Free The Risen: Dawning by Marie F Crow Page B

of their vocal sounds. Glazed eyes begin picking their targets with eagerness, splitting groups into smaller numbers as they spread out towards their new victims. The loud noises from the many roaring Harley engines are acting like a dinner bell to their ears. Lines of shambling bodies form down the streets heading to the bar like a horrific Halloween parade. Long arms reach out, pulling people from their motorcycles, or the motorcycles down all together, as person after person falls to the walking nightmare versions of our town folk.
    “What the hell are they?” Aimes whispers, staring out.
    Chapel’s lifeless voice from behind us at his booth offers the first answer given to us all day.
    “Their flesh will rot while they are still standing on their feet. Their eyes will rot in their sockets. Their tongues will rot in their mouths. On that day, they will be terrified, stricken by the Lord with great panic. Each man will seize the hand of another, and they will attack each other.”
    “Did he just quote scripture?” Rhett’s forehead creases with his question. He shakes his head in amusement as his twisted sense of self continues to watch the window. “Is that what you think Chap? Last time I checked, when God wants us gone, he just washes it clean. Kind of like a final judgment deal. Not a survival of the fittest.”
    All around us, it is the same as it has been all morning. Never-ending terrors that even the darkest of plots never would dare to imagine, surrounding us, sipping from our humanity to feed their survival. I am still not sure which is worse. Is it when the screaming starts or when it ends?
    Both have their own signals for the events that are unfolding in crimson soaked colors. Is it what they are, that makes it so horrid? Is it their style of attacks, that make my blood run cold? Is it knowing what they do to those they attack, that makes my heart quiver with fear? Perhaps it is the truth of it all combined into one horrific package wrapped with a bright, shiny, blood-dripping bow.
    “They are the Risen.” says Chapel drawing a long sip from his beer. “And it is what we will all become. One by one, until there is no one left but the Devil himself to walk this earth.”
    No one has the voice to argue with him as we watch those that were sitting among us only moments ago being devoured before us. Aimes and I huddle together under the window, covering our ears from the remaining fading screams. Screams that will reach us no matter how deep of a sleep we shall ever again be blessed to reach.
    “What the hell happened here?” The voice startles everyone in the room. Rhett and Marxx reach for their holsters reactively as they spin to face the back of the room.
    J.D. does his normal chuckle at their reaction as he makes his way to us over the broken tables and the remains of many crushed glasses with Lawless behind him. We are at a loss for words as the two men who started all of this with such a simple act stand so calmly beside us now at the window. J.D. does not seem surprised to see that we are all that is left of the once filled room. He is eyeing the destruction with slight annoyance at missing a good show. I can feel Lawless’ guilt seeping from him like a wound, as he is watching the all too real horror show framed by the window. Each fading scream becoming another notch of failure he will wear forever upon his soul.
    “You left!” Aimes screams. “How could you do that? You left and they all freaked out. Went total white trash talk show at being left behind. The only thing missing was a “who’s your daddy” moment to complete it.”
    Her screams cause the Risen to pause. Slow hunting movements bring their focus to where we stand but the dark tinted glass used to keep prying eyes away protects us. Some stare transfixed, as if seeing their reflections for the first time. They stare confused at what is being shown back to them, cocking their heads left and right trying to figure out what is