Free Floodwater Zombies by Sean Thomas Fisher, Esmeralda Morin

dark water begin to calm. They waited without words, their brains reeling to grasp the impossible. The fire popped loudly, making them jump. Slowly, they turned to each other, their eyes as wide as Clutch’s had been.
     
    “What the fuck was that?” Rory asked, his voice barely a whisper.
     
    Rachel blinked her panic-filled eyes and took his arm.
     
    He shrugged her off and pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it to the ground. “Call the police.”
     
    “Rory, no!”
     
    He sprinted to the water’s edge, stopped and surveyed the quiet lake with fuzzy eyes, his blood pumping thickly in his temples. Small waves gently lapped over his blue Nikes while a light breeze tickled his brown hair. He waited for a sign of life while his mind raced a million miles an hour in the dubious peace and quiet.
     
    “Our phones are in the cars!” Rachel cried out behind him.
     
    His heart sank with the reminder. He hesitated for a moment before undoing the belt on his army green cargo shorts.   His eyes scoured the water, trying to find the right spot to dive in as a young boy began slowly emerging from the water’s shimmering surface. Rory stopped loosening his belt and watched the boy’s shoulders clear the water. Dark hair draped straight down over his pasty forehead, dripping water into hollow eyes aimed right at Rory. The moonlight made the boy’s cracked skin (what was left of it) glow like a floating ghost. His black suit and yellow tie hugged his bony body as he steadily shuffled closer, moaning in pain with each sluggish step he took. Rory backpedalled without even realizing he was moving and quickly buckled his belt. The boy grinned at him, revealing broken teeth with sharpened points. His arms lethargically stretched out to Rory like he just needed a hug. And judging by the decay gripping the boy’s face and hands, he did. He couldn’t have been older than seven or eight but looked like he had been under water for over a decade.
     
    An elderly woman in a black dress shot from the water a few yards behind him. Her ear piercing shriek made Rory flinch. Without hesitation, she began running his direction at an alarming rate of speed, especially for someone so decrepit. Rachel read Rory’s mind and screamed, snapping him from his trance.
     
    He turned and bolted for the campfire, glancing over his shoulder just long enough to see the old lady blaze past the young boy in a flash. Her left eye was missing and there was no way he could outrun her, but he tried just the same. Even in the fire’s orange light, Rachel’s face looked colorless when he snatched her arm.
     
    “Come on!” he said, yanking her towards the woods.
     
    “What the hell is that?” she screamed, trying not to stumble.
     
    “Just keep moving!” His breath outran him as he sinuously navigated the campsite’s jumping shadows, expecting the senior citizen to tackle one of them from behind at any second. His feet surprised him with an agility he didn’t think was possible. It felt like he was flying over the beaten down land as they entered the darkened woods.
     

    The trail was narrow and overgrown. He didn’t see most of the branches until they had already scratched his face and arms. Everything brushed past in a stinging blur. He used one hand to ward off the snagging branches and his other to pull Rachel. They ran and jumped and tripped their way through the winding trail, somehow managing not to fall. Rory felt a thorn bush tear a lengthy gash in his right thigh, the pain all but annulled by his racing adrenaline. Despite the protest from the thorn bushes and twisting vines, they kept running, tearing through the woods with reckless abandon. A black silhouette popped out from behind a thick oak tree. Rory slammed on the brakes but it was too late. He collided with the figure, knocking the shadow to the ground while Rachel crashed into his backside and screamed.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
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