CHAPTER V

BODIES IN THE MIST

BY BARRY REESE

Max burst into the parlor room, barely able to stop himself from retrieving the pistol he wore strapped under his coat. He found the women staring outside the windows, into the thickest fog Max had ever seen outside of London. It tumbled about like small clouds of mist, borne along by mystic winds.

Evelyn stood closest to the window, a hand raised over her open mouth. The poor woman looked as pale as a ghost and she jumped when Max touched her shoulder.

"What's happened?" Max asked, feeling the way she shivered beneath his hand.

"Out there... Can't you see them?"

Max followed her gaze, aware that the other men had entered the room and were asking their own wives and girlfriends for information. Outside, in the mist, were men... shambling mockeries of men, stooped over and somewhat misshapen. "Stay here," he whispered. He turned and found himself face-to-face with Trench.

"Going somewhere, Mr. Davies?"

"There are people out there. I'm fairly certain that Beauregard didn't invite them."

"I'll come with you, if I may."

Max hesitated, remembering the dark terror of his earlier visions. Despite them, there was no way he could avoid the offered help without seeming rude to the other guests. "If you'd like. Just stay behind me." Max reached under his coat and drew out his pistol, careful to keep it hidden from the women.

"Do you always come so well prepared to parties?" Trench asked.

"Only ones where unnatural mists spring up out of nowhere." Max hurried out the front door, stumbling a bit as he reached the stairs. The fog was so thick that he could not see more than a few feet in front of him. He thought he saw two of the mysterious figures ahead of him, but he could not be sure. "You there!" he yelled. "Identify yourself!"

Trench's voice came from just over his left shoulder. "Look to your right."

Max did so and felt the blood in his veins chilling at the sight before him. A man with bluish-tinted skin had come into view, his clothing soiled by dirt and blood. His eyes were rolled up in his head, leaving only white showing. There was an awful nature to his gait that made Max feel sick and confused. "God in heaven," he whispered.

"I don't think God had anything to do with these things," Trench whispered.

The undead creature shifted at the sound of Trench's voice, seeming to zero in on the two men. It picked up speed, raising its arms and forming the hands into fists.

Max shot it twice in the chest, but the bullets only seemed to stagger the creature. It continued on, closing the gap quickly. Just as its fingers began to close around Max's collar, he unloaded a bullet directly between its eyes. Blood sprayed backwards, along with white fragments of bone and gray matter.

The monster fell to the ground, twitching. A noxious odor rose from it and Max recognized it from the numerous scenes of horror he'd witnessed. It was the smell of death and decay.

"More," Trench hissed.

Max whirled about as two more of the things ambled towards him from the other side of the porch. He leaped towards them, aware that his ammunition was limited. The first of the things was met with a hard chop to the throat. It didn't harm the undead monster the way it would have a normal man but it gave the thing pause, allowing Max to fire his pistol at point-blank range into its temple. As before, damage to the cadaver's brain seemed to bring its rampage to a halt.

Armed with knowledge of how to stop the things, Max made quick work of the thing's companion and stared out into the mist, wondering how many more might be waiting.

Trench appeared again at his side, staring down at the twitching monsters. "Fascinating. Reminds me of the zombies I've heard about in Haiti."

Max fought the urge to put the last of his bullets into Trench's head. The visions had seemed to make it clear that he was a villain of the worst sort... but something stayed Max's hand. He had never killed anyone who hadn't forced the action and he held on to that last vestige of morality like a crutch.

"The fog is lifting," Max said, noticing that the mist was beginning to part as quickly as it had arrived.

"And the bodies are going away," Trench remarked. "Look."

The two zombies at Max's feet faded into nothingness, becoming as immaterial as the mist itself.

"What do you think could do such a thing?" Trench wondered aloud. "And why?"

"They were a distraction."

"I don't understand."

Max frowned, wondering if that was true. It was certainly possible that whatever threat Trench posed was unrelated to his plague of undead... but Max had a feeling that Trench was anything but innocent here. "The men didn't do anything other than wander around, attracting our attention."

"They did attack you...."

"Yes, but rather ineffectually. There's something more at work here." Max looked over as Beauregard and several of the men hurried over, some of them brandishing their own gentlemen's pistols. "Mr. Ellis, might I recommend that you have the servants search the house and make sure that nothing is missing?"

"You think some of those men the ladies saw might have gotten inside?" Beauregard asked, looking alarmed.

"It's possible."

"Where are they now?" Gilbert wondered. "I don't see a damned thing."

"They fled," Trench replied, drawing a glance from Max. The two men seemed to share an understanding that discussions of walking undead would not go over well with men who hadn't seen them firsthand.

Max spotted Evelyn slipping quietly out of the house and he excused himself quickly, moving to catch up to her. "Evelyn! Are you alright?"

She turned to face him with fear in her eyes. "No! Those men... they weren't right! I saw one of them! He... It was awful!"

Max brought her into his arms, comforting her. "I believe you. I saw them myself."

Evelyn drew back quickly. "You did? Thank heavens! I thought I had gone mad!"

"No, you mustn't think that. There are things in this world that are beyond the rational. The sooner you accept that, the better. Can I take you home? I have a feeling you aren't going to want to stay for tea and dancing."

"Please. I would very much like the company," she said, looking profoundly grateful.

Poor girl, Max mused. She's not used to such terrors. I almost envy her.

Walking towards his parked car, Max cast another glance back at the house. Trench was there, talking quietly with Beauregard. He looked up and gave Max a perfunctory nod. I think I'll pay Mr. Ellis a visit tonight and find out what went missing. Because something most certainly did... and it's looking more and more like a case for the Rook.

Lucifer's Cage stories & The Rook © Barry Reese. HTML © Tim Hartin.

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