Friday Flash - A Hero Comes Along

St Joseph's Cemetery isn't the nicest place to put someone to sleep. Still, the dead don't get much of a choice in the matter. We're expected to lie back and not make a fuss. For the most part we do, but every now and then, one of us has unfinished business, and can't rest.



I crawl out of my grave at sundown. The local kids congregate on the far side of the cemetery but I still smell the sour scent of cheap alcohol and the acrid tang of cigarettes. They think they're being so rebellious - they don't know that they're just repeating their parents' mistakes. For all I know, they're the kids who made fun of me when I was alive. Maybe one of them even knows who shot me during the convenience store hold up I tried to stop.



I shuffle through St Joseph's, the early evening mist clinging to my tattered cape. Its bright red fabric is closer to dark brown now, the cheerful yellow 'S' all but obscured. It was my brother's idea to bury me in my cape. My mother agreed, thinking it would be a fitting tribute, but Santo was trying to be ironic. No, the irony was that Santo's a cop with the 22nd precinct, and I was a gas station attendant. He only pretended to fight the crime that I actually went out to confront.



A scream cuts through the dusk. I shamble as fast as I can, heading towards the Palisade on the west side of the cemetery. The planners in the 1940s gave it a fancy name in the hope of making it seem a peaceful place to lay loved ones to rest. Now it's just an overgrown tangle of thorns and broken headstones.



Two men kneel beside a woman. She lashes out with arms and legs as they struggle to pin her down. She wears gym clothes and sneakers – my guess is she took a detour through the cemetery for a more scenic jogging route, and got jumped by the men. Angry scratches cover the face of the taller man, and I smell his blood under her fingernails. 1979 – a good vintage. The shorter man stands up and fumbles with his belt.



I lumber towards them. The woman catches sight of me and screams again. The sight of rotting flesh does that to people. The men turn around and see me. I haul my arms into my attack position and groan. It's not as impressive as the one-liners I cracked when I was alive but it'll do.



The taller man scrambles to his feet. He gibbers something incomprehensible and takes flight, thrashing his way through the bushes towards the path. The shorter man stands his ground, fumbling in his pocket for a flick knife. I knock it out of his hand and he stares at me, mouth falling open in surprise.



"You don't scare me, man! Just another junkie, yeah, that's all you are!"



I throw a punch, the dead weight of my fist connecting with his jaw. He drops to his knees, his fingers exploring the inside of his mouth for loose teeth. I look at the woman and motion for her to run. I'd tell her but my vocal chords rotted a week ago. She nods, mouths the words 'thank you', and springs to her feet. She plunges into the undergrowth and crashes away to freedom.



I notice a rock near the short man. My guess is he planned to use it on the runner when he'd finished satisfying himself. I pick it up and slam it into the back of his skull while he inspects the damage my punch caused. He tips forward, landing in the dried leaves with a thud. It's easy enough to force my fingers into the crack and wrench his skull apart.



Brains are an acquired taste but I've learned to tolerate them. I prefer other organs but in my job, the brain is a better option. I chew on the amygdala and visions dance before my eyes. I see what the short man saw throughout his day. I watch him steal a car, kick a stray dog, and visit a prostitute. I also watch him visit his friend, the tall man who now bears scratches on his cheek. Apartment 4b, Winnicker Street.



I scoop the last of the brains out of the skull, and roll the corpse into a pile of dead leaves. The local wildlife will finish the job and I will finish mine. I have somewhere else to visit tonight.



I clamber to my feet and I stumble along the Palisade. Evil walks the streets tonight, but I no longer fear it.



I am the Zombie Avenger.