We're All Dead Here

By Glenda Norwood Petz

From the author of Ghost Girl and Hurricane comes a collection of her best horror short stories and novellas. We're All Dead Here contains ten tales of bone-chilling terror.

Snowbound finds a young woman stranded on a desolate highway during a blizzard, a road that she was warned to stay off of. Sheltered inside her car, she is being stalked by night creatures with a thirst for human blood.

In Midnight At the Morgue, night watchman, Carlo Ranerry, gets trapped in the basement morgue during a power outage – and he's not alone.

What was supposed to be a pleasure trip to New York City turns into a sky terror when the small private jet is hi-jacked in Flight of Fancy.

Other stories included are Autopsy, What Grows In the Garden, Riders On the Storm, Dentophobia, Kitty Kibbles, The Rocking Chair, and Scenic Route. All of these stories are nail-biting tales of fear that will haunt you long after you finish the book.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tiger Eye Publications
• Release date: Feb 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215659830

Glenda Norwood Petz

Native South Floridian now residing in Clarksville, Indiana.

Book preview

We're All Dead Here

Glenda Norwood Petz

Published by Tiger Eye Publications, 2023.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

WE'RE ALL DEAD HERE

First edition. February 13, 2023.

Copyright © 2023 Glenda Norwood Petz.

ISBN: 979-8215659830

Written by Glenda Norwood Petz.

Also by Glenda Norwood Petz

Chesterfield

Welcome To Cowbell, Daniel Chesterfield

DeeDee Olsen, Ghost Girl

Ghost Girl

The Children In the Woods

A Killing of Sparrows

Standalone

Apollyon's War

A Requiem for Revenge

Dream Weavers

The Fall of Autumn's Becoming

The Punishment Room

Hurricane

We're All Dead Here

The Meadows

Watch for more at Glenda Norwood Petz’s site.

We’re All Dead Here

A Collection of Horror Novellas and Short Stories

Vulture with solid fillGravestone with solid fill

Glenda Norwood Petz

All rights reserved.

Copyright© Glenda Norwood Petz, 2023

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by photostat, microfilm, xerography, or any other means, or incorporated into any information retrieval system, either electronic or mechanical, without the written permission of the copyright owner.

ISBN#: 

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Produced and manufactured in the USA.

MMXXIII

Printed and distributed in the United States of America

First Edition

Other titles by Glenda Norwood Petz:

A Requiem for Revenge

Ghost Girl

Hurricane

The Punishment Room

The Children In the Woods

Dream Weavers

The Fall of Autumn’s Becoming

Apollyon’s War

Welcome to Cowbell, Daniel Chesterfield

Table of Contents

Snowbound

Midnight At the Morgue

Autopsy

What Grows In the Garden

Riders On the Storm

Dentophobia

Kitty Kibbles

The Rocking Chair

Scenic Route

Flight of Fancy

Foreword

If you’re anything like me, you sometimes enjoy reading a gentle, heart-warming, short story to pass the time. Or perhaps to wind down from a frustrating day while sipping your warm cup of tea, coffee, or apple cider, instead of delving into a full-length book and reading several hundred pages while impatiently waiting to see what happens at the end.

Errrrrrrkkkkkkk… (that’s the sound of screeching brakes)

Oops. Forget all the above. Pardon me for giving the wrong introduction.

The stories contained in the pages of this book are not heart-warming. Nor are they gentle. They are about human beings and the many facets of human behavior they display, and the varying reactions they experience when subjected to certain critical situations.

Some readers might consider the stories terrifying. Others may feel their heart skip a beat. Circumstances faced by the characters in each individual tale will make your adrenaline pump at lightning speed. Don’t be surprised if you face an overwhelming sense of paranoia or find yourself constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure no one’s standing behind you.

Relax and light the fire. Close your curtains, lock your doors and windows, turn off all the lights, and whatever you do, don’t answer the phone.

Come, step out of your comfort zone and into my world of nightmares and dreamscapes.

See you on the other side.

GNP

1 – SNOWBOUND

A picture containing tree, outdoor, sky, snow Description automatically generated

If you’re warned to stay off a dangerous road, no matter the reason, you really should heed the advice. Especially in the middle of a treacherous snowstorm on a night with a full moon. Once you start down the path, there’s no turning back.

-----

Haley Fontana flipped on the windshield wipers when light snow began falling on the Pikeville Bypass. Within minutes, the snow turned into a heavy downpour with quarter-sized flakes, the white powder so dense that the high-speed wipers barely kept a path clear enough for her to see. The stifling air blasting through the defroster vent did little to help the situation. The precipitation continued to build up on the windshield faster than the heat could melt it.

Accumulation alongside and on the roadway was quickly deepening. If the snow continued falling as heavily as it was at the moment, driving conditions would become dangerously hazardous. The complete whiteout would become so disorienting that it would render any attempt of safely maneuvering her vehicle through the sludge impossible. She wouldn’t be able to tell if she was driving on the blacktop or through an empty field.

She cursed herself silently for choosing to take the bypass. She’d promised Bill that she’d travel the Interstate. Since the bypass provided a quicker route, and because blizzard conditions weren’t supposed to have begun until well after she’d reached White Mountain, she’d opted at the last minute to take the road less traveled and reach her destination faster.

She shouldn’t be traveling in the first place. Instead of blaming herself, she should be blaming her predicament on her brother, Bill, for manipulating her into making the trip when he knew she didn’t want to. As usual, what Bill wanted, Bill got.

It’s his eightieth birthday, Haley. You can’t alter your plans to come here and visit your father?

Christmas is two months away, Bill.

That may be so, Haley, but his birthday is next week. It’s a surprise party and having you there would make the event even better. He’s been wanting to see you. What a better time to surprise him than his birthday?

Here it comes, she’d thought. The same old song and dance that Bill was a master at delivering, reminding her that she was the one who’d chosen to move away and wasn’t the one remaining close enough to home to ensure the safety and well-being of their aging father, blah blah blah.

Bill, I was there only a few months ago. I can’t make a four-hour drive every weekend to visit. I have a job, you know, and gas isn’t free.

You wouldn’t have to worry about making a four-hour drive and spending money on gas if you hadn’t left.

Rich words coming from a man who made a seven-figure annual salary and was chauffeured around in a black limousine while wearing two-thousand-dollar suits. He was of the opinion that everyone should be able to afford the same things that he could, all while forgetting that he hadn’t come from a wealthy family and got through college on scholarships and student loans.

Why didn’t you let me know about dad’s party while I was there?

It wasn’t planned then. The party was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Dad’s not getting any younger, and I wanted to do something special for him this year. If you’ve got more important things to do, then by all means, do them. I’ll simply explain to dad that you couldn’t spare the time, or money, to come and see him.

I’m not going to argue with you, Bill, she said angrily. I’ll either come now for his birthday or in December for Christmas. Not both. You decide which one.

Exhibiting his frustration by sighing heavily into the phone, they’d mutually agreed that she’d come for his birthday. She wondered now if she’d make it to his celebration at all.

Leaning forward, she clutched the steering wheel tightly as she squinted through the windshield, struggling to see in front of her. Caught in the tempest of the storm, she now regretted her choice of roadways and wished that she’d listened to Bill the night before when he’d phoned to make sure she hadn’t changed her mind about making the trip.

Wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re still coming.

I’m leaving work early tomorrow, she told him. I’ll go home and pack an overnight bag then be on my way.

What time might that be? I’d like to know when to expect you.

I’ll leave here around one.

Which means you should arrive here sometime around five or so.

Yes, Haley replied.

Sounds good. One other thing, Haley.

What?

I know you usually take the bypass when you come to White Mountain. Please avoid it this time.

Why would I do that? It’s a much quicker route.

That’s true, but a blizzard is heading that way and the last place you want to get stuck in a snowstorm is on that long, lonely stretch of highway in the middle of nowhere.

Bill, the storm isn’t due to come through until after I reach White Mountain.

Haley, you know as well as I do that winter storms are unpredictable. The meteorologists might tell you it won’t hit until six, and then it strikes several hours ahead of its predicted arrival. Don’t take foolish chances. Stick to the freeway. Promise me you will.

Alright, alright, she grunted. I won’t take the bypass.

Except that she hadn’t kept her word, and once she finally arrived at Bill’s and explained to him why she was so late getting there, he’d tear into her the same way a child rips open a shiny package on Christmas morning.

She’d driven the bypass many times and knew there wasn’t much along the entire stretch of highway other than a scattering of houses and farms. However, if she were forced to try to locate any of them in an emergency amidst a snow covered landscape, it’d be the equivalent of attempting to find a light switch in a pitch black room while blindfolded. It was more important than ever that she take her time, drive slowly, and be extra cautious. She estimated that she’d been on the bypass for approximately twenty minutes. Under normal driving conditions, it took about an hour to get from the bypass onramp to the Interstate. With the heavy snowfall she was currently experiencing, the usual amount of time it took was likely to take three times as long. If she could make it to the Interstate without incident, she’d finally be able to relax more and worry less. Driving would become a hell of a lot easier and much safer on a roadway that’d been plowed.

Haley drew in a deep breath and slowly released it. Stay calm and keep your eyes on the road, she muttered, glancing down at the large plastic cup in the console between the two front seats, recalling the eerie conversation she’d had with the men at the general store where she’d stopped to buy the coffee.

Two elderly gentlemen were sitting at the end of the counter playing checkers when she’d entered the store, not even bothering to look up when she let the screen door bang closed.

With his concentration remaining focused on his game, a man wearing a black and red flannel shirt and black suspenders asked, What can I getcha?

Coffee.

Over yonder, he said, pointing to the back of the store. It’s self-serve.

Your move, Gordy, the second man said. We ain’t got all night.

King me, Haley heard Gordy say with a deep chuckle. You’re such a dumbass, Earl. You ain’t never gonna learn how to play this game.

One more round, Earl said, sliding the plastic checkers off the board and onto the countertop.

Haley placed the coffee on the counter and removed a five-dollar bill from the pocket of her jacket.

Suspendered Gordy, who she guessed was the proprietor of the country store, rose from his barrel chair and stood in front of the cash register.

Where ya headed to, miss?

White Mountain. She nearly laughed aloud when she got a good look at the tin buttons affixed to the straps of his suspenders, one above each silver buckle. I LIKE IKE! the red, white, and blue one read. NIXON FOR PRESIDENT! was emblazoned across a photo of the disgraced man flashing his infamous double peace signs. "I am not a crook," she thought sourly, wondering if the old man actually knew who the current president was, or if he was forever lost in the long-gone days of yore.

You ain’t drivin’ the bypass, are ya?

As a matter of fact, I am.

You know there’s a blizzard comin’ don’tcha? he asked. Drivin’ that road ain’t a smart idea.

The storm won’t arrive for several more hours, she told him. I’ll be in White Mountain way before it gets here.

Gordy shook his head and tucked his thumbs beneath the straps of his suspenders, tugging on the elastic. I wouldn’t bet on that if’n I was you. Storms are unpredictable, he stated matter-of-factly, rocking back and forth on his heels. You’d be better off stickin’ to the Interstate and not takin’ any unnecessary chances.

Have you been talking to my brother?

Can’t say as I know your brother, so the answer is no, I ain’t been talkin’ to him.

He said the exact same thing to me on the phone last night.

You shoulda listened to him.

Gordy’s eyes shifted suspiciously from her to Earl, who was strategically studying the checkerboard trying to figure out his next move.

Why, if somethin’ were to happen to you out there, ‘specially during a storm like what’s comin’, ain’t nobody gonna come after you. Ain’t no tellin’ how long you’d be stranded before somebody happened along to help you out. You’d best take the advice of me and your brother and stay off the bypass, he said in an ominous tone, glaring at her through piercing green eyes. Noticing her puzzled expression, he said, What I mean to say is that storms can sometimes have a mind of their own. This one ain’t gonna be no different. It’ll hit when it feels like it, not when the weatherman tells it to. Gordy paused momentarily as he studied her. Haley wondered if he was waiting for her to contradict him. When she remained silent, he continued. Not only that, but there’s ‘sposed to be a full moon tonight, too.

What does that have to do with anything?

Could spell trouble, Gordy replied, scratching his whiskered chin. A full moon with a heavy snowstorm ain’t never a good combination. It does somethin’ to a person’s head, he said, tapping his temple with a finger. Makes ‘em act weird and do crazy shit. Ain’t that right, Earl?

Earl grunted but didn’t reply.

Dumb son of a bitch, Gordy groaned. Sittin’ there starin’ at them checkers like he’s gonna win. Been playin’ together for more’n fifty years and he ain’t beat me yet.

Haley laughed. I’ll keep an eye out for moon-crazed fanatics, she said. Even if the snow comes while I’m still on the bypass, there’re snow chains on my tires. I’ll be fine.

Gordy threw his head back and chuckled heartily. Snow chains? he guffawed. Them thangs’ll be as worthless as tits on a boar hog when the snow is ten feet deep, he exclaimed. Unlessen you got skis on your tires, you ain’t likely to make it all the way to the Interstate. If’n it starts to snow heavily, I mean, he finished. The Interstate is routinely cleared by snowplows to keep the flow of traffic going. Won’t get that on the bypass. Once the snow starts comin’ down, it’ll stay there ‘til it melts or ‘til a bunch of locals go out there and plow it themselves.

Ma’am? Haley was startled by a man’s deep voice behind her.

Geez! she cried, twirling around. Do you always sneak up on people like that?

I didn’t sneak, ma’am. Been standin’ here nearly as long as you.

He must’ve already been inside the store when she came in because she hadn’t seen or heard anyone else enter after her. Surely she would’ve heard the screen door slam if they had. She gazed at the sheriff’s deputy who held a bag of potato chips and bottle of apple juice in one hand, a wax paper wrapped pickle in the other.

Is there something you want to say? Haley asked.

I don’t normally make it my business to stick my nose into the affairs of others, but you really should listen to old Gordy here and avoid the bypass. Tonight ain’t a good night to be out there.

I’ll be long gone before nightfall, she assured him.

The deputy glanced at his watch. Well, he said. It’s a little after three right now. You’re looking at an hour or more until you reach I-75. Weather willing, he added. Starts getting dark in these parts about five, so you’d best hope the snow holds off until then or else you could get stranded out there. Trust me, you don’t want that to happen.

I appreciate everyone’s concern, she told him. But I think you’re all overreacting to circumstances that haven’t yet happened, and probably won’t.

Perhaps, the deputy said. If you insist on going that way, then it’s my duty to inform you that we’ve been receiving complaint calls recently from up and down the bypass.

About? Haley asked.

Suspicious activity is the only way I know how to describe it, he answered, placing his items on the counter. Destroyed crops, farm animals and pets going missing, he explained as he removed his wallet from a back pocket. Some of them were found eventually. Dead. Ripped to shreds, he said with an icy glare.

Haley glanced back and forth between Gordy and the deputy. Earl remained bent over the checkerboard, patiently waiting for Gordy to return to their game. He wasn’t at all interested in the current topic of conversation. Apparently, he took the game of checkers quite seriously since he hadn’t once taken his eyes off the board since she’d entered the store.

Sounds like wildlife hunting prey to me, she said with a smile.

Can’t be sure of that, ma’am, the deputy said. So far, none of the complainants have been able to identify the culprit.

There’re all types of wild animals around here, right? Haley asked. Wolves, coyotes, bears.

Among other things, the deputy answered.

I may not be an expert on animal behavior, but if I had to take a wild guess, I’d say one of the animals I mentioned is responsible. Wouldn’t you agree?

The deputy shrugged. "Other than a few houses and farms here and