A PREVIEW OF THE UPCOMING TEX-MEXPLOITATION SUPERHERO STORY
by
BOWIE V. IBARRA
The following is an excerpt from the upcoming Tex-Mex superhero story, 'Tejano Star and the Vengeance of Chaplain Skull', coming fall 2013 from ZombieBloodFights.com, the leader in Tex-Mexploitation literature.
Check it out, and network with ZombieBloodFights.com for more information on 'Tejano Star' and other great titles from ZBF.com.
TEJANO STAR AND THE VENGEANCE OF CHAPLAIN SKULL
BY
BOWIE V. IBARRA
COPYRIGHT 201, 2013 BOWIE V. IBARRA
TEJANO STAR AND THE VENGEANCE OF CHAPLAIN SKULL
A ZombieBloodFights.com book
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are
the product of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events,
is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2011, 2013 Bowie V. Ibarra and
ZombieBloodFights.com. All Rights
Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of
the author and publisher.
For Amanda Conner and Jimmy Palmiotti
For south Texas
For all of my English teachers, from high school to college
For my hometown of Uvalde
And for anyone who has ever felt the magic of
reading comics
THE MADMAN ESCAPES
The blood that Dr. Duperee poured into his mouth
from the small gold chalice had a satisfyingly warm essence as it fell down his
throat. He expected the unique coppery
taste to be unpleasant, but it wasn’t.
He liked it, and he was thankful.
It was his own blood, after all,
harvested from his throat by the sinister minister standing before him. It made him happy that it wasn’t as
disgusting as he imagined.
“This is the cup of your
blood,” said the tall old man standing before the penitent Dr. Duperee in the
doctor’s own counseling office. “The
blood of my new and everlasting covenant.”
It was all a travesty, a true
blasphemous interpretation of the most Holy Catholic mass that would make Anton
LaVey blush.
“It shall be shared with you and
only you so that your sins shall be forgiven. Do this in memory of me.”
Dr. Duperee emptied the cup into
his mouth. A dark red moustache laced
his upper lip, like ketchup on the lips of a child left behind by a wayward
French fry. A small drop of blood fell
from his mouth, falling to his bare chest and drawing a dark red line down his
naked body.
Pulling out a syringe, the old man
removed the safety cap from the needle while pulling out another small bottle
from his other pocket. The bottle was
filled with a blue fluid that was sucked into the syringe after the old man
jabbed the needle into the lid. He
gently pumped the needle, just enough to shoot out a bit of liquid to assure
the syringe was ready. Then, the dark
priest continued his perverted mass.
Holding the syringe aloft, he said,
“This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his
supper.”
Dr. Duperee, pale from blood loss,
responded as if hypnotized, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, but only say
the word and I shall be healed.”
His hands held together in prayer,
he looked up at the old man, who gently pushed the needle into Duperee’s throat. The old priest gently pressed on the pump,
slowly injecting the blue fluid just above the now-covered puncture wound where
he had drawn blood earlier.
Dr. Duperee smiled in sweet
submission.
The counseling sessions with
the wicked cleric turned into philosophical discussions on religion.
The chaplain placed enough puzzle pieces
pronouncing his psychosis to perplex the doctor.
Then, into subtle skirmishes for control, the
priest used his superior intellect and diabolical charm to convince Dr. Duperee
of his iniquity.
Sordid stories of the
doctor’s early days in the Air Force were revealed.
Sexual romps, experiments with drugs, and
lies told to superiors were placed in the light.
The priest was now cleansing the doctor of
his own personal sin.
The same cleansing
that got the evil religious man, the Air Force chaplain, booked into the
military psychological ward just off the base.
With the syringe emptied into Dr.
Duperee’s bloodstream, the chaplain said, “The Lord be with you.”
“And also with you, Chaplain
Skull.”
Chaplain Skull, as he was known by
law enforcement officials, was really Chaplain Ken Driskoll of the United
States Air Force. He smiled, placing a
paternal hand on the face of the expiring Dr. Duperee.
“May almighty God bless you, the
Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” said Chaplain Skull, making the sign
of the cross over the doctor.
“Amen,” mumbled the doctor.
“Go in peace to love and serve the
Lord.”
“Thanks be to God,” whispered Dr.
Duperee before his naked body slumped to the floor.
The chaplain bowed his head in
prayer.
“Lord, forgive this man for his
sins. He has made the ultimate sacrifice
so that your ever-loving disciple might go back out into the world and cleanse
away the sins of those whose lives he can touch.”
He then made the sign of the cross,
saying, “Thanks be to God.”
It wasn’t long before Chaplain Driskoll picked Dr.
Duperee’s clothes up off the examination couch and put them on. He picked up the doctor’s car keys from the
desk, playfully tossing them in the air and catching them before putting them
in his pocket. He also took Duperee’s
wallet.
Ready to go, he walked to an emergency exit. He couldn’t go into the waiting room, as his
military escort was waiting just outside the door to the room.
The clothes he wore were a little
loose, but it didn’t matter. All that
did matter was that Driskoll had Duperee’s door pass card. He would need it to get out of the building
and out of the gates.
Driskoll patiently trotted down the
stairs without fear. He had devised the
plan, and planning prevented fear. It
was simple and foolproof.
He walked out the door at the
bottom, which was the emergency exit that took him out of the building. People were walking up and down the walkway
from the front gate to the building.
When he exited, no one took notice of him. He smiled.
Driskoll kept a low profile. When he thought about it, it was amazing how
oblivious people were to the world around them.
Whether talking on their cell phones or updating their WhatsUp profile,
no one was really paying attention to what was going on around him.
That’s why when he waved the
doctor’s pass at the electronic gate to unlock it, even the gate supervisor
ignored him. He was too absorbed in his
smart phone to pay attention to a person who had an actual swipe card. His mind was already conditioned to accept
that a person with a swipe card is not a danger.
So the chaplain casually walked
through the gate and out of the psychiatric facility. And though he knew that his image had been captured
on multiple cameras around the facility, he would be long gone before anyone
who might have been paying attention would see the discrepancy and do anything
about it.
Driskoll knew what car the doctor
drove from one of their earliest counseling sessions. Driskoll never judged Duperee for owning a
Volkswagon Cabrio, but the counselor intimated that some did. None of it mattered, though. It was all a way for Driskoll to get into
Duperee’s head.
The Cabrio bleep-bleeped itself
unlocked, also disarming its alarm, as Driskoll punched the keyless entry
button on the car key. He was able to
figure out the direction the bleep resounded from in the parking lot and found
the blue foreign car close by.
Entering the vehicle, he took in
its contents. Papers in the passenger
seat. An iPod plugged into the stereo
system. And an empty bottle of L’Amour
Whiskey.
“If I hadn’t saved you, doctor,”
whispered Driskoll, “your vice would have.”
Driskoll started the car and began
to drive out of the parking lot. As he passed
the final guarded gate, he could hear an alarm go off from the building. He smiled, assuming it was probably for
him.
The gate closed behind his car as
the facility immediately moved to lockdown.
The cars that were leaving the facility behind him were now stuck for a
few moments.
None of that mattered. Driskoll had escaped.
He smiled, but wasn’t
surprised. It was his plan, so it
had to work.
Following the plan, he drove to the
convenience store that was to be his first and only rendezvous point. At this store, he was to pick up his escape
vehicle. Considering the car he was
currently driving was stolen, the quicker he was to get out of the vehicle and
into another one, the better.
Pulling into the parking lot, he parked the car and
walked into the store. The key to his
true escape vehicle was to be placed by his associates in the restroom. But taking a quick inventory of the parking
lot, he noticed the escape vehicle he had designated was not there.
The chaplain shrugged. The minion assigned to drop off the vehicle
was late.
He grunted, walking into the store.
“Buenos dias,” said the
clerk behind the counter.
“Buenos dias,” replied the
chaplain, walking up one of the aisles.
The front window was wide open on
the parking lot. Driskoll could see all
the vehicles that were pulling up to the store.
Two small tables with chairs were lined up near the window, meant to be
places where people could eat from the small taco shop in the back of the
store. He took a seat.
A car pulled up. For a moment, Driskoll thought it might be
his contact. But a middle aged woman
stepped from the vehicle and walked into the store.
Driskoll watched her out of the
corner of his eye. She walked to the
back of the store and contemplated the beer selection in the coolers.
Looking back at the vehicle, he
noticed the vehicle was still spitting gray exhaust from the tailpipe. The car was still running.
It would be an easy move, but the
wrong one. Desperation. Considering the fact that he had arrived at
the location to ditch the stolen car from the doctor, stealing another car
would draw more attention to him.
So he watched the woman eventually
return to her car, a 12-pack of Bud Light under her arm, and drive off.
And he waited.
Another vehicle pulled up. It was not his contact.
Yet another. Once again, not his contact.
What happened? he
wondered. It clearly had nothing to do
with his planning. His plan was
foolproof. The contact, he
thought to himself. Something
happened to the contact.
Then he watched a Del Rio Police
car drive by. A bolt of nerves racked
his body with fear.
The car passed.
Driskoll sighed in relief.
He waited again.
Another car pulled up. Then another.
Neither were his contact.
And then his plan began to fall
apart.
Two Del Rio Police cars pulled into
the parking lot, driving straight toward the doctor’s stolen car.
Driskoll had to make a move.
Rising from the table, he crossed
to a small back hallway. In the hallway
were two bathrooms and another door labeled ‘Do Not Enter’. Driskoll pushed open this last door and
walked into the back room. It was the
door that led into the cooler, where the beers and other cold-drink items were
stored. Puffs of condensation left his
mouth as his warm breath met with the cold air.
Through the glass of the cooler
doors, he could see the police walking into the store. He had to make a move, or risk being caught.
He looked around the chilly
room. Stacks of cases of beer lined the
walls and congested the space. A ladder
led to the roof. But that would be too
dangerous if there was no way down.
Then he saw a door. Driskoll moved through the cold air and moved
the cases of beer that stood before it.
He pushed the door open, trying to move out quickly. A stream of light flooded the room as he
exited, closing the door behind him.
Loud cheers and the sounds of a
High School band could be heard just a few blocks away. People were walking to the nearby stadium for
the Friday night High School football match-up.
It did not take Driskoll long to walk the distance to the stadium road
and join the people. When he reached
them, he casually merged with them. He
walked with the neighborhood fans to the stadium.
Looking back at the convenience
store, he could see several police officers standing around the Cabrio. One was even walking around the
building. Again, Driskoll had just
missed being captured.
The fans walking all around him
were completely oblivious to who he was.
He loved that feeling of anonymity.
It’s what always helped him find his victims, even when he joined the
military. He could silently judge every
one of them, visualizing his unholy mass and thinking of the many ways he could
cleanse them of their sins.
Then, someone pointed at the
sky. “Look!” they cried out. “It’s Tejano Star.”
Everyone turned to look up at the
sky. They pointed and smiled, cheering
at the superhero flying through the sky.
Chaplain Driskoll looked up,
too. He saw him, and it was him. The very same
superhero that was responsible for putting him in the institution. The very same one he knew had been summoned
to find him.
“Tejano Star,” Driskoll growled,
sighing. He knew it was only a matter of
time now before the Tejano music frontman and south Texas superhero would be on
his trail. But he moved forward with the
only move he could make at the moment: mixing himself in with the fans of the
Del Rio Rhinos.
Chaplain Driskoll stayed in line,
camouflaged among the people, remaining anonymous apart from a gentle smile
every now and then with people who happened to make eye contact with him.
He took in the people all around
him, judging them.
An adolescent child cussed.
A man on a cell phone lied to his
wife.
Two people spoke in anger at each
other.
I wish I could save all of you,
he thought as he walked to pay for his ticket. He received the senior discount. He took his ticket and walked into the
stadium.
It was perfect. The crowd was large, as per all south Texas
football games. The arena was old, but
hallowed ground. The scent of old soda
and stale popcorn danced across his nose.
The static grumbling of hundreds of football fans assaulted his senses
as he walked to the aluminum bleachers.
The crowd jumped to their feet as the Rhinos completed a pass against
the San Uvalde Marauders.
As Driskoll moved up the steps of
the bleachers to his seat, the band started playing a drum chant. The primal origins of the music were long
lost on the fans as it beat an ominous tone, a war song for the young
gladiators on the field of green laced with white lines. The gridiron.
He found his seat, looking into the sky with cruel anxiety.
He watched a series of the Rhinos
on offense, his eyes dancing among the crowd.
His hands shook. He wished with
such intense emotion that he could save them all.
Looking to the sky, Driskoll saw
nothing suspicious.
The Rhinos took it to their rivals,
the San Uvalde Marauders, on defense, smashing them with cruel tackles. Before long, the Marauders were punting,
giving Driskoll an opportunity to look to the sky again.
Nothing in the air.
As the Rhinos took control of the
ball again, a hand touched Driskoll on the shoulder. It startled him. But when he looked up at the owner of the
hand, it didn’t surprise him.
Driskoll sighed. “Hello again, Tejano Star.”
“Hello, Chaplain Skull.”
Driskoll smiled, taking a deep
breath. There was nothing he could do
now. Tejano Star was too powerful. He did have one option, though.
“Please,” said the chaplain,
scooting over in the bleachers. “Have a
seat.”
“I’d be happy to,” said Tejano
Star, “if you could first place the syringe you still have from the doctor’s
office on the ground.”
Driskoll smiled. Checkmate.
The chaplain pulled the syringe
from his pocket. He dropped it on the
aluminum bleacher. Tejano Star stepped
into the aisle, crunching the glass syringe under his boot. He sat down.
“How are the Rhinos doing?” asked
Tejano Star.
“Hard hitting as usual,” said the
chaplain, looking back out at the game.
“The Marauders are keeping it competitive.” The chaplain paused, watching the game before
asking, “How did you find me, Tejano Star?”
“Well, it seems the driver of your
rendezvous vehicle has bad driving habits.”
Chaplain Driskoll sighed, nodding.
Tejano Star continued. “He was pulled over running a red light. He then proceeded to spill the beans.”
Driskoll grunted, then said, “The
only weak link to my perfect plan.” Then
he looked at Tejano Star. “But how did you
find me here, in this crowd so fast?”
“They’ve had a tracking device put
inside you since I first put you in the institution.”
“You know good and well no one can inject me with
anything,” said the chaplain, pinching his impenetrable super skin.
“That’s true,” said Tejano
Star. “But you have to eat, don’t you?”
Chaplain Driskoll sighed. Then a familiar line crossed his mind. “Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or whatsoever else you do,
do all to the glory of God,” he said. “1
Corinthians 10:31.”
The crowd cheered for another great play by the Del Rio
Rhinos.
“And that’s why I’m here, Chaplain Skull,” said Tejano
Star. “I am doing this for the glory of
God.”
“Don’t lie to the Lord, Tejano Star,” said Chaplain
Skull. “Are you doing it for his
glory? Or are you doing it for your
glory? Your own vanity?”
“I’m doing it for all these people here, Chaplain Skull,”
he said, indicating the crowd. “I’m
doing it to protect them. By doing that,
I am serving God.”
“But what do you do to cleanse them of their sins?” he
asked. “What are you doing to save them
for our Lord’s Second Coming? None of
them will be saved when He arrives again.”
“That’s not for you to judge, Chaplain Skull,” said
Tejano Star.
“Oh, but it is,” he replied. “For if I don’t, then they will never know
the glory of the Kingdom of God,” he said, imitating Tejano Star’s indication
of the crowd. “Dr. Duperee will know it
now. As well as all those that I
cleansed before him.”
“What you are doing is murder, Chaplain Skull,” said
Tejano Star. His dark moustache quivered
with frustration. “You paint your
picture of salvation with the blood of the innocent.”
“And you, Tejano Star, paint your picture of justice with
the blood of the guilty. How are
you different than me? We are two sides
of the same coin. You save people who
would do harm to others. I save people
who would do harm to themselves.”
The crowd collectively groaned at a failed play by their
hometown team.
Tejano Star felt himself falling into Chaplain Skull’s
web of words. This conversation needed
to end before Skull worked his cruel influence over him.
“You know what we have to do now, don’t you?” asked
Tejano Star.
“I know,” said Chaplain Skull, looking back at the
game. “You have to return me to prison.”
Tejano Star nodded.
“That’s correct,” he said, pulling out a pair of handcuffs.
“One day, Tejano Star, you will need me,” whispered
Chaplain Skull, putting his hands behind his back. “One day, all these people you work so hard
to protect will need more than your power can provide them. One day, they will need us.”
Tejano Star secured the bonds on Chaplain Skull as the
crowd cheered for another great play.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we get there, Chaplain Skull.”
Chaplain Skull smiled, nodding, looking over the sea of
people once again. People, he knew, who
would one day need to be saved.
THE NEXT DAY, AT A SPECIAL GATHERING AT BAUER AIR FORCE
BASE
“And
it’s with pride, Bauer Air Force Base will continue to provide protection and
security not only for our nation, but for the city of Del Rio, Texas.”
General
Clayton Michaels was greeted with friendly applause by the audience of locals,
military brass, and an entire junior high school. It was a special occasion for many reasons,
as the general was stating.
Sitting
behind the general was Tejano Star, sitting with his manager, Lane.
Tejano
leaned over to Lane.
“So, did we
book that San Uvalde show?”
“Of course,”
said Lane, absorbed in the general’s speech, “We set up next Friday at 5pm.”
“Are we set
up for the show tonight?”
Lane was
still trying to concentrate on the speech.
“Give me a second, Tejano Star,” he said, “I want to hear what the
general has to say about the Gonzalez Tower.”
Tejano Star
just nodded, shrugging.
The general
continued. “The US government has
provided a grant to our modest facility for $500 million to continue the
research of Professor Richard Gonzalez.
As many of you know, Del Rio native Richard Gonzalez is at the forefront
of energy technologies. He was the first
to successfully utilize sound waves as a source of power. Like water-powered hydro-electric devices,
the Gonzalez Tower can provide power by utilizing the potential energy of sound
waves.”
General
Michaels pointed to his left at a building that was just yards away from the
presentation. On top of the building
stood a large metal tower. It was
reminiscent of an old oil derrick like the ones that used to line fields in
Houston. But the electric panels lined
symmetrically near the top of the tower indicated its technological purpose.
The crowd
turned and looked at the new piece of technology. Then, the crowd of teachers and students
clapped for the news.
The general
smiled and nodded. Then, he continued.
“With the
Gonzalez Tower, Bauer Air Force Base will be able to provide its own energy for
most of the electronic devices in the first month. As it builds up and stores power, it will
eventually be able to power all of the facility, much like a wireless charger
recharges cell phones or electronic notebooks.
Before long, we believe this tower will store enough energy to provide
electricity to the entire town.”
Cries of
amazement emanated from the crowd as everyone once again clapped with joy.
“If this
experiment with Gonzalez Tower goes as predicted, we will be working with the
local power companies to begin production of these towers for distribution
around the state, then the nation, and, ultimately, the world. Del Rio will be at the forefront of this new
technology, and our entire community will benefit greatly from its
distribution.”
Yet another
round of applause broke out, with the general nodding modestly.
Lane turned to Tejano Star. “Do you know what this could mean? This could be the biggest power revolution
since the Tesla Tower. Free energy,
Tejano Star. Free energy for the entire
world.”
“Tesla Tower?” asked Tejano
Star. “What was that?”
“Nikola Tesla allegedly created a
tower that had the capacity to send electrical power wirelessly to any point in
the world. I imagine some of those same
concepts are at work here. But sound
waves as a source of power? That’s new.”
Tejano Star just nodded.
When the applause died down again,
the general spoke.
“We also
have another bit of news to bring to you today.
Yesterday, as you might know from local news reports, the sinister
Chaplain Skull had escaped from his appointment at the psychological offices of
Bauer Air Force Base. He almost escaped,
but for the help from a local hero.
Without further ado, I’d like for the hero to step forward and say a few
words.”
The general
turned, looking at the superhero.
“Ladies and
gentlemen, please welcome a true hero to this community, Tejano Star.”
The crowd
broke out in applause, whistles, and cheers as Tejano Star walked to the
podium. He greeted the general with a
handshake, then took to the podium, waving to the people.
“Buenos
dias, everybody,” said Tejano Star, “It’s great to see so many of you out
here today. And I hope to see all that
are old enough in attendance at the Del Rio Ballroom later tonight.” The crowd chuckled as Tejano Star finished
his shill. “Doors open at 8,” he said,
smiling. “Ladies get in free before
9. Cover is ten bucks.”
The crowd laughter
died down as Tejano Star took a moment to pause. It was a manufactured beat that made the
crowd tune back in to him.
“But
seriously, amigos. You can rest
at ease tonight, knowing that I have once again put Chaplain Skull behind
bars. But I want you to know that I
could not have done what I was able to do without the help of the real
heroes. The heroes of the Del Rio Police
Department, who helped track Chaplain Driskoll’s potential location, giving me
valuable information for me to close in on him.
Let’s give them a big hand.”
The crowd applauded once
again. Members of law enforcement in the
crowd nodded and waved modestly.
Then, Tejano Star paused to
transition once again.
“As you know, this city is my
hometown, too. I grew up here. I got my high school education here before
getting a college degree at San Uvalde Junior College. And when I went off to San Antonio to follow
my dream of being a singer, I never thought I would ever have these powers that
I have now.”
The crowd
clapped in appreciation for Tejano Star, who nodded and waved back at the
crowd.
“I just
want all of you to know here today, family, friends, law enforcement officials,
fans, and all our military heroes, that I will always do everything that I can
for you and our community. Para
siempre, mi pueblo. Thank you.”
The crowd
cheered as Tejano Star walked back to his seat.
Lane was standing, clapping for his charge.
“Good
speech,” he said. “Well done.”
“Well, it’s
from the heart,” he said, “And maybe it will get a few more people through the
doors tonight.”
“Always
hustling,” said Lane, “Qué cabrón.”
“Hey, when
you’re a Tejano singing sensation like myself, what’s wrong with using my
superpowers to bring in a few more people to the shows?”
“You can be so conceited sometimes,
it’s funny.”
“Hey. This superhero’s still gotta eat, now. I can’t always eat tacos from the street
vendor, now, can I?”
Lane just
nodded, chuckling. “Fair enough.”
In his
customized and exclusive prison cell, Chaplain Driskoll watched the speech on
his own flat screen TV just outside of his cell. He glared at the screen.
THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY, AT THE SAN UVALDE CIVIC CENTER
“How is
everybody doing tonight?”
The wild
and wooly crowd of San Uvalde citizens cheered with delight. The Tejano Star concert was just as fun as
everyone expected, even to the superhero himself. He finished one of the songs off the new
album when he started talking to the crowd.
“I’m Tejano
Star and these are the Caballeros,” he said, turning and indicating his band
members. “And we’re so glad to be back
here in San Uvalde, Texas!”
The crowd
was spurred on to cheer by the remark.
Appealing to civic pride was always an easy way to get the crowd to
respond.
Using the
town high school mascot was another easy way to get a response.
“How many
San Uvalde Mauraders we have in the crowd tonight?”
The
response was even bigger. San Uvalde
loved their high school sports teams.
And even though the Del Rio Rhinos beat the Mauraders two weeks ago, he
wasn’t going to say anything.
“What I
want to do here, compadres, is take a few minutes and do a
giveaway. What I have here is a signed
CD of our latest album, “El Fuego del Amor”, signed by me and all of the
boys in the band.”
As Tejano
Star continued, a scuffle broke out in the back of the Civic Center.
“So what
I’m going to do is this: Everybody left
a ticket with their names on it as you came into the show tonight.”
Then, a
scream emanated from the back, near the scuffle. As security rushed to the scene, Tejano Star
spoke.
“Hey,
hey. C’mon, compadres, let’s get
along here. We’re all here to have some
fun, right everybody?”
The crowd
cheered, but not as loud as before. Many
people had rushed to the site of the scuffle to take a look for themselves at
what went down. It looked like the
security team had taken care of the fighters.
Since most
of the attention was on security, Tejano Star decided to acknowledge the fight
and bring the crowd back to him. “Hey, un
aplauso por los hermanos allá working security. Let’s give them a big hand.”
The crowd
followed along, cheering modestly yet again.
“Alright, compadres,
lets get back to this drawing and see who’s going to get this regalo
tonight.”
Tejano Star
reached into a jar and pulled out a ticket.
He held it up to read it.
“Stephanie
Reyes. Stephanie Reyes?”
A woman
near the middle of the dance floor cheered, running up to the stage. “Me!
Me!” she shouted. The band
couldn’t take their eyes off of her. She
wore a low-cut blouse that flowed gently as she moved to the stage. She wore stylish patent leather black heels
and a short dress. She had a fair
complexion, but her strong facial features pointed to Hispanic origin.
“C’mon up
here, chula,” said Tejano Star, pulling her up on the stage from the
stairs. She jumped up at Tejano Star and
kissed his sweaty cheek. She jumped
back, smiling, shocked with a charge from his extra-terrestrial power that
passed through her body. Some people in
the crowd saw her response and the brief blue spark that passed from his cheek
to her lips and chuckled.
“What’s
your name, chula?” asked Tejano Star, putting the microphone in front of
her red lips.
“Stephanie,”
she said, giggling with glee and waving at her friends.
“Let’s give
Stephanie a hand, folks,” he said, adding, “Masota la rabbit.”
The
crowd cheered, and some guys whistled as well.
“Stephanie,
here’s a copy of the new CD. Thanks for
coming out tonight.”
Another
shriek came from the crowd in the back again.
Stephanie and Tejano Star looked back again and saw another scuffle
break out.
“Ay, mi
raza,” groaned Tejano Star. “C’mon, compadres,
can we not have a show where we don’t get in a fight?”
As Tejano
Star looked back to see security taking control again, Stephanie said, “The
last fight one of the guys bit the other guy in the face.”
“What?”
said Tejano Star, smiling in disbelief.
“Seriously,”
she said. “He was crazy.”
“Wow,” said
Tejano Star, thinking that maybe getting the dance floor hopping again would be
a good solution to the chaos.
“Thank you,
Stephanie. Un aplauso for Julie, compadres,”
said Tejano Star as Julie walked away.
“We’re going to go ahead and keep the party going here, amigos,
with our next song. Hit it, Caballeros.”
The
accordion, played by Tejano Star himself, blazed to life, followed by the bass
guitar player lighting up his instrument, the drummer starting in, and then the
keyboard player starting up. Before
long, Tejano Star was singing the first verse to one of the new songs off the
new album. The fun-loving vibes of pure
Tejano music were dancing through the room.
But the
discord of the strange scuffles in the back of the San Uvalde Civic Center was
taking the fun out of the evening yet again.
Amid the dancing masses, another fracas was breaking out. This time, taking the pep out of the step of
the people enjoying a good cumbia.
What was once a scuffle turned into a brawl, clearing people off of the
dance floor.
For any
musical band, that’s a very bad sign.
“Hey,”
shouted Tejano Star, a bit frustrated, stopping his band and looking in the
direction of the fights. “What’s going
on here?”
Through the
crowd and haze, Tejano Star could see two figures gouging and biting
people. On the floor around them lay
three other people, wounded and bleeding on the floor. A figure seemed to be feeding off of one
body. Several people were fighting with
others. Security had taken control of
two people, but were now outnumbered. A
small crowd had gathered around the skirmish, but many were fleeing the
building.
“Time to go
to work,” whispered Tejano Star, pulling the extra-terrestrial necklace from
around his neck and cupping it in his hands.
“Estrella de la noche,” he
said, “ ¡Dáme el poder!” he shouted,
calling for power from the extra-terrestrial object.
A bright flash consumed Tejano
Star, and before long he was transformed into the south Texas superhero. The flash wasn’t bright for long, and there
on the stage stood Tejano Star. Brown
ropers wrapped his feet, covered by the faded pant legs of Wrangler blue
jeans. The large gold belt buckle had a
carved star in the middle. ‘Tejano’ was
carved over the top of the star. ‘Star’
was carved below it. The cut-outs on
either side of the star were the shapes of the state of Texas and the country
of Mexico. He wore a well-shaped straw
Stetson hat, and a red mask made from a bandana that wrapped around his head.
His shirt was a long-sleeve
button-up with the sleeves cut off. The
front and back of his shirt matched, with a blue field and a white lone star on
the upper portion. Two large vertical
stripes fell to his beltline, one red, the other white. The Texas flag.
“Get ‘em, Tejano Star!” shouted
members of his band.
Tejano Star flew by one of the
speakers and took a long stretch of technical cord that was not being
used. He then flew to the fracas, over
the heads of the crowd.
“Look!” shouted some of the
people. “It’s Tejano Star!”
Landing near the fights, he took in
more of what was happening. One person
was assaulting another on the ground, who was dripping in blood. That same blood was falling from the mouth of
the attacker. Some people were mixing it
up, throwing sloppy punches at each other.
Others were taking pictures and video on their phones.
Zombies? thought Tejano
Star.
Tejano Star pulled the attacking
ghoul off of the woman on the ground and wrapped the cord tight around the
living dead man. He then yanked another
that was fighting with the people, and tied him to the first one. He did it again, and again, and one last
time. When it was over, and it ended
within a minute, Tejano Star had subdued five of the strange zombie-like people
and hung them on the wall. They snarled
and growled in aggressive anger.
The crowd cheered, but the mystery
of the cannibalistic patrons was too dangerous to have the people stick around.
“I’m so sorry, folks,” said Tejano
Star. “But due to what appears to be a…
I never thought I’d ever say this… due to a zombie problem at the show tonight,
I have to cancel tonight’s show. All
your tickets will be refunded if you contact tejanostar.com.”
Members of the crowd groaned
loudly, and there were even some boos that made Tejano Star feel bad. But most of the crowd had sense enough to
leave. People walked out, texting the
events on their phones and updating their WhatsUp profile.
The strange creatures, tied up and
hanging on the wall, drooled blood and saliva at Tejano Star.
“Tejano Star!” shouted a
woman. “That’s my brother up there. You have to let him down.”
Tejano Star ignored the question
and asked, “Ma’am, did you see what happened?”
“I don’t know. Jimmy, that’s my brother, he got sick this
morning. I don’t know what it is, but he
was sick all day.”
“I think your brother caught
something very dangerous ma’am. He needs
to get to a hospital.”
At that moment, Lane arrived. He overheard the discussion and stated, “The
police is already on the way and so is an ambulance.”
“What’s your name, chula?”
“Mandy.”
“Mandy, stay here. The police are on the way.”
“But what about my brother?”
Tejano Star looked up at the
captured people. Their clothes suggested
that they had gotten ready and come to the event completely healthy. Or at least not affected by whatever they
caught.
Looking back at Mandy, Tejano Star
said, “Just stay with him. Everything
will be alright.”
But he wasn’t sure of that.
Tejano Star and Lane walked back to
the band, who were already putting their equipment away.
“What the hell are we going to do
here, Tejano Star?”
“I’ll take care of the PR, but as
for the rest, I don’t know,” said Tejano Star.
“Let’s get this stuff all packed up and head back to the trailer. Get the guys on the bus. We’ll watch the news in the trailer.
“Then what?” asked Lane.
“If this is what I think it is, and
I can’t believe I’m even considering it,” said Tejano Star, “then we’re in deep
trouble.”
Read the rest of the action-packed story today in
paperback or
Kindle. Network with author Bowie Ibarra for updates on its release at his official website,
ZombieBloodFights.com.
BOWIE VALERIANO IBARRA is the author of the 'Down the Road' zombie horror series from Permuted Press and Simon and Schuester. His latest zombie story,
The Fall of Austin, tells the story of military, police, convicts, and citizens of the Texas capitol as they deal with the zpoc.
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You can network with Bowie and read about his Tex-Mexploitation stories at his personal website,
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