Griffin knew watching an inmate being put to death wouldn’t be fun, but he never expected Callahan to return as something less than human. Now Griffin, along with a handful of officers and inmates, are trapped within the walls of a prison as a legion of the walking dead stalk them for food.
The choice is simple – fight back or die.
Zombies in prison!
Griffin knew watching an inmate being put to death wouldn’t be fun, but he never expected Callahan to return as something less than human. Now Griffin, along with a handful of officers and inmates, are trapped within the walls of a prison as a legion of the walking dead stalk them for food.
The choice is simple – fight back or die.
Excerpt
“Make a hole and stand clear! Dead man walking!”
I looked over at my partner as the few inmates in the corridor hugged the walls. “Christ, Perkins. Do you have to do that?”
Perkins just smirked at me and rolled his eyes. I shook my head. We were on lockdown for the execution so it’s not like there was a lot of traffic in the hallway.
“It’s alright, Boss,” said the tall man in prison whites walking between us, “It’s just the way little ol’ ‘Perky’ gets wood these days. It don’t mean nothing to me.”
Perkins gave the inmate a shove, “Shut your yap, Callahan. Dead men don’t talk.”
Crap, I thought, my first execution and I get saddled with this asshole.
We stopped at the gate, waiting to be buzzed in. Nothing happened so I keyed my radio, “Two escorts, one in tow. Pop the gate.”
The staticy reply came back, “Callahan’s special priority. Gotta strip him before I can let you in.”
Perkins groaned, “Another stupid crotch shot? I hate this stupid wiener-patrol shit.”
I did my best to ignore him but couldn’t hold back the sigh. “Okay, Callahan. You heard. Step out of ‘em.”
I removed his cuffs and both Perkins and I stepped back, hands on our pepper spray, as Callahan started to strip. He was big, and we weren’t taking any unnecessary chances. A lot of people joked about how Callahan looked like Bull from the old television series, “Night Court,” but this was no gentle giant. Callahan had killed thirteen people, and inmates were known to pull a surprise every now and then when they were taking their last walk. Personally, I don’t like surprises.
“What the hell?” Perkins yelled. “You got new ink?”
Callahan just smiled at him, “Whatcha going to do about it, Perky? Write me up?”
I looked at Perkins’ latest source of irritation; an upside-down skull in a circle of thorny vines was emblazoned over Callahan’s heart.
“Hey, Boss.” Callahan looked me right in the eye. “You ain’t looking so good. Maybe you should call it an early night.”
I returned his stare, feeling a cold lump start to form in my stomach. That kind of advice was usually a bad sign. “What do you mean by that, Callahan?”
He shrugged as he started to put his clothes back on, “Nothing. I’m just saying you ain’t looking so good and that a night home might be good for you,” he glanced at Perkins and then back at me, “And you’ve always been straight with us guys. You do your job and don’t look for trouble.”
Perkins snorted as he slapped the handcuffs back on Callahan’s wrists, “Yeah, ol’ Griffin don’t ever look for trouble. He just floats through his shift.”
I bit my tongue on a response, knowing it was a waste of time to explain that not everybody got off on the supposed power of the CO uniform. I keyed my mike again, “Callahan’s clean. Pop the gate.” The gate popped open with a buzz and a metallic clang, and we entered the narrow hallway that had signified the end of the road for many felons.
The three of us walked down the hall and entered the room at the end. I glanced around at the cold, sterile-looking chamber, my eyes finally resting on the table in the center. I braced myself, waiting to feel Callahan tense, waiting for him to break down or freak out. He just stood there between us, the picture of calm.
We led him to the table, removed his cuffs, and watched as he lay down. He just stared at the ceiling as we strapped him down with the heavy-duty Velcro ties, never moving or saying a word.
“You okay, Callahan?” I know, stupid question, but his calm was kind of freaking me out.
He grinned, still staring at the ceiling. “See? That’s what I mean, Boss. You’re a straight shooter. Don’t take no shit, don’t give no shit.” He glanced at me quickly and then returned his eyes to the ceiling. “You really should leave.”
“Little too late for that… even if I wanted to.”
The doctor came into the room and I stepped back to stand against the wall with Perkins.
“What the hell is all that about?” Perkins asked. “The two of you dating or something?”
I ignored him and watched the doctor insert the needle. I looked over at the window and saw a few faces looking back from the Observation Room, mostly prison officials and reporters. Callahan had a knack for choosing victims that wouldn’t be missed.
The doctor moved to the control panel and nodded to the warden through the glass. The warden glanced at his watch and nodded his head. The switches were flipped and the drugs started pumping. Callahan continued to stare at the ceiling, but now he appeared to be saying something under his breath, maybe a final prayer to see him on his way.
I stole a quick glance at Perkins and noticed he was completely fixated on the scene in front of him. The bastard actually seemed to be enjoying it. I looked back at Callahan for a second and then dropped my eyes to the floor.
This might be my job, but it’s not where I want to be and I sure as hell don’t have to watch this shit.
I didn’t have to watch, but I could still hear him. I guess it really didn’t sound that bad. Callahan’s breathing slowed, like he was going to sleep, and then… nothing. It was over.
The lights went out with a loud pop and a shower of sparks. The room was plummeted into complete and total darkness. I heard the unmistakable sound of pepper spray being pulled from a holster and decided it was a good idea to follow Perkins’ example.
I whispered, “Perkins, what’s going on?”
“Fuck if I know. Where the hell are the fucking emergency lights and what the fuck is that noise?”
‘That noise’ was a strange sound coming from the center of the room, a wet sound. A sound that didn’t belong here.
There was a brief flicker, then another, and then the generator finally kicked in and the back-up lights came on. I will never, ever forget the sight that greeted me.
Callahan was standing up, the Velcro restraints in tatters on the floor. He had the doctor in a bear hug, tearing chunks of flesh from his neck with his teeth. Blood was spraying everywhere. Callahan looked at us and threw the doctor against the spectator’s window. The doc slid down the glass, leaving a bloody smear. Callahan grinned. “Dead… man… walking.”
I have to give Perkins credit. He might be a dick, but he took action while I just stood there holding the wall up. He charged Callahan and let him have a face full of pepper spray. The blood-covered inmate took the full dose and grabbed Perkins’ wrist, pulling the CO towards him.
That was enough to break my paralysis. I pulled my cuffs, slipped them over my hand, and ran forward, busting Callahan across the face with my makeshift brass knuckles just as he bit a chunk of flesh out of Perkins’ wrist. Callahan staggered back and I pulled Perkins towards me, shoving him towards the narrow hall.
“Go! Move your ass, now!” A hand fell on my shoulder and I looked back into the face of a nightmare. Callahan’s eyes were solid black orbs and his lips were curled into a snarl, revealing jagged bits of flesh in his blood-stained teeth.
I tore myself away and hauled ass after Perkins, keying the radio as I went. “Control, pop the gate. Now!”
“Griffin, what the hell’s going on down there? The whole unit is on emergency power and the security cams are dead.”
Perkins snatched the radio from me. “That’s not all that’s dead, you stupid bitch. Open the damn gate.”
I glanced over my shoulder, and wished I hadn’t. Callahan was walking slowly towards us, as if he had all the time in the world to kill us, and he did if the idiot in the control picket didn’t hurry up and press the stupid button.
The gate buzzed and we rushed out into the main corridor. Perkins and I both scrambled to close the heavy iron gate, and I heard the latch catch just as Callahan reached the bars. We jumped back as he reached for us, bloody fingers clawing the air.
A few officers came running up behind us, pepper spray and sandbag guns at the ready. Sergeant Conway was in the lead. “Step back, Callahan, or you’ll wish that injection did the trick.”
Callahan just stood there, and then pulled his arms back through the bars. He stared at us, turned around, and walked back down the hall.
Conway glared at me and Perkins. “What the hell is going on? Why ain’t he dead, and what the hell happened to you, Perkins?” He toned his attitude down when he saw the blood dripping from Perkins’ wrist.
“Bastard bit me, Sarge. Probably going to get AIDS or some other shit from the bastard.”
A loud clang echoed up and down the hall as Callahan charged into the gate. We all jumped, and for just a minute, I wondered if the gate had held. Callahan just stood there, growling at us.
Conway grabbed a beanbag rifle from someone and aimed it at Callahan’s face. “That’s it, numb-nuts. Nap time.” The gun made a little coughing sound and a beanbag hit Callahan right between the eyes at about 30 miles an hour.
That should have knocked him out cold, but he didn’t even stagger. Aside from having a bloodied nose, it didn’t even look like the bag had made contact.
“Really?” Conway growled. “Okay, second helping coming right up.” He stepped closer to the door, raising the rifle to his shoulder.
“Sarge, I don’t feel so –“ Perkins fell to his knees and threw up.
Conway looked at him, then me. “Get him to Medical, Griffin, and then get your ass back here.”
“Yes, sir.” I helped Perkins up and we headed to the infirmary as Conway fired another beanbag.
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
WEIRD RHODY is a short story collection featuring five strange tales all set in Rhode Island and written by five Rhode Island authors. The anthology is a tribute to H.P. Lovecraft, the Ocean State's famed author of pulp horror.
