Convinced that she was going
to be the first newsperson to go down onto the beach, Sue Taylor woke while it
was still dark, her alarm blaring cheerful bubblegum-pop music. Groaning, she switched off the music and
shuffled off to begin her morning routine.
Hours later, the faintest hint of sunlight strained to chase away the
darkness. Golden mist swirled in the breeze and danced beneath the soft pink
clouds.
“It’s going to be a gorgeous day, isn’t it boys?” Sue
announced to her camera crew.
“I dunno…do you really think it’s safe to go down to the
beach this early?”
“Yes!” She snapped angrily. “Grady and his deputies said
so at the town meeting. They’ve been on
the beach during the daytime plenty of times and they’re just fine.”
“Maybe we should wait just a little longer though, just
until the sun is fully up. Maybe closer to noon?”
“No! We need to get down there before the cops do so I can
get the best shots.”
Despite the camera crew’s
objection, Sue Taylor got her way. They
loaded up the van and drove as slowly as they could manage without getting chewed
out by “the talent”. Above, the sky had lightened to a picture-perfect blue speckled
with puffy, white clouds but dark, ominous, storm clouds of fear hovered over
their hearts. Though she would never
admit it, even Sue felt the stirrings of panic as they made their way down
toward the water’s edge. The squawking
cry of a lone seagull made all four members of the Neighborhood News team jump. They giggled nervously at their own jagged
nerves and found comfort in having company as they drew closer to the dreaded
water. At first glance, there was
nothing, not a single trace that there had been people on the beach the night
before. They strolled along for a few yards thinking that perhaps the whole
story had been blown grossly out of proportion; until they came across the
first cluster of mutilated body parts.
The camera men vomited into the ocean only to let loose another round
when the chunks swirled back around their feet as the next wave rolled in to
caress the wet sand.
“Eww! You guys are disgusting!” Sue squealed, turning her
back to them. “Can you pull yourselves
together so I can get this report finished?”
Several minutes later, once
everyone’s stomach had been emptied and there was nothing left to come back up,
Sue retouched her makeup and they were ready to start. Each time the wind
shifted, they scrambled to find a new spot, up wind, to film. Without really
looking, the camera men panned across mounds of mutilated flesh crawling with
ocean-dwelling scavengers. Bone
fragments, oozing organs, and tiny rivers of coagulating blood seeped into the
sand. Waves of salty water rushed in to mingle with the befouled remains from a
myriad of hopeless souls, the smaller bits bobbing up and down in the foamy
spray. The cameramen insisted there
was absolutely no way they’d be able to show that kind of gore on-air but Sue was adamant.
“Look, just film what I say and I’ll take care of the
rest. I’m getting national recognition so the station will listen to me. Bottom
line: shut up and do your job. You’re not here to think or give me your
opinion. If I had the time, I’d train a monkey to do your job so I didn’t have
to listen to your whining. Just get everything ready because I want to film my
sign off sometime today!”
“Don’t let her get to you, Earl.” Freddy, the camera-two
cinematographer whispered. “She’s a witch and everyone knows it. Besides, the
sooner we get this wrapped up the sooner we can get out of here. All these dead
bodies and…pieces, ugh, it’s giving me the creeps. Let the station manager deal
with her.”
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