Read L'il Gal Al and the Zombies of Amarillo Page 2
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It was past midnight and probably closer to three in the morning when Alma was jerked out of a deep sleep. She was use to hearing all sorts of noises in the night. All the drinking and fuss was downtown by the taverns and brothel. Her instincts could easily tell her the difference between something like that and something to worry about.
This noise she heard, though, it was more than worrisome. A dying animal? No, something not natural. She got up and peered out of the second floor window of the Yellow Moon. No activity in the muddy street there. Even the revelry from downtown had quieted down.
Then she heard it again. Trembling and mournful, inhuman.
Alma saw someone else’s shutters close and lock. Other people were hearing what she did, but no one was coming out to investigate it. Cursing the cowardice of these people, she yanked on her clothes, holstered her gun, and clomped down the stairs. Pushing open the front door, she stopped and cocked her head to the side.
It was too quiet outside now. Alma walked along the street with her hand on her gun. It was not a big street. Joanna had told her during dinner that this section of town used to be the original downtown, but an entrepreneur by the name of Sanborn had been luring businesses away from the original site that her husband had set when he founded Amarillo.
Rounding a corner, she caught a movement and instinct took over. Her gun was out within a blink of an eye. Even though it was a dark night, she could see the shape of the animal. It looked to be only a stray cow that had run away. Alma snorted, lowering her gun, until that eerie moan came from the cow again.
She had grown up on a farm. This was not a noise that the animals made under any circumstance. The cow was stumbling slowly forward, weaving from side to side as it knocked over rain barrels and boxes.
Alma stood her ground, regarding it coolly and tried not to recoil when the stench hit her. The wretched thing was sick. She could see the faint light reflecting on its huge eyes, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Froth covered the cow’s mouth. Its teats and anus wept unhealthy fluids.
“Step away from the animal, Miss Alma. We need to get out of here.”
She whipped her head around to see Mabrey standing there half-dressed as if he had just crawled out of bed himself. Alma gave a little sniff. “It’s just a sick cow, Sheriff. Best to get a shotgun and put it out of its misery.”
“No, please. Come back here away from it. It’s not sick.” Will repeated, fear making his face taut. “We’ve seen the dead walk before.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Alma groaned. “If you aren’t gonna do it, then I am gonna save the wretched thin’ any more sufferin’.” She held up her gun, but before she even managed to squeeze the trigger, the cow exploded.
Alma crouched down in a little protective ball. Blood, bone, and gore flew everywhere, covering the walls on either side with meaty crimson. The cow’s head missed her by inches and rolled to lay upside down with a tiny piece of spine pointing at her from its gaping neck. Its legs had remained where the animal had last been standing, flattened into the mud.
“Miss Alma! Are you all right?” Will ran forward, stumbling in the blood slicked mud.
She unfurled herself, slowly standing as pieces of intestine dripped off her. “I’m fine.” She grunted and tried to shake off some of the innards. Drenched in blood and already drawing flies. “What the hell just happened?”
“I tried to warn ya. The animal was dead. It’s happened once before a few weeks ago. A cow we knew to have died came in to town and suddenly exploded like this. Are ya sure you’re all right?” He attempted to help brush some of the guts off of her, but his hand was none too gently pushed away.
“You could have told me the cow was going to explode!”
“Well, I didn’t want to alarm ya too much.” Will said apologetically.
“And what was tellin’ me it was dead supposed to do?” Alma shook her head and glanced back at the spot where the cow had been standing. “Some mean little brats probably got hold of a stick of dynamite or somethin’, and stuck it inside the animal as some sort of joke.”
“Oh no, I don’t think—”
“Of course ya don’t. No one ’round here would think of doing such a thin’. Yeah, I’m sure. You’d be surprised what people are capable of, Sheriff.” Alma snapped and stomped back to the hotel.