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A blog for poetry, prose, and pop culture.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Flash Fiction: Under a Dead Sun: Past Sins

Chapter 24:

Cody backed up down the trail as the brothers slowly shuffled towards him. His eyes danced over them, from the wickedly blackened points of their fingers and teeth, to the oozing pus filled bullet wounds. He tried to avoid the bloody path of entrails streaming from Buford, but the dusty earth soaked up the gore leaving a trail back to the campsite that continued to draw his eye. His fingers had automatically thumbed back the hammers on his twin Colts, and he kept the guns trained on each of the advancing horrors. He managed to look skyward once more, at the burnt out sun overhead, and briefly wondered what fresh hell he had walked into.

Cody's mind worked in a whirl, how the fuck do you kill what you already shot dead? He could probably outrun the things, but his money was still back at the camp and he'd have to go around them. Worse yet, Cody didn't like running from fights. His mind raced for an idea as the creatures came closer, each shuffled step bringing them that much nearer to him, when he lit upon an idea. Cody narrowed his gaze, taking aim, each finger dancing over the trigger as he squeezed them repeatedly.

He watched as each of the creatures kneecaps exploded in a shower of black ichor. The monsters fell to the ground, buckling under their own weight, their legs a shattered mess of bone, blood, and seething pus. Cody calmly ejected the spent shells from his pistols, loading in new rounds as he approached the creatures. The brothers were still alive, trying to pull themselves towards him as he approached. His hands were a blur, as he re-sheathed one of the pistols and brought the second up, hearing that welcoming click as he chambered the next round.

He approached Buford first, watching as the brother clawed at the earth, trying to pull himself closer to Cody. His strewn entrails were pooling in lumps on the ground as it dragged his stomach across the ground. Cody eased around towards its side, as it futility clawed, trying to change directions towards him. He took aim at the outstretched claw and fired again, ending the hand in a shower of blood and sinew. The shattered limb fell to the floor as Cody took aim again, lining the barrel of the gun with Buford's head. He stared into the snarling maw, teeth gnashing at him, and fired once again. Finally the creature fell silent, it's body going motionless with one final shudder.

Cody took aim at the second brother then, as Beau had pulled himself to his knees. Beau didn't try to move toward him like Buford had, instead he let out a hissing screech, flinging bile and pus from his cracked jaw. Beau's claws opened and closed in anticipation as Cody walked closer, the screech lowering itself to an incessant hiss. Cody took aim again, the pistol just feet from Beau's snapping jaw, and fired. He watched the brother he had already killed once die again. He fired again, ensuring that there was little left of the brother's brain to merit whatever sorcery had re-animated it.

With the black sun overhead, Cody returned to the camp. The horses has fled in a panic, and after ten minutes he gave up on trying to find them. He stripped down his saddle, securing the goods he would need into his saddlebags, cramming in the meager essentials along with the stolen money. He looked at his rifle and left it, opting to take Buford's sawed-off shotgun. He added the spare bandoleer to his pack and headed down the trail towards Desperation. Now, more than ever, Cody wanted to get the fuck out of this country.

End of Line.

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