Tim Curran by Zombie Zoology

Author:Zombie Zoology
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-01T11:47:47+00:00

Lionel sat motionless in his armchair now, his eyes once again lingering on Saxon’s collar on the coffee table as he recalled that same scene from three days ago as though it had just occurred. ‘It wasn’t my fault’ cried an indignant voice in his head. ‘How was I to know that Saxon discovered something other than a bee in the bushes that day?’ But beneath the tarnished sheen of his supremely righteous ego, Lionel found himself unable to ignore the thick grimy layer of shameful guilt deposited by the young postman’s death.

Up until the moment the lad had come calling the morning after all the commotion, he had honestly thought nothing of the fact that Saxon had been keeping a low profile all night. He had assumed, incorrectly, that his four-legged friend was merely skulking about upstairs in order to hide his embarrassment at once again coming off worst from an encounter with an insect only a fraction of his size.

The familiar sound of a cheerful whistle meandering through the chorus of ‘Moon River’ had signalled the arrival of the post at around eight-thirty and being already up and dressed, Lionel had headed to the front door, intent on saying a brief hello as he collected the mail. The postman had waved in recognition, a handful of letters already in his hands as Lionel unfastened the door chain and grappled clumsily with the dead bolts. But as the door swung open, Lionel had seen the youth’s cheery expression rapidly turn to one of confusion and then abject terror as he stared past Lionel into the house.

The next thing Lionel knew, he was being thrown roughly against the now fully open door as a bedraggled mass of blood and fur barrelled past him towards the open-mouthed postman. Lionel’s first thought had been that some wild animal had somehow managed to force its way into the house during the night, such was the difference in appearance between the hellish creature that blurred past him and the beloved friend he knew so well. Every inch of Saxon’s body dripped in copious amounts of a sticky fluid, which appeared to be a syrupy mixture of blood, saliva and pus. In places, the dog’s fur was matted into thick clumps of hair, clustered together in groups across his back like angry carbuncles. Amongst these congealed dark knots, patches of fur were missing, apparently ripped out by Saxon himself, the skin beneath ragged and bloody where the distressed animal had bitten deep into his own flesh.

The postman was already beginning to back away, but had hardly moved in the direction of the gate when the thing that used to be Saxon was upon him. He managed a brief yell of panic before the Alsatian leapt up at him, hitting the terrified man square in the chest and knocking him to the ground with its considerable weight.

Lionel knew now that he should have done something at that point. He should have darted forward and tried to

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