Strange Graves

My name is Edward and I am fourteen years old and I am going to visit the graveyard where my great-grandfather is buried.
I discovered this when looking through an old photo album I found in my attic. I was only looking for a bike my mum had told me was up there. She said I could have a look at it and see if I wanted it. The bike was my grand- father’s and hadn’t been used in years.
When I found it, dusty and covered in cobwebs
all I could do was splutter and cough. It didn’t look very good. All my friends would laugh at me. So would Lily Avers, the girl of my dreams. I sighed with frustration, wishing I could have the same neon-blue baby my best friend, Noah had. My mum said it was unnecessary when there was a perfectly good bike in the house.
“It just needs a bit of a clean!,” she had said, brightly.
Yeah sure, mum, I had thought, looking at the one thousand year old monstrosity in front of me. Someone actually rode this? I was mortified but I needed a bike, so, grimacing, I dragged it out from the attic, and as I did so, something fell out and landed on the floor below.
A photo album.

Later that night, while the rain lashed against the windows and the wind howled like a dying thing, I opened the album and studied the photos. I recognised the ones of my grandfather. I had seen some of them before. A handsome, but slightly lop-sided looking man, grinning in every photo and one in particular caught my eye. Sure enough, there was granddad standing next to the bike I had just exhumed, and I had to admit I was rather impressed.
Apparently when clean it was a rather nice shiny red. ‘Yeah,’ I thought, ‘sixty odd years ago,’ and my scowl returned. I turned the page and what I saw made me shiver. A photo of my great-grandfather, very faded, but I could make out the stern eyes, the carefully shaped moustache. I turned it over and saw in pencil: Thomas Alfred Bennington 1918. In writing that looked like my dad’s familiar scrawl I read:
'Grandad: buried at the Woods Graveyard'.
There was something weird about that photo. I felt drawn to it.

So, two weeks later me and my new, ancient bike, cleaned and oiled (and really looking most excellent though I won’t admit it), are ready for an adventure. I am excited about
visiting Woods Graveyard. My friends tell me it is haunted but I don’t believe them. I explain to my mum I am off for a ride and she reminds me to be back by nine. I shout ‘Bye!’ and, after crashing into the lamp post outside, I’m on my way.
The journey doesn’t take me long. Our family have been in this area for ages. My dad was born here and my mum moved here after meeting my dad at university; my grandfather was the mayor of the town back in the Forties, but Thomas Bennington
remains a mystery. No one has ever mentioned him. Once, when I was about six, I asked dad what his granddad was like. Dad went a strange colour and said, “He kept himself to himself, Ed.” That was it. So finding the photo was cool. Now I could try and find out more about him.
I get off my bike and leave it carefully against the church door. It is a small graveyard,
and I figure I’ll spot any potential thief in a few seconds. The sky, I notice, seems a lot darker
here, and I look around me, nervously. The graves here are hundreds of years old and covered in ivy and other leaves. It will take me ages to find the right one, and I only have a few hours.
“Thomas Bennington,” I mutter to myself.
All hell breaks loose. The sky, which has steadily been darkening just turns black. The graves around me start to tremble and shake…and glow…
The very ground I am standing on seems to groan. I scream. About one hundred dead people are rising up, breaking free from their tombs. They are making terrible sounds, wails and moans. I look desperately around me. It is so dark I cannot run, and I have a horrible suspicion that the dead can see me better than I can see them. Suddenly, I feel a hand grab my shoulder. I freeze.
“Edward?” The voice is like an echo.
“Edward…”
I turn around, my heart exploding. I find myself looking into the face of Thomas Bennington.
“We’ve got to stop them.”
He grabs my hand before I have time to think. The sky turns purple and I see myself going back in time, spinning and rolling through the air. We land with a bump, and we are back in the grave yard, but this time everything around me is in black and white. I shake my head, to try and bring back some colour but nothing happens. It is as though I am within an old photograph, like the ones I found in the attic. Thomas stands up and dusts himself off, and I notice for the first time that he too is as black and white as a chess board. I look down at my shoes, relieved to see the orange material, standing out brightly against the peculiar, black grass.
Thomas clears his throat, and studies my face.
“I am your great-grandfather,” he says. “I have been waiting for this moment. You are my successor.”
I stare at him, speechless.
He looks at his feet. “I doubt you know much about me, Edward. Your father, my grandson, and indeed my own son, were under the impression I was a mad man, a loner, a freak. This may have been true, but they did not know the truth. I was given a gift and a burden. I spent my days hunting zombies. It is your destiny too. Finding the photograph, the bike, awakening me to mentor you until you are ready was all destined to happen”
“A real life Buffy the Vampire,” I croak
Thomas looks confused, but I do not elaborate.
“We must get started,” he says. He walks over to my bike and points at it. “This will serve you well. It has hidden powers.”
I snort with laughter.
“What you don’t believe me?” growls Thomas, and I get the impression that if his cheeks could turn red with irritation, they would.
He walks over to the bike and taps it three times on the seat, his face distorted with concentration. To my amazement, the bike begins to change. The wheels grow spikes and two large wings begin to sprout from the handles.
“This can fly,” states Thomas. “If you are in danger and need to get off the ground you must do as I just did. Tap the seat three times, but mind, you must believe in what you are doing or nothing will happen. Once you have achieved that, ride the bike as normal. It will soon take off. The spikes detach when they sense you need help and wound the enemy. There are a constant supply. Once in the air you are invisible to the human eye, however not to animals.”
Thomas glances over at me. I stare back at him, open mouthed.
“You following me, lad?”
I nod, quickly. My mind is spinning, which I suppose is rather understandable, considering the circumstances.
Thomas smiles, which is strange. His face is so serious and old fashioned looking.
His smile seems unreal.
“I suppose you’re just getting used to this. When I found out about my destiny I dare say I was a little taken aback. But onwards and upwards. You should be proud.”
I mumble something like agreement, weakly.
“Now listen carefully. You must learn to look for the enemy. Zombies do not only wander the earth. Contrary to what you may have heard, many Zombies actually lie- in- wait, rather like a trap-door spider.”
I shiver. Ugh, spiders. Not a fan. Nope, not one little bit. I slap a curious and, what I hope looks like, an intelligent, open-minded expression on my face.
“You must learn to look for Strange Graves, lad.”
Strange Graves? Not a problem. Have that sorted in a moment.
“These graves look ordinary to the casual observer, but to you, and me, they glow.
Not always at first, but when you are near a Strange Grave, it will soon become apparent. Once
stirred and aware of your presence, some Zombies will rise up. Others will be more sneaky.”
My heart starts racing as I take in the information. How am I going to deal with this situation? It is like I am in a horror film, the kind I’m not allowed to watch. How will I keep this a secret? My friends, my mum…oh no…MY MUM!
“What’s the time?” I ask Thomas, desperately. “I’ve got to get home. It must be really late by now.”
Thomas looks at me as if I am mad, and I am beginning to feel like I am. He stares at me,
for what feels like ages and I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
“The time? Why time is irrelevant, boy! Whilst you are in another dimension, your world has stopped. Your mother is well; worry not and when you return, time will resume, and nobody will be aware of anything untoward.”
I sigh, relieved. Actually, this is rather cool.
“So I can move from one dimension to another, and when I return it will be as I left it?”
Thomas nods slowly, his eyes glinting. He looks up at the sky and scowls.
“The weather is changing. The wind…”
He looks at me darkly. I look back, suddenly concerned.
“So time stops if I, you know, travel,” I say, feeling rather silly, “but what about when I’m in my world?”
Thomas grins. “Many questions, eh? Well, that’s not surprising.” He leans forward slightly and I hear his back creak. “In your world, lad, time will stop whenever you’re involved with any Zombies. Was the same for me. My family thought I was odd like I said, but they never knew what was going on. Why would they? Look, say you’re on your way to school and you spot a Zombie or two. It’s quarter to nine and you’re running a bit late. No matter, lad! You hop off that bike, take ‘em out, and when you get back on the bike it’ll still be quarter to nine. Even if the fight took you an hour. You got enough time to get to school with a minute or two to spare, to comb your hair so you’re nice and smart for Lily Avers”
“Ok,” I say, “It’s all starting to make sense.” Then I look at Thomas, and begin to blush. “Hang on, how do you know about Lily?”
“I’m not your great-grandfather for nothing, Edward,” he chuckles. Then he pats me on the back. “Just be yourself, lad, just be yourself.”
“Can we go back now?” I say, feeling rather awkward.
“Ready to get started, eh? Good lad!”

We land with a bump. I open my eyes. We are in the Woods Graveyard, in colour, and the zombies are approaching…just as we left them. With some inner strength rushing through me I begin to fight them. I feel like I have been doing this for years. It comes easily to me. A kick, a punch and they disappear. If I aim for the legs they explode into green goo. If I aim for the head, they burst like crushed, purple grapes. Somehow I know where and when to attack them. I sense these zombies are quite low down on the danger level. They do not put up a good fight. Soon there are no more left. I stand quite still, my breaths slowing and then I laugh and laugh.
“Well done!”
I turn to see Thomas grinning wildly, which is embarrassing.
“See, lad, it came naturally didn’t it? We’ll soon sharpen those techniques and you’ll be on your way. They get tougher, mind. You got to be able to handle them all.”
Bring it on!
I look at my watch. Twenty to nine. “I should get going. When will I see you again?
Thomas shrugs. “It will all come together. Just carry on as normal.”
With that, he vanishes. I wander over to my bike, looking at it with new admiration. To think I was so negative about it! Yeah, Noah? Mine can fly! Then I snarl as I remember I can’t tell anyone.
I begin the journey home. I feel quite calm as I pedal fast, thinking to myself. I have always wanted something to happen! Well, Edward, something has well and truly happened. You are now a Zombie hunter, a teenage hero, a warrior. Someone who kicks ass. Oh yes! I stand and deliver. I defend and protect. I get the job done. I see dark, cold nights, gleaming swords and hidden worlds, the battles, the fires. I see myself rising up to the challenge of a lifetime. I see- THUD!

I stand up, and try to ignore the kids laughing at me. I can’t seem to cycle past that lamp post.