Dead Earth

Matt Demers

dhj 2013 · Indie Books

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 And the boy’s gaze would haunt James forever. Because it seemed to be Phil still — the kid across the street with the soft handshake and polite manners and unstoppable off-tackle. Phillip looked up and his eyes met James’. Phil stopped eating then, and just stared. James stared back, saying everything but nothing at all, two neighbors considering each other from opposite ends of a shallow grave. They seemed to share the same universal thought — what have we come to? 

Phil's eyes dropped to the pavement and his shoulders sunk, a melted candle of a boy. 
“Am I next?” James asked. 
“We’ll see,” Phil responded in a somber voice and as if it wasn't up to him. 
He returned to his work, pulling and stabbing and cutting away at the dead girl’s oozing jugular. James recognized her — the girl who made the front page of the Greenville Times for tying the district’s 400-meter sprint record. His inclination was right — she was Phil’s girlfriend indeed. The paper had run a photo of the couple in tux and gown, standing in the atrium of Greenville’s aquatic center. Runners-up to the coveted Prom king and queen, the photo inset had read. She had looked pissed about it. 
Phil pulled and tore at her. Strands of flesh, still attached to the corpse, hung from his bloody grasp like tight elastic bands. When his eyes met James’ again, they embodied blank serenity. The boy was content with the meal before him, and content that James was far enough away not to take it... 

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Matt Demers is a horror novelist, sports biographer, editor, publisher, and graphic design artist living in one of the most polluted, industrialized city in North America. He likes dogs, and his signature move is the Atomic Leg-Drop.