Reekers
So I prophesied as I was commanded: and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bone. And when I beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin covered them above: but there was no breath in them. — Ezekiel 37:7-8
So I prophesied as I was commanded: and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bone. And when I beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin covered them above: but there was no breath in them. — Ezekiel 37:7-8
I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from around my eyes. “Are you ready?” I whispered.
Iain nodded.
We had our knives ready.
“One…two…” His eyes raised to meet mine and slid back to the door. “Thre—”
He shoved the door open with his shoulder as I twisted its knob.
The smell of stagnant air flowed out of the apartment.
It was clear.
I stepped in, and Iain locked the door behind us.
It looked like it had been empty since the start of it all. The room was covered in a thick layer of dust and filled with the smell of mold. There were some dishes with decayed food sitting on the coffee table.
While I searched the living room, Iain rummaged through the kitchen. He was searching for some dry foods. Anything that might still be good after all these years.
“Look! Popcorn,” he said. He picked up the box. “Too bad the noise will draw them.”
“I know, right?” I walked over and opened the cabinet next to him. “What’s this? Did someone say coffee?
“No way! Eric, you better not be joking right now!” He shoved me out of the way. He stood there looking at the tin cans as if his eyes were betraying him. The whole shelf was full of instant coffee. And another was filled with small bags of powdered milk.
“Who just won the lottery,” I asked.
“It’s been…what…about two years?”
The small Midwest farm town we came from had run out of pretty much everything. At first it seemed like it was going to be all right. But after a few days all the milk spoiled. Then over the next few years everything else ran out.
THHUUDDD
We hushed and stared down the narrow hallway past the living room.
BAANNGGG
Iain grabbed his knife from his belt. I grabbed one laying on the counter. We walked down the hallway quietly.
“Do you smell that?” he whispered.
I nodded my head. It was unmistakable. There was one in one of the bedrooms.
Iain’s next step caused the floor to creak as his body weight shift forward. It heard the noise and screamed.
“It’s in the bedroom. Get ready,” he said.
It snarled and clawed at the door. The door rattled at its hinges as it repeatedly threw itself at it.
“There’s definitely one in there,” I said.
We pushed against the door and braced ourselves.
“It’s not going to hold much longer. We’ve got to do this…quick.”
I stepped back and Iain kicked the door in.
The reeker flew back across the room and caught itself on the dresser against the wall. It lunged toward Iain. He raised his knife and plunged it into the reeker’s head. Its forward momentum knocked him back onto the ground.
“You okay?” I smiled and helped roll the corpse onto the floor next to him.
“I hate when that happens.”
“Iain, look at this pla—”
The window was broken. Nature had started to claim the bedroom for itself. The wall and floor near the window were covered with a thick layer of moss. Some small patches of grass were growing on the pillows. It was serene and unsettling.
“I hate finding them like this,” he said. “How long do you think it’s been like this?”
“A long, long time…” I place my hand on his upper back. “Are you okay?
“I’m fine. Let’s keep looking for supplies.”
While walking back to the kitchen I saw a piece of paper on the dining room table. “Hey, look at this,” I said and picked it up. “It looks like a letter.”
May 19th, 2024.
Shelly,
I came home as fast as I could. When I got here, you and the boys were already gone.
The streets were filled with so many people running and screaming. A woman and her daughter passed me. Then the woman stopped. The girl screamed. I couldn’t believe my eyes. She attacked her. Her own child, Shelly.
I’m sure you went to your parents’ house, out of town. If not, that is where I am going. Meet me there. And be safe.
I left a gun and ammo in the kitchen drawer.
I love you!
May 28th, 2024.
I tried to make it to the street again. Those things are everywhere. I barely made it back into the apartment. There are supplies in the kitchen with the gun. Stay for a while if I’m not here. Then meet me at your parents’.
I love you!
June 14th, 2024.
I really just hope you made it somewhere safe. I can’t get out of the apartment. They chase me back in every time. I got angry and broke the window, thinking that I could climb down. But it is too high. I’ll try again tomorrow. You know the plan.
I love you!
June 15th, 2024.
I almost made it this time. Then one of those things came out of nowhere. It chased me back to the apartment. It almost got in. But I fought it off and shut the door. Remember the plan if I’m not here.
I love you!
June 16th, 2024.
I’m not feeling well. I found a scratch on my leg after that thing attacked me yesterday. Constant cold sweats. I passed out a little bit ago. I don’t know for how long. I hear them in my head.
I am going to lock myself in the bedroom. Whatever you do, do NOT open the door. Just take the supplies and get somewhere safe.
Shelly, I love you so much!
“It must have been tough here in the city when it started.” He grabbed his left shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Then I saw it. A drop of blood had drawn a line down the back of his left arm. “You’ve got a scratch.” I cleaned it. But it was deep. “What do we do now?”
“How about we have a cup of coffee and worry about that later?”
About the Author
Jimmy Blakemore is an author of horror, suspense, and gothic fiction. Currently, is completing an MFA in Creative Writing and holds a BA in Creative Writing and English, Summa Cum Laude, from Southern New Hampshire University. He is the founder and publisher of Dark Harbor Press and Macabre Magazine.