Concerning What Happened Next

  The moon was a magnolia, petals reaching ever so slightly to the broken heart of the earth. The air was still heavy and ponderous, but Hoell could see neon lights hazing a skyline in the distance, swirling inward from the darkness toward 42nd. Points of light moved and blinked like xylophone notes, sounds never reaching the field. Somewhere out there blood rushed through the veins of the night.
  Hoell rubbed his face thoughtfully, fished a rugged cigarette from a pocket and lit it from the shadows of the Stetson. Threw the match carelessly, and exhaled to the sky.
  He heard the click and threw himself to the left before he even saw the switchblade fly. He came up in time to grab an arm as the knife dipped again, thrust it back toward the trailer. Pale African face, hair like a drowned pirate, the smell of the riverfront. It pushed Hoell away, whipped the knife in a slash waist high. "Give us, jazz man," it said tonelessly. The blade winked in the moonlight as the creature lunged. Hoell sidestepped, swung clasped hands in an uppercut that sent his assailant staggering back.
  Hoell backed up to a booth and pulled the ancient revolver from his coat, leveled it in time for the other to jump forward with a slash that grazed his hand, dropping the gun. The switchblade came up, plunged down. Hoell grabbed the knife arm with one hand, swung his right underneath into the ribs, two quick punches. He grabbed the thing by its decaying jacked and tossed it head first into the side of the booth. Wood cracked, a tangle of spindly legs and arms tried to right itself. Hoell didn't see his pistol, ran deeper into the Midway.
  Dodging a labyrinth of carousels, galleries, metal fences and attractions. He could hear his pursuer still, emotionless as a predator, but he had bought a few seconds time. He stopped short before the corrugated steps of another attraction, dramatically heralded the Deadly Jungle Python, Guaranteed The Largest Snake Ever Seen. Behind him was the Strong Man Tester. Hoell grabbed the hammer and ran up the steps.
  The tent was pitch dark, stank of bedding, sour water and reptile. Lexan walls waist high formed a walkway, separating unseen things making only whispered suggestion of movement, cold and alien presence. Hoell crept along to the main attraction, a pit sunken into the floor. He could barely see shape, just a dark draconian mass encompassing a small pool. It moved slightly, guttural scratch on gravel. It could smell him. He crouched in the darkness opposite, and waited.
  Footfalls, soft and steady, slithering along the walkway. Worn boots moved in front of his hiding place. Hoell tried not to betray a breath, could smell the decay of the waterfront even with the overbearing smell of reptile. He waited, let it move a few steps more. Suddenly Hoell leapt up, swung the wooden mallet with all his strength and a bestial war cry.
  The mallet struck square in the back, lateral force sending the creature over the lexan wall into the pool with a grotesque splash. In a second the snake had struck, coiling itself around in three quick circles. The zombie began the most unworldly keening, thrashing with the constrictor in the stagnant water of the pool. Hoell threw the mallet after him and fled.