Cavern of the Blood Zombies (2011) by Lei Xu Page A

moving at all, don’t ask questions—just shoot it,” said Uncle Three as he stared into the darkness.
    At this moment, we went around a bend in the river that took us past a large pile of skulls and bones. Big Kui screamed with fear and fell on the deck of the boat. The rest of us saw a woman with her back turned toward us, long black hair falling past her waist. Her clothing was made of white feathers and the adornment on her outfit I was sure dated back to the Western Zhou dynasty.
    I swallowed hard and said, “Here’s our missing corpse.”
    “Stop—stop!” Uncle Three wiped a large film of sweat from his forehead. “Big Kui, take the oldest donkey hoof we have out of the bag—the black one that we brought to ward away zombies and vampires. This is the most amazing zombie I’ve ever seen and probably that anyone has encountered over the past thousand years. We need our oldest donkey hoof to jam into her mouth and take away her powers if we’re going to protect ourselves.”
    No reply came from Big Kui so my uncle shouted his name again. As we looked for him, we found him lying at our feet, twitching convulsively and foaming at the mouth.
    “Panzi, bring me the hoof. Fuck me, if I ever bring that fat idiot with me again, I deserve to have a zombie eat me alive.” Uncle Three grabbed the black donkey hoof from Panzi’s hands and spat on it, saying, “Take a good look at my skills, nephew. This is a once-in-a-lifetime feat. If I don’t succeed, then fire a shot toward the sky for me, so I’ll die without remorse.”
    I pulled him back. “Are you sure you can do this?”
    Truthfully, I wasn’t very frightened. After all, this was a new situation for me and if I gave it any thought, the sight of a woman dressed in mournful white was more melancholy than terrifying. On the other hand, in horror movies when a long-haired woman in white turns and shows her face, this is never a good thing.
    Poker-face drew closer and put his hand on Uncle Three’s shoulder. “Black donkey hooves are used for conquering zombies, true—but I’m sure this thing isn’t a zombie so your hoof will be useless. Let me handle this.” From his bag he took out a long object which I immediately recognized as the antique weapon he had bought from Uncle Three. He opened the cloth scabbard, and inside was an ancient black sword that looked as though it were made of black iron.
    Taking out the sword, he drew it across the back of his hand, then stood at the bow of our boat and let his blood drip into the river. When the first droplets hit the surface of the water, all of the corpse-eating bugs crawled out of the bodies as though they had seen a ghost. In a maddened frenzy, they scurried away from our boat. In a second, all the corpse-eaters were gone, leaving not even a shadow behind.
    Soon the flow of blood completely covered Poker-face’s entire hand, which he pointed toward the woman in white. As we watched in awe, our faces frozen and blank with shock, she knelt before us. “Go—get us out of here—and whatever you do,” Poker-face muttered, “don’t look back.”
    Of course I wanted to see the woman’s face but dared not risk it after Poker-face’s command—what would happen to me if I looked at a mummified countenance? Uncle Three and Panzi rowed our boat with a speed born of terror and desperation. Finally we saw an opening in the cave that looked as though it was the one we had entered earlier.
    As we entered the robbers’ tunnel, I realized that although I had been forbidden to look back, certainly it would be all right to see what might be behind us from its reflection in the water? I looked and immediately lost my breath. What I saw was the reflection of something clinging to my back. I couldn’t help it—I began to turn so I could see what was on my body when something struck the back of my head and I was engulfed in blackness.

Chapter Seven
HUNDREDS OF HEADS
    In a haze, I saw the woman in a white dress with her