Forbidden Feast

by Joelle Sterling

  Tony rubbed a hand roughly over his face. “Yeah, there’s a Texaco station on Pelham, but nobody’s buying gas. The lot is filled with abandoned cars and crazies roaming around looking for fresh meat. They’re moving slow and clumsy-like, but it’s only a matter of time before they find their way here.” He gestured toward the front lawn, and then glanced at Leroy. “Are those your customers sprawled out in the yard?”

  “I don’t know those folks,” Leroy muttered contemptuously.

  Tony peeked through the slats and shook his head ominously. “They’re not going to stay dead, you know. Dead people are rising up and terrorizing the living. They’ve been branching out into residential neighborhoods. People have been packing up and trying to leave town, but most don’t make it to the main highway. I’ve seen those crazies leaping on cars and bashing in windows, and dragging out victims to feed on. They’re eating folks alive!”

  Charlotte groaned. “Jesus! We’re already spooked; do you have to be so graphic?” She began rocking the baby and patting her back, as if Jane needed to be comforted from Tony’s disturbing report.

  Gabe set his rifle down. “Those dead folks on the lawn won’t be getting up again. All it takes is a blow to the head, and they’re done.”

  “No, shit! A shot to the head kills ’em for good?” Tony asked excitedly.

  Gabe nodded. “Problem is, we only have three guns and one of them is out of ammo. We’re pretty secure in here, but if they find a way to get in, we’re gonna have to get close and fight ’em off with those.” Gabe inclined his head toward the items he and Leroy had brought out of the garage.

  Tony visibly cringed. “No way! I’m not getting close to those crazies!”

  Eden felt a surge of annoyance. “What are you going to do if they try to break in here? Are you gonna run behind the counter and hide?” Eden said with contempt.

  Tony opened his mouth to defend himself, but giving in to exhaustion, he grabbed his stomach and slid down the wall until he was seated on the floor with his knees drawn into his chest.

  “What’s wrong, Tony?” Leroy asked.

  “My ulcers are killing me, and my medicine is in the glove compartment of the truck.”

  “I’ll get you a glass of milk—you know, to coat your stomach,” Leroy offered and hurried to the dairy case to get Tony some milk. In a flash, Leroy was back with a pint of milk, handing it to Tony.

  Groaning miserably, one hand clutched his tummy, and Tony reached for the container of milk with the other. “It happened so fast,” he murmured. “One minute, I was handing the head cook at Gordon’s the delivery of sourdough and Italian bread, and the next minute, I heard someone holler. I whipped around and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The dishwasher dude and a female cook were fighting. Violently! Going for the jugular! The dishwasher gouged out the cook’s right eye, and even with a bloody eye, dangling down her face and hanging by a thread, she was still fighting. She yanked the dishwasher toward her, and with one vicious chomp, she ripped off the dude’s nose! In split seconds, the entire kitchen was in chaos, with workers savagely scratching and biting each other.

  “I ran out the back door, intending to run to my truck. But just that fast, people who were leisurely walking the streets were being attacked and mauled like animals. I scrambled inside a Dumpster that was on the side of the restaurant, and from a tiny opening, I watched the carnage. I watched in disbelief as dead people came back to life and immediately began prowling around and attacking human beings.”

  Eden nodded and looked from Tony’s shirt down to his sneakers. The Dumpster revelation accounted for the food stains on his clothing.

  “How long did you have to hide in that Dumpster?” Charlotte asked with a frown.

  Tony shrugged. “I don’t know . . . too long. Finally, the hoard of crazies started to move away from the vicinity of the restaurant. That’s when I took a chance and climbed out of the Dumpster. I ran to my truck, and was about to open the door, when I caught a glimpse of something moving. There were three or four of ’em— in the back of the truck with the bread—chowing down on—”

  “They eat bread?” Charlotte inquired, astounded.

  “No, they were chowing down on Flossie,” Tony said, shaking his head solemnly.

  “Who’s Flossie?” Leroy wanted to know.

  “A homeless woman. Whenever I make deliveries at Gordon’s, I give the old lady a loaf of day-old bread. Somehow, she got inside my truck. I don’t know if she was trying to get to the bread or if she was hiding from the crazies.” Tony gave a harsh sigh. “What they did to the old girl was terrible. Even more horrible, she was still alive—reaching out in desperation and begging me to help her.” Grimacing, Tony glanced downward and unconsciously ran his hand back and forth over his thighs. “My muscles are killing me from crouching and hiding for so many hours.”

  His stomach—his muscles. What a lousy coward! It seemed to Eden that Tony was making every excuse in the book to avoid helping out when the time came to go into combat against the biters.

  CHAPTER 15

  Jonas made an effort to look extra nice for his date with Holland, and by the time she arrived at the mall, he was looking fashionable in slim jeans, an oxford shirt, and a plaid, puffer vest. He’d arrived at the mall an hour early, and with time on his hands, he decided to browse in some of the stores. At Gap, he bought the exact outfit the mannequin in the display window was wearing.

  “You look awesome,” Holland complimented.

  “So do you,” he replied and gave her quick kiss. “Is there anything in particular you want to see?”

  “Doesn’t matter; I’m happy being with you,” she said, reaching for his hand as they walked toward the movie complex.

  They checked the movies that were playing and decided on a romantic comedy. Looking at the show times, Holland scowled. “There’s an hour-and-a-half wait.”

  “We can see something else,” Jonas suggested, scanning the various featured films.

  “Actually, I don’t mind waiting. We can stop by the arcade to kill time. Do you like video games?”

  “No,” Jonas said sharply. “I’m not interested in the arcade.”

  Holland gave him a quizzical look. “Okay, it was just a suggestion; we can do something else.”

  “I’m sorry for raising my voice; I didn’t mean to. It’s just that I went to the arcade with Zac and it brings back terrible memories.”

  “No problem; I’m not crazy about video games, anyway. Hey, I’m suddenly starving; let’s get something to . . .” Holland’s voice trailed off and she looked at Jonas with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I forgot about, uh . . .”

  “My diet,” he filled in with a wry smile.

  “Yeah; sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay. I can sit inside a restaurant without flipping out or anything,” he said, laughing.

  “But it’s not fair for you to sit and watch me eat.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he reassured, noticing that the various aromas floating from the food court weren’t making him nauseous like they had the last time he’d been at the mall. He supposed he was adapting to the environment.

  “The mall is usually a lot more crowded in the evening. I wonder where everyone is tonight.”

  “I like that the mall’s not hectic and jam-packed.”

  “Yeah, me too, but it’s weird that there’s such a sparse crowd tonight.” She wanted to talk to Jonas about the vampires, but decided he had enough problems of his own to deal with.

  As Jonas and Holland drifted toward the food court, Jonas detected a pleasant scent that stood out from the various eateries as well as the mixture of human scents. He spotted the source—a Japanese restaurant. “Do you like Japanese food?” he asked Holland.

  “Never tried it, but I’m feeling adventurous.”

  Jonas guided Holland into the restaurant and was surprised that the combination of flavors didn’t repel him—in fact, they were rather enticing.

  After they wer
e seated, the waiter announced the specials. Holland said, “I’ve never eaten Japanese food, so I’d better stick to something familiar—like steak.”

  “Be daring,” the waiter encouraged. “Try a sushi appetizer.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s raw fish. Ew, I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.” The waited winked an eye.

  “Okay, I’ll have the combination platter for starters.”

  “And you?” he asked Jonas. “Are you going to live on the edge also?”

  “Yes, I’ll have the same,” Jonas said. Holland looked at him questioningly, and when the waiter walked away, Jonas explained, “That guy was so friendly, I felt put on the spot—like I had to order something. When the food comes, feel free to help yourself to my portions.”

  Their food arrived and Holland and Jonas ogled the colorful array of sushi that was placed before them. “What’s that glob of green stuff?” Holland asked the waiter.

  “Wasabi sauce; it’s Japanese horseradish—very spicy,” he warned. “You only need a little dab.” He gave them a laminated placard with the images and names of the fish, and Holland and Jonas spent a few minutes identifying the sushi on their plates.

  Holland tried shrimp sushi first. “Mm; it’s good,” she murmured, dipping the piece of shrimp into the wasabi sauce and scooping up a generous portion. The moment she bit into the shrimp, tears sprang to her eyes and she quickly wiped them away. “Oh, my God; it’s super-hot!” she gasped, reaching for a glass of water and chugging it down.

  “You were warned,” Jonas reminded her, laughing.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know it would be like fire shooting through my nostrils. That innocent-looking sauce is deceptively lethal,” she said, laughing while wiping tears from her eyes.

  “Back in Haiti, we enjoy spicy food. I’ve never tasted wasabi sauce, but I’m sure I would have an appreciation for it.”

  “I don’t know, Jonas. It doesn’t taste like hot sauce or pepper. It’s a different kind of hot.” She went for another piece of sushi— tuna—and this time, skipping the wasabi sauce, she splashed it in soy sauce.

  Without thinking, Jonas lifted a piece of salmon from the bed of rice and stuck it in his mouth and began to chew. Holland stared at him in disbelief. “What?” he asked, unaware that he was absently munching.

  Leaning forward, she gawked at him. “You’re eating food! How’s it taste? Can you swallow it without gagging?”

  His eyes wide with wonder, he nodded as he swallowed. “It tastes, uh, fishy.”

  “How do you feel? Are you nauseous?”

  “No, I feel fine.”

  “Try another piece,” Holland said enthusiastically and Jonas reached for a piece of mackerel, gobbled it down quickly, and then went for the red snapper. Holland watched him closely, her eyes glinting with a mixture of wonder and pride. “The spell worked,” she whispered, awestruck.

  Suddenly famished, Jonas stuffed his mouth with every piece of raw fish on his plate. “I’m sorry for behaving like a glutton, but I can’t seem to get enough.”

  “Here, have some of mine,” she said, pushing her plate toward him. “Excuse me,” she called, beckoning their waiter.

  The waiter came to their table and stared at Jonas, who was shoveling in raw fish with both hands. “Looks like you’ve become sushi lovers . . . or at least he has. Can I get you a couple more combo platters?”

  “No, thanks. We’re ready for our entrée.” She gazed at the menu. “We’d both like sirloin steak.”

  “How would you like the steak—well-done . . . medium . . . medium-rare?”

  “Medium for me, but make his rare; he likes it bloody,” Holland said with an uncomfortable chuckle. She cut an eye at Jonas and saw that he’d wolfed down most of her food, leaving only rice, ginger slices, and wasabi sauce.

  “Two steaks, medium and bloody coming up,” the waiter said, smiling as he cleared away their plates.

  “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to eat steak,” Jonas said worriedly. “I still don’t have an appetite for cooked food—only raw meat.”

  “That’s why I ordered it extra rare. You can scrape off the charred top. I’m crossing my fingers that you’ll be able to eat the steak. Oh, Jonas, this is so exciting; you’re almost back to your regular self.”

  “Not quite. I can hear every word spoken at that table in the back.”

  Holland turned around, and noticed two couples dining together in the rear of the large room. She couldn’t make out their conversation, only heard indistinct murmurs and bursts of laughter.

  “And the voices in my head . . . they’re low, but I can still hear them. And when they get loud, it feels like my head is going to split in two.”

  “But we’ve made some progress, right?”

  “Yes, and I thank you.”

  Holland leaned in and whispered, “Do you still feel the hunger . . . you know, for people?”

  “Not really. I’ve been managing those cravings for a long time.”

  “But do you feel the urge?”

  “No, not at all,” he said with excitement.

  “Awesome! Even if my spell didn’t work completely, at least we know I’m on the right track.”

  “What kind of spell did you do? You know, what did it require?”

  “Nothing much. It was a basic, hex-reversal ritual. All I had to do was light a candle, picture you in my mind, and recite a Latin incantation. It was easy, and I had a weird sense that we were together. In fact, you called and asked to take me out while I was in the midst of chanting the incantation.”

  “Hmm. I wonder if my call interfered with the spell.”

  “I don’t think so. Your call seemed like a sign that the spell was working. At any rate, I’m going to try it again.”

  Jonas nodded and drifted off in thought, wondering if the creatures he’d spawned could eat raw meat, also.

  The steaks arrived and after Jonas removed the crispy outside, he tore into it, closing his eyes delightfully as he chewed the bloody meat. Both Jonas and Holland wore satisfied smiles at the conclusion of their meal. “Delicious,” Holland said, dabbing her lips with a napkin.

  “Very satisfying,” Jonas agreed. He paid the bill and then glanced at his watch. “Looks like we missed the first fifteen minutes of the movie.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not that interested in the movie anymore. Dinner was fun and if we hadn’t stopped here, we wouldn’t have discovered that you’re like . . . almost back to normal.”

  “Are you ready to go home?” Jonas asked as he and Holland exited the mall.

  “Not really. I’m not ready for this night to end. I have Mom’s car; we could go for a ride.”

  Jonas considered the offer. “Sounds good . . . but we have another option. I’m staying at the Atwell Hotel. We can hang out in my room . . . listen to music or watch a movie, if you’d like.” He held his hands up. “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me; I’ll be a gentleman,” he assured her with a warm smile.

  Jonas wrapped his arm around Holland as they walked to the parking lot. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he breathed in her tantalizing scent. For the first time, since he’d met her, he was able to enjoy her fragrance without simultaneously fighting the urge to devour her.

  Holland drove with one hand on the wheel and the other entwined with Jonas’s. Love songs that seemed to be written especially for them poured from the radio. They listened in silence, squeezing each other’s hand and kissing each time they stopped for a red light.

  “You’re so quiet; what are you thinking about?” Jonas asked Holland.

  “I’m imagining all my dreams coming true.”

  “What do you dream of, Holland?”

  “I dream of you and me . . . finishing high school together. Going to the same college, and getting a place together. Maybe even getting married . . . you know, one day . . . after you get your medical degree.”

  “I wish I were as optimistic as you,
but after everything that’s happened to me, being in school seems like a farfetched dream.”

  “But it’s not farfetched at all, Jonas. You have the documents that Rebecca gave you. You could use them to enroll in school.”

  “I can’t simply walk into high school and enroll. I need a permanent address. And a guardian,” he said with a sigh.

  “I can talk to Rebecca. Maybe she’d agree to act as your guardian. I’m sure she’d do it for me. After all, you rescued me. Having a witch of The First Order under her wing is important to her, so she should feel totally indebted to you for saving my life. I’m going to talk to her about getting you enrolled in school.”

  A troubled look crossed Jonas’s face. Despite Holland’s efforts, he still remained a cursed, young man. Mamba Mathilde had told him that his spirit was lost forever. He wondered if he should even hope that Holland possessed the power to restore his soul.

  “I’m not ready for school, Holland.”

  “Why not? School is the reason you made the trip from Haiti in the first place.”

  Jonas realized he couldn’t possibly begin anew if he left behind the battalion of flesh craving creatures that he’d spawned and that were somewhere nearby, wreaking havoc. Until he located and subdued them, he’d never have peace of mind.

  “I can’t commit to an education right now.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No!” he said firmly. “I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

  At the next stop light, Holland turned and looked at him, and saw the raw pain in his eyes. “I understand, Jonas.”

  “Do you?”

  Holland made a gesture that wasn’t quite a shrug. They reached Jonas’s hotel, and she pulled into the lot.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to take a rain check; I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come inside.”

  Holland winced. “Why not—what’s wrong?”

  “It’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep you out past your curfew.”

  She sighed. Jonas’s frequent mood swings had a way of keeping her anxious and off balance.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow.” He kissed her on the cheek.