The Undead Nation Anthology. Zombies, Werewolves, Vampires, Aliens, and other Fantastic and Horrible Beings.

By Calvin A. L. Miller II

The Undead Nation Anthology is a Horror/SciFi/Fantasy Anthology that includes 11 authors who won The Undead Nation Short Fiction Contest, as well as the winner of Crypticon Seattle's 2010 Writing Contest.

All net proceeds from the sale of this book will be donated to breast cancer charities. The Authors, Creators, and Publisher graciously gave their stories, time, and effort to this cause.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Calvin A. L. Miller II
• Release date: Aug 9, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452445465

Calvin A. L. Miller II

I love horror, scifi, and zombies and I always try to write what I've never read, or even seen. I'm an indy writer publisher and love it. If you wanna talk about, well anything, email me at [e-mail] or Facebook me at www.facebook.com/cal.miller2.Take Care,Cal

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The Undead Nation Anthology

By

Zilyon Publishing

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Zilyon Publishing on Smashwords

The Undead Nation Anthology

Copyright© 2010 Zilyon Publishing

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Zilyon Publishing, Inc.

4094 Fountainside Lane

Fairfax, VA 22030

www.ZilyonPublishing.com

[e-mail]

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Dedicated to each and every one of the Authors who contributed to this book.

Thank you for all of your hard work.

Net proceeds from the sale of this book will be donated to breast cancer charities.

The Authors, Creators, and Publisher of this Anthology graciously gave their stories, their time, and their effort to this cause.

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The Undead Nation Anthology includes 11 authors who won The Undead Nation Short Fiction Contest, as well as the winner of Crypticon Seattle's 2010 Writing Contest.

CONTENTS

P. H. Clarke- I Will Let The Warm Blood Drive My Thoughts

JZ Murdock- Gumdrop City

Rhonda E. Kachur- Rebecca

Drew McKay- The Eye in the Mirrors

T.L. Mitchell- Silver Moon

Audy Mytron- Entire Journal

Lyle Perez-Tinics- Dement

Jenna M. Pitman- I am Become Death

Christina Rause- A Walk Deferred

Erik Tavares- Wocka Wocka Bridge (Crypticon Seattle Winner)

Holly K. Wood- Decapoda Animusicide

Opal Zushaquon- The Blighted Legacy of Nicanor Lavan

Alan R. Gandy- Satan's Cadaver

Calvin A. L. Miller II- Cold Blood: The End

About the Authors

Other Books

Original Cover Design and Artwork by Alan R. Gandy

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I WILL LET THE WARM BLOOD DRIVE MY THOUGHTS: THE MEMORIES OF ADAM CARLYLE

By P. H. CLARKE

1

My name is Adam Carlyle; I once had a normal life. I was once a middle aged hard working man working his way to retirement. I had a beautiful family; my wife, my daughter, my son. Everything was taken away from me in a matter of hours. Taken away by a mysterious man, a man I will never know. Taken away by me, a man I thought I knew.

The snowy New York night pierced my skin as I left my house. The unforgiving winds stab every revealed pore of my skin. I start my truck and turn on the heater. I let the warm blast of air hit my frozen face. The warm embrace traveled through my body like a hot cup of coffee. I sat there for a minute enjoying the heat, debating on if I should really go through with my routine to work this evening. Why are you still going at this, I thought to myself as I sat there. Fifteen years, the same job, the same small town, the same winter bullshit. The night shift was worth being able to see the kids when they get home from school, but that was about it.

I reluctantly got out of the car, the image of my little girl’s eyes getting me to the next step of the painstaking task of getting to work on a night like this. I left the truck running. I could see the frost slowly melting down the windows. I grabbed my snowbrush from the back seat and began wiping the snow off of my truck.

I paused for a moment as a crackling from the distant trees drew my attention. My heart skipped a beat. It has always been a little spooky at night living in the country. I gazed over at the trees expecting to see an animal make his way into the moonlight. No such luck tonight. I finished clearing away the rest of the snow and got into my truck. Well old girl, how are you doing tonight? I asked my rumbling companion. I’m not quite sure if it is normal to speak to your vehicle the way I do, but when you work at night, why not? It gets pretty lonely this time of night. Tonight’s a cold one isn't it old girl? I continued asking my truck. The more I talk the more I don’t believe she listens.

I put her into drive and made my way down the dark snowy road. The moonlight reflected off of the transparent snow, creating a beautiful scene. The wind was howling at me as I cracked my window to light my cigarette. It seemed nobody was out and about on this particular night. Usually I see old Red, one of the better known cops in this town, sitting, waiting at his perch off of Main Street. It is usually Red’s naptime around this time of night and this is where he usually sleeps.

No cars were around as I sat at yet another pointless red light. I eagerly anticipated it to automatically change as I arrived. Green, I slowly started down the road again as the big snowflakes poured from the sky. I glanced at the local grocery store to see if there was anybody around. The usual amounts of cars were sitting in the parking lot. The lights were still on in the store. I suppose I shouldn’t be too worried. Maybe nobody is going out tonight. A few more turns down a few more roads and I will be there. Another ten hours of welding. Another shitty drive back to the house and that will call it a day.

I loved the job when I first started. That seems like an eternity ago. As everything in life, it got old fast. I feel like a mindless drone while I am there, another drone of society. I grew up here, had all kinds of aspirations and dreams, but no drive, no ambition. Now I've been working in this factory for fifteen years and have practically no savings to show for it, just hope for a retirement check so I don’t have to work as much anymore. My qualms with my current life situation were numerous, maybe this is what a mid life crisis is. I don’t know. I’m certain it’s too late to change any of that now though.

It was too quiet, I turned the radio up. I started listening to some of my favorite classics; it’s ironic how the music which came out when I was a younger kid is now considered oldies. I’m still unsure when that change had occurred, but it sure makes me sound old. I guess it makes me feel old too.

The snow started to get heavier. I turned on my brights as I turned down Prescott Road. No lights on this road made it really difficult to drive on a dark snowy night. I slowed down practically to a halt to pass the bumpy train tracks, the same tracks my best friend had died on twenty years ago. We were just two young kids, messing around, being adventurous, and drinking a few stolen beers in our usual spot. We walked down the slick tracks as if we had no cares in the world. There weren't at the time until Johnny Fairfield got caught on the tracks. Johnny's ankle was held tight after he had slipped off of the rail. I tried to help him out; me and him were joking and laughing about it. It was funny until we heard the deep demonic horns of the train making its way toward us. Johnny was at a loss for words. I desperately tried to pull him out, but it was of no use. I told Johnny everything would be ok. Johnny’s face turned white as if he was already dead. I loosened my grasp on Johnny’s shoulders and sprinted down the tracks toward the train as fast as I could. I could see the speeding train; it was about four hundred meters from where Johnny was stuck. I jumped up and down waving my hands, screaming at the train furiously to stop. The train kept advancing closer and closer. The ghosts driving the train paid no attention to my desperate attempts to get it to stop. As soon as I realized this I started to run back toward Johnny as I was still flailing and screaming at the train. It was too late. The train hadn’t seen me. I stopped my sprint a few feet away from Johnny, promising him everything would be alright.

I watched my best friend get hit by a train that day. I will always remember those vivid images. I will always remember Johnny's screams. I will always remember my broken promise. Johnny was hit so hard by the train it severed his legs instantly. One leg soared into a ditch; the other hit me in the chest, knocking me over. A mist of blood rained down where I was standing, where Johnny was. The blood sprayed onto my body, my face. I panicked, quickly arose and mounted my bike, riding as fast as I could to anyone nearby who could help. I kept thinking to myself Johnny would be ok.

I snapped back from those vivid memories as a pothole about ate my truck. Fucking roads! I yelled in anger. Fucking state workers, do a fucking real job next time! I knew this pothole was there, I drive down this road every night. The thought of Johnny's tragic death always angers me. I have one more mile until I arrive at work. I lit another cigarette as the previous had burned out on me while I was stuck in those memories. Usually Johnny’s memory doesn't cross into my thoughts passing the tracks, but there was something about this night that rubbed me the wrong way.

2

I pulled into my usual parking space, slowly sliding to a stop. I rolled my window up and grabbed my coffee. I'll see you later old girl came out of my mouth as I started to walk toward the main entrance of my building. The warmth of the building and my coffee awoke my weary dead self again as I walked in. I started down the hall and entered the work yard. Earl was standing there greeting me back to this black hole of dreams, Hey there Adam, good morning. Earl tried to joke as usual. I looked around, taking notice of the few people who were actually working and glanced back at my boss Earl and mumbled back to him as good as it's gonna get. I never really liked Earl, I've been in this company forever and he comes five years ago with his college degree and his corporate experience, becoming my boss. Earl really doesn't know shit. I got to my workbench and pulled out my tools.

Over the years these tools have practically been an extension of my body. Sometimes I walk around thinking they are in my hands. They just aren't there. I set up for my daily work. The workload has become less and less, with newer companies starting to emerge, stealing all of the contracts. It's hard to imagine the U.S. of A is letting all of these foreign companies hold such a great status in the American economy. What do I know though? I’m just an average middle class welder. I'm not a high paid, big wig floor manager.

Four hours pass, the weather outside just as miserable as before. I make it out on a smoke break, my flannel coat still damp from the heavy snowflakes from my last smoke break. I enjoy my cigarette the best I can as the wind blows strong, forcing the cherry to burn faster. I step back inside ready to get back at it again and spot Earl approaching, Adam I’m going to need you to head out early tonight. I knew work was getting light but I didn’t think we would start cutting back on hours this soon. How am I going to support my family? This job is all I know, probably all I will ever know. I glared at Earl, You got it Earl. I know fucking Earl isn’t going home early. The anger pulsed through me. Don’t say anything; it’s always better to keep your mouth shut. I’ve almost lost my job, more than once.

3

It was three ten when I clocked out and headed back to the truck. Short night old girl, I said approaching her. I hope you’ve been keeping warm. I again started her up and went through the all too familiar process of getting her ready for the road again. The thick snow enveloped her. Seven minutes pass and I get in her. I turned the radio on to keep me company for the whole ride as I lit my cigarette with an old Zippo. The flint crackled as the wood near the house did earlier.

I think I'll make the kids some breakfast before they head to school; I haven't been able to do that in a long time. Maybe get some flowers for the wife and score some extra points. My family has been everything. My kids aren’t the smartest people at times, but they’re young. There are the occasional arguments with the wife, nothing ever too major, but all in all, they are everything I really have. Sometimes I wish to think I can play a better part in their lives, be more than the guy who works all night and sleeps all day. I live in a real world though, and deal with an all too real life.

I pulled out of the parking lot right after a snow plow scraped its way through. By the second the roads were still being covered with a continuous layer of snow. I can feel old girl now slipping slightly. I realized it was kind of a relief to actually see the snow plows as I made my way back into town. Who were they plowing for? The roads are still empty, something caught my eye. I slowly approached a parked car which was turned on and had the driver side door wide open into Main Street. The car was parked next to Jerry’s an old convenient store that’s been on Main Street ever since I could remember. I looked around sharply to find nothing. I told myself it was nothing and continued driving. The old curious part of me wanted to investigate, but those adventurous days died with Johnny. Now if it doesn't concern me or my family it's simply not worth it.

I finally made it back to my road, Murduck Road, happy to be back, happy to be able to see my wife's beautiful blue eyes and my two children. What are you thinking? Are you afraid of something? Maybe I was. The windy, heartless night took every feeling out of my body. My hands began to stiffen as I approached the driveway. I looked about forty meters in the distance to discover those bastard snow plows decided it would be a great idea to block off my driveway. This infuriated me. I am so angry, but can’t express it. I pulled to the side of the road and got out of the old girl. I'll be back for ya darlin', I said, assuring her she won’t be left on the road overnight.

I slowly made my way to the house a good fifty meter walk or so, we had a long driveway, a long yard, a house surrounded by nature. This place is my sanctuary, a tundra in the winter, but nonetheless my sanctuary. I finally made it to the house as those last footsteps crunched the snow I reached for the shovel on the side of the house. I walked back daydreaming twenty minutes into the future where I’m sitting in the kitchen of my warm house, fresh coffee and crossword in hand. I finally arrived back to the mound of snow laying at the edge of my driveway. I still can't believe these assholes would do this sort of thing. Maybe it was a new guy. I speared the shovel into the mound and took out my pack of smokes. Protecting the flame with my flannel jacket I started to light my cigarette. As I did the wind began to die down and the snow came to a mild stop. I looked up to the sky, Well here's to you, I said, referring to what may be some form of Supreme Being. I pulled the lighter out of my jacket and was able to light my cigarette unscathed by the sounds of nothing. It was very silent now, I can hear myself inhale and exhale as I puff away on my smoke. I can hear my steady heart beat. Maybe this isn’t the best habit to go about having but it sure gives me something to look forward to. I began to shovel as my cigarette was half gone, stuck to my lips. The beats of my heart increased as the work at hand and the rise of blood pressure took its toll. I can hear each quick beat. It was so suspiciously quiet. My cigarette is almost gone. The crunch of slow footsteps surrounded my ears. Wait. Who is that? I slowly turned hoping it is just an animal of some kind. What I saw was far worse.

I began praying that it’s only a deer, or a dog. I saw a rumbling shadow of what appears to be a person. I strained my eyes, attempting to make out the slowly moving figure in the dark. It finally emerged from the shadows. It’s a younger intelligent looking man, probably in his late twenties, but who I did not know. The mysterious man is tall, probably about six foot three. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in years. The man has dark eyes, filling his thick half broken glasses. The look of this guy fit the mood of the night. My heart skipped a few beats. He had a simple beard for the cold season. Who was this guy? I practically know everyone in this town, and have never seen this man before. I gazed down looking at his clothes. His coat and shirt are torn where there is a large gash in his abdomen. I went into shock. My first reaction alarmed me to help this guy. I ran over to him as he was still creeping toward me. I wanted to help; maybe there still is hope for him out here. I almost reached him, are you alright? Sir, are you okay? I fervently asked. A concerned expression was glued to my face. I caught a slight glimpse back at the man’s eyes; they have a slight red glaze to them. The man didn't speak a word. I was finally a few feet away from him at the ready to express what I could do to help. The man started to grumble and moan at me.

I was stunned as he quickly grabbed my shoulders. I did what I could to push him away, but he was relentless. The snow started to pick back up and the wind began howling through the field across the road from my house. The man leaned in closer, fast. The only reaction I had in the close assault was to knee him in the balls. This had no effect as he rapidly inched forward. The world slowed down; time stopped as the man opened his mouth wide, wider than any normal human. The sound waves finally spurted through my vocal cord and I produced a lame scream. I felt frozen, my body paralyzed by fear, but my mind focused on getting away from this man.

His teeth bit down hard into my neck. I produced a much louder scream this time as he bit so hard and deep into my flesh. My desperate pleas for help were smothered by the howling gusts. He tore a chunk of the right side of my neck off. The man’s teeth were like razorblades. I could see the flesh dangling from the man’s mouth and continued screaming, struggling. The man kept chewing on the piece of my neck as he ferociously attacked again. I turned slightly gathering just the right amount of strength for that perfect moment when I swung the man to the ground. He man took me with him. The man continued coming after me and bit my side as we were entangled on the ground. When my frantic attempt to escape the crazed mans cannibalistic mouth succeeded I could hear his teeth snapping at me, knowing they were going to come for me again. I let out one last scream as the man bit into my arm. He tore a chunk out of my left arm as I continued to struggle.

The man stopped, looked up and sniffed very loudly through his nostrils like a hound. The abyss of the man’s eyes refocused as if he had found a new prey, a new target. God only knows who and what just happened, but the man left me. He left me on the ground bleeding to death, chunks of my flesh lying next to me.

I made a shrewd attempt at another scream, but no sound escaped my dry lips. I watched the man stumble away. I began to slowly crawl through the blood ridden snow to my house. This is my blood. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I crawled inch by inch. My fluttered gasps of air going unheard, swept by the constant wind. I can feel each flake of snow hit my skin. I know my only hope is to get to the house. My inexpressible pain was so great. My grip on the snow was clenching as if I had a welding torch in my hand. I made it twenty feet, wondering to myself where the time had gone. What was really two minutes felt like two hours. I grew weary. You can do this, get to the phone, I tried to encourage myself thoughtfully. When the horrifying man bit my neck it must have had some sort of effect on my speech. Then again maybe I was too scared to even scream. This man had an unruly presence about him, as if he were of something of pure evil.

I started to day dream again, wishing in only mere seconds my wife would be out to help me. I was almost there, my legs started to go numb. The sensations of death crept through my body. This must be what death feels like. I need to keep these thoughts out of my head. I can barely move my legs now, I was dragging my body by the centimeter now using my arms the best I can. I can feel my right hand start to fade. I had no feeling in it anymore. Maybe it is frost bitten by now. I was able to get a mere glance at it during its last use; it had turned a faint shade of blue. There is a trail of blood following my every movement. I have to survive. I started using my left arm and pulled myself another inch, wasting all the strength I had left. My left hand went just as my right one did. I can feel the tingling sensation it brought with it leading up my arm. As it slowly spread up my arm it reached where I was bitten. The pain in the bite slowly subsided. What is going on? I had no more use for my limbs. The numbness had spread throughout them. I made another failing attempt at screaming one last time. A short gasp poured through my mouth forming the short syllable, Help. The soft desperate word was demolished by the air. The oxygen which filled my lungs deflated, it was hard to breathe. The tingling numbness spread from my lungs to the bite on my side. At that same moment the numbness was also traveling like a heart attack to the bite on my neck. The agonizing pain speeding through my nerves began to subside.

Seven minutes had passed since my first encounter with this mysterious man. Life as I knew it is gone. I had seen my family for the last time. I will no longer worry about anything the rest of my life. These thoughts kept racing through my mind. All feeling escaped my body. I can see the bite on my arm still dripping blood like a leaky faucet compared to the thrashing wave that was previously protruding from it. I began to enter into a panic. My dying life is now in the hands of the grim winter night. The tingling sensation had traveled throughout my entire body, paralyzing me as my head lay in the snow. All I have left are my thoughts. All I can do is watch the world around me in my last few moments of precious life.

I noticed I stopped blinking, as if my eyes were frozen open. I focused on the tree line to the right side of my house. I stared through my tunnel vision to see a frightened white rabbit. A creature so pure was now witnessing my demise. I could see into the rabbit’s soul. The little guy had the same fear as I. A terrified look on his white face, a small scrunched nose, almost as if he witnessed the same evil. The rabbit sat staring back at me, watching me lay in the snow bloody and lifeless. A gust of wind blew snow between me and the rabbit’s locked eyes. The snow gust subsided and the creature was gone.

I