staring at the floor. He was still in shock from his ordeal with the undead, and the gruesome images of the Miller family continued to flash through his mind. Rose turned to him. “Can you hand me that towel?” she asked.
Markley’s gaze was still caught on the floor and he didn’t respond. Mason took deep breaths and gasped for air. He grew pale from blood loss and his lips had lost their color.
“Deputy Markley,” she said, straining to get his attention.
He looked up from his stupor, pulled out of the daze. “Oh…yes, sorry.” He grabbed the clean towel and passed it to Rose, who replaced the blood-soaked towel on Mason’s chest and continued to hold pressure.
Johnny appeared out of a back room with a stack of fresh white towels in his hands. “What in the hell is going on around here?” He said as he set the towels next to Mason.
Rose grabbed a clean towel from the stack and used it to wipe blood from her face. “I don’t know. None of this makes any sense.”
“ First the doc and his wife were attacked…and now Mason?” he said, and sat down next to the deputy. “What the hell was wrong with those people in the street?”
“They looked sick,” she responded.
“I don’t know, Rose. I haven’t seen too many dead men in my life, but they sure as hell fit the bill.”
“How could they be dead? That doesn’t make any sense,” she stated.
“I don’t know exactly what I saw out there…but it felt evil,” Johnny said, and handed her another clean towel. “Their skin was just hanging from their bones, like it had rotted some.”
On the other side of the parlor , the Gunman stepped over to a window and glanced through the wooden slats. Outside, several townspeople had gathered around the undead bodies and began to inspect them with caution. One of the men had kneeled down and was looking at the bullet hole through the undead’s temple.
Deputy Markley was still sitting in his stool at the bar, trying his best to regain his composure , but he couldn’t get rid of the awful images in his mind. “ Horrible --,” he spoke under his breath. “Just horrible --,” he repeated.
The Gunman turned to Markley, very interested in what he had to say.
“ What I saw was horrible. Those people--.” Markley could only shake his head at the thought.
“ What people?” interjected Sheriff Pickett.
“I don’t know who they were …but they were eating them.”
“Excuse me? What are you talking about, son.” Pickett stepped closer to Markley and slapped his hands together, trying to get his attention. “Markley!” he exclaimed.
Markley snapped out of it and nearly fell from his chair. “Sorry, Sheriff.” He leveled his eyes at Pickett. “The Miller's. They're all dead. All of them . There were people in their home--, I…I can’t explain it…but they were eating them.”
Rose turned away from the bar and shook her head in disbelief.
“ My god, no--.” She said, eyes welling with tears.
“ What do you mean, eating them ?” the Sheriff probed.
“That’s exactly what I saw. It was awful.”
Rose fell backward and stumbled into a chair. “No!” She sat down and began to cry into her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Johnny placed his hand on her shoulder and tried to console her grief.
Cutler appeared with Andrew from the second floor. He was still pale, but seemed fully recovered from the initial shock of Rebecca’s death. He walked over to the table where Mason lay and lifted the towel off of his chest, and then checked the wound on his thigh. Johnny could tell from the look on his face that it was bad.
“ What's wrong?” Johnny asked anxiously.
“ His wounds are deep. He's bleeding from an artery in his leg, and I don't have any surgical equipment here.” He notched the belt tighter around Mason's leg. “I’m sorry, but he’s lost a lot of blood, and there's not much I can do.”
“But, we can take him to your office, right?”
“No, w e'd be too late,” Andrew
Markley’s gaze was still caught on the floor and he didn’t respond. Mason took deep breaths and gasped for air. He grew pale from blood loss and his lips had lost their color.
“Deputy Markley,” she said, straining to get his attention.
He looked up from his stupor, pulled out of the daze. “Oh…yes, sorry.” He grabbed the clean towel and passed it to Rose, who replaced the blood-soaked towel on Mason’s chest and continued to hold pressure.
Johnny appeared out of a back room with a stack of fresh white towels in his hands. “What in the hell is going on around here?” He said as he set the towels next to Mason.
Rose grabbed a clean towel from the stack and used it to wipe blood from her face. “I don’t know. None of this makes any sense.”
“ First the doc and his wife were attacked…and now Mason?” he said, and sat down next to the deputy. “What the hell was wrong with those people in the street?”
“They looked sick,” she responded.
“I don’t know, Rose. I haven’t seen too many dead men in my life, but they sure as hell fit the bill.”
“How could they be dead? That doesn’t make any sense,” she stated.
“I don’t know exactly what I saw out there…but it felt evil,” Johnny said, and handed her another clean towel. “Their skin was just hanging from their bones, like it had rotted some.”
On the other side of the parlor , the Gunman stepped over to a window and glanced through the wooden slats. Outside, several townspeople had gathered around the undead bodies and began to inspect them with caution. One of the men had kneeled down and was looking at the bullet hole through the undead’s temple.
Deputy Markley was still sitting in his stool at the bar, trying his best to regain his composure , but he couldn’t get rid of the awful images in his mind. “ Horrible --,” he spoke under his breath. “Just horrible --,” he repeated.
The Gunman turned to Markley, very interested in what he had to say.
“ What I saw was horrible. Those people--.” Markley could only shake his head at the thought.
“ What people?” interjected Sheriff Pickett.
“I don’t know who they were …but they were eating them.”
“Excuse me? What are you talking about, son.” Pickett stepped closer to Markley and slapped his hands together, trying to get his attention. “Markley!” he exclaimed.
Markley snapped out of it and nearly fell from his chair. “Sorry, Sheriff.” He leveled his eyes at Pickett. “The Miller's. They're all dead. All of them . There were people in their home--, I…I can’t explain it…but they were eating them.”
Rose turned away from the bar and shook her head in disbelief.
“ My god, no--.” She said, eyes welling with tears.
“ What do you mean, eating them ?” the Sheriff probed.
“That’s exactly what I saw. It was awful.”
Rose fell backward and stumbled into a chair. “No!” She sat down and began to cry into her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Johnny placed his hand on her shoulder and tried to console her grief.
Cutler appeared with Andrew from the second floor. He was still pale, but seemed fully recovered from the initial shock of Rebecca’s death. He walked over to the table where Mason lay and lifted the towel off of his chest, and then checked the wound on his thigh. Johnny could tell from the look on his face that it was bad.
“ What's wrong?” Johnny asked anxiously.
“ His wounds are deep. He's bleeding from an artery in his leg, and I don't have any surgical equipment here.” He notched the belt tighter around Mason's leg. “I’m sorry, but he’s lost a lot of blood, and there's not much I can do.”
“But, we can take him to your office, right?”
“No, w e'd be too late,” Andrew
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