by Ted Hill
He turned back and found Henry taking a spot at the window that must have been reserved for him. “What happens next?”
“One of us is chosen.”
“Chosen for what?” Hunter asked as other faces stared back from the opposite side of the windows, and Hunter knew. This building housed a meat market filled with a selection of cold cuts, and the lunchtime crowd had just arrived.
The tall gangly kid with the oily hair passed by the first window and Hunter’s mind grappled with recognition, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure. By the second window, the percentages rose. The kid had grown two feet taller since Hunter had beat the hell out of him and then Patrick banished him into the wilderness.
“Tommy the Perv!”
Tommy came to a halt, turning his head at the sound of his name. His smile revealed horrible pointy teeth. Black, dilated pupils absorbed every inch of Hunter. Then Tommy pointed.
Henry gasped. “You’ve been chosen.”
Hunter trembled with one part rage and two parts terror. “Yeah, I’m lucky like that.”
Nine
Hunter
The crowd on this side of the window gave a collective sigh. Hunter watched the cannibal children leave the window outside and move to the street. Only Tommy the Perv remained. He looked hungry, licking his lips and smacking his chops. Like the demon that controlled Wesley, Tommy’s teeth were sharpened into tiny, unnatural points.
Tommy knocked on the glass, signaling for Hunter to come outside like they had a play date scheduled and Hunter was bringing the snacks. Creepy Tommy didn’t scare Hunter, but those six little kids out there made him want to run and huddle in the back. What could possibly turn them into hideous killing machines? How do you hurt kids, even ones that want to eat you for dinner?
Hunter considered his newfound invincibility. How was that working, and how many bites could he surrender before the portions ran out?
The scared kids of Cozad, unable to stand at the window looking at Tommy and the six, turned away without making eye contact with Hunter, like he no longer existed.
“Henry?” Hunter said. “Do you guys have transportation?”
“We have a bus if we could get to it, but the battery needs charging.”
“Great.”
“So what’s the plan?” Barbie asked. Her narrowed eyes fixed on Tommy, showing she intended to go with Hunter. He hoped this might work out after all.
“What are you bringing to the party?”
Electricity crackled around the tips of her fingers. “Watch and see.”
“Maybe I should do that from in here.”
“I wasn’t chosen.”
Hunter wished he’d looked around the grain elevator for the rifle before they left. “Do you have any guns in here?” he asked Henry.
“No. We kept them locked up, but they all disappeared when that guy showed up.”
Hunter rolled his sore shoulder and popped his neck. “Fine, let’s do it then.”
He moved toward the door and grabbed a broom leaning against the wall. The thick handle felt heavy and comforting. Before he opened the door, he stomped down and snapped the head off, leaving a jagged edge. He smiled at his pathetic weapon even as he grabbed the door handle with a shaky hand.
“Don’t worry, Michael,” Barbie said. “God is with us.”
“I hope so.” Hunter pulled the entrance open and walked into the sunlight.
Tommy had moved away and towered over the children gathered around him, like a deranged babysitter. They all looked confident and hungry. It was the hungry part that had Hunter calculating the run to his hidden motorbike.
Beads of sweat ran down his back and each step felt like he dragged a pair of concrete shoes. Hunter stopped twenty feet away and Barbie pulled up beside him. He wished the sky was filled with clouds, maybe a giant thunderhead, so Barbie could work some serious magic and end this quick with one bolt of lightning, but all he saw was pure blue. It would have been a beautiful day if not for the six drooling kids and the perv.
Tommy cocked his head. “I know you.”
“We met once, back in Denver. You were putting your hands on my brother’s girl.”
Tommy’s chuckle rang hollow in the space between the store fronts on Main Street, Cozad. “I’ve done that to lots of girls.” He sounded like he was talking through a pipe. “What made your brother’s girl so special?”
“She was the last one in Denver before Patrick kicked you out.” Hunter hefted the broomstick to his shoulder. “I beat your ass right before that.”
Tommy wiped the corner of his mouth with a solitary finger. “She was your sister?”
“That was a cover story.”
Tommy tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, moving them sideways to stare at Barbie. “You will not stop us, little sister.”
“I’m not your sister.”
“I wasn’t referring to our relationship, only to your higher calling. It will satisfy me greatly to savor your flesh, in more ways than you can imagine.”
“All right, dude. Number one, gross, and number two, she’s not your type.”
“Everyone is my type.” Tommy looked at the two little boys and a girl on his left. They returned his gaze with eager anticipation. Tommy closed his eyes and nodded. They sprang from their spots and rushed Hunter and Barbie, howling, with tiny hands stretched out like claws.
Hunter stepped back and gripped the broom handle tightly, trying to figure out who to stick first and whether he should even do it.
Barbie stepped forward, hands sizzling at her sides with white balls of hot fire. The light show did not deter the kids from the tempting meal. Barbie shot low and thin electrical bolts struck their knees. The current climbed their bodies, turning their eyes into white orbs. Realization struck their faces that dinner plans had changed. They dropped to the ground in spasms.
Hunter gagged and tried hard to keep from screaming and throwing up at the same time. Those poor kids didn’t deserve to be roasted either.
Barbie looked back at all the noise Hunter was making, sensing the reason for his discomfort. “They’re just unconscious,” she told him. “But they will wake up. You better finish this quick.”
Hunter wiped his forehead and pointed. The other three kids had been unleashed and were almost upon Barbie. She sidestepped the closest and the girl flew into Hunter, bowling him over, snapping her teeth at his throat. The stick clattered out of his hands and across the pavement as he fought to keep the girl from biting him. He grabbed both sides of her head. Her fingernails raked his arms, searching for his face, while her knees pummeled him down below.
Hunter rolled and carried the girl over onto her back. Quickly he pushed up, but the moment he released her head she bit into his wrist. Hunter screamed and tried to yank free. The girl reached up and slapped his face, raking her fingernails across his cheek. Hunter pushed his free hand against her face. She took the bait and bit his other hand.
Then Barbie knelt beside him and touched the crazy cannibal’s small head. An electric pulse rippled through her, causing the unfortunate reaction of chomping on Hunter’s hand before she fell unconscious.
Hunter backed away and tripped over one of the other five kids sprawled on the street. He scrambled away in panic as pain burned his hands. He regained his feet and inspected his wounds as they started to heal. Glancing up, he remembered Tommy, but the perv had not moved from his spot. Barbie retrieved Hunter’s lost stick.
Tommy smiled.
“Quit screwing around and zap this asshole!”
Barbie tossed the stick at Hunter. He caught it, wincing because he half expected his hands to hurt. They didn’t.
“He’s different. It only works on the innocent.”
“So what are you saying?”
“This is your fight, Michael. It’s why you’re here.”
Hunter looked from her to Tommy. Tommy’s smile widened. Hunter looked back at Barbie. “You’re not making any sense. I’m nobody. Just some d
umb kid who got his brother killed. This is some kind of freaky, supernatural shit. I mean, look at this dude! He grew two feet in four months and didn’t have sense enough to find clothes that fit.”
“Michael, you didn’t get your brother killed.”
His anger swept him away for an instant. “Stop calling me that! My name is Hunter!”
Barbie placed her hands on her hips. “You didn’t get your brother killed. He died so you could be reborn as God intended.”
“Bullshit!”
Barbie marched over the unconscious kids in her path and got right up in Hunter’s face. “You are too good to use language like that!” She rocked onto her tiptoes, wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, and kissed him hard on the lips. “Now go kick his ass!”
Barbie stepped around him without another glance, leaving nothing but the cracked pavement between Hunter and Tommy, the very hungry looking perv. Hunter hefted the stick in his hands, trying to find the passion to fight, but all his anger had fled after rolling around on the ground with the possessed girl biting his hands. A steady dose of horror and revulsion filled him, but not a willingness to throw down. That was not good. Without anger fueling him, Hunter could pretty much kiss his chances goodbye.
He took a deep breath, wishing Tommy would say something to piss him off. Tommy stood there flexing his fingers and licking his lips. Hunter looked elsewhere for strength. The six little kids frightened him. His sight swept over the unconscious group and settled on the girl who bit him.
Her breaths came in rapid pants, like she suffered from an overactive jolt of energy that even in sleep wasn’t enough to slow her down. She wore a thin summer dress covered with a yellow flower print. Her small feet were dirty and bare. Traces of Hunter’s blood smattered her lips. Her hands were perfectly small, curled up next to her face as if any moment she would fold them together and pray.
Tommy chuckled, deep and hollow. Hunter felt a spike of what he needed.
“You like her, don’t you?” Tommy said. “If you join me in the feast, I will let you have her, if you know what I mean.”
Madness swelled in Hunter. He gripped the stick and ran, jagged point leading the charge. He screamed as he sprinted down the street, with Tommy waiting to receive him. Hunter pushed ahead and met empty air where he hoped a skewering impact would take place, but Tommy spun out of the way and chopped Hunter in the back of the neck. Hunter hit the ground and skidded over the pavement on his chest.
Tommy leaped on top of Hunter and clawed his back, cackling like a loon. Each rip of flesh through Hunter’s shirt sent searing pain as Tommy flayed him open.
Tommy gripped Hunter’s hair. “This used to be shorter,” the perv said, reflecting on the last time they met. “Your sister had the big boobs, didn’t she?”
Hunter bucked. “She’s not my sister!”
Tommy held on strong and rode him out. His other hand stretched in front of Hunter’s face. Long, dark fingernails, with who knew what underneath, dropped towards Hunter’s throat. Tommy’s hot, rancid breath fanned the back of Hunter’s neck.
“I’m going to drain your blood right here for your little saint to see. Then I’m going to eat her too.”
The dark fingernails flicked. Hunter jerked his head forward and then rammed backward. He felt the solid crunch of something soft.
Tommy screamed, standing up. Hunter scrambled for the stick, rolled up, and found Tommy holding his busted, bleeding nose. He rushed forward, but instead of trying the impaling trick again, he hit the brakes and swung. The broom staff smashed against Tommy’s head. Quickly, Hunter spun the staff around and crashed it on the other side of Tommy, right in the hip. Then it was a one-sided sword fight, swinging at random targets, with Tommy trying to guess where the staff was headed next and always protecting the wrong spot.
Tommy would not go down and Hunter found himself slowing from exhaustion. Then Tommy got it right. He caught the staff and yanked it from Hunter’s hands.
Tommy staggered on his feet, holding Hunter’s weapon. Hunter wavered, out of breath and energy. The staff blurred in Tommy’s thrust and the broomstick pierced Hunter’s stomach. Tommy yanked the staff out and Hunter knew his intestines followed as his stomach burned. He hoped his invincibility was about to kick in because the pain exploded into his brain and he cried in anguish, falling to the ground and waiting, waiting…
Tommy scuffled over. “You almost had me there, but not quite…”
A brick flew by and smashed Tommy in the face, followed by more rocks and debris. A dozen angry voices yelled threats. He hoped Scout had come to save him with a group from Independents. Jimmy would be mad. Hunter lifted his head, but his eyesight blurred the small forms rushing at Tommy. His head bounced off the pavement as he remembered something important before fading out.
Jimmy was dead.
Ten
Molly
Mark followed her through Independents. It was really kind of sweet, but Molly hoped he didn’t expect to make it a habit. It would be inconvenient when she had to use the outhouse or wanted to take a bath or, God forbid, have “cuddle time” with her boyfriend.
At least her twin brother didn’t object to her relationship anymore since Hunter had proven himself worthy. Molly smiled. She was the one who had to prove to everyone in Independents that she was good enough after her betrayal involving Catherine’s kidnapping last November. But Catherine had made Molly good again. And that was enough.
Molly stopped at the corner of a street. Mark walked right into her and barely had time to catch her before she fell.
“Mark, really, I’m fine. Catherine said that the hellhounds only come out at night.”
“Yeah, well, what if something else is out here to get you? I’m not taking any chances.”
“I don’t even know why Catherine thinks they were after me. I’m nothing special. Not like the chickens and pigs they killed before finding us. They could have been going after Sam.”
“Why would they go after Sam?”
She sat on the curb and retied her shoe. “He’s the one that feeds this town now. Without him, I don’t think the other kids working in the field would know what to plant where and when it’s time to harvest.” She stood and brushed off the back of her jeans. “Besides, the dogs bit him first.”
Mark raised an eyebrow and rested his hands on his hips.
Molly shook her head. “At least go home and put some clothes on. Those boxer shorts aren’t leaving a lot to the imagination. Vanessa is going to have your butt. Plus, you’re starting to draw a crowd.”
Mark followed Molly’s line of sight to the group of little girls dismally failing to hide behind a bush at the house across the street. They pointed and giggled until they noticed that Mark had spotted them and then they scattered every which way.
Mark adjusted his boxers and blushed. “Let’s head over to my place so I can change, then we’ll go to breakfast. It might be a long time before we eat ham and eggs again.”
“I have something else to do.”
“What?”
Molly pointed. “I’m going over to talk with Catherine. She took off way too fast before I could ask her why she thought the hellhounds were after me. I want to get to the bottom of this.”
“She was being a little spooky talking to the air and stuff.”
“Yeah, there’s that too.” Molly glanced over Mark’s shoulder. “They’re back.”
Mark spun around. The girls had regrouped behind a tree a couple houses down. “There’s nothing to see here! Move along!”
They disbanded in a confused pattern again. Squeals of glee rattled off the surrounding houses. One named Emma held her ground and gave a wolf whistle.
Mark turned back, even redder in the face.
“I’ve always liked Emma,” Molly said. “She’s going to be trouble when she’s older.”
Mark frowned. “Going to be?” He hitched his shorts up higher, which didn’t help his situation. He sighed heavily. “All right,
you go see Catherine. I’ll run home, change, and check in with Vanessa. Then I’ll come over and escort you all to breakfast.”
“Aren’t you watching David today?”
“I’ll ask Reese to babysit. Just plan on having me around until we get this settled.”
“But, Mark…”
“End of discussion. If you want, I’ll just lock you up again.” A smile spread across his face, but Molly knew he wasn’t joking.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re not funny.”
“David thinks I’m a riot when I stick veggies in my nose.”
“I’ll see you in a bit. Go put some clean underwear on, please.”
“What are you talking about?” Mark said, twisting around for a better look at the back of his shorts.
Molly covered her eyes. “Mark, you’re poking out!”
The little girls started hooting and clapping from the corner house on the street.
Emma hollered, “That a boy!”
Mark ran for home.
* * *
Molly walked up to Ginger’s house that had become her home away from home. The yellow paint glowed in the morning sunlight like a warm pot of honey. Flowerbeds filled the yard in patterns and swirls, perfectly maintained and full of life and color. Bees busied themselves dipping into petals here and there, having found their personal Shangri-La for harvesting nectar to return to the hive. The smells were intoxicating.
Whispering came from the porch and Molly noticed the swing creaking back and forth on its metal chains. She stopped beneath the green shade of Ginger’s pear tree to eavesdrop, wondering who would be talking so quietly.