream’o music, no longer echoed out into the streets. It was instead replaced by the persistent hum of a fading steering wheel horn. Jared’s car was totaled. The old man managed to skid off the road, sending the car straight into a power pole. Surprisingly, for how fast he was going, the pole held firm. The car did not.

  “Is he dead?” Joe Montoya said.

  Only twenty-three, he was greener than green behind the ears. Today was his first day on the force. A young buck with Hispanic heritage, Joe was determined to start with the right impression. He hadn’t done so well. His partner and senior officer, Barrett Baily, wasn’t nearly as young or inexperienced. He looked up from checking the old man’s pulse, shaking his head. Barrett’s face was flush with dread. Officer Baily didn’t really understand why the precinct felt like he needed a partner. He hadn’t had one in over ten years and it wasn’t like Clarksburg, Virginia was a big town. Everybody knew everybody. He rubbed his thick mustache, knowing good and well that Joe got this job, simply because his uncle was the mayor. It was sad to see that, even away from the hustle and bustle, people could be promoted without any real effort.

  “He’s got a pulse… barely, but it’s still there.” Officer Baily clicked the receiver on his two-way radio, the small speaker on his shoulder crackling to life. “Unit two-twelve to dispatch, come in. We need immediate medical attention at the corner of Jenks Avenue and Fourth Street. It’s old man, Benta.”

  “Shouldn’t we move him or something?” Joe asked, clearly flustered.

  “No…” Barrett was surprised. “You never move a body like this. He could have a neck injury. Didn’t they teach you anything?”

  Before Joe could respond, the radio sparked to life. “Roger that, Baily. An ambulance is on the way. What’s he doing in town? He hasn’t been around here in years.”

  The officer didn’t respond, still trying to figure that one out. Glen hardly ever came into town these days, not since his wife passed away. And one thing was for sure, he definitely didn’t drive a Volkswagen Bug.

  “Your wife called about two hours ago, by the way,” the female radio responder said. “She said to pick up some milk on your way home tonight and that she was off to bed.”

  “Thanks, June.” Baily said into the two-way. “If she calls again, let her know I got the message.”

  Glen opened his eyes. A fierce volley of coughs surfaced. Blood pooled at his lips after a volcano-like spray of red plasma flung into the air, only to splash back down on his nose and cheek.

  “My wife…,” he said with a gurgling rasp. “She’s out there. She’s in the cemetery with the others. They’re coming back… They’re coming back…”

  “What’s he talking about,” Joe asked, leaning in, trying to listen.

  “Glen’s wife died a few years back,” Baily offered. “She’s been dead for a while.”

  “The dead… They have dug themselves free from their graves.” Glen squirmed. “They’re coming back for revenge. They’re mad at us all!”

  Both officers shrugged at one another, not sure what the old man was talking about.

  “Lie still!” Officer Baily insisted. “You have been in an accident, Glen. Help is on the way.”

  Forcing the old man to remain on the ground, the officer dressed in blue, motioned his young partner over to help hold him. They didn’t want to risk any further injuries. Baily was just glad to see that the old man was still alive. How he had survived crashing through that windshield was beyond him. In the distance, the faint sounds of a siren filled the air.

  “You hear that, Glen?” Baily did what he could to comfort the old man. “Help’s on the way.”

  Glen Benta finally settled, no longer trying to resist the officers. Joe stepped out into the street to wave the ambulance over. Still several blocks up the road, the siren grew louder.

  “Now… Glen.” Baily spoke calm, trying not to stir the old man up again. “Can you tell me where you got this car? This isn’t your car.”

  Realistically, he didn’t have to ask. He knew whom this car belonged to. It was Jared Garrison’s car. That dumb punk was always up to no good. Throwing wild bonfire parties, vandalizing public property, and who knows what else. Baily wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if the boy was into dealing drugs these days too. Baily knew one thing for sure; he would be there to catch that boy and see that he spent a few nights in the slammer. If old man Glen had Jared’s car, then something was going on. If Baily went out to that old man’s house and found Jared and his friends messing around, he would have their heads. He shrugged, then swallowed hard. If Jared was up to something tonight, that meant that Noel was with him. And if Noel was with him, then that could only mean one thing. Kelly was in trouble. He had no idea why his little girl hung out with those kids. They were no good. Officer Barrett Baily cringed at the idea that his daughter was out late tonight with any of those punk kids. Nothing but a bunch of trouble makers. Feeling uneasy about the idea, despite the fac
t that his daughter was old enough to make decisions and chose her friends for herself, he called his wife. Even though Kelly was nearly twenty-two, she still lived at home. Barrett didn’t mind. He loved his daughter. She was daddy’s girl. His hesitations and concerns were answered when his wife told him that Kelly hadn’t made it home yet. It was normal for her to be out past midnight of course, but this was different. Baily grimaced, hanging up the phone. He had a feeling that he knew all too well where his little girl would be. And if she was in any real trouble, he wanted to be the first one there not only to protect her, but to also clear her name of any wrong doing. She was a good girl, unlike that friend of hers, Noel.

  “The car, Glen… Where did you get the car?”

  “The cemetery…,” he winced in pain. “The cemetery is alive…”

  “Stonewall?” Baily asked. “The one right behind your place?”

  Glen tried to nod. His face crunched up in pain. The area around them grew louder with the wail of the ambulance call. Luminescent hues of reds and white flooded the dark streets.

  “The dead… they came out of the graves. I saw it with my own eyes. I swear I saw it. They’re dead. They’re all dead. One of them attacked me…”

  He tried lifting his arm, but was too weak.

  “Who attacked you?” Baily asked. “Did that Garrison boy do something to you? What happened?”

  Before he could reply, two medics rushed over shoving Officer Baily aside. While checking his vitals and securing him with a neck brace, the two men simultaneously counted to three, rolled Glen on his side and slid a metal bed under him.

  “Can you help us lift him to the gurney?” One medic asked, looking at Officer Baily.

  The three of them lifted Glen to the bed on wheels, while Joe Montoya stared with wide eyes. In a matter of seconds, they had him settled in place in the back of the ambulance. Gathering up their things, the two medics jumped back into the ambulance and were on their way. The two policemen watched as the ambulance raced down the road, slowly fading out of view.

  And that’s how it started in town. Once the ambulance was well out of view, Glen Benta died. But it wasn’t long before he came back. Seconds, really. He lashed out, attacking the medic in the back with him. The medic never saw it coming either. Just when he was about to announce to the driver that they had lost him, his eyes opened. Only there was something different about them. They seemed empty and soulless. Caked with a milky white haze, he stared back for only a moment. Glen grabbed the medic by the shirt collar, pulling him in. The man never had time to scream. Glen’s teeth sank into his jugular. The crunch of flesh and cartilage met with a spray of gushing blood from his throat. Glen forcefully pulled away the meaty flesh, clenched between his teeth. The medic’s Adam’s Apple tore free as skin stretched from his neck, splashing Glen’s face with a wave of red mist.