Story #313 - Son Light

Son Light

“Really?” Indo Brown could hear his wife’s voice climb in pitch. She’d only been on the phone for five minutes, but Indo could guess what the conversation was about.

“I don’t have time for this!” Frustration was seeping into Sheena’s normally calm tone, and so far as he knew there was only one person could get her that riled up. “I’ll talk to your father – don’t you do a single thing until you hear back from us.” There was the distinct sound of a phone being hung up hard; they had never upgraded to one of the fancy cordless models and while the springy cord was inconvenient it certainly made angry hang-ups more satisfying.

“Indo!” She called, and for a moment he considered escaping into the garage or the basement and making her work to find him. He sighed. Escape wasn’t possible, and giving her time to cool down wouldn’t work – she’d just get more riled up.

“Yes, dear?” He said mildly. There was a slim chance her anger could be headed off if he acted as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened or been heard.

“Do you have any idea what your son has been up to? Do you?”

Indo signed. Brahl was always his son when things went wrong and their son when he was home for the holidays or getting a promotion at work. When he decided to run with the undead…

“I can guess,” Indo sighed.

“He’s out with those ‘friends’ of his again, and now he’s in trouble,” Sheena went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Why does he do this to us every year?”

That was really no mystery; their son had a large streak of rebellion in his nature, and there were few things that went further against the societal grain than spending time with those who had been certifiably grave-risen. Once only a myth and the stuff of legend, modern science had finally produced a sure-fire formula for immortality – providing the subject was already dead.

Anti-dead protests had sprung up across the country along with talk of having the practice banned but it quickly became too widespread. Families that had lost loved ones refused to let them go peacefully and were willing to pay whatever it took to have them returned – never mind that they were never quite the same. Rumors flew about the need of the once-corpses to eat human flesh and feast on human brains, but the truth was that they were just a little strange, just a little off the beaten path.

They were also real jerks.

“I don’t know, Sheena – kids just being kids, I suppose.”

Indo’s wife shot him a dark glare. “He’s twenty-seven, Ind. Brahl should know better than to get messed up with a crowd like that.”

Mentioning that he had been just as rebellious at that age was a surefire way to have Sheena’s anger spread, and he could live without another lecture. Twelve years had taught him the value of his wife’s companionship and also that she had a very penetrating voice when she was angry.

“I’ll deal with it,” he sighed. “Where is our wayward child?”

“Trassel. The rest station near the turnoff.” Sheena crossed her arms. “It’s getting dark – you had better go now.”

Indo sighed again. The last quarter of the game was just starting, but there was no case he could make that would convince his wife that Brahl would be fine for an extra half an hour. With a grunt he heaved up and out of his deep armchair and made for the garage; the quicker he dealt with his fool son, the quicker he could get back and see the highlights.

***

“Brahl!” He called again, and finally heard a rustling in the bushes next to the reststop’s outhouse. “Get your ass out here!”

There was a moment of silence and then his son burst into the parking lot, breathing heavily and covered with pine needles and sap.

“Dad!” Brahl was breathing hard. “Thank god!”

“Get it the car, son,” Indo said through clenched teeth. “Now.”

Brahl was wise enough not to argue and quickly pulled open the passenger side door, climbed inside and locked it behind him.

“Please dad,” he said, voice tight, “I –“

“Shut up!” Indo cut him off. “I’m sick of this, Brahl. You’re a man now, and you need to start acting like one. Your mother is worried sick – again – and I’m out here in the middle of nowhere – again – because you can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”

“Dad, I know, but please you need to –“ There was real fear in Brahl’s voice. Maybe the truth was finally sinking in.

“I need to nothing!” Indo roared. “You’re the one who’s going to have to change or one of these times I’m not going to be here, not going to come out here and save you!”


“You’re not saving me now!” His son screamed. “Drive, please!”

“What?” Indo managed before he heard a low moaning sound, one that pulled his eyes off of his son’s terrified face and out to the bare parking lot.

What had been the bare parking lot.

They were coming from all sides, shambling things that looked just like the zombies he’d heard about the in movies. Most of them were wide-eyed and dull, but three or four had blood staining their clothing and crazed looks on their faces.

“DAD!” Brahl’s shout broke Indo from his stupor and he jammed down the gas, taking out several of the undead on his way through the parking lot and back to the freeway. By the time they were up to speed with other traffic questions began forming in Indo’s mind but fear and confusion left him spinning.

“Son,” he began, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Dad, I know this was stupid but listen, please,” Brahl interrupted and Indo didn’t stop him. “Everything was fine until about an hour ago. One of my friends –“ he paused. ”One of those things had a strange flashlight with him, something he said could make the others almost human again. It was a big joke, we all had a good laugh between puffs of –“ Brahl coughed. “Air. Fresh air.”

“Go on,” Indo said quietly.

“Well, he started shining the thing around and suddenly – look out!”

Indo slammed on the brakes, barely avoiding a collision. The road was covered in them – not a few, not hundreds. Thousands.

He wasn’t going to see the highlights.


- D