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The gun clicked on empty. I threw the gun at it. One clawed hand batted it away. I didn’t bother trying the .22. If the Magnum couldn’t stop it, the .22 sure as hell couldn’t.

We started backing down the hallway. What else could we do? The monster pulled its twisted bulk after us. It was that same sliding sound that had chased Manny and I out of Dominga’s basement. I was looking at her caged horror.

The flesh between the different textures of skin, fur, and bone was seamless. No Frankenstein stitches. It was like the different pieces had melted together like wax.

I tripped over Cicely’s body, too busy watching the monster to see where my feet were. We sprawled across her body. Wanda screamed.

The monster scrambled forward. Misshapen hands grabbed at my ankles. I kicked at it, struggling to climb over Cicely’s body, away from it. A claw snagged in my jeans and pulled me towards it. It was my turn to scream. What had once been a man’s hand and arm wrapped around my ankle.

I grabbed onto Cicely’s body. Her flesh was still warm. The monster pulled us both easily. The extra weight didn’t slow it down. My hands scrambled at the bare wood floor. Nothing to hold on to.

I stared back at the thing. Eager rotting mouths yawned at me. Broken, discolored teeth, tongues working like putrid snakes in the openings. God!

Wanda grabbed my arm, trying to hold me, but without legs to brace she just succeeded in being pulled closer to the thing. “Let go!” I screamed it at her.

She did, screaming, “Anita!”

I was screaming myself, “No! Stop it! Stop it!” I put everything I had into that yell, not volume, but power. It was just another zombie, that was all. If it wasn’t under specific orders, it would listen to me. It was just another zombie. I had to believe that, or die.

“Stop, right now!” My voice broke with the edge of hysteria. I wanted nothing more than just to start screaming and never stop.

The monster froze with my foot halfway to one of its lower mouths. The mismatched eyes stared at me, expectantly.

I swallowed and tried to sound calm, though the zombie wouldn’t care. “Release me.”

It did.

My heart was threatening to come out my mouth. I lay back on the floor for a second, relearning how to breathe. When I looked up, the monster was still sitting there, waiting. Waiting for orders like a good little zombie.

“Stay here, do not move from this spot,” I said.

The eyes just stared at me, obedient as only the dead can be. It would sit there in the hallway until it got specific orders contradicting mine. Thank you, dear God, that a zombie is a zombie is a zombie.

“What’s happening?” Wanda asked. Her voice was broken into sobs. She was near hysterics.

I crawled to her. “It’s alright. I’ll explain later. We have a little time, but we can’t waste it. We’ve got to get out of here.”

She nodded, tears sliding down her bruised face.

I helped her up one last time. We limped towards the monster. Wanda shied away from it, pulling on my sore arm.

“It’s alright. It won’t hurt us, if we hurry.” I had no idea how close Dominga was. I didn’t want her changing the orders while we were right next to it. We stayed near the wall and squeezed past the thing. Eyes on the back of the body, if it had a back and a front, followed our progress. The smell from the running wounds was nearly overwhelming. But what was a little gagging between friends?

Wanda opened the door to the outside world. Hot summer wind blew our hair into spider silk strands across our faces. It felt wonderful.

Why hadn’t Gaynor and the rest come to the rescue? They had to have heard the gunshots and the screaming. The gunshots at least would have brought somebody.

We stumbled down three stone steps to the gravel of a turn around. I stared off into the darkness at hills covered in tall, waving grass and decaying tombstones. The house was the caretaker’s house at Burrell Cemetery. I wondered what Gaynor had done to the caretaker.

I started to lead Wanda away from