This excerpt is from chapter six of the fourth book in the Sundowners series; no sooner have our heroes Tyler and Fivehawk have joined a patrol of US Army soldiers, than their camp is attacked by a group of the undead...

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Finch chambered another round in his Winchester and fired at the attacker who rushed at him, sending the shot right though his sternum in a splinter of dry, rotten bone. The man-creature staggered, then turned back to advance on him, brandishing a jammed pistol like a billy club.

"Get offa me!" Finch cried.

Sandoval and Anderson were side-by-side, both desperately ejecting spent shell casings from their guns so they could reload. "Captain, did I die in my sleep? Have I just woken up in hell instead of the plains?"

The army officer shook his head. "Steady, lad. If this is Hades, then we all have to fight the devils together."

As one, both men turned on their attackers and opened fire; but once more, the shots did nothing more than slow the Shades down.

"But where did these things come from?" Tyler cried, taking aim and firing off another brace of ineffectual bullets. "Demon dogs we seen, sure, but the living dead?" Strange how monster hounds are commonplace to me now, Tyler thought, It would be funny if I wasn't scared out of my wits.

"The beast's power is strong here," said Fivehawk, pulling weapons from his saddlebags. "Enough to give it control over the flesh of the dead. I've never seen such a foul, unnatural magic as this. It's against the order of life."

"Yeah, well we're going to be just like them in a second unless we can stop them, uh, dead."

"Your bullets will have no effect. Perhaps a blade instead…" As Fivehawk tugged a pair of throwing axes from his pack, one of the Shades came at the two of them, brandishing the broken stub of a shotgun.

Tyler reacted quickly, grabbing a hefty branch from the still-smouldering fire and thrust it at his enemy. With a whoosh of ignition, the burning wood touched the dry, papery clothing of the Shade, catching it alight. The creature fell away, crumbling and breaking apart into bones and dust.

"Fire good!" shouted Tyler.

A second attacker reared up and blindsided the gunslinger, slamming him to his knees, raking his back with sharp fingernails. Fivehawk saw a chance and took it, swinging his tomahawk high. It was a lucky strike, and it hit the Shade in the throat. Putting all his effort into the blow, Fivehawk was still shocked when the attacker's head came free from its body and arced into the air. The corpse shattered almost instantly.

For McNeil, it was a nightmare made flesh - grey, cold, dead flesh. As a child, his grandfather had told him tales of the voodoo priests of Haiti that left him wide-eyed and transfixed, of how their black magic could conjure up life in the dead and reanimate them as creatures they called zombies. He had known young Todd Cooper for a couple of years now, and it was like a terrible dark dream from his youth as the corpse of his friend came at him intent on ending his life. The Cooper-thing tried to strangle him, but McNeil pushed it away, ducking a punch to the temple - just barely. As he turned away he caught the gaze of the Indian, what was his name, Fivehawk?

Without thinking, Fivehawk tossed his second tomahawk at McNeil, and the soldier caught it easily. The Indian made a gesture at his neck, holding his hand flat out in front of it like a blade. The meaning was clear - strike the throat! The Shade that had once been Todd Cooper attacked again, and McNeil bit back a spark of compassion in his heart as he struck forward with the throwing axe.

"Todd, I'm sorry!" he cried, and cut out at the creature, ending its unholy parody of life in one hard blow.

Sandoval witnessed Fivehawk's actions and drew his cavalry sword, squaring off against another one of the Shades. He advanced and stabbed, sending the blade into the intruder's stomach. The tip of the sword emerged out of the creature's back and it grinned at him with a skull-like face minus a lower jaw. A moment of panic hit the Captain, and he stabbed again twice, three times. Still the Shade circled him, none the worse for wear.

"The head!" He heard Tyler's voice carry through the crisp air. "Take off his head, Captain!"

The corpse-like figure took the initiative and attacked, clawing a ragged rent in Sandoval's coat, and he cried out. The pain was enough focus his mind and he swung the sword in a wide semi-circle, cutting through the creature's neck with a snapping crack of decrepit cartilage. Like a felled tree, the beheaded Shade dropped away to the ground and was still.

© J.Swallow, 2001.

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