A STORY by JOSH DALE
DEVOID OF ALL LIFE
Two stoners in a beat-up sedan park in a cemetery. It is dusk and lightning crackles a peculiar shade of blue. Tombstones glisten as if they are interactable within a video game. The horizon is gray from an impending deluge. It is a ritual that nature repeats in the summer months.
The two stoners roll up a blunt. They put on a doom-metal mixtape. They proceed to hotbox the sedan. Electric Wizard accompanies their high. So do a few minutes of hail. The stoners yelp at the thudding and gawk at the hailstones. Then the rain begins.
One of the stoners makes a hypothesis. Many thunderstorms have flooded the graves at some point. The dead have, in theory, had their bones afloat at least once. The down-to-earth stoner is headbanging slowly and claims what was said to be mumbo jumbo.
The blunt is burnt through and the stoner with the hypothesis gets out of the car. A plume of smoke is immediately dissipated by the ensuing rain. The lightning and thunder arrive in tandem. He waddles through the rain to a giant cross of a tombstone.
The philosophical stoner lies with one ear against the ancient earth. He is getting wet but swears that he hears the twang of a Civil War veteran. Shouts at angry earthworms for blocking their hole. Tinnitus and fantasy are unbound. Barks of electric danger force his retreat.
Back inside the sedan, the stoner with the bright idea wrings his hair out onto the floor. The dry stoner giggles at how silly his friend was just now. There is now a death metal mixtape playing. Undeath’s brutal riffs and blast beats make the old speakers crackle. The wet stoner elaborates on his findings to the dry stoner. The headbanging soon resumes.
Little does either stoner know that tonight is a special night. The pits of hell have been building a damned army.
Just then, lightning obliterates a tree. A gigantic, white bolt is sent through the wood, cleaving it in two. The tree was planted over 150 years ago in honor of the dead general. Except this lightning bolt is sent right to the coffin.
The rain ceases very suddenly. The stoners in the car see stars as the event unfolds. What they think is just a typical thunderstorm, is far from it. What they just witnessed is a haunted resurrection.
The soil spews like a geyser. A large bone juts from the surface. The stoners gawk in awe as the general skeleton exhumes itself. The skeleton rises from the grave, not as a human, but as a conglomeration of many bones of fellow skeletons. The stoners say in unison, whoa dude.
The skeleton is arisen at 20 feet tall. It stretches plasmatic joints. Blackened orifices and tapered digits stretch and hum. With each step, a minor quake. The skeleton rips its tombstone cross from the earth. Now a sword, it thrashes and destroys other graves as it plods through the cemetery to places unknown.
The driver stoner attempts to start the car, yet the passenger stoner wishes to observe the gravesite. An expedited plea of haste is issued, as the passenger stoner rushes over. He uses his cell phone to glimmer light into the hole. But he soon discovers this was a terrible mistake.
A half-dozen, human-sized skeletons claw and shred the soil. They climb faster than any normal human could. The endangered stoner falls to the ground and scurries away. But there is no escape. The skeletal platoon, enraged by the resurrection, pounce on him. They shred his soft tissue asunder as they feast.
The safe stoner tries to fire up the car again, but it does not start. Waterlogged and hail-stricken, the chassis is still and unbudging. That’s when the bloody skeleton platoon regroups. Now a twenty-some force, they rush the car, pushing it with undead might.
The entrapped stoner screams in horror as his car flips and plummets down a hill. It collides with stone and bursts into flames from the impact. There is no more cannabis to smoke or music to headbang to. Just the unbelievable horrors of the undead army seeking revenge upon the living.
Josh Dale (he/him) is a native Pennsylvanian and the author of the novella, “The Light to Never Be Snuffed” (Alien Buddha Press, 2022) and the forthcoming, metal-themed chapbook, “Behold, Infinite Fire” from Frequent & Vigorous Chapbooks. Introduce indie lit to your cat/dog. Say hi at joshdale.co or on social media @jdalewrites.