Trailer Park Zombies

I moved the curtain and held it aside with one hand. It definitely hadn’t rained yet although I could see the lightning flickering off and on in the distance. Maybe we’d lucked out this time and missed the rain. Driving and walking through the gravel in the Acres was a pain at any time, let alone if it was wet with rain.

The Acres was completely and utterly dark. No street lights or gas lamps came from any of the trailers. I glanced at my watch: 3:00am. The witching hour. It was doubtful anyone was still up and most people would have just rolled over once they saw the lights were off. Nothing that needed to be dealt with this late at night.

I’d slept for a little over two hours and even though I’d been heavy with exhaustion when I lay down I was now completely awake. My heart still thudded a little bit in my chest. I couldn’t shake the feeling of the dreams and the wrongness that had pervaded it. Even though I could see nothing looking out my window it still seemed like things were a little off.

I’m sure it was just the nerves of what had occurred barely three hours ago, but still. I felt wired.

From my window I could see the back end of Barrett’s car and I could tell that something didn’t look right but I couldn’t figure out what it was. It seemed off, too. I knew his dad would kill him if something happened to that car and since I was wide awake anyway I figured I might as well go outside and check it out. He didn’t deserve to get in trouble over me. I’d shield him and Fannie Mae from everything that happened as much as I could.

There’s no way the cops wouldn’t zero in immediately on the trailer park and Tamara; and I had no faith that she’d be able to not say anything. I didn’t blame her at all, of course. She’d do whatever she needed to protect herself. There was a small chance that the cops would believe he’d raped her and she’d fought him off and knocked him into the monument and killed him. If they did that’d be the end of it, but there really wasn’t much chance of that happening. I’d watched enough CSI and Law and Order.

I picked a shirt up off the floor and put my shoes on. Hopefully no one in the park had messed with Barrett’s car. It was too nice of a car to park in a shithole like this and that was more likely than not to have attracted a few vandals. If there were scratches on it or dog crap thrown on the windshield at least I’d know who to go to: Donny Marsters across the way. He was 14, a freshman like Fannie Mae, and the resident leader of the pack of hoodlums. If someone’s car was broken into or something was missing from your trailer he was the one to go to. His mom almost always made him give the stuff back but it never seemed to stop him.

I grabbed my flashlight off my dresser. I kept one there for emergencies and for bathroom runs in the middle of the night. If mom or dad happened to be home and sleeping and I managed to wake them up there would invariably be a lot of screaming and yelling and general dismay. It was best to just avoid the problem. I never flushed either, but mom always blamed it on dad and dad never remembered if he’d flushed or not.

It always gave me the giggles when mom sat in the pee because I forgot to put the seat up and screamed at dad to come in there. I’d seen her get up and make dad sit on the wet toilet seat to see how he liked it. That one never got old.

Regardless, I slipped out the front door to the trailer (yes, trailers have back doors, too) and flicked the light on. I cocked my head at the total silence. Usually at least one dog or two was always barking. Hell, the Marsters had their own little pack of yipping mutts. And not one dog was making a sound. I shrugged and turned to Barrett’s car, letting the light play on the side of the car I’d seen from my bedroom window.

I froze, the light shaking in my hand.

Holy crap. Who would do this? Not even Donny Marsters would have done something like this. Deep gouges ran down the length of the soft top. It hung in tatters around its metal frame. It was caked in filth that looked like mud. All of the windows were coated in filth as well. I thought it was mud until I took several steps closer to the car and played the light on it fully.

Dark, red blood coated all the windows. Streaked as if someone had dragged their hands through it completely. It looked like someone had tried to wash the windows in blood. Or like something bloody had tried to get in the car from all angles and finally decided to tear through the top to get in.

I felt my heart rising in my chest again and tried to swallow it back down. My throat was suddenly as dry as an AA meeting. Maybe I should go back inside and check this out in the morning.

I backed away from the car. Took two whole steps and then collided into something that felt as solid as a tree. Something that hadn’t been there 30 seconds before when I’d walked through that space.

Oh shit.

4.

I drew in my breath to scream and that was when the thing reached out and put its hand over my mouth. It whispered my name, “Duke. Duke.”

I struggled to free myself and that was when it registered that the voice speaking my name was Barrett’s. I slumped back against him.

“Bastard,” I said. “You scared the crap out of me.” I turned to him and he had that usual grin on his face, spreading his arms in a shrug as if to ask me what I expected. He was right. It was Barrett, what else should I expect?

He obviously hadn’t seen his car yet.

“You looked like you were already spooked,” he said. “I figured if I called out your name or tried to grab you or anything you’d freak out and wake up the whole trailer park. Last thing we need is a trailer park posse out here at 3 A.M. What had you spooked, anyway?”

Wordlessly I pointed the flashlight at his car. I think the shock got to him because he didn’t react for a few seconds. Then with a cry he launched himself toward the car. It was my turn to hold him back. I grabbed his arm and wouldn’t let go. He fought to get free, putting pressure on my weak leg, but I wouldn’t let go.

Finally he stopped struggling and looked at me. “What? Let me go. I have to see what they did to my dad’s car. He’ll kill me.”

I shook my head at him. “Barrett, look. That’s blood all over the car.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, Duke.” He looked at the car as if to point out to me how it wasn’t blood but his voice just trailed off as I raked the flashlight over the car, lingering over some of the worst spots. It was very apparent that it was blood in the light of the flashlight.