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.