Night Of The Zombie Chapter 1

Thank you for reading my stories. Below I have posted chapter 1 of a story I wrote back in 2015. Like the first 2 stories I posted, this one features Justin Macdonald and his friends, only this time he is at home in Port Salser Ontario (fictitious place). 

I liked the title and I hope the story lives up to the title. Please comment if you liked the chapter, or even if you hated it! I can take the criticism. 

Anyway, let's get to it, shall we...introducing...Night Of The Zombie:

Night Of The Zombie

Chapter 1

A cold wind swept up the darkened street, dry brown leaves hurrying past as if running from an unseen enemy. Trees swayed precariously in the wind. Rain started to fall, first a mist then a more torrential downpour. The hooded figure stood in the middle of the road, his cape flapping behind him…

The dude has a cape? I asked turning to my friend, movie director Zach Bristow. He was three years older than my 17 years and had recently moved to L.A. to start a career in making movies. He was originally from Port Salser and was back in town to direct his first full length film.

He was tall and slim, and had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. He sported a neatly trimmed beard as well. Behind a pair of dark-framed glasses, his hazel eyes danced with excitement as he turned to me.

Justin, buddy, he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. You gotta set the atmosphere. Capes are cool and—well, mysterious, he added getting a far off look in his eyes.

They’re cliché, I said with a roll of my eyes.

I’m going to ignore that last comment, he muttered. You’re not getting the vision, my friend. Movies are all about creating an illusion.

I am getting a vision and it’s of a corn field waving in the breeze, as in, this is a corny idea.

Zach pretended to look hurt, but I knew he really wasn’t. He didn’t let too much faze him. His last short movie that he co-wrote and directed back in L.A. was universally panned by the critics but it hadn’t bothered him. He just jumped right into his next project.

“Night Of The Zombie” was the tentative title of his new flick. He knew of my interest in moviemaking and asked me to help him with this one. I was going to be an extra and would get to be made up as a zombie. I was excited to be doing that, and I was helping out Zach. His parents lived just down the street from me in Port Salser, and I had always idolized Zach growing up and always thought he was cool, with his homemade movies and stories that he wrote.

He had decided to come back to Port Salser to give some of the locals a taste of filmmaking. He was doing the location shoot here then return to L.A. for the interior shots. He needed a lot of extras for his zombie scenes and wanted them to come from local people. My buddies Van Gilman and Raj Mistry were going to be extras as well as me.

Many people were excited about this movie, but some of the townspeople were less than enthusiastic. Really, I couldn’t see why. Zombies weren’t everybody’s thing but they were hot right now and this film would certainly bring publicity to the town. I guess some people are just sticks in the mud.

Zach and I were seated in his “pad”. His apartment over his parents garage. He had remodelled the guest quarters into his “home away from home”. It was a studio style apartment with a small kitchen in the back corner and a large double bed in the other corner. A small bathroom was next to the bed. The rest of the apartment was furnished with a large open area with a couch and a few chairs. A large screen TV—like over 100”—adorned the side wall. Cluttered around the space was video equipment, lighting standards and props.

I was seated in one of the chairs while Zach was sprawled out on his couch wearing cut-off jeans and a t-shirt, his bare feet up on the armrest, reading a script and handing me the pages when he was done.

Ok, so I’ll ditch the cape, he said, scribbling that part out.

You wanted my honest opinion, right? I said, taking the corrected page back from him.

Of course, Justin, he said without looking up.

Is something bothering you? I asked. He wasn’t normally bothered by criticism but it felt like he was annoyed at me for making the suggestion about the cape.

It’s nothing, he said, finally looking up.

Zach, you know Dad’s a private investigator. I’ve learned everything I know from him. I know how to read people. Something’s bothering you. Spill it.

He looked up at me and chuckled. He laid the pages down on the floor and sat up. Can’t keep anything from you, I can see, he said. Look. It may be nothing, but I got this weird note in my mail.

He got up and went to his massive desk and opened the drawer. I stood behind his chair as he opened up the folded piece of paper. It had an animated picture of a zombie spewing out blood. Oddly enough that wasn’t the scary part of the note. There was another picture. A tombstone. On it was written Zach’s name with his birth year and the current year etched on it. It was not an animated picture but looked like an actual tombstone.

Below was a message scrawled in red lettering.

“Go Back To Hollywood And Take Your Zombies With You.

Or you will die!”

Um—ok, I said. That’s just a little creepy, and Zach just nodded. I suppose you checked where it came from.

He turned to me. What do you think? Of course I checked. There was no name on the note. It was just in my mailbox downstairs.

I even went to the police with this last night, he went on. They’re looking into it, but they said it was just a harmless prank.

I’ll have a talk with them if you want, I said.

No! he blurted, getting up from his chair. I don’t want you getting involved. I know about your history with solving mysteries, but I can handle this. It’s not serious. Just some jokers out to rattle my cage.

Okay, I said putting my hands up in surrender.

Sorry, he said, scratching his whiskers and sighing. I didn’t mean to snap. You can investigate if you want. I just—.

That’s OK, I said. But I don’t agree with your or the police. I don’t think this is a harmless prank. We need to find out who gave this to you.

Just so you know, I’m not backing down. I’ve invested too much in this project to just give up. This movie will really help this town. If someone isn’t into zombies, tough. The genre has come a long way in the last 20-30 years. It’s almost an art form.

I nodded in agreement. Well once I have my makeup on we’ll see how much of an art form it is.

Speaking of makeup, I don’t think Mandy will have to do too much on your mask. You’ve been looking pretty zombie-like lately, dude.

Thanks, I said. You’re a real pal.

My cell phone rang and I answered. A loud voice squawked over the receiver, an excited voice. It sounded like my buddy Van.

Slow down, what’s up? I said

Justin, you have to get down here. Something’s happened.

Where are you? I asked.

At the movie set. Corner of Main and Pine St. That's where the make-up tent is —well what’s left of it.

I’ll be right there.

Zach’s phone buzzed and he answered as I pulled on my high-tops and headed to the door.

What! Zach blurted. Be right there!

He followed me to the door and pulled on his flip flops. Something’s happened downtown, he said. At the movie set. Is that what Van called about?

Yeah, I said grimly. Come on, we’ll take my SUV.

We went out to the street and got in my blue SUV. I pulled away from the curb and headed downtown.

A fire truck approached us from behind on Main St and I pulled over to let it pass. This isn’t a good sign, Zach muttered.

Van said something about the make-up tent. He wouldn’t elaborate but it sounded serious.

We continued downtown and as we got nearer we could see smoke rising above some of the buildings. Not a good sign, at all, Zach repeated.

The movie company had set up a number of tents along Main St  in the downtown core of Port Salser, as this is where some of the filming was to take place later today. The “tent city” could be moved around to the various filming locations as needed.

I parked in a city parking lot as close to the sets as I could and we got out and I locked up the SUV. My buddy Van and Raj came over to us at that moment, Van looking like a zombie with bloodshot eyes and cuts on his cheek. Tattered clothing completed the look.

Say, that's an improvement, I said, unable to resist despite the situation. Van just rolled his eye. He would get me back later.

My other buddy, Raj Mistry was not in make-up yet, his dark brown hair and brown skin glistened with sweat. He was dressed similarly to Zach in t-shirt, cut-offs and flip flops. He, being my hip, cool friend, also sported a neatly trimmed moustache.

It was unseasonably hot for June and Van's make-up was already showing signs of “melting” in the heat.

What's happened, Zach asked, following Raj back down the street to the make-up tent. I brought up the rear with Van in tow.

Tent's on fire, Raj reported, turning back to me as we walked quickly along the street. About a block away the fire truck that had passed us earlier was parked along Main St, it's hoses trained on a large canvas tent that was engulfed in flames!

Police and firemen had cordoned off the area and had put up barricades. Zach tried to jump one of them but was stopped by a police officer. It was actually someone I knew, Officer Paul Canning of the local Port Salser Police.

Whoa there, son, Paul said, waving him back. Stay back! Paul noticed me at that moment. Justin, figured I would see you here sooner or later.

What's happened—besides the obvious, I muttered glancing at the tent in flames. The fire was almost out, smoke and soot were still billowing into the sky.

We got a call from the movie people that the make-up tent was on fire. They fire marshal is launching an investigation as soon as the flames are out—which should be any minute. Listen, stay back and out of the way, he added gruffly. He turned away and headed back to his cruiser.

What's got into him? Van muttered. He's usually so happy go lucky.

I don't know, I said, lost in thought. Canning and I usually joked around, he knew my reputation as being an amateur detective in town and didn't usually mind my poking around, but he seemed unusually gruff today.

We watched in silence as the firemen battled the final few flames. Once the fire was out, the hoses were retracted and the fire trucks left the scene. The fire marshal, Bryan Mackenzie stayed behind with two of his investigators, I didn't recognize them—and was talking to Canning. They came over to where I was standing with Van Raj and Zach.

Mr. Bristow, Mackenzie said, extending his hand to Zach, who shook it. I'm Bryan Mackenzie, fire marshal. Can we have a few words?

Zach nodded. Can Justin come with us?

Canning went to shake his head but Mackenzie looked at me with his hard grey eyes and relented. He was about 6'4” with his blond hair in a buzz cut and was clean shaven. Very well, he said. Come with me.

I followed Zach, Mackenzie and a scowling Canning to the fire truck that had remained on the scene. Mackenzie pulled a large metal clipboard from the truck and headed over to the smoldering tent. Without getting too close he stopped at an area at the base of the tent around the back of it. You're in charge of this shoot, are you? Mackenzie said turning to Zach.

I'm the director, Zach said, voice trembling. But I have a production manager, Lee—Lee Landers. He's in c-charge of facilities and—well stuff like that, Zach remarked with a nervous grin.

Mackenzie nodded. Very well, he said. He pointed to the base of the tent and we noticed something that should not have been there.

It's pretty crude, Mackenzie said. But it looks like someone started this fire on purpose. The object we were looking at was a cigarette lighter!

Whoa! Zach blurted, rubbing his face in frustration. Mackenzie picked up the lighter with gloved hands and put it in an evidence bag.

Sir! A voice called out behind us. A young firefighter who had remained behind with Mackenzie's team was holding up another object. A small gas can. He brought it over to where Mackenzie was standing.

Where did you find it, Robbie?

In a garbage bin near the entrance to the tent, Robbie replied. He was a tall dark haired young man, barely out of his teens. I didn't recognize him so he must have originally been from out of town.

Mackenzie turned to Zach. Seems you or someone on your crew has an enemy, he remarked. This fire was set on purpose.

The Captive Missile Chapter 6-Final Chapter!

The Captive Missile

Chapter 6

Natalie spoke up at that moment. We’re going to crash!

Adams remained stone faced as the ground came nearer and nearer, then the plane rose up again, higher and higher in the sky. Soon we were above the clouds. Maybe Adams wasn’t going to crash the plane after all. My hopes were soon dashed when he unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed a pack from behind his seat.

A parachute. He was going to jump!

He quickly strapped it on while Van, Natalie and I watched in disbelief. You’ve got to be kidding, Natalie spat. What are you going to do? Just leave us here while you bail.

That’s the plan, little lady, Adams said as he finished strapping the parachute. He flicked the autopilot then headed to the back of the plane.

I was in handcuffs and couldn’t do much. Van looked ready to throw up. Natalie would have to fly the plane and land it.

Wind whipped through the plane as Adams opened the back hatch. A minute later he jumped.

Go and close the door, Van, Natalie ordered. She moved into the pilot seat. He knew you were a pilot, why would he just leave you here to fly it. I asked. Not that I’m complaining but Adams didn’t look dumb enough to forget a small detail like that.

He didn’t, Natalie said a moment later. He rigged this so I can’t fly it. He’s locked out the controls and the landing gear won’t come down.

Van had closed the hatch and sat back down. He was white as a sheet. What was that last bit? He said.

You don’t want to know. I said.

You can’t land this plane? That’s just great.

I have an idea. She said, through gritted teeth. She banked the plane and we headed north again. She dropped altitude below the clouds and the snow was visible on the ground below. Remember, on our way up here I mentioned Tabor’s pass?

I nodded.

We might be able to land without landing gear. It’ll be a rough landing but I think we can do it.

But once we’re down how do we contact anyone to rescue us? I asked.

Haven’t got that far yet. Do you want to live or not? I’ll get us down alive first then we can worry about that. Anyway, they’ll be waiting for us in Iqaluit. When we don’t arrive on schedule, they’ll come looking for us, don’t worry.

We circled lower and lower. Tabor’s pass wasn’t too far away now. I thought I could see it in the distance.

A little lower, Natalie murmured. The pass came into view closer and closer. I recognized the area as close to where we crashed the other plane only yesterday.

There’s the plane, Van said, pointing to the north. Sure enough, the plane was visible against the bright snow. A minute later we touched down, the plane jolted and slid on the hard-packed snow. Natalie fought to bring it under control. The plane skidded and flipped over. My head cracked against the ceiling and I blacked out.

I heard my name from what seemed a far distance. Justin. Justin. Are you awake? It was Van. I slowly came to. My wrists were still in the handcuffs and my arms were sore. I had landed upside down on them. My left arm felt numb while my right was in pain. I think I broke my arm; I said.

Feeling groggy. I tried to move to sit up. Van had cut my seatbelt, and I tried to move around but the handcuffs were hindering my progress. With Van’s help I finally sat up. I was cold. The window was smashed.

Where are we? We crashed didn’t we?

Yes, Natalie’s gone for help. She’ll be back soon.

I tried to rest but my arm was throbbing. I wish I could get these handcuffs off, I muttered.

I tried to cut them with these, Van said pulling a wire cutter off the ground. There was a toolbox in the back. I used these to cut the seatbelts.

Soon Natalie returned and reported that she reached the other plane and was able to get a message to Northlands about what had happened.

Apparently what was jamming the signal yesterday was no longer being used. I spoke with Hannigan and he’s mounting an investigation.

We have to stop Adams and Meager, I remarked. How close are we to the shoreline and the cave?

I saw the snow was disturbed not far from here. That must be where Adams landed. The cave is not far.

With van and Natalie’s help they dragged me out of the plane. I was able to walk but my arm was still throbbing.

With both Natalie and Van using the wire cutters, they had managed to break the handcuffs off me. Natalie also found a first aid kit and was able to set my arm and put a sling on it.

We need to stop Adams and Meager; I said when she was done. I started walking in a southerly direction.

No, Justin it’s too dangerous, Natalie warned.

Don’t—Van said.

I turned and continued walking. The crest of the hill and the cave were indeed not far. I had to stop Adams before he left with the missile.

Van followed me while Natalie stayed with the plane to wait for the rescuers. Together we crested the hill and looked at the shoreline below. It was a mess of snow and rock, where the explosion had ripped apart the front of the cave. Just enough room to hide a missile.

There didn’t seem to be anyone around. Adams couldn’t have gotten back here and moved the missile already, could he?

Suddenly I heard voices from around the mouth of the cave. The voices seemed to be arguing. Van and I crept closer.

You told me the boat would be here by 1 pm, I heard Adams say. Where is it?

It’s coming, sir, the suave, oily voice of Lars Meager. There are many patrols in Baffin Bay. It is a long way from Greenland to Baffin Island. He will be here soon.

My eyes scanned the water and could see no boats approaching. Maybe they were caught by the RCMP. Adams would have seen that the RCMP was on the wrong trail, however. But now that Hannigan has been alerted to Adams deception, he longer had the upper hand. The RCMP should be converging on this spot now. I only hoped they would be here first before Meager’s men arrived.

The men were silent for a moment. Then Adams spoke up. They’re on to us, he said calmly. That Macdonald kid and his friends got a message to Northlands. They must have survived the crash.

You told me they would be killed, Meager said. This is your fault.

Nothing we can do about it now. We need to leave now—wait. I have another idea.

They were quiet again then Adams voice spoke up. “This is Adams, he said. You must call off the RCMP from Mirror Bay Inlet. I am in possession of the Informant and have it trained on the Northlands facility. If you do not comply I will set off the missile and it will hit its intended target.

The boat is here, Meager said. I glanced out on the water and didn’t see the boat until it was entering the cove. Van and I were concealed behind a mound of snow and rock. Meager and Adams went out to meet it.

While they two men were boarding the ship, we made our move. Slipping down the slope to the cave, we quickly went inside. The missile was not too far from the entrance. We had to hurry. Adams and Meager would be back soon—and there was nowhere to hide in the cave.

During my study of the missile for science class I had memorized the guidance system controls. All I had to do was disable the control and get back out before Meager and Adams returned.

Time was against us. Suddenly the controls looked different from what I remembered. Did the design change? Or was I just nervous.

What’s wrong, Justin? Van asked. I wish I could help you, but when we were doing our science projects frankly I wasn’t paying that much attention.

I lifted the guidance panel and saw the controls. Now they looked familiar. I knew what I had to do. Not harm the system, just disengage it.

I found the controls I wanted and changed the settings to OFF.

Justin, I think they’re coming back. Let’s go.

Done, come on.

We made our way to the exit of the cave.

It was too late. Meager saw us first and motioned to Adams. You! He roared bounding up the hill towards us. What are you doing here?

What’s it look like? We’re foiling your plans. I said smugly. It’s over, Adams. The RCMP—real RCMP—is on its way.

Step away from the missile, he said. We’re taking it now. The real RCMP won’t get here in time.

He might be right, so I had to stall him as long as I could. But what could I do. I couldn’t fight anyone with my arm like this. Van might be able to take Meager, but both Meager and Adams? Adams might be a criminal but he was a trained RCMP officer nonetheless. I willed Hannigan and his men to get here and soon.

I heard the sound of a helicopter and was ecstatic. The cavalry was here! But my hopes were soon dashed. As the men were moving the missile out of the cave, Meager turned to Adams. My men are here—finally. We’ll fly north into the Arctic Circle. Our landing spot in Siberia is waiting.

Good. Adams remarked. He turned to me. See we’ll outsmart the RCMP after all. They’re coming by boat and we’re leaving by helicopter.

I gritted my teeth in frustration. Of course they wouldn’t go by boat, with everyone patrolling the Baffin Bay, they wouldn’t get away. If only I could get to the radio and warn Northlands before the helicopter reached Siberia.

The missile would be lost forever once it was in Russia.

Tie them up, Adams roared to the two men once the missile was out of the cave. A winch was lowered from the helicopter and Meager attached it, then the helicopter lowered to the ground the pick up its passengers.

Van and I were roughly tied together, my arm was throbbing again. Adams didn’t seem to care.

Soon the helicopter was gone. We’ll freeze before they find us, Van said, pulling at his ropes.

No, we won’t, I said calmly which infuriated Van. How do you know?

Northlands should be tracking the helicopter. It won’t make it out of Canada. Isn’t that right, I said in a louder voice?

Copy that, Mr. Macdonald. A voice from the radio. Mr. Hannigan.

We heard everything. We’ll have Adams in custody soon. My men have been dispatched to apprehend the helicopter and to rescue you and your two friends.

Two hours later seated in the hospital in Iqaluit, surrounded by Van and Natalie and the police officers and Hannigan. I gave a full report of what had happened. Adams fingerprints were found on my phone. It was he who snuck into the barracks and called Meager on my phone. My little investigation and learning of Meager’s name only helped his cause when I let slip the name.

I would like to formally apologize, Hannigan remarked. Adams had me fooled. I was suspicious of you but couldn’t prove anything. He helped convince me you were guilty. He was good, I’ll give him that.

He was good, but I can’t believe he forgot about the radio, Natalie spoke up.

Yeah, I managed to turn it on when he wasn’t looking. I only hoped someone was listening on the other end, I related. I was only hoping they would recognize Adams voice but when he said where they were headed that was a bonus.

Well, he’s been apprehended, Hannigan said and the missile has been recovered. It’s no worse for wear for its ordeal in the cave.

How it was stolen in the first place, Van wondered. The cleaner was framed. By Adams?

Yes, Adams using his RCMP influence allowed the terrorists to gain access to the facility. They were only meant as a distraction. He betrayed them to make himself look good and throw any suspicion off himself then he and Meager blew up the cave with the officers in it to make it look like the missile had been taken out over Baffin Bay but really it was put in the cave with Meager, which I learned when I overheard Adams last night.

Adams met Meager years before in Moscow. Meager came to Adams with the idea of stealing the missile and Adams being stationed in Nunavut was in a perfect position to be security liaison to Hannigan at Northlands.

Hannigan shook his head. I can’t believe I worked with Adams for years and he betrayed us all. But thanks to Justin and his friends Van and Natalie the missile has been recovered and the tests will continue

Natalie looked a little glum at this news. But not here in Nunavut, Hannigan went on. We have permission to do the tests in Siberia.

Natalie was happy at this news. My parents live in Inuvik and will be ecstatic about this news, she said.

I was glad everything worked out but was sad to see the end of another mystery. One would soon come along when I would investigate the SECRET OF THE STONE IDOL.

You’re all invited to the first test, Hannigan said. Think you can make the trip to Siberia.

Sure, Van said, but can it be in the summer? I’ve had enough northern winters to last me a lifetime!

**the end**

Finished Saturday January 28, 2012 @ 10:15 pm