NIGHT OF THE CATTLE MUTILATORS
Pt. 8
The Agents and Deputy Shea stepped out into the blazing desert sun – but already, long shadows crept from their van, betraying the approaching night. Jo raised her face to the daylight and gulped the cotton-dry air greedily. Open space, no maggoty soup, no zombies –
The others were preoccupied with tossing the bound and gagged Russian scientist into the back of their van. Shea ran to his cruiser, tried the radio. “No luck!” he shouted across to them. “Too much interference!“
“We can beat them back to the town, right?” Stephen fired up the van, called over to the Deputy as he climbed into his cruiser. Deputy Shea shook his head.
“The mines are a straight shot back to the town. We can’t go overland, we’ve got to follow the road –“
“Less talking!” Ross shouted, leaping into the van as it tore off in a dust cloud. “More driving like hell!”
Sunset over Fairview was gorgeous that evening, high pink clouds scudding across a deepening blue sky. The surrounding red rocks and desert dropped to a scarlet hue. In the town square, Sheriff Glick stood outside his office, working a wad of chaw. He arched an eyebrow as the Hoffman Institute van and the Deputy’s cruiser slewed up next to him in a cloud of dust.
“Hey, fellers, what’s the –“
SLAM. Deputy Shea was out of his car and crashing into the Sheriff in one smooth motion. The Sheriff’s gun went flying. Shea pulled his own piece, pointed it at Glick’s head. Andy placed his hand on Shea’s shoulder. “Arrest him. We have too many unanswered questions.”
After a long moment, the Deputy nodded. He brutally SLASHED across Glick’s face with his revolver, then flipped the semi-conscious small-town serial killer and cuffed him. Andy and the Deputy pulled Glick to his feet.
By now, a sizeable crowd was gathering in the town square. The ranchers stood outside the diner, craning their necks. The man in the wheelchair and his wife were crossing from the day care. The local Reverend shooed his own family toward the small white church. Stephen stepped forward, cleared his throat. “Folks, there’s nothing to worry about. We’re federal authorities, and we’ve discovered that the Sheriff here is involved with –“
“ZOMBIES!”
“No, no,” Stephen assured them, waving his hands dismissively. “He’s not wrapped up with --“
“F*&$#ing ZOMBIES!” Johanna drew both guns, pointed to the edge of town.
There, arrayed in a huge line, a seething mass of one hundred ZOMBIES shuffled forward! The ranchers cried out, raced for their shotguns in their trucks as some of the undead lurched from around the corner of the diner. The arrest of the Sheriff had been enough of a distraction for the zombies to approach unseen!
“What they HEL-AGGH-YURRKK!” screamed the diner chef as he DISAPPEARED in the mob. Arterial blood fountained up from the huddled of flashing teeth. The few townsfolk instinctively fell back toward the town square center. The Agents whirled in horror as another swarm of the undead suddenly appeared in the shadows behind the Sheriff’s office.
Ross and Andy opened fire, backing away slowly. Denis grabbed Putechin, hauled him out of the van just as some of the undead seized the opposite door of the vehicle and wrenched it open.
From above, one could see the square of zombies close. The townsfolk and the Agents were surrounded, slowly being pushed back –
“The church!” Ross yelled. “It’s defensible!”
Everyone bolted for the Church. Denis hauled the hysterical Russian scientist with him, Deputy Shea manhandled Glick while firing over his shoulder. Jo and Ross ran to the side of the Church, to see how bad the zombie situation was on their flank. Stephen stayed at the church door, waving people in.
A garbled cry sounded over the constant moaning of the zombie hoard. Stephen saw the local Reverend, brandishing his cross, go down in a seething mass of undead flesh.
(DM’s NOTE: At which point Ross remarked: “Turning Undead doesn’t work in Dark*Matter. Check.”)
Andy had his own plan. He ran straight for the small gas station. He pulled the nozzles from the tanks. He jammed them all open at full throttle, then tossed them down in front of the nearby wave of zombies. He was about to ignite them when a SCREAM erupted from the gas station garage.
A shapely teenage girl in mechanic’s clothing stumbled out from the workbay. Behind her an older man reached out desperately, hands flailing, as zombies pulled him back and CRACKED his skull open like a papaya. Andy swooped in, slung an arm around the young woman, and hauled her back toward the gas tanks, firing point-blank into the ravaging jaws of zombies no more than three feet away. She looked into his eyes, her own gaze bleary with shock. He grinned. “Hi there.”
Then with one smooth move he flipped out his lighter, lit it, and tossed it into the river of gasoline.
The resulting FIREBALL incinerated two dozen zombies as they SLOSHED through the gas-soaked mud. They shrieked, their tongues charring, muscles melting. The orange glow lit the unholy scene like a triptych from hell: flesh-rending zombies closing in, panicked civilians scrambling for the church –
-- and revealing to Ross and Jo the SCHOOL BUS parked next to the church.
“Change of plan!” Ross pivoted, bringing his shotgun to his shoulder. He yelled between 12-guage BOOMS. “Everyone into the bus!” BOOM! “We!” BOOM! “Are!” BOOM! “Leaving!”
Denis hauled the Russian onto the bus, pushed him to the back. Dropping his foul cargo, Denis then drew his own gun and fired through the back-door window of the bus, fending off zombies clawing at the metal. “Remember! Head shots!”
“Not going to forget that!”” Stephen was shoving townspeople into the bus with one hand and shooting madly with the other. In just seconds, they’d be overwhelmed …
Ross and Jo shoved Stephen into the bus. Ross jammed his shotgun in a zombie’s mouth, blew the creature’s skull off, then stepped onto the stairs. Jo swung the lever closing the door. The bus engine ROARED to life, and Stephen pulled away, zombied crunching under the tires. The Hoffman Agents fired nonstop through the windows at the few undead clinging to the frame, reaching for the tasty morsels within.
Meanwhile, Andy still supported his semi-conscious young charge with one hand as he scooped up one of the gas nozzles with the other. He swung it around, wielding it like a FLAMETHROWER, fending off still-mobile yet flaming flesh-eaters inexorably moving in on him …
Until the school bus burst through the flames! It’s brakes squealed –
-- and the bus’s fender caught Andy on the hip.
Swearing profusely, Andy stumbled to his feet and carried the mechanic onto the bus. Jo closed the door again. Stephen threw the bus in gear, shrugged as Andy glared at him. “Sorry. Couldn’t really see through the flames.”
The bus TORE through the flames, zombies THUDDING off the sides and bottom. After a few tense seconds, the bus clawed free of the roaring flame pool and broke through the zombie line. People screamed and fell to the floor as the bus bounced over the rough ground, Stephen desperately trying to find purchase on the road. If the bus were to tip, there’d be no escape –
The transmission COUGHED as Stephen ground it into gear. The bus righted itself, and the smooth HUM of pavement sounded from beneath the wheels. The bus cleared the edge of the town square, sprinted along the access road. There was a tense moment of silence as everyone looked back.
“You see that?” Denis whispered.
“It looks like hell itself,” answered Ross.
“No,” said Denis. “That.”
Familiar green-and-white-lights suddenly pierced the new night sky. They swooped low over the burning town. Again, the Agents felt a low THROB. Again, something FLASHED. They could just make out some zombies JERKING, DANCING madly, then SHREDDING. In the blink of an eye, the Zombie Horde was TORN APART.
Then the UFO swung in low, lining up on the fleeing bus …
I think we already know the answer. 
