#1

"CEMETERY WITHOUT CROSSES"
by Dallas Lee

“Do you ever feel like the man in the moon is watching you?”

Buck, his shovel slung over his shoulder like a soldier with a rifle, looked at Lilly through the darkness. The full moon cast blue shadows across his haggard face.

“I knew we should’ve left you at the truck,” he said.

“It’s cool,” said Roy. He swiped off his hat, which read NO BULLSHIT, and ran a hand through his mop of shoulder-length greasy hair. “How much farther do we have to go?”

Buck pulled the map out from his back pocket. Through the moonlight, he glanced at it. “It shouldn’t be much further up this trail.”

“Good,” said Lilly. “I’m getting tired of tromping through this swamp.”

Buck kept his thoughts to himself. He put the map back and turned around. “Let’s get going.”

They walked for another ten minutes. Each of them swatted away mosquitoes which feasted on their sweat-and-blood.

“Here it is,” said Buck. “X marks the spot.”

“How do you know this is it?” asked Roy. “It looks like any other Godforsaken place in this swamp.”

“There’s the tree and rock Voorhees said we’d see,” said Buck. He pointed to the gnarled tree rising into the sky. At its base, a large pock-marked rock stood sentry. “And it’s only a few feet away from that lake.”

“Where are we supposed to dig?”

“Right next to that big rock,” said Buck. He hoisted the shovel from his shoulder. “Let’s get to work.”

“Please do,” said Lilly. “This place gives me the creeps.”

Buck and Roy began to dig.

As they worked at turning over the murky ground, Lilly looked at them both in the simmering moonlight.

If it weren’t for the money that Roy had collected from the death of his parents (they had been run over by a cement truck while crossing the road), she’d never be with him. As it was, he bought her nice gifts and, to the point, paid her to be his girlfriend.

But she didn’t know how much more she could take of him. Every time she looked at him, all she could imagine was him sucking out the multi-colored milk from his cereal bowl chock full of Fruity Pebbles and the way that he picked at the blackheads that infested the right corner of his lips.

Buck, on the other hand, was a man’s man. He’d spent his time in prison for killing Rooster Coogan lifting weights. Now, as he dug at the ground, his sweaty muscles rippled. And she really liked the tattoos that he sported. I DIED IN PRISON was scrawled across his back.

He made her wet.

“Keep going,” Buck told Roy. “We’re almost there.”

“Dammit, I hope so. This is breaking my back.”

And that’s when their shovels slammed down on top of the casket.

“Give me the crowbar,” Buck told Lilly. “I want to get this sucker out of the ground and back to Voorhees as soon as possible.” He wiped the back of his arm across his sweaty brow. “I want that cash in my pocket before he changes his mind.”

But Buck wasn’t going to have to use the crowbar. Not now, nor ever.

Rotted claws pushed their way up through the boards of the casket. And as the lid was pushed aside, a corpse sat up. It looked at Buck and Roy with its one good eye, peering at them intently,

“Why have you done this?” it asked through decayed lips. Its jaw, the bone naked of flesh, worked back-and-forth. “Why have you disturbed me?”

Roy screamed. He shit his pants.

“Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick!” screamed Buck. And he turned, grabbing Lilly by the elbow. He ran with her back up the trail.

Roy slipped in the mud. He fell down into the grave alongside the animated corpse.

“What are you looking at fat boy?” the corpse of Alec Holland asked.

“How much time is she going to spend at that grave?” Johnny asked Barbara. He glanced at his watch. “She’s already spent a half-hour there.”

“Give her time to grieve,” said Barbara.

Johnny stepped out of the car. He was tired of waiting.

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Barbara.

“I’m going to get her,” he replied. “It’s getting dark and we have a long drive back.”

Barbara followed Johnny out of the car.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s go get her.” She idled her way up beside him. “You’re such a selfish bastard.”

They began to wind their way through the cemetery. In the distance, a caretaker was shoveling the last bit of dirt into an open grave.

“Look at him,” said Johnny. He gripped Barbara’s elbow. “He’s coming to get you, Barbara.”

“Oh, quit being so childish,” she replied.

“He’s coming to get you, Barbara,” he said, laughing. He thought his homage to NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD was humorous.

After a short walk, they came upon Abby Arcane kneeling down in front of a grave. The inscription on the tombstone read: Elizabeth Acres 1972-2008.

“Are you ready?” asked Johnny.

Abby turned around to face them. She wiped away strands of her white hair that flowed across her face. A trickle of tears coursed their way down her cheeks.

“I guess,” she said. “I’ve kept the both of you long enough.”

“Stay as long as you like,” said Barbara. “Johnny is just being selfish.”

“No,” said Abby. “I’m ready.”

She struggled her way back onto her feet. She glanced down at Elizabeth’s grave one final time. She had been Abby’s best friend. They had both worked at the abuse shelter together for the past five years. And then cancer had claimed her friend’s life. Life was such a bitch.

The three of them walked back to the car. Overhead, a storm was brewing. Thunder rumbled in the distance. A bolt of lightning streaked overhead. The smell of burning ozone curled in the tepid air. And, as they climbed into the car, rain began to fall.

Johnny started the car. As he reversed, he hooked his arm over the headrest. He stared at Abby, smiling.

“You’re beautiful,” he said to her.

“Thank you,” said Abby. She was taken aback by his remark.

As Johnny turned back in his seat, he glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

“So,” he said to Barbara. “You think I ought to ask her?”

“Now might not be such a good time.”

“Ask me what?” said Abby. “What are the two of you keeping secret?”

Johnny smiled. He continued to glance at Abby in the mirror. “What say we stop off a hotel on the way back to town?” he said. “We could, you know, get together.”

“Get together?” asked Abby. “What do you mean?”

Barbara nudged Johnny in the ribs.

“Maybe we could have a threesome,” said Johnny.

For a brief second, Abby felt her breath close in her throat. Her tongue felt like a slippery caterpillar in her mouth.

“You don’t have to answer now,” said Barbara. “It’s only a thought.”

“No,” said Abby. Her mind was reeling with the prospect of the proposition. She’d known both Johnny and Barbara for the last few years. Barbara worked at the shelter, too. And she couldn’t deny that she had a sudden passion sweep through her body. The words that ushered from her mouth surprised everyone in the car: “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

Johnny drove on with a grin cracking open his face.

The nearest hotel loomed before them on the stormy horizon.

Blaze slapped Tefe across the mouth. She reeled back across the room, crashing over a kitchen chair. As she crumpled onto the floor, snot dripping from her nose, she began to cry.

“You worthless bitch,” said Blaze. “I ought to kill you.”

“Then why don’t you?” screamed Tefe. “You’re such a big man.”

She put her hand up to her mouth. She felt her lips as they began to puff. She tasted her own salty blood as it seeped from the wound.

Tefe had made the mistake of saying that Blaze’s band sucked. She had been to their last concert and hadn’t been impressed. Blaze had thought it was his best performance yet.

Now he was making another scene by beating her senseless.

“You aren’t worth the time,” he said.

He watched Tefe crawl onto her hands and knees. And then he kicked her in the stomach. She sprawled back onto the kitchen floor, screaming.

“Shut that shit up,” said Blaze. “I’m tired of hearing your whining.”

He reached out and pushed everything off the kitchen table. Tefe winced as the vase of fresh flowers she’s put there this morning crashed down onto her head.

“Please stop,” she murmured. “Please.” And then she forced the words out: “I love you.”

“What the fuck do you know about love?” Blaze stomped around the kitchen slamming open and closed cabinets. “You aren’t even good at pleasing me in the bed. You’re a worthless piece of ass.”

Tefe lay on the floor, crying. “Speaking of good ass,” said Blaze. “I think I’m going to visit Charlotte Raven tonight. Now that’s one good lay!”

Tefe was glad to hear him leave. Her heart, feeling heavy, lifted as she heard the front door open.

“Don’t wait up for me,” said Blaze. And then he was gone.

For a moment, Tefe had thought about using her powers. But, deep in her heart, she did love Blaze. She didn’t want to hurt him. Besides, if it came down to it, she’d have her daddy do the dirty work.

Roy screamed as the vines tethered him to the tree. One branch, snaking into his mouth, shut him up.

Alec Holland’s corpse stared at him. He knew that the tree coming alive only meant one thing:

Swamp Thing

“This is just great,” said Alec. “First my sleep is disturbed, and now I have to put up with this botanical bullshit.”

“Foul language doesn’t become you,” said Swamp Thing.

“Sorry,” said Alec. “I just fuck up sometimes.”

The Swamp Thing had emerged from the bog seconds after Buck and Lilly had made their escape. He had found Roy lying on the ground, screaming and kicking like a little baby. It was one thing he couldn’t tolerate. Simply, it got on his nerves.

“Why would they be so interested in you?” asked the Swamp Thing.

“Hell if I know.”

“There must be something inside you that they seek.” The Swamp Thing sighed. “Isn’t that how it always is? I’m afraid that you and I are linked forever, my friend.”

The corpse teetered around the mouth of his grave. Alec’s legs, bone peeking through his torn suit clothes, were very weak. He tumbled onto the ground. Overhead, he watched the dark clouds as they masked the full moon.

The Swamp Thing turned to Roy. He removed the branch from his mouth. Roy puked down the front of his shirt.

“What are you doing here?” asked the Swamp Thing.

“I don’t know,” said Roy. His words were thick. “All I know is that we were getting paid to dig up that corpse.” He stole a quick glance at Alex and puked, again.

“Who sent you?”

“It was some old guy.”

“What was his name?”

“Pilate Voorhees,” said Roy. He started to cry. “Please, let me go.”

The Swamp Thing turned to Alec. “Stand up.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

The Swamp Thing reached out. Beneath Alec’s corpse, the ground slowly rumbled. And then it peeled away from the earth. As it unfurled like a carpet, Alex’s body rose with it. He lay there, gazing at the Swamp Thing.

“That was a good parlor trick,” he said.

“You and I need to talk.”

He then turned to Roy, still tied to the tree. He no longer had any use for him.

“Go,” said the Swamp Thing. “And tell your employer anything he wants to know. We’ll be here waiting for him whenever he’d like to speak with us.”

Roy stumbled to his knees as the branches unwound from him. Then he scrambled to his feet, running away down the trail.

Behind him, the Swamp Thing watched the bog swallow him.