Dead Souls - Episode One

Rain battered the windshield as Lowell clenched the steering wheel and fought to see the road through the condensation on the glass. He reached a hand up to wipe at the moisture with the sleeve of his denim jacket but his breath only seemed to make the situation worse. He couldn't see shit. He cursed and cranked up the air conditioning even though it had broken long ago.

It was bad enough trying to see in this rain, but the roads out here in rural Ohio were dark as hell, too. Lightning shattered the sky momentarily and illuminated the countryside in a white blaze. In the distance, he could see the treetops along the horizon and the black shape of a darkened farmhouse in the distance. Maybe the power was out in this area. That wouldn't be a surprise. This was a hell of a storm. Every time the powerful wind gusted it nearly blew the old Mercury Cougar off the road. He took his foot of the gas and reduced his speed. He thought about pulling over and waiting the storm out on the side of the road, but then he thought better of it and kept driving.

An approaching set of headlights appeared over a hill in the distance. The sight of them made him realize it had been awhile since he'd seen another vehicle on the roads at all. Twenty or thirty minutes, at least. No one else was crazy or desperate enough to be out on a night like this.

As the car approached, the bright lights reflected off the puddles on the street and the fog and blinded him. He squinted his eyes and searched for the faded painted lines on the road. The glare left him temporarily blinded once the car had passed and the darkness returned. He blinked and his eyes opened in time to see the grill of his car buckle the frame of a dark figure in the road.

"Shit!" Lowell cursed.

He slammed on the brakes and the car fishtailed over the wet surface and skidded to a stop in the gravel alongside the road. The wipers rumbled as they swept the rain off the windshield and Lowell stared at the stalks of corn bathed in the glow of the headlights. The big engine rumbled beneath the patter of the rain and the sound of Yes playing "Owner of a Lonely Heart" on the radio.

He debated driving on. Just hit the goddamn gas and go and pretend like it never happened. It wouldn't be the worst thing he has ever done. Hell, it might not even be the worst thing he did today. It wasn't fear that he killed someone that made him decide to shift the car in park. It was the fear that they might still be alive. That was the last thing he needed right now. A witness.

Lowell felt around beneath the seat and located the crowbar. His fingers curled around the steel handle as he popped open the door. The sound of the pouring rain smacking on the pavement greeted him like a shower of applause. He glanced up and down the road to make sure no other vehicles were coming before he turned back to focus on the motionless body in the red glow of the taillights. The denim jacket already felt damp and heavy from the pouring rain. The body remained still. Even though he just wanted to get back inside the dry car and get the hell out of there, he had to be sure.

Lowell combed back the stringy curtains of wet hair before he started walking toward the back of the car. No one in their right mind would be out wandering in the middle of the road in this storm. The person must have seen him coming. The long straight road meant there was plenty of time to move out of the way. Unless he didn't want to.

His thoughts were interrupted when the arm of the man jerked to life. It flopped down again and clawed at the pavement. Lowell froze and tightened his grip on the crowbar as the man got to his knees. The man was grey-haired, unshaven, and covered in blood. The guy was in his pajamas, too. Maybe it was just the glow of the headlights, but streamlets of red water flowed across the cement.

"What the hell?" Lowell gasped. He took a step forward and leaned in closer. "You okay, man?"

The guy didn't answer but he looked up. His shattered jawbone dangled from one side of face. Teeth and bone fragments dribbled onto the asphalt. No wonder he wasn't saying anything. The man tried to get to his feet, but his legs buckled beneath him. He crawled forward instead, reaching out a hand toward Lowell as he backed away.

"Just take it easy," Lowell urged the man. He already had the crowbar raised before he was aware he was lifting it.

The man lunged forward suddenly and Lowell swung the crowbar sidearm. The blunt hook struck the side of the mangled face and snapped his entire head sideways. The man slumped to the ground again. Lowell let out a breath and quickly scanned up and down the road again. Everything was dark and shifting in the wind. It was just a matter of time before another car came along. He had to get moving.

Lowell tried to wipe the moisture off his face with the damp sleeve of his denim jacket. When he lowered his arm he realized the guy was pushing his body up off the ground again. His right eye socket was caved in from the crowbar, but the left eye found Lowell and the man plunged toward him again.

"What the fuck?" cried Lowell as the man crashed into his legs. The weight of the guy nearly knocked Lowell to the ground but he kept his footing and retreated a few steps as the man sprawled on the ground. Lowell raised the crowbar again and brought it down on the back of the man's skull. There was a sharp crack as the heavy steel fractured the bone. Lowell cursed again and lifted the crowbar again. He was pretty sure the guy was dead now, but felt like hitting the fucking bastard once more for being such a pain in the ass to kill. He felt the splatter of warm fluid on his face after the impact.

The crowbar fell from his fingers and clanged against the street as he stared at the mangled body of the man. He huffed out a few labored breaths and scanned the road in each direction again. His shaky hand reached inside his jean jacket and removed a wet pack of cigarettes because he couldn't think of what else he should be do. He flicked at the flint of the cheap lighter several times but the damp thing just threw a couple sparks and refused to light. Son of a bitch. The lighter was just another sign the whole world was working against him tonight.

"Pull yourself together," Lowell said to himself as he tossed the unlit smoke aside in anger. He bent down to grab the body and haul it toward the ditch on the side of the road, but when he thought he heard another noise through the sound of the rain, he paused.

Thump.

At first, he thought he imagined it, so he resumed grabbing up the wrists of the dead man. When he heard the sound again, he froze.

Thump.

He jerked his head around and watched the Cougar. The rear end of the car bobbed up and down slightly. Lowell stared at the vehicle in the falling rain with his mouth open.

Thump.

Lowell let the arms of the man slip out of his fingers and splash in a puddle of bloody water collecting on the ground. He grabbed the crowbar wiped the rain from his face again and walked toward the trunk of the idling car.

Thump.

The sound made him pause a few feet away with his eyes on the latch of the trunk. There was no doubting the sound was coming from inside. His mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Still, it wasn't possible because he knew for damn sure that the only thing that could be making that noise was Sherry. And that wasn't possible because Sherry was fucking stone cold dead when he stuffed her body in the car a couple hours ago. No goddamn way she was alive.

Thump.

Lowell took a step away from the trunk. He wasn't getting paid enough for this shit. He should have told Fat Lou to get his own fat ass in the car and drive out here to the middle of fucking nowhere to hide the body of his now ex-girlfriend. At least, Lou could have made sure the bitch was actually dead. Christ. He was going to have to fucking deal with her himself now.

Thump.

Lowell cursed and muttered to himself as he splashed around to the front of the car, killed the engine, and took out the key. He moved back to the trunk and inserted the key. As soon as he popped the lock, the trunk sprang open and Sherry emerged. Her eyes were milky white and Lowell could see the purple bruise from the telephone cord on her neck.

"Shit," Lowell said as he stepped back and raised the crowbar.

Sherry toppled onto the ground and landed on her face, grinding her flesh on the rough surface of the road. She wasn't alive. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. But Lowell just stared at her. His tired mind trying to wrap itself around what was going on.

"Sherry?" He called her name to see if she could respond to him. She lifted her head and let out a raspy utterance that almost sounded like she was trying to say "Hi."

Maybe she was still alive. Lowell reached out a hand as she struggled to her feet. Sherry lunged for him and snapped her teeth.

"Stay the fuck back, Sherry," Lowell growled. He raised the crowbar to warn her that he meant it.

The crazy bitch just kept coming at him. What the hell. Lowell tried to get a good look at her again, but her long wet hair hung down in front of her face. She reached for him again as she stepped through a puddle in her bare feet. Even if he still had no idea what was going on, he wasn't about to let her get any closer.

Lowell swung the crowbar. The metal crunched against the side of her skull. Sherry fell to her knees on the road and let out a pathetic groan. Lowell felt his stomach knotting up as he stared down at the woman. Angry blood surged through his veins. It wasn't Sherry he was pissed at, he actually felt pity for her. She wobbled on her knees in a daze.

"Sorry Sherry," Lowell said. He raised the crowbar again and slammed it down on the top of her skull. She collapsed to the ground in heap. Lowell glanced up and down the road again to make sure it was still clear. Then he felt something grabbing at his ankle. He jumped back and noticed that Sherry was still moving, reaching for him even.

"Jesus," he gasped. He smacked her with the crowbar again. Then he lifted it and brought it down again and again. He took out all of his pent up anger and frustration on her. "Just fucking die already."

By the time he wore himself out, her head was just a pile bone fragments and soggy meat. Lowell flung the crowbar away from him in disgust. What a mess.

He tried not to look at the bodies as he dragged them off to the ditch alongside the road. The horror of the last thirty minutes was starting to sink in and Lowell began to panic. He'd put a few scumbags in the hospital, but he had never killed anyone before. He worked furiously to hide the bodies, ripping out stalks of corn to cover them in the field. When he paused to examine his work, he realized how futile it was. He just needed to get the hell out of there.

Lowell went back to the Cougar and got behind the wheel. He shivered from the cold as he searched in his jean pockets for the keys. He pulled them out and jabbed the car key in the ignition. When he cranked the key, the engine sputtered and fell silent again. He tried it again, but the Cougar was dead.

"No, no, no," Lowell growled as he slammed a fist on the steering wheel. He was really fucked now. He looked up and down the road as another flash of lightening streaked across the sky. Then he noticed a dim light in the window of a farmhouse in the distance. He stared at it for several minutes as the rain pounded the roof of the car. When the light went out, he opened the door and stepped out into the rain. He left the Cougar in the middle of the road and began to walk through the tall rows of corn toward the darkened farmhouse.