The Human Race (Book 3): The Main Event

by Fritz, Tahnee

  I take a quick look around me. More zombies are piling into the parking lot. Guns are being fired from a few of Trevor’s men, but none of them have an aim good enough to hit them in the head on the first shot. A nearly rotten one hits the grass as a bullet shoots through what is left of his stomach. Another bullet sprays his brains through the air and he smashes his face on the curb.

  A shrill scream enters the air behind me and I quickly spin around. A male zombie has a young woman pinned against a tree. All she has is a long stick to protect herself with and that is less than useless in a situation such as this one. I dash across the lot, clearing the distance in just a few seconds. I charge at the zombie right as he grabs onto the stick and I tackle him to the ground. The woman screams once more then makes a mad dash out of this hell hole.

  I pin this zombie to the ground and stare at the glossy black orbs against his pale face. His teeth are green and rotten, matching the yellow color under his fingernails. His skin is scabbed over and stinks of decay, but I still find myself grabbing his wrist and biting into it until I can taste the cold liquid that is his blood.

  The seconds tick by and I let the dead zombie’s arm slip from my hand and land on his stomach. Two more of them come stalking close to me, giving me no time of day. I reach for the ankle of the one closest to me and he trips over his feet crashing to the ground in front of him. The other zombie takes a bullet to the back of her head, while I dig my teeth into the flesh of the boy. He wriggles and squirms against my grip, but soon succumbs to my cure working it’s magic.

  A gunshot echoes around me and I feel a slight pinch in the back of my right leg. I release my grip on the zombie and wipe it’s blood from my chin and mouth. Slowly, I pull myself to my feet and spin around facing the man with the Mohawk. Smoke is pouring from the barrel of his handgun and he wears a smile as though he is pleased with himself.

  “I am very sorry,” he states with much sarcasm to his voice, “you sort of blend in with these bastards so you can understand my confusion.”

  His aim with the gun is still at me and I can sense that he wants to pull that trigger one more time. I wipe more of the oozing blood from my mouth and take a deep breath, filling my nose with his scent. He raises the gun, aiming more for my head and just before he pulls the trigger, I leap through the air and land on the pavement behind him. I latch my grip onto the back of his denim jacket and throw him to the ground at my feet.

  The gun flies from his grip, landing out of his reach and the wind gets knocked out of him. He coughs and gasps for air while turning onto his side to breathe more easily. With my left foot, I slam it against his stomach, pushing him onto his back where he belongs. I kneel down beside him and grab the collar of his jacket pulling his face closer to mine. His struggled breath is hot against my cheeks.

  “You must forgive me, but you blend in with all of the other pathetic humans running around here.” I whisper in his ear.

  I bring my lips to his throat and sink my teeth into the warm flesh that has been taunting me for what feels like years since I became this way. I can feel his screams escaping his body as his blood oozes out of him and fulfills the hunger I have for humans. Words cannot explain the smoothness of his blood as it flows down my throat. The warm texture and the sweetness of his flesh is more succulent than I have ever dreamed it would be.

  I rip away a chunk of flesh from his neck and his screaming grows muffled and faint. The weight of his head is increasing, but I hold him still. His arms have stopped flailing and he no longer tries fighting me off. I bite through the muscles and veins of his neck and let the sweetest taste in the world drift down my throat.

  The minutes tick by and I finally let the Mohawk’s head hit the ground when I release my grip. I stare at his lifeless form for another moment, watching the blood seeping from the wound on his neck. It is a gory scene, but I cannot keep the smile from my face. I can’t shake the feeling of relief from my body. I finally had the privilege of tasting something that felt so forbidden to me. Those zombies and vampires had it all figured out right from the very beginning. Why chase after something dead when the blood and flesh of the living is much more rewarding.

  The dead man on the ground before me never moves again, proving to the world that what flows through my veins will have no effect on human beings. They will not change into what I am nor will they suffer through life as a member of the undead. They will simply be dead and nothing more.

  I get back to my feet and take a look around. The panic has died down and the gunshots have come to an end. People are no longer running in terror and I stare at the many zombies who have perished at the hands of Trevor’s army. The three that I bit into aren’t even a handful in the small mass that came after the food source in this community.

  Footsteps approach me from behind and I slowly turn around. Trevor stands on the grass by the parking lot, a gun hanging from his grip and blood stains on his coat. The blood doesn’t belong to him, but it still looks appetizing. The few men and women that have crowded around him stare at me with fear in their eyes and guns raised at my head and heart.

  Trevor steps onto the pavement and nods to the bloody mess on my face. I wipe my chin with the back of my hand, not bothering to get every ounce of the crimson juiciness.

  “Do I need to worry about you, Bridget?” he questions.

  I step closer to him and hear the familiar sounds of guns cocking all around me, “You should always be worried about me.”

  He raises an eyebrow and says, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Only what your mind wants you to believe.” I grin.

  He raises a gun and shouts, “Quit playing this damn game and promise me this will never happen again!”

  I tilt my head to the side and allow my eyes to pass right through him. I can swear to him a million times that I will never touch the blood of another human being. It will be a massive lie, but a lie is what he wants to hear.

  Finally, I smile and say convincingly, “It won’t happen again.”

  “Good.” He says, then lowers the gun, “Get back to the school so my men can clean up your mess.”

  Trevor turns his back on me and the wind brings his scent to my nose. I take a deep inhale and allow his sweet flavor to drift up my nostrils. Even with the guns aimed for my head and chest, I still want that blood beneath his skin to caress my tongue in a way that will ignite every sense in my body and bring an end to the revenge that I crave.

  * * *

  I stroll through the halls of the school with my head held high as some human blood remains on my chin and neck. I knew from the moment that liquid caressed my tongue that no other taste on the planet would ever measure up. It was like a forbidden fruit and I was lucky enough to steal some of its sweet nectar. My mind has been in this euphoric state and not even the eyes of the people around me can snap me out of it. In fact, they are making the feeling spread throughout my body.

  I stare at the frightened people scattered around the building as I head for my room. All of them are panicking and fearful for their lives. Not only from the threat that just raided their precious town, but for the beast that now roams the halls in the very building they are meant to feel safe in. Their terrified glances cannot keep the smile from my face.

  Some of these people move quickly, with guns in their hands as they head for the crowd outside to help maintain order. They keep their distance from me, pressing their bodies against the wall so they do not come within arm’s reach. I think it is quite humorous how these people are so afraid of me, yet they know nothing about me at all.

  I spot a small group of them, young and crying, crouching in the corner just before I turn down another hallway. Five of them are hovering together, too afraid to look up. One of them does and his eyes meet with mine. I lick my lips, tasting the blood still lingering on my skin, and pass him a devilish grin. He whimpers and wraps his arms around his friends even tighter. Tears are flowing from his eyes as he buries his face with the group and
I keep walking.

  I make it to my room and push the door open. I step inside and close it quickly. The candles are lit on the desk, but they are steadily getting shorter the longer they burn. They will soon be nothing more than a puddle of wax and a black dot where the wick once burned. I turn my head to my bed and spot the figure sitting upon it. His hair is a mess and a bruise has taken over his left eye. A small trickle of blood is oozing out of the corner of his mouth and he dabs at it with a grey rag.

  I lean away from the door and stare at his face. Somebody hurt him while I was away. I will have to find that person and deal with him for marring something that belongs to me, but for now I can only focus on the sweet liquid slowly oozing from the cut on Jason’s upper lip.

  I glide across the floor, moving closer to the bed until he looks up and lowers the rag to his lap. He stares at the blood on my face and hands and worry quickly writes itself across his face.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, clearly unknowing of what happened outside.

  I inch my way to him, my eyes are focused on his lips and I say, “Never better.

  “What happened outside?” he asks.

  “Zombie attack.” I say, creeping closer to him.

  “I thought that’s what was going on. I heard the commotion and tried running to help, but some guy hit me to get me out of the way.” He replies.

  “That’s unfortunate. You’ll have to show me who he is and we can deal with him together.”

  He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “Like what?” I ask, just a few more feet to go.

  He stands from the bed and backs away from me, “Like you want to rip me to pieces.”

  I shake my head, “You must be shaken up from the whole ordeal. I’m fine.”

  He keeps backing up until he hits the wall behind him, giving him nowhere to run without me catching him. The blood is still by his mouth, beckoning me to come closer and closer until I allow it to engulf my tongue in that mouthwatering liquid. I move quicker than he notices and I pin him against the wall. Fear takes over his eyes and drenches his skin in that sweet sweat on his brow.

  His fear smells delicious.

  “Please, if you’re going to kill me just make it quick.” Jason pleads.

  “I would never kill you.” I whisper as I stare into his teary eyes.

  “Then what are you doing?”

  His lips are quivering and his hands are shaking. He holds his breath while I move my lips closer to his. I close my eyes and bring my mouth to his. His lips are moist from the blood on his cut and his entire body is tense from our encounter. I stick my tongue out and drag it from his chin, then back to his lips, licking every last ounce of blood from his face.

  I pull my head away from him and allow him to breathe again. His body relaxes, but there is still a trace amount of fear in his eyes. I don’t want him to be afraid of me. I want him to enjoy this and crave me just as much as I crave him. I want him to be a part of the future I plan on creating with him by my side when I save the human race.

  “I promise that I would never kill you.” I say quietly, breaking through the silence taking over the room.

  He slowly nods his head and stares down at the floor. His hands are shaking and he shoves them into the pockets of his faded jeans. There is something on his mind that doesn’t have to do with the attraction between us. I step closer and run my fingers through his hair and down the length of his face.

  “What’s the matter, Jason?” I say quickly.

  “What are we doing here?” he replies with a sigh.

  I raise an eyebrow and say, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I mean, why are we still here? We need to find a way to get out of here and get back to the city. We have to get back to the original plan of giving the cure to someone who will use it wisely.”

  “You think we have strayed from that plan?” I ask.

  He nods and says, “Yeah, we’ve been stuck here for a few weeks now and we have our freedom. We can leave anytime we want.”

  I take a step away from him and stare into his wonderful, dark eyes. He seems passionate about the words he is saying. The look in his eyes is sincere and I feel the need to say what he wants to hear.

  “Who’s to say that isn’t part of my plan?” I say and his eyes light up.

  “It is?”

  I shrug, “Let’s just take this time to enjoy the small luxuries that Trevor wants to bestow upon us. Things will transpire and the world will be able to feel safe again.”

  He nods and says, “Can you promise that?”

  “Of course I can.”

  He smiles and brings his hand to my chin. I feel him wiping away some of the excess blood that remains on my skin. His fingers are soft and soothing and he caresses my face so gently, never taking his eyes off of mine. I lift my right hand and pull the shades from my face. The sun cannot get to them in here and I want to see him fully.

  “You really have changed, haven’t you?” he questions.

  “Only for the better.” I reply.

  He puts a hand on the back of my neck and forces his lips onto mine. The fear he once had of me is gone as he massages my tongue with his. I feel his hands rubbing up and down my back, feeling every inch of me through my clothes. I move my hand to his waist and feel his smooth skin under his shirt. He pulls me closer and our bodies finally touch.

  I wrap my fingers around his shirt and hold on tight. We move away from the wall and he gently pulls me towards the bed with our lips still sealed together. The want for him is growing stronger by the second. My breathing has gotten faster and there is a tingling sensation flowing up and down my spine. We topple onto the bed and Jason lies on top of me.

  He breaks our kiss and stares intently into my eyes. He runs his fingers through my hair and caresses my cheek with a smile on his face.

  “Ever since the day I met you I’ve wanted to be with you.” He says quietly.

  I smile in return and say, “Good things always come to those who wait.”

  He slowly lowers his face toward mine until our lips touch once more. I close my eyes and let the emotions run through me, taking over every inch of my being. He runs his hand down my side then gradually goes under my shirt, feeling my soft skin against his rough fingertips. Just as he is about to graze his fingers over my stomach, a sound in the hallway interrupts us.

  Once again, he pulls himself away from me and both our heads turn toward the door of the room. Footsteps are quickly approaching from the other side until they stop completely. Next, a loud banging fills the room as a fist hits against the door over and over.

  * * *

  I stare at the locked door and listen to the banging of the fist on the other side. The man yelling at us to open the door is not Trevor nor anyone that I recognize. He sounds angry though, there is much hatred and fear in his voice as he screams profanities at us. Jason stands a few feet away from me, waiting for the door to burst open or me to be unwise and open it myself.

  “Open the damn door!” the man shouts again. “You need to pay for what you’ve done you fucking freak.”

  A louder sound hits the door next and the whole thing vibrates. They are trying to kick the door in. I have a feeling I know why this man is angry with me. He most likely saw what happened outside with that Mohawk man and I can only assume he doesn’t want to risk something like that happening again.

  There are other angry voices filling the hall beyond the door. Men and women both are shouting, cursing my name and the very thing that I am. The cure means nothing to them right now. All they care about is destroying a monster like me and ending a threat that could easily rip this place apart.

  They kick at the door again and it shakes uncontrollably in the frame. The hinges are old and rusted, it wouldn’t take much to break the lock and burst inward at us. I turn to Jason. He is standing tall with his hands clenched into fists. Behind him are the boarded windows that pro
ve to be of no use. It would take some time to pull the nails out of the wood in order to get through and by then the angry mob in the hallway could very well be inside with us. That would be dangerous for us both.

  “C’mon out, beast!” the man shouts and kicks at the door.

  I would prefer to be called something a little more suiting to my nature. A beast makes me sound like an animal and a monster is something of nightmares. I can’t be called a zombie or a vampire, but I deserve to be called something other than the names they are shouting through the door.

  “Bridget,” Jason speaks up, “what should we do?”

  I look back to the door and take a step forward, “Maybe we should give them what they want.”

  I move closer to the door and reach for the knob as they kick at it one more time. I feel the cold metal in my grip and hold it firmly. All I need to do is twist my wrist and the lock will be set free and the door will swing open. They will get what they want and face the thing that ended the life of a human being. I just need to turn the doorknob.

  I listen to the sounds coming from the other side of the door before I turn the knob. They continue to shout at me and bang their fists against the walls and the door itself. Beyond their voices, I hear more footsteps rapidly approaching the scene. More people to add to the mob.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Trevor’s voice shouts, barely loud enough to carry through the angry yelling.

  “That thing you brought here needs to pay for what it did to Randall.” The shouting man speaks, mentioning the guy with the Mohawk.

  “Yeah,” the mob shouts in agreement, “The bitch needs to die!”

  “Listen to me!” Trevor yells over them, “I saw what she did out there and how she killed Randall, but I am not going to kill her because of it. She is our cure, our future of surviving this apocalypse. One human being is not reason enough to kill her.”