Husk

by Dave Zeltserman

  ‘I like what I see,’ she said.

  I took a sip of my coffee and told her that I did too, which was the truth. Despite the fact that she was extraordinarily pale (although she might have looked more pale than she actually was because of the way her mouth was painted and the thick, ropy dark-brown hair that framed her face), she looked like she’d be full of blood and wouldn’t miss a pint or two. She wasn’t fat, but she had this round, overflowing shape. I remember once reading about a girl described as having an ‘hourglass’ figure, which I later understood when I found an illustration of an hourglass. This girl Annabelle could’ve been similarly described, and with the short, sleeveless dress she was wearing plenty of her flesh was on display. In spite of her paleness there was nothing anemic about her, and I reckoned her blood would satisfy the cravings as effectively as that of any of them.

  She lowered her voice and gave me what could only be described as a coquettish smile. ‘You understand that I don’t want you to just break my skin with your teeth. I want you to draw blood. And when I’m close to climaxing, you have to drink my blood. Actually drink it. I have a way to make my nose bleed when I want it to, and you have to lick up all the blood that comes out. I need that.’

  ‘I will do that,’ I said.

  She took a nibble of the chocolate pastry she’d bought. Her eyes darkened with intensity. ‘It can’t just be something you’re willing to do,’ she said. ‘You have to want to do it as badly as I do.’

  ‘I can promise you that that will be the case.’

  ‘I need you to hunger for my blood.’

  ‘I will.’

  Her smile became more of the excited, nervous kind. She held out her arm with her wrist upwards. Like the rest of her, the appendage wasn’t fat or sagging but round, and the flesh was firm. My clan would’ve done very well from her.

  ‘I’ve got goosebumps,’ she said. ‘Feel them.’

  I had little choice but to do as she asked, if I wanted her blood. I felt the small bumps on her skin.

  ‘So when do we do this?’ she asked eagerly. ‘Now? Tonight?’

  ‘I can’t today. I have plans. Perhaps later next week? Wednesday or Thursday?’

  I did have plans, though only for much later that night. And I wanted to postpone this sordid act until it was absolutely necessary. The last two days the cravings had been waking up, but I thought I might have until Thursday before I’d have to feed them again or risk being driven to savagery. Possibly Friday.

  She pouted. ‘You’re being such a tease. You get me all worked up, and now you’re telling me I have to wait.’

  ‘I’m sorry. But that’s how it has to be.’

  Her pout faded, and she gave me a slow, calculating look. She leaned forward and in a harsher voice said, ‘You’re not getting cold feet, are you? Because if you are, for Christ’s sake just tell me now and don’t waste my time.’ She let out an angry exhale and confided, ‘The guy I was talking to before dragged things out for three weeks before chickening out. The coward.’

  Although I was repulsed by the thought of it, I said, ‘You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be looking forward to our time alone together. Hopefully it will be just the first of many such encounters.’

  Somewhat mollified, she said, ‘OK, then. Anticipation will make it sweeter. How about Wednesday after I finish work. Eight o’clock? My apartment in Manhattan?’

  ‘Let’s make it the midnight hour. That seems more appropriate for what we’ll be doing.’

  I’d have to hope Jill would be asleep by then, so I’d be able to sneak out and perform this sickening act without her ever realizing it. It seemed likely that she would be, since she’d been retiring to her bedroom by eleven o’clock every night. Of course, this was so she’d be able to get up early enough to join me for breakfast.

  But that wouldn’t be the case much longer. Five hours previously, having retired as a dishwasher, I’d contacted one of the builders who gave me a business card, and since I now had my precious social security number and they still needed more builders I was hired to start on Monday at eight in the morning. I figured I’d continue waking at five since that was the most natural time for me, but after Wednesday I’d start preparing breakfast later in the morning, which would suit Jill better.

  Given the way her eyes lit up, this girl who called herself Annabelle seemed to like my suggestion.

  ‘That’s an excellent idea,’ she said. ‘The only thing better would be the witching hour, but I’d be dragging all day if we connected then. Midnight it will be. Until then.’

  She got up from her seat and came over to me, her mouth open as she pressed her lips against mine, her ropy hair shrouding us. I tried (rather unsuccessfully) to imagine she was Jill as I allowed this to happen, since I knew if I pulled away that would be the end of our deal. While I’d rather have resorted to more savagery to satisfy the cravings, I’d already decided that after tonight I needed to follow their laws so as not to jeopardize my life with Jill.

  She moved her mouth to my ear and, in a throaty whisper, said, ‘When I kiss you again, you can bite my lip.’

  I shook my head. I was afraid of how several drops of blood might stir the cravings. ‘The first blood I taste from you will be on Wednesday at midnight.’

  She seemed to appreciate that answer. ‘Anticipation. Wonderful! Until then.’

  She kissed me again, this time harder and more violently. It was more like she was mashing her face against mine, and I tried to keep her from knowing how repulsed I was by it. After she finally (and mercifully) ended it, I watched her as she walked away – and all I could think about was how much meat my clan would’ve been able to carve from her curvy, firm, overflowing body.

  THIRTY-TWO

  When Jill’s former boyfriend, Ethan, returned home, there wasn’t anyone in the car with him. If there had been, I would’ve taken them also. I glanced up at the moon, and from its position in the night sky guessed it was two in the morning, which meant I’d been waiting for him for over five hours.

  When I left earlier, I didn’t know that he lived in a house. All I had was his address, and given his age I assumed he lived in an apartment, like Jill. I came prepared, regardless, bringing a crowbar and other tools so I could break into wherever he lived. When I saw the large sculpted bushes by his front door, I realized I wouldn’t have to break in, as they provided the necessary cover. I hid behind these bushes and decided to grab him as he walked to his front door. But inside the garage there must’ve been a door leading into the house, because shortly after he pulled his green-colored sedan into the garage – the very same one I’d seen him in when he abandoned Jill at that Massachusetts rest stop – I heard noises inside the house.

  I left my hiding place and knocked on the front door. Very quickly I heard him rushing to the door, yelling before he reached it, ‘Fuck you, Goldberg, if you’re coming to complain about noise, you need to get your head out of your ass, because it wasn’t me. I just got home—’

  As Ethan swung the door open, his beefy face contorted into a look of extreme belligerence. When he saw me and realized I wasn’t who he was expecting, he blinked dumbly, trying to remember where he’d seen me before. I didn’t give him any time to remember and punched him in the chest, hard enough to make him crumple backwards.

  I didn’t punch him as hard as I’d have liked to. I didn’t want to kill him. Nor did I want to leave any forensic evidence behind, which was why I wore gloves, purchased earlier, and why I punched him above the heart instead of in the face, where I’d be leaving blood and broken teeth. I followed him into the house, bringing with me a bag filled with tools I thought I might need, as well as rope and a thick piece of cloth. I dragged him away from the door, so I could close it. In less than a minute I had him trussed and gagged, with him putting up only a feeble fight after the blow he had absorbed. I found his car keys still in his pants pocket, then hoisted him on to my shoulder and carried him through the house and into the attached garage. I lai
d him on the cement floor (if I’d dropped him on to it, like I was inclined to do, I might’ve left blood behind), so I could open his car’s trunk. It was filled with stuff, and I moved enough of it to the back seat so I could fit him inside the trunk. By this time he had recovered sufficiently from the blow to try to yell for help, but the gag muffled most of the noise and all he accomplished was making his face a darker shade of red. I had to bend him somewhat to get him inside the trunk, but once I had him in there I closed the lid.

  When I saw him drive up to the garage, the door had opened without him leaving the car and I figured he had a device of sorts that allowed this to be done. It didn’t take me long to find that he kept it clipped to his sun visor. Once I had the garage door open, I drove out and, having used the device to close the garage door behind me, pulled the car on to the street and headed to Brooklyn.

  I had to backtrack half a dozen times before I was able to find the hidden maze of streets leading to the salvage yard, but eventually I found it and pulled the car up beside the locked gate. I had bolt cutters with me – though I’d bought them so I could search the dumpsters at The Cultured Cannibal, they’d be useful here if needed – but instead of snapping off the padlock securing the gate, I found a rock that weighed about a pound and threw it so it clanged noisily off the metal grate covering the garage bay. I started looking for a larger rock that might make more noise, but that turned out to be unnecessary as the garage bay’s door slid open and three of the members of the clan stepped out. I moved over to the gate so they could see me better, and one of them walked toward me. This clan member was much older than my pa, maybe as old as the elders of my clan, and he looked at me as sternly as one of my clan’s elders might’ve under the same circumstances. He didn’t say anything to me after unlocking the gate. He didn’t need to. It was understood what I was to do, and I got back into the green sedan and drove it into the open garage bay. After the one who must’ve been an elder followed me into the bay, the door was brought down. I got out of the car and walked to the back of it so I could open the trunk. The three clan members gathered around me while I did this, and I noticed the elder nodding appreciatively as he looked down at Ethan squirming helplessly. Jill’s former boyfriend’s eyes grew large as he looked from one clan member to the next. A weak, pleading noise escaped from him. That was all he was capable of, given the gag and all the yelling for help he’d tried doing since I took him.

  They needed him alive for the slaughtering ritual, which was the only reason they kept their true selves masked. Otherwise, Ethan would’ve probably expired from a heart attack. That was why we used burlap sacks – to keep them from seeing us like that. Still, the fear in Ethan’s eyes was something palpable, and seeing it made the cravings dig all that deeper inside me.

  ‘A gift,’ I said to the clan members.

  Without speaking, one of them who was close to my own age left, only to return a minute later with a large burlap sack. The elder and the other clan member lifted Ethan out of the trunk and dumped him into the sack that the younger one held open. Then he flung the sack over his shoulder and carried Ethan away.

  ‘I need you to make this car disappear,’ I said. ‘Can you do that?’

  The elder grunted to indicate that this would happen. He was studying me carefully. ‘You’re a Husk,’ he said, nodding slowly. ‘From the New Hampshire wilderness.’

  This surprised me. A clan that I’d never heard of living secretly in the middle of New York not only knew about my clan but was able to recognize me as a member of it.

  ‘The sign out front calls this the Trundull Salvage Yard. Is that your clan’s name? Trundull?’

  His thick lips compressed into a frown. From the way he looked at me, with such disapproval, I couldn’t help thinking of my pa. Or the elders back home.

  ‘How long has your clan lived here in Brooklyn?’

  ‘Longer than yours has been in New Hampshire.’

  I tried to absorb that. ‘How many do you have in your clan?’

  ‘More than in the Husk clan.’

  This made sense, given how large the salvage yard was and how easy it would be for them to get meat. Because they didn’t have to go on the long dangerous expeditions I had gone on, and my great-uncle Jedidiah before me, they didn’t need to worry about keeping their clan from growing too large. Nor, I imagined, was life as difficult for them as it was for any of the clans hiding in the wilderness.

  ‘Are there other clans like yours living among them in large cities?’

  He stood stone-faced, not caring to answer that question. I found myself growing increasingly nervous as I watched him, and more to break the silence than for any other reason, I asked, ‘Do my elders know about the existence of your clan?’

  ‘Why did you run from us two days ago?’ he demanded, ignoring my question.

  I shook my head and muttered something about having my reasons. That was all I could muster.

  ‘We thought maybe the cravings made you insane and that’s why you ran. But the cravings haven’t got that far in you yet. You ain’t insane. Boy, why’d you run?’

  ‘I didn’t expect to find a clan living here. My elders never told me about you. It surprised me.’

  ‘What do you mean by it “surprised” you? You were searching for us.’

  ‘Not for a whole clan,’ I insisted. ‘Days ago I saw one of you walking on a sidewalk miles from here. I caught only a glimpse of him, but I thought he might be one of my kind who had gotten stranded in this city. That’s who I was searching for.’

  ‘That don’t explain why you ran from us.’

  My mind was buzzing. I still hadn’t figured out the reason, but I needed to tell him something and half heard myself saying, ‘It was partly the cravings. I wasn’t thinking clearly because of them. Mostly, I thought you wouldn’t like me hunting for them in your city once I could get myself a new van.’

  He grunted. The lies I told him seemed to make sense to him.

  ‘You lose your van? That why you still here?’

  ‘It broke down outside New York,’ I said, expanding my lie. ‘I hadn’t started picking them up yet. I was planning to start from New York and work my way back to New Hampshire. When the van died on me, I had to set it on fire so the police wouldn’t find any of the dried blood and other material inside of it. But I’ll be getting another one soon.’

  He grunted again. Apparently, what I said made perfect sense to him. ‘You can’t hunt here,’ he said. ‘Your elders should’ve told you that.’

  The younger one who’d carried away the burlap sack returned, and was holding a small package wrapped in white paper. I had no trouble smelling what was wrapped inside the paper. The elder nodded to him, and the younger one held the package out to me.

  ‘A pound of meat,’ the elder said. ‘It will keep the cravings satisfied until you can return to your home.’

  I shook my head. It made no sense that I was turning down his offer, since I came here hoping I’d get properly slaughtered and prepared meat in exchange for Ethan. It was true that, although I wanted Ethan to disappear since I didn’t want to leave his body for the police, I also wanted that meat. With Jill gone until Sunday night I’d be able to cook it up in her kitchen, and a pound of meat would keep the cravings content for possibly another two weeks, which would allow me to put off committing that sickening act with that girl named Annabelle. I was confused as to why I was refusing the meat that I so desperately wanted, but no more so than the elder and the other two clan members. At least at first. Then a glimmer showed in the elder’s eyes, and his expression became one of scorn.

  ‘You fell in love with one of them,’ he said, his mouth convulsing as if he had something abhorrent to spit out. ‘You think you can live as they do. But you can’t. The cravings won’t allow it.’

  I shook my head, denying what he was saying, even though it was mostly true. But I had found a way to be able to live with Jill while satisfying the cravings. If I told him about how thei
r blood fed the cravings as much as their meat did, and how I’d found one of them who was going to willingly let me drink her blood, this elder and the other clan members would’ve been so outraged that they would’ve torn me apart and buried me deep in their salvage yard. I didn’t dare turn my back on them. I took a step backwards, toward the door, and continued to shake my head.

  The elder had taken the package from the younger clan member and shook it angrily at me.

  ‘What you want to do is an abomination,’ he spat out. ‘It’s unnatural to think of them as existing for anything other than the one purpose they serve. Don’t be a fool any longer. You need this meat. The cravings demand it.’

  I kept shaking my head as I took more steps backwards. The two younger clan members were tensing as if they planned to charge me. I prayed they would stay where they were. Up close I could see how powerfully built they were. If they came after me I’d have to fight them, and I didn’t like my chances, not against three of them.

  ‘What if you magically found a way to stop the cravings in yourself,’ the elder asked, ‘but had babies who took after you instead of the mother? How would you explain their appetite? Have you thought of that?’

  I had thought about that ever since I realized I was hopelessly in love with Jill. But I continued to shake my head while I stepped backwards toward the door. The younger clan member looked questioningly at the elder, but the elder shook his head.