He had detested him for as far back as he could remember,
and with what he thought was good reason. This man, John Wankell, would go
around the town at night and steal dogs and cats to butcher. Unfortunately,
there was never any proof just Ricky’s word against his, and John being the
adult he got the benefit of the doubt. He tried not to be any where near him
and would often go blocks out of his way to avoid John’s house. But today he
was in a hurry to get to the baseball game, so he went the quick route right
down his street. He had heard the term, ‘All Hell break loose’, but until this
day he could have never imagined it being so literal. There was a reddish
tornado standing in John’s front yard, and coming out of it were zombified housepets.
He pulled himself out of his shocked state and began to turn around to look for
help. Right behind him was John; with what he was sure was a mirror image of
the shock on his own face.
“I didn’t think they would do this, they just asked for the
pets as payment for me living in the house.” He stuttered out, “You have to
believe me and you have to help me!”
Life sometimes makes strange bed-fellows he thought as he
threw down his bike and reached for the bat. Mrs. Gadson’s cat, that he noticed
missing three weeks ago, was the first to get its head lobbed off, followed by
Davey’s ol’ hound Spot that everyone thought got lost in the woods. His stomach
was barely able to keep its morning contents as they approached the windstorm.
Being disgusted by flying bits of trusty companions would have to wait, him and
John Wankell were about to go into the middle of hellspawn to save their
neighborhood.
