Authors: L A Taylor
Frank remained in a shocked state of emotion and almost knocked down another eerie character swaying in the road on his journey to the police station.
What’s going on around these parts? Was there some kind of freaky ritual happening where people were fucked up on drugs or something
?
The truck stopped. He exited, but took his steel, steering wheel lock with him for protection. Frank watched the troubled looking figure closely, spotting an injury to the warped appearance of the stranger. Dried blood was wrapped around the throat and face like a sticky, red necklace. “Are you all right? Can you tell me what happened to you? Do you need help?” He asked, as he approached edgily.
He received no reply, so thought the wounded victim was too traumatised to speak. Frank’s first reaction was to see if any liquid still poured out of the severed larynx, so moved closer, until he was six feet away. The blood-drenched figure stared, smiling at the human, its eyes teasing the man, making him think it was being friendly toward him. “Do you need any assistance? You’ve been hurt. Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?”
More questions followed, but still no reply came. Frank thought this weirdness had something to do with drugs and maybe this person had taken some. He touched the mysterious, road wanderer’s hand but a signal alerted the zombie’s brain, switching on the serious side again. The creature’s facial expression swiftly changed from a smile to a glare, its mouth opened, displaying gnashing teeth. A rapid head movement enabled the corpse to snap out with its biting jaws but Frank avoided confrontation, stepping back from the complete surprise attack. He now thought this person was either frightened of him because he was a stranger, or, a mad lunatic, so tried calming the crazy female down, but this was to no avail. The zombie freaked out. It grabbed onto his jacket as both bodies wrestled for a few seconds. Frank knew he would have to use the wheel lock to scare the assailant if it kept attacking him, but if he wasn’t careful then it would only be a matter of time before the gnashing teeth eventually reached their designated target.
Frank’s endurance faded fast, allowing the creature to increase pressure. It finally bit into the worried man’s, upper right arm. Cloth was forced away from his charcoal coloured, denim jacket before infected teeth tore through his flesh.
Frank released himself from the zombie’s grip, placing his left hand over the wound to stem the flow of blood. The crazy person stood in front of him eating the extracted piece of flesh. Frank hoped this was just an illusion, but knew he was in a fucking nightmare.
He removed his blood soaked hand from the deep gash, seized the wheel lock from the drained of energy body-part and lifted it above his head. “Right, you’d better fuck off before I hit you with this. You’re a sick, twisted bitch,” he shouted, cringing from the stinging pain. There seemed to be no sign of retreat from the monster, so Frank became more forceful. “I mean it. If you don’t get away from me now then I’m going to smack you so hard that your head will end up next to your arse.”
The monster shuffled toward him. Whatever Frank said had increased the zombie’s anger and it wanted to taste his flesh again. The beast lunged forward but was stopped in its tracks. The steel object crashed down, splitting the skull clean open like an egg being cracked into a frying pan. Brain matter and bone fragments sprayed over the truck driver’s face and clothing. The weapon dropped. Frank wiped his coat sleeve over his face to enable clearer vision. He was now taken aback by his recent actions because he thought he’d killed a human being.
That has to be a prison sentence for me now, surely. The officer who wound me up would love this outcome
.
The corpse stood still for a few seconds. Weird facial expressions appeared just before it toppled over. All thoughts of this being human were now erased from Frank’s mind. The battle was over, but his anger remained. He had to know if this thing was dead or alive so began kicking out repeatedly at the lifeless body. When he’d had enough he glared at the battered corpse. “You fucking bitch. I’ve got to buy a new coat now. If I’d known you were hungry then I would’ve given you a bone.”
He spat at the body after finally composing himself, and with a scared expression lingering on his face, made his way back to his truck. Once there began to search for material to tie around his wound. There was nothing resembling this so Frank used his trouser belt. Once tightened he sat back in his seat and started the engine.
The truck moved along the country lane but Frank found it more and more difficult to concentrate. Exhaustion had set in, but knew he needed to reach his target to gain proper first aid.
He arrived at the police station minutes later, staggering upon leaving the truck. With his wound increasing in pain and vision blurred, Frank’s face sweated constantly. He mumbled uncontrollable words during the agonizing walk through the double doors that led to the reception desk.
The receptionist spotted him. A uniformed man helped her escort Frank to a seat. He then politely asked the receptionist to fetch the man some water while he kept the stranger company. “That appears to be a nasty gash on your arm, mate. Do you mind telling me what happened?”
Excess bodily fluid still poured from the large, seventeen-stone man, but he had stopped muttering to himself. He remained shaken and was obviously still in pain. The cringing of facial muscles proved that.
“I need to see a doctor. It’s killing me. My arm feels like it’s falling off.”
“Okay, my friend. I’ll sort you out with some first aid, but I’m going to need some information to decipher exactly what happened…”
Just at that moment the receptionist returned with a glass filled with water. The sick man took it from her, sitting with his left hand smothering the drinking vessel. The right one was now too infected from the bite to even move at this point. The drink was rushed down his throat with speed.
“Let’s start with your name?” said the officer.
The wounded man focused a touch better now.
“Frank.” His eyes squinted, the wound throbbing more and more during each heartbeat. “When am I going to get some help? I can’t think with this agony.”
The man in charge of the situation looked across at the female receptionist.
“Susan, could you please fetch the first aid box.”
“I’m on my way,” she replied.
The officer watched the slim, petite, spectacle wearing lady race off again before returning his attention back to the truck driver. He noticed sweat dripping constantly from Frank’s brow. “My name’s Mike. Can you tell me how you obtained that nasty laceration on your arm?”
Mike was the local Chief Inspector, a kind hearted, helpful male, who did his utmost to look after his staff and the residents of this town. When others fell apart around him, he would be the one who picked them up again. He’d proved that during the violence of last Christmas and was recommended for an award for keeping this town together during that awful time.
Frank took a deep breath before telling the chief what’d happened, and Mike was able to place the beginning of the story back to Frank’s phone call.
But why was he here?
Mike remained silent in case the answer waited for him in the man’s agonizing speech. Frank continued, mentioning the person who attacked him.
“Where’s this person now?” Mike asked.
Frank winced, and with the slightest of whispers answered. “I killed her...”
Mike seemed confused by the faint words so asked Frank to repeat himself, but this made the truck driver rather upset. He was ashamed at what he’d done to both victims and wasn’t planning on telling everybody that he’d been involved in such a wicked act of violence. His mind flashed back to the horror and the visions dug into him. He had to let this anger out. “I fucking killed her…” he roared.
Everyone in the building heard him. The volume switch in Frank’s voice lowered again as he quickly glanced at the startled Mike. “I killed some people today. Do you understand what I’m trying to say to you?”
Tears formed diminutive pools of water around his eyes. His hands covered his face as he sobbed into them.
Mike shrugged his shoulders and was still lost, even as Frank explained the story to him again, so needed to hear from Wayne or Jason before receiving a more up-to-date explanation.
Susan returned with a bandage and some antiseptic fluid, but now stared at the wreck of a man as he remained sitting with his head and hands on his lap.
“Susan, get on the phone and speak to Wayne. Tell him that the truck driver’s with me and he’s been attacked by somebody on the road. He claims to have lashed out at the assailant. Tell Wayne to check the roadside for any signs of an injured person before heading back here.” The worried inspector reached out, taking the items from the receptionist. “I’m going to sort out Frank’s arm then I’m taking him to the hospital.”
Mike could’ve let Susan deal with Frank but the troubled driver trusted him, so felt it best if he remained with the man.
Frank leaned back again, removing his hands to let Mike do what had to be done. His belt was unbuckled and thrown to one side as Mike removed the clothing from around the bite mark. He then disinfected the wound, tipping the antiseptic fluid over the gash. Mike noticed that the other person wasn’t flinching anymore. The pain now seemed numb to Frank. His right side was so far infected with the virus that it felt like the arm was getting better, but it wasn’t, it was becoming much, much worse. Mike wrapped the bandage over the area while Frank gazed into space.
An ambulance and a second police car had arrived at the death scene while Wayne spoke to Susan on the phone. The occupants of the police vehicle were assembling plastic barriers on either side of the crime scene, blocking off the road to stop anyone from nearing. “Mike wants us to check the area for more bodies?” Wayne asked again, as he listened to the repeated reply. “This place is becoming freakier and freakier. Tell the chief I’ll get in touch soon.”
You couldn’t tell from the quick conversation that Wayne and Susan were dating. It wasn’t common knowledge to most of the police force but they’d been seeing each other for a few months now. The Christmas tragedy had brought them closer together. Jason had been Wayne’s partner for some time and he wasn’t able to notice, but maybe Mike did? He noticed virtually everything happening in the workplace.
Wayne teamed up with Jason again to explain the orders, but the reaction on the younger man’s face revealed that he wasn’t surprised to hear this. According to Jason, all strange events came in threes, and he’d already witnessed two clear cases of weirdness today.
Wayne watched the paramedics examine the body and moved toward them.
“How’d you think she died?” he stupidly asked.
One of the medics stared up at the sergeant. “Well, let me see.” With his right index finger placed on the tip of his lips and his face showing signs of someone thinking, the medic continued. “I think she must’ve had a heart attack.” He wasn’t impressed by what the sergeant said. “Are you fucking blind?” he bellowed. “Can’t you see she’s been hacked to death? The poor girl never stood a fucking chance.”
Wayne responded to the other man’s attack of words but never shouted back. “Calm down. I know this is very distressing but shouting at me isn’t going to bring her back, or make the situation any better.”
The medic realized he was out of order and calmed down. “You’re right. I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just shaken up by what’s in front of us. This is where I live and someone has been murdered here.” There was no denying that this man felt saddened by the sight. “What about my family? How’d I know they’re safe? Who is safe?”
Neither of the officers could answer the medic, but a worried expression was passed between them as they remained silent for the next ten seconds.
The dead woman was wrapped inside a body bag and the two, confused medics placed her into the back of the ambulance. Wayne knew that his next piece of information wouldn’t be greeted with kindness by the medics. He said that there’s another corpse down the road and there could well be a third, so the ambulance men were going to be as busy as the officers. A quick description of the whereabouts of the torn apart body and the latest sighting was enough to give the medics an idea.
Wayne turned to the occupiers of the second police car as the ambulance left the crime scene. He gave them instructions on other possible areas to search. They were to keep the road blocked until further notice then enter the forest in their quest for clues.
Wayne and Jason left the area to continue their search for the possibility of there being a third body, and a reunion with the hospital workers.
A bloodstained figure lay on the road less than a mile from where Charmaine’s body had been found. Both officers exited the car. They gawped at the blood from the crushed area as a picture of coated scarlet formed a pattern that spread along the country lane.
“Bloody hell Wayne, what’s going on? This isn’t normal.”
“Jason, you’ve got to stay focused on your job. I don’t want you going off the rails again.”
Jason had been known to lose it in the past, so, if normal, everyday crime got to him, then there was no hope during this experience. This worried Wayne in case the constable wasn’t able to cope with the pressure.
“Hey, don’t stress, I’m fine. Everything’s getting a bit too bizarre that’s all.”
“You’d better stay that way for all our sakes. I’m letting the chief know what’s happened.”
Jason searched the area for more clues and spotted an object lying on the road. The sticky, darkened, dried in blood of the victim was still wrapped around it. He picked it up, walking toward Wayne as he returned from his quick chat with the chief. “What’ve you got there?” Wayne shouted.
“Proof that the truck driver’s a fucking maniac.”
“You aren’t going on about that again?”
“He bashed this poor girl to a pulp with this wheel lock. I know she’s not a pretty woman and probably came from a freak show, but he didn’t need to smash her skull in. He’s going down for doing this.”
“Let’s not get over excited. We don’t know what happened. Mike’s with him. They’re on their way to casualty so he isn’t going anywhere.”
Wayne sensed Jason’s fury over letting the truck driver get away from him earlier. All the joking around over the splattered corpse was soon erased from his mind and replaced with a one-hundredper-cent certainty that Frank was a killer.
The medics located the officers again, parking the ambulance next to the police car before the back of the red and white vehicle opened up. Another body-bag was released before the doors swiftly shut tight, stopping the stench from the inside leaking out.
“I hope this is the last one, as this is doing my head in,” one of the medics said. He tried holding himself together in order to shift the latest dead body from the ground. “There’s something odd about that other body. To my knowledge it’d been deceased for at least a week, so how could that be?”
“Don’t worry, we noticed it as well. I didn’t tell you because I needed a second opinion, and wanted to know if I was losing the plot,” Wayne replied.
The other paramedic decided to have his say on the subject. “There’s something bizarre going on. A mouldy, half eaten, chopped up body shouldn’t be out there on the road, so how did it happen?”
Jason dived in with his observation. “Hey, we solve the crimes and you guys pick up the bodies. That’s all you need to know for now, mate.”
That response flustered the medics, but in truth the young constable was kind of right.
Wayne ushered his partner away while aiming a final speech at the ambulance men. “We’ll leave you to it. We’re heading back to headquarters. Enjoy your day.”