Back From The Dead

Chapter Seven

Scott Bradfield and David Bruce accompanied Gordon Smith into the woods to see if there was evidence that the rabbit had come back from the dead.

David giggled. He and Scott had gotten stoned before Gordon showed up at the Bradfield house and they were getting on his nerves. “A zombie bunny!” David said.

“Shut up!” Gordon said.

“I wonder if it’ll try to eat us?” Scott asked, half seriously.

David and Scott burst into laughter.

Gordon stopped and turned around. His friends had stopped in their tracks and were doubled over with laughter. The days were getting longer, and at a few minutes past eight pm there was still sufficient sunlight to see by. They had another ten yards to go. “I’m going to go check. If you assholes want to come, let’s go.” He turned and started heading toward the clearing, not caring if they followed.

Despite it not being fully dark yet, the woods had a sinister quality to them, more so than last night. As Gordon picked his way past poison ivy and fallen pine branches, he heard the crickets going at it again. They sounded normal to him now. What was I thinking last night? he thought as he reached the clearing.

He stood at the edge of the clearing, not too surprised at the sight but his heart sinking nonetheless.

The hole he’d dug and buried the rabbit in, that he’d filled up and tamped down, was undisturbed.

Gordon hoisted the small bladed shovel he’d brought along. This wasn’t going to be pretty, but he might as well get it over with. He took a step toward the area where he’d buried the rabbit, plunged the blade in the soil and started digging.

Scott and David showed up a moment later. Gordon didn’t notice the look on their faces, but he could tell from their tones of voice that they were disappointed. “Hey, there’s nothing here.”

“I know,” Gordon said. He was almost a foot down now.

“So it didn’t work?” Scott asked. Both of them sounded serious now.

“Not sure,” Gordon said, because he didn’t really know how to answer that one.

Because despite not seeing the tell-tale signs of the rabbit having clawed its way up out of the soil, something didn’t feel right.

Something felt…wrong.

Scott and David stood on either side of him as the shovel hit something more solid. Grunting with the exertion, Gordon carefully levered the shovel under the bulk and lifted it. As he lifted the mass of soil and dead flesh, David gasped. “Aww, man, that thing’s deader than shit!”

Gordon dumped the dead rabbit on the ground, not even feeling sick at the sight of the worms doing their number on the animal. Already there were maggots writhing about the body — how the hell did flies burrow underground to lay their eggs anyway? Underneath the earthy smell of wet soil was the scent of rotting flesh.

“Well shit, I was actually looking forward to this,” Scott said.

“Yeah, me too.” David.

“Dammit,” Gordon said.

“So why do you think it didn’t work?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know,” Gordon replied. “I did everything right. Followed everything in the book to the letter.”

“Maybe it’s because animals don’t have souls,” David surmised. “I mean…the demon can’t take their soul and use their body as a vessel. Know what I mean?”

Gordon nodded. It made perfect sense. But still…

There was that feeling. Something was there. In the woods.

Do they feel anything? Gordon thought. Or am I just imagining things?

“Well, might as well bury it and get going,” David suggested. “We can try again.”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, anything to agree with them and get the hell out of here. He shoved the animal back into the hole and started piling the dirt back over it. When the hole was filled up completely, he stomped the soil down.

“What kind of animal are we going to try it with next time?” David asked Gordon.

“You mean we’re going to try this again?” Scott asked. He looked doubtful. “The shit obviously didn’t work.”

“I don’t think we’re going to try it again,” Gordon said. He started heading out of the clearing. He didn’t tell them that he agreed with what they were saying, that they were right. That might be the impression they got out of his response but it wasn’t his intention.

Something did work.

He could feel it.

Scott and David followed along behind him. They talked and Gordon answered, but he wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying. “We can still bury him out here when he’s dead,” Scott said. “Nobody’ll find him.”

“Yeah,” David answered. “Too bad we’re not going to know if he’ll come back from the dead.” To Gordon: “Hey, Gordon, whaddaya think? Think this’ll still work?”

“I don’t know,” Gordon said, his heart racing. He felt his skin bristle; gooseflesh.

He didn’t want to give them his honest opinion.

That he felt whatever it was he’d done out there last night had worked.