Holiday of the Dead

A
Zombie Anthology

A Wild Wolf Publication

Published by Wild Wolf Publishing in 2011

Copyright © 2011 with Individual Authors

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed by a newspaper, magazine or journal.

First print

All Characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living, dead or undead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-1-907954-05-4

www.wildwolfpublishing.com

Other Zombie Titles From

Wild Wolf Publishing

Dead Beat (2010) by Remy Porter

Rise & Walk (2011) by Gregory Solis

Written works by the contributors to this anthology include; Night of the Living Dead, Pontypool, Necropolis Rising, Dead Fall, The Kult, Domain of the Dead, The War of the Worlds: Aftermath, Sinema, The Killing Moon, the Joe Hunter thrillers, Turn of the Sentry, Unlikely Killer, Lucky Stiff, Down the Road, The Zombie’s Survival Guide, Santa Claws is Coming to Town, The Estuary, the Vampire Apocalypse novels, The Invasion, Island Life, Night Fighters, Apocalypse of the Dead, Dead City, Quarantined, Flesh Eaters, Drop Dead Gorgeous, Flu, Dead Beat, Undead World trilogy, World War of the Dead, Bigfoot War, Maneater, Zombie Britannica and Prey to name just a few.

Special thanks to Peter Fussey for the amazing cover artwork.

FOREWORD

Wild Wolf Publishing has gathered together the most comprehensive assemblage of emerging and established authors in the zombie sub-genre. From legends like Night of the Living Dead co-writer, John Russo to exciting new talents like Remy Porter and widely respected established talents such as Shaun Jeffrey, David Dunwoody, Joe McKinney, Rod Glenn and A P Fuchs, this anthology really does have them all!

WE’VE all probably had a holiday from hell at some point in our lives, be it the brochure neglecting to mention the hotel was a building site, or the all-you-can-eat buffet made you live on the toilet that was just a hole in the floor for three days, while a six-packed Spanish dive instructor seduced your wife on a boat half a mile off the coast. Obviously I’m not still bitter, and this was purely a made up example.

For me, possibly the one bad thing that hasn’t happened on one holiday or another is a zombie apocalypse. This is unfortunate in some respects as then I’d actually be able to score a poolside deckchair off certain non-specific European holiday makers for once*.

But joking xenophobia aside, and back in the reality that my psychiatrist has worked hard with a cocktail of drugs to maintain, I know that zombies on holiday may not happen in my lifetime. In the meantime, this collection of stunningly original zombie stories from an array of old hands and fresh talent will have to do.

This is an Anglo-American zombie collection of epic proportions. If you want the best undead stories of the year you have them here. This is the quintessential holiday read. 

Remy Porter, February 2011 

* Don’t mention the war

CONTENTS

Dark Inside By Shaun Jeffrey

Squawk By Remy Porter

Jennifer By Iain McKinnon

Cherry By Tony Wright

A Side of Cranberry Sauce By Clyde Wolfe

Dig By Lee Kelly

Apocalypse Noo By Vallon Jackson

Thanksgiving Feast By A.M. Boyle

Oatmeal Cookies By Eric Dimbleby

In The End By R. M. Cochran

Naked Fear By Tonia Brown

Undead Side of the Moon By Lyle Perez-Tinics

A Change is as Good as a Rest By Tom Johnstone

Storm Coming Down By Iain S Paton

Rockets’ Red Glare By Bowie V Ibarra

Zombie World Death Perception By Calvin A. L. Miller II

School’s Out By Derek Gunn

Guises By S. Michael Nash

Ladykiller By Ricki Thomas

Daddy Dearest By Dave Jeffery

Home for the Zombi-Days By A. P. Fuchs

Roman Holiday By David Dunwoody

Larry and Hank’s Big Dead Fishing Adventure By Eric S Brown

Home Is The Sailor, Home From The Sea By William Meikle

Burj By Nigel Hall

A Dark Moon Honeymoon By Rob Smith

The Last Trip Together By John McCuaig

The Day The Music Died By Joe McKinney

Wabigoon By James Cheetham

The Four Of July By Shawn M Riddle

Where Moth and Rust Destroy By Thomas Emson

The Zombie Whisperer By Bob Lock

The Day I Discovered The Truth About The Man In The Red Suit By R. Phillip Roberts

Crossover By Tony Burgess

December In Florida By Asher Wismer

One Dead Whore By Wayne Simmons

Seahouses Slaughterhouse By Rod Glenn

A special bonus short story by Night of the Living Dead co-writer, John Russo ‘The Walk-In’

An exclusive excerpt from the screenplay for the forthcoming film sequel to Pontypool written by Tony Burgess

DARK INSIDE

By

Shaun Jeffrey

I once thought dying was the worst that could happen.

Then I came back …

10.15 a.m. – July 18

Stood on the bow of the cruise ship, Silver Surf, I performed my best impression of Leonardo DiCaprio from the film, Titanic.

“I’m the king of the world,” I shouted, much to my little brother’s amusement. He covered his mouth with his hand and giggled. The sea breeze animated his mop of sandy coloured hair like a strange sea anemone. I think it amused him more because I’m his sister; everything I do makes him laugh.

I liked making him laugh.

A couple of passengers looked at me with distaste, perhaps thinking my reference to a film concerning an ill-fated liner inappropriate, but they could go swivel.

The wind had messed my long blond hair, and as I stepped away from the bow I brushed a strand out of my eyes and hooked it behind my ear. The sea breeze had made my eyes water slightly and the ship’s structure offered only relative protection.

If the truth be told, I hadn’t been looking forward to the holiday. It was my parents’ idea; I imagined the ship would be like an old people’s home. But luckily my preconceptions had been wrong as there were a number of young people onboard and to my surprise and relief I had enjoyed it so far. There was plenty to do. The ship had two showrooms, a sports court, four swimming pools, library, pizzeria, steakhouse, casino, hamburger grill and shops galore. A floating town, inhabited by 1,950 passengers and crew.

Out of the passengers, one boy in particular had caught my eye. Tanned and sporty with short brown hair, he looked drop-dead gorgeous and I felt sure he would pluck up the courage to speak to me – if he didn’t, then I would have to make the first move. Life’s too short to miss out.

“What’s that?” Jake asked, bringing me out of my reverie.

I looked where he was pointing and saw a small boat floating in our path. Although difficult to see clearly from our position and distance, it looked abandoned.

Noticing a steward nearby, I called him over and pointed the boat out. He thanked me for my keen eye, and hurried away to report the vessel.

Even though I knew it took a mile to stop the ship, it wasn’t long before I felt us slowing, and I watched as they launched a boat to investigate Jake’s sighting.

10.57am

The unscheduled slowing of the ship generated a lot of interest, and by the time the launch returned, towing the small boat, a number of people had gathered on the deck to watch.

Hard to see clearly from where we stood, I grabbed Jake’s hand and led him through the crowd and down to where I imagined they would dock (I had seen hatches in the lower decks that were used to ferry supplies from the islands). In the back of my mind, I remembered something about a person who saves property at sea being entitled to a reward, and as Jake spotted it first, I felt any reward should come his way.

11.24am

When we arrived, a great deal of commotion came from the men gathered around the boat. I don’t know why, but my heart felt like a punch bag under attack.

“Hey, what do you kids think you’re doing here?”

I turned to face a gruff looking man with a bald head and a pockmarked face. Being called a kid really annoyed me. I’m sixteen, but I think I look older. My figure often draws admiring glances, and the bikini top I wore today only just covered my breasts.

“It was my brother and me that spotted the boat,” I said. As I spoke, I noticed the gaze of his grey eyes stray toward my bosom, and then quickly realign with my face.

“Well, you’re not meant to be down here. It’s dangerous.”

Before I had a chance to reply, someone shouted and we all turned to look at the boat that had been dragged aboard.

Another shout rang out. People fell back, stumbling over one another, and what looked like a black blanket suddenly flowed over the side of the boat.

I frowned, and then opened my mouth in shock as I realised that it was a plague of rats … and they were running toward me. They scurried quickly across the deck, and then without warning, one of them launched itself at me, and I felt its sharp little teeth sink into my arm.

But it was the sight of a man hauling human bones out of the boat that made me scream.

12.13pm

I could tell as the doctor stuck the needle into my arm that he enjoyed inflicting pain. I winced, which caused a faint smile to break the straight countenance of his narrow lips. He had a face like granite rock, weather-beaten, upon which the smile seemed ill at ease.

People always commented that I acquired my good looks from my mother. At the moment, her blue eyes looked close to tears, although I didn’t know whether through anger or concern. Her hair was as blond as mine, but shorter. We also shared the same little button nose, and I think my bosom will be as plentiful too. The t-shirt she bought during our stop in Jamaica made her look cheap. Two sizes too small, it bared her midriff and the pierced belly button she had done last year. It’s time she grew up.

My father sat behind her with his back against the wall. He seemed distracted; his thoughts probably on the state of his car components business back home. I don’t think he wanted to come on this holiday; I probably inherited my mother’s stubborn streak, too.