“Your two pregnant wives.”
“not mine,” he mumbles.
“What?”
“Never mind….”
His head hangs low. But he listens to my words and stops struggling, allowing our handlers to lift his chin and strap his feeding tube in place with long thick swaths of spiked leather that stretch completely around his head and buckle in place.
I want to ask him what he meant when he mumbled ‘not mine’, but I’m distracted by hot fresh agony ripping through my flesh. The zombie who is draining the life from me sinks her teeth deeper into my sensitive skin and tugs roughly on my flesh as she drinks my essence. I suspect she doesn’t have to consume my life force so cruelly. I think she just enjoys the pained grunts I sound out as she tears at my flesh and steals my years away from me.
The zombie drinking Magnus is just as vicious. She’s scraping her teeth up and down his length, making his back arch and hips jerk in torment. His grip on my hand is weaker than it was a moment ago, but still too forceful. His strength overwhelms the new frailness of my fingers. My bones ache. He rubs the thin, aging skin lining my knuckles raw. As his fingertips press hard into my knuckles, I feel the increasingly brittle bones of my hand crack, threatening to splinter into hundreds of tiny broken pieces.
His grip tightens, and I scream out in agony as one of my aged fingers snap. Instantly he stops squeezing, recognizing he’s injured me. Even though he’s loosened his grip, the agony shooting from my broken finger up into my wrist and arm is nearly unbearable. I almost wish the zombies would just finish me off instead of draining my life force away and then giving it back to me, making me strong and whole again with their life-giving milk.
In years, I am still a young man of twenty-nine. But, as my zombie handler drinks my life away, my body ages. I look down at the thin, shriveled skin lining my arm, and I would estimate my body is biologically 90 years old now. I turn to face Magnus again, and I see that his hair is thin, sparse and now entirely white.
With brutal speed, the three zombie handlers move from Magnus to me. I open my mouth for them and allow them to push the lubricated feeding tube down my throat. Even though I comply, the thick tube still scrapes up my tender throat lining. But, at least, I don’t taste blood this time. Last time, the feeding was brutal. I’m a strong man, and I can endure a lot of pain. But I don’t desire ever to experience a feeding as vicious as the one Magnus, and I suffered through less than four hours ago.
“Enjoy your cream, boys.”
All the zombie handlers laugh in unison as they use funnels to pour their creamy zombie milk into our feeding tubes. The warm milk hits the back of my throat and lands almost past my gag reflex. Almost. I think my cruel handlers placed the tube in this exact position so they could take pleasure in watching me gag and choke as I try to swallow down gulp after gulp of heavy cream.
“Daisy!”
Magnus’ mind screams the name of the woman he loves as he suffers through his torture. His throat makes sputtering, coughing and gagging sounds, just like mine, as he chugs down his milky dinner. The sound of his suffering makes bile rise in my throat. But, I swallow it down. I have little choice. I can swallow, or I can choke.
Chapter 14
Bella
“Why did you conspire to separate Magnus and Daisy?” I ask Hamma once we’ve hiked a sufficient distance away from our hubull protectors. I don’t want any of them to overhear our conversation. This is a private discussion between a mentor and her protégée.
“Because I had to,” Hamma glances back at me and grimaces.
“That’s a lie,” I clench both fists into rock hard balls as I challenge the sincerity of her answer.
“Because, she didn’t love my boy… not the way he deserves to be loved.”
“That’s insanity. Of course, she loved him; she spent every second she could in his bed.”
“She didn’t love him. She loved his cock.” Hamma’s movements still.
“That’s not true!” I shout, defending my best friend. “She loved both him and his cock.”
“She loves sex. Period. She’s a lusty, spoiled brat, and she’ll hop into bed with anyone who sets off her cravings. She can’t help herself. It’s the hucow hormones coursing through her little body that make her behave this way.”
Hamma’s throat releases a bitter laugh as she turns around to face the herd of hubulls following us. Less than a mile back, she’d ordered them to trail far behind us as we walked closer to the zombie encampment. Now she holds up her hand giving them the signal to stop following us all together. We are to travel the rest of the distance to the zombie camp alone.
We’re both aware we’re walking into a trap. It’s a trap we two can survive if we use our smarts. But, we both know if any of the hubulls in our company follow us into the zombie compound they’ll most certainly be killed on site.
It would have been safest for them if we had left them all at the farm. But, we had to bring them with us. We needed their protection to make it this far.
Zombies aren’t the only danger in these hills. Other predators are roaming about. Especially, in the area we just crossed. Hungry coyotes, wolves, and bobcats regularly travel these hillsides in search of vulnerable prey to slaughter and consume. They need to hunt and eat to survive and to feed their young. Hamma and I don’t begrudge them their survival. We simply don’t want to be their next dinner.
“Once and for all, tell me the truth,” I keep pushing my mentor for answers. “Why did you convince Flavius to separate Magnus and Daisy?”
“You don’t want to hear the truth,” Hamma scolds while trudging forward through a patch of thick brush. “You expect me to tell you fairytales.”
“I want the truth. I want you to tell me the real and complete truth, even if it isn’t pretty or what I want to hear,” I insist.
“Hmm. I seriously doubt that.” Hamma stops and turns to face me.
I cease holding my tongue and ask the question I’ve meant to ask, since the start of this journey.
“Why did you make me hurt my best friend?” I feel my lips distort and twist onto themselves as I spit venom at her.
She gives no reply.
“I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me, down to the letter. I even brutalized my best friend for you. Don’t you think you owe me an explanation? Why did you make me hurt Daisy?”
My mentor remains silent.
Her lack of response infuriates me, and I ask my question again, this time shouting out my words.
“Why did you instruct me to laugh at Daisy during her breeding? My taunts wounded her – nearly destroyed her. I saw it on her face. Why did you make me mistreat my best friend so cruelly?”
“She needed an attitude adjustment,” Hamma finally grunts. “She’s a hucow, not a queen. It was high time you and the farmer taught Daisy how to respect and obey – her betters.”
“Her betters?”
“Yes, her betters. As young girls, you and I were both taught the facts. Hupigs and hubulls are better than hucows who are better than ponyboys. And we are all better than humans. Have you forgotten the lessons your Sky Mountain teachers drilled into you?”
“I’ve tried to forget the lies they taught us in school, but you keep reminding me of them.”
“Anyway, I’m a human now, so by your logic Daisy is my better. I should obey her.”
“You, a human. Ha!” Explosive laughter erupts from her mouth. “You could be a hupig right now if you wanted to. We both know you could successfully make the transformation.”
“My soul is hucow. I may be trapped as a human now, but someday I long to be a hucow again.”
“Hmm. I see.” Hamma grunts, and I blush, unsure why I’m revealing my heart to the woman I’m furiously angry with.
“I’ll share a secret with you,” she speaks earnestly, as though she’s my mother. “A few humiliating taunts, and a swift swat on the rear followed by intense sexual stimulation is all it usually takes to keep a hucow in line.”
“You want Daisy to be your bride, don’t you? Then you’ll have to train her to be obedient. If you don’t, she’ll betray your marriage bed and have sex with anyone who turns her eye. Humiliation. Spanking. Sexual pleasure. That’s the trifecta of hucow training. That’s how we convince them to do what we want. You want to train her to love you, don’t you?”
“Abuse her to make her love me. Are you insane?”
Hamma doesn’t respond to my outrage. Instead, she lowers her backpack off her shoulders, unzips it and reaches inside. I expect her to pull out something of significance, something that might provide an answer to my question. Instead, she pulls out a knife. She pulls out her long serrated hunting knife and unsheathes it, clutching its bone handle in her tight grasp. In one fluid motion, she closes her backpack and throws the heavy pack over her shoulders.
She motions with her knife for me to follow her more closely.
Defensively, I reach down into my satchel. It’s designed to hang over my arm, but instead, I’ve rigged it to strap tightly around my waist for quicker access. With speed, I unzip my bag, reach in and pull out my own sharp-edged hunting knife.
I go on the attack.
I clutch my knife tightly in hand. But, instead of slicing into her flesh with the blade like I want to, I attack Hamma with my words.
“You have a cold heart. Ice cold heart.” I shout. “You manipulate everyone around you to get what you want."
I wave my knife in front of me as if I'm slicing her to shreds instead of only screaming at her. “Tell me your master plan. What do you want out of all this, anyway? You aren’t doing this just to keep Daisy away from Magnus. You want more than to try and help Flavius and I make Daisy our wife.
You must have a plan to gain more power, and influence. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. You certainly can't want anything good or pure, anything like – love. You always talk to me about embracing the love I have for Daisy. But, your words are empty because you know nothing of love. How could you? No one could ever love a monster as cruel as you. You’re a destroyer of love and everything else good.”
She ignores me and keeps marching forward.
I follow closely behind her screaming like a bad-tempered child.
“You’re cruel to everyone. You abuse Flavius. You abuse me. You even abuse your son. You claim you want what’s best for him. You say you love him, but you don’t. How could you? You separated him from the woman he loves!”
Her lack of response infuriates me, and I literally spit as I scream.
“You made Magnus marry those two bratty hupig girls after you went futa, grew a dick and a pair of balls and impregnated them while we were secretly vacationing at the Sky Mountain Estates. Those girls are carrying your babies, not his. But, you manipulated him into marrying them. And you’re making him claim your unborn babies as his own. You’re wicked.”
“Ha!” she finally huffs. “I’ll claim what’s mine. You’ll see. I love those two brats. I love my unborn babies too. They’re all precious to me. More dear than you could imagine.”
“You have a cruel way of showing your love,” I huff back.
Hamma uses her hunting knife like a machete to cut through some of the thick brush ahead of us. As she peels back the broken tree limbs with her hands, I realize she’s breathing heavier than I’ve ever heard her breathe before. She’s huffing and sniffing as she draws in air, almost like she’s trying to stifle tears. The great Hamma cry. Never. I must be imagining her sniffles and dry sobs. Her heart is too cold to feel. She’s too ornery and mean to shed tears.
“I humiliated my best friend. For what?” I finally grumble then allow my shoulders to slump forward in self-disgust.
“Through struggle we grow.”
I want to slap her. This is no time to spout ancient truths. I want to block out her voice, but I can’t help but listen to and digest every word spilling from her lips.
“You’re learning to better yourself and strengthen your will, my child. You’re winning Daisy’s happiness as well as your own happiness too by overcoming these challenges.”
“I humiliated Daisy to make her happy. You’re insane."
Hamma shrugs her shoulders.
"I’m a cruel woman – but, I’m worse than you,” I blurt out what I’m thinking. “I don't have the excuse of being a power-crazy farm queen. I'm simply a deluded fool. I’m foolish for following the advice of a mad woman and agreeing to dishonor my friendship with Daisy by lying to her and mistreating her.”
Hamma audibly clears her throat. I interpret the sound as her disagreeing with my last statement.
“You’re wrong. Mistreating the first love of my life won’t make either of us happy.”
My mentor and I walk forward in silence. The only sounds that pass between us are our pants of heavy breathing as we both hike uphill.
Since the day I first met Daisy at hucow training, seven years ago, I longed to make her my wife. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had a slight, petite frame with long, luxurious soft brunette locks that trailed in loose curves down her back.
My classmate was spunky and smart, and an unending source of mischief and humor. She was different than any woman I had ever met before. Tough, but sweet. Maybe it was because she was born human and raised in one of their massive concrete cities. Her difficult upbringing had made her a fighter.
At hucow training, she was a dissident, always creating her own individual raucous path toward completing her coursework. Most young hucows were stressed and broken down by the strict discipline of training. Not Daisy. Daisy thrived in the harsh environment, and her infectious enthusiasm for learning lifted the spirits of everyone around her. She blazed through training with her unstoppable spirit, and I loved her for it.
From the first moment I experienced the raw sincerity of her fighting spirit, I wanted to claim her body and her love for my own. But, when I had the chance to love her, I claimed her body cruelly. I allowed my mentor to manipulate me into treating my sweet rebel harshly, instead of with the tenderness and love she deserves.
I'm sorry Daisy. I'm so sorry for betraying you. I love you so desperately; my heart breaks over how I've harmed you. You’re my princess. No, you’re my queen. You always will be dearer to me than anyone. Except perhaps, for the single exception of my husband. If I had to choose between the two of you, I don’t know what I would do.
I want to weep bitterly, but I keep my composure because I know I have to. If I break down now, I’ll be useless in the fight to rescue my husband and Magnus.
I have to save both of them. It’s my only way to redeem myself.
I won’t live a wicked life any longer. I refuse to continue be a cruel woman. From now on, I'll be my real self; the woman Daisy has inspired me to be. I will be courageous and heroic– like the woman I love. I will put right all of the wrongs I’ve perpetrated.
Hamma motions for me to follow her up onto a tiny hillside which appears completely covered with thick brush. When we arrive at the top of the hill, I see two large rocks next to a patch of flat grass. Hamma sits down on the patch of grass and leans against the second most massive rock. She motions for me to sit down beside her and lean my back against the taller, heavy crag. I sit down next to her, reluctantly.
“Give me you knife!” she orders, while holding out her hand to take my only weapon away from me.
“Why should I?” I question. “How do I know you won’t stab me with it while my back is turned?”
“If I was going to stab you I would have done it already,” Hamma chuckles at her own joke.
“That’s not funny.”
“Stop the drama. You’re acting like an ill-mannered child. Now give me your blade.”
“No!” I refuse to give up my knife. I remain defiant.
“Do you want to save your husband, or not?” She finally asks, raising one eyebrow.
“You know I do.”
&nb
sp; “Then you need to hand over your knife. And you need to do it within the next few seconds. What I’m asking you to do is important. I know it seems like I’m leading you astray, but you need to trust me. I fully intend to save us all.”
For a brief second, I clutch my knife to my chest then with an extended arm I begrudgingly hand my blade over to my former mentor. In an instant, I realize that trusting her again was the wrong decision.
“The human is disarmed. Take her now!”
A rush of fresh smelling, glowing blue-eyed zombies jump out from behind the bushes and come racing toward me. My eyes sprint rapidly from left to right, desperately trying to find an escape route, but there is none. Dozens of surprisingly warm hands grip my arms and legs and hoist my body into the air.
“I’ve delivered your lost zombie, as promised. Now take me to your queen. We have our treaty to negotiate!” Hamma barks her order at the collective horde of undead hucows who are carrying me off, back to captivity.
Chapter 15
Daisy
“Stop, Swinea! Stop, Pigletta!” I clench my fists and pull back on the two hupigs who are dragging me toward the safety of the farmhouse.
“Ow! You’re hurting me!” Swinea whines as I tighten my grip on her hand and yank, forcing her to stop pulling me forward.
“Stop tugging, and come with us hucow!” Pigletta barks while dragging me closer to what she must perceive as the security of the farmhouse. She promised Bella and Hamma she would protect me. She is clearly determined to do her duty— whether I wanted her to or not.
“Help me drag her into the house,” Pigletta shouts the order at Swinea.
“But, she’s hurting my hand!” Swinea’s nose wrinkles as she winces and complains.
“Stop being a baby! Woman up and act like the proud hupig you are supposed to be.”
Swinea forces her lips into the shape of a grimace, grips my fingers tightly and pulls on my wrist hard, yanking me toward the farmhouse.
“Please stop and listen,” I beg. “Bella, Hamma, and the hubulls are in grave danger. They’re walking into a trap! We have to act fast to warn them.”
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