Wednesday, February 12, 2014

The Vampire of the Muddy Atomic Zombie By David Anderson (Random Title #13)

“Y’all’s types ain’t welcome ‘round here,” said the Skeleton Sherriff, his star pinned to the vest that hung around his sun bleached bones.
“We don’t want any trouble, mister lawman,” said Mathias, but he was of course lying. Mathias was one of the Knight Riders, a group of rogue vampires that rode mechanical horses across the countryside, raiding ghoul and skeleton towns alike.
“I don’t care what y’all want, get the hell outta my town!” the lawman said, the near-midnight moon functioning like a spotlight, illuminating the affair.
“Very well, at the stroke of midnight we draw, sheriff,” Mathias said, casting a humorous gaze towards his companions. The old clock of the town square made a faint clicking noise as the hand rolled over to the twelve, and the lightning fast reflexes of Mathias gave him the upper hand as his gat was out and fired before the lawman could even reach for his piece. A crackle of anti-energy forever rendered the lawman an inert pile of bones, and some of the skeletal townfolk shuttered their windows as the Knight Riders made their way to the local town generator to charge their weapons and horses. Gats were great weapons, small and handled like a pistol. Unlike generator based weapons that could fire for long periods of time, Gats used a battery and only had six shots.
The Knight Riders rode mechanical horses called Land Cheetahs, the fastest form of transportation that existed short of a restored vehicle, which was rare outside of the army, who rarely used them anyway. Land Cheetahs were made from the scraps of cars built during “The Old Age” by living humans.
Once the mechanical horse is assembled, the re-animated brain of a ghoul horse is placed inside the artificial horse, and the horse essentially becomes ‘alive’. If a ghoul or skeleton is dismembered, they continue to live on, but their energy is usually collected into the brain or skull cavity. This essence brings to life the mechanical construct, letting it think and act like the horse its brain once was.
Mathias built his Land Cheetah from the remains of a great car called a ‘Ferrari’. This legendary car once belonged to the celebrity Justin Bieber, so he decided to name his horse Biebs. Land Cheetahs were called horses as slang, because they looked the part and performed the same tasks.
“Easy Biebs,” Mathias said as the horse looked to the west, towards The Black Mesa. It neighed and snorted, mirroring the actions of the horse on the Ferrari emblem that adorned its forehead. The sickening chunk of mountainous terrain hung black and rotten in the distance, reaching toward the desert sky with a rage.
“Gentleman, let’s get a move on,” signaling to the other riders that it was time to disembark. “If we ride all night we can make the Black Mesa before dawn.”
“We finally made it,” said Rudy, one of the other riders. He spoke of the long quest from Europe to New Mexico in search of answers, answers to questions that had been hanging in the air for over a hundred years.
In 2050, a peculiar meteorite struck the Earth. It was curious in the fact that it had the politeness to slow down before impact, which is usually a particularly hard feat for an inanimate object. The meteorite did however hit with enough force to lodge itself deep within the ground, the black rock it consisted of forming a small mountain. When it arrived, it triggered the arrival of the undead. Anything that had ever died rose, creating massive, previously buried armies that assaulted the living. The Black Mesa, as the meteorite is called, somehow lets the spiritual, psychic energy of a dead organism reanimate said organism; the only way they can find death again is through an anti- corporeal weapon or anti-weapon.
Vampires, however, existed before The Black Mesa came to Earth. Once the meteorite struck the planet, the vampires became ‘deaders’, the species own term for the affliction they suffered. Sunlight, wooden stakes, dismemberment; these methods of killing a vampire no longer worked as vampires obtained a kind of super immortality. Vampires also lost the need to feed on blood, another way a vampire can become weak and eventually perish.
Without the need for blood, the hunt, some vampires went crazy, laying down on the desert floor, waiting for dawn and the cleansing power of the sun to end their desperate lives. They still burnt, but remained alive, turned into horrifying living statues until the merciful day that an anti-gun takes them out.
“Yes, Rudy, we did. Like all of you, the lack of the hunt, of feeding, has left me feeling empty inside, hollow. But this quest has renewed us, given us purpose. We must find out the secrets of The Black Mesa, find out a way to reverse its effects. Maybe life can spring forth again, and we will finally get to drink the warm fluids of life.”
The men all tipped their hats to their leader, and Mathias turned his view to The Black Mesa.
It was an hour until dawn, and the men started digging their grave holes to bed down for the night. The Black Mesa was only two hours ride away, at least on their blazing fast Land Cheetahs. They parked the mechanical horses and dug in for the evening.
Mathias was awakened a few hours later by the muffled speech of a heated exchange happening above, on the ground. “What exactly you boys doin’ out here at The Black Mesa?” said a voice Mathias didn’t recognize, as one he did chimed in.
“Please, don’t do it, don’t let the sun hit me,” but before Rudy could finish his sentence, Mathias heard the familiar and haunting sound of a vampire turning to ash. He knew Rudy was still alive, but a prisoner encased forever in stone.
“Let’s dig up the rest of these batwinged sons a bicthes while the gettins’ good, boys!” said the same voice that questioned Rudy. Mathias made a mental note of the voice, vowing to destroy the undead bastard that spoke it. The sound of explosions above indicated that the steam-cores of the Land Cheetahs were being overloaded, and Mathias suddenly feared for Biebs.
The carnage continued throughout the day, as Knight Riders were dug up, briefly questioned, and then turned into living statues. As the day went on, they moved closer to Mathias with each screaming body they dug up. Mathias, being a Vampire, was very in-tune with the cycle of the Earth, and sensed night falling. Just as they broke ground over his grave site, his body gave him the cue that lethal doses of light had faded.
Mathias exploded out of the ground, pulling out his two Gats and unloading them on the skeleton men who were unearthing him for his sunlit interrogation. As soon as they were out, he dropped them and picked up two more from a nearby body, firing them into the group of seven men that remained. Everyone ducked for cover, including Mathias who found shelter by a boulder near the campsite.
“Come out with yer hand up, Vampir’” said a skeleton with a voice that matched Rudy’s killer.
“And just who am I surrendering to, Skeleton Man?” Mathias said, trying to buy himself some time.
“I’m Boss Bones and this here is my posse, The Bone Boys,” said the skeleton, dressed in western style clothing, including a cowboy hat.
Mathias took advantage of the brief cease fire and made use of his lightning fast reflexes, a well-aimed pot-shot taking out one of the bone boys as Boss Bones ducked behind a cactus. It was enough of a distraction to enable Mathias to get to Biebs, who was luckily still alive and kicking.
“Well, we should go after him, huh boss?” said one of the Bone Boys.
Boss Bones stared out after the dust cloud left by the speeding mechanical horse. “Yep, I reckon we do, only one place he could be going. Only one place close enough to travel to by dawn.”
Just as the Bone Boys saddled up, Rudy’s ashy tomb began to crack open. Before Boss Bones could react, a glowing, molten hand of some kind of muddy, goopy looking zombie-vampire raked against the boss’ face, ripping the bone clean off. With half of his face missing, Boss Bones rasped orders to his men but it was too late – more glowing zompires emerged from their statue like forms and attacked his men.
Boss Bones and two men that had survived hopped onto their horses and rode west, rode on to find and execute the vampire that had escaped them.

DAVID ANDERSON lives and writes in Mesa, Arizona. His work has appeared in Surreal Grotesque's online magazine, and other ezines like Bizarro Central, Garden Gnome Pulbications, and The Rot Gut County Blog. He can be found in print in 50 Secret Tales of the Whispering Gash: A Queefrotica and Witch!, an anthology from Dynatox Ministries.

No comments: