by Meyer, Tim
“What happened to your leg?” Brenda asked.
He examined it again and noticed it was slightly more raw than it had been at first glance. “I was dumb. Didn't realize I was sleeping near the window. Must've rolled over into the light.”
“Well try to go back to sleep, okay? It's not even noon yet.”
He told her he'd try, but no guarantees.
When he closed his eyes, all he saw was fire.
-4-
The figure wiped the bloody dribble from her upper lip. Placing his fingertip on his tongue, he sucked. The psychopath closed his eyes, enjoying her fluids. She shivered, disgusted with the man and her current situation.
“Ever drink from someone before?” the man asked.
He was practically a boy compared to her. A vicious boy. A wild boy. Raised by wolves, if she had to guess.
“Giving me the silent treatment?” he asked. “I don't like it when I ask a question and don't receive an answer. You want to know what it makes me want to do?”
Brenda raised her eyes from the floor and glared at the kid who had introduced himself as Malek. Before she could open her mouth, his backhand collided with her cheek. Her head snapped sideways, and she swore something tore in her neck. Something syrupy trickled down her chin as tears tumbled down her cheeks.
“You didn't like that, did you?” Malek asked. “Didn't like that at all from the looks of things.”
Her eyes pleaded with the bald man in the corner, the one they called Rollins. He averted his eyes elsewhere.
“You're very pretty,” Malek continued. “It would be a shame to ruin something so beautiful. But if you don't cooperate, you'll leave me no choice. And there's nothing I hate more than ruining a beautiful thing.”
Brenda forced herself to look at him. “What do you want from me?” she choked out.
“There are several things I could use from someone like you.” His eyes drifted, surveying her body, taking time to appreciate her womanly parts. He ran his finger across her bare shoulder. There were many bare spots; her shirt had ripped in several places when she resisted being captured. “But right now, I want you to answer a few questions.”
Unable to prevent the tears from flowing freely, Brenda nodded.
“Where did you come from?”
“I already told you...”
The backhand was heavier the second time around.
“Don't lie to me, bitch.”
“I came from the suburbs...”
The third time wasn't as bad because the force from the second lingered.
“I got separated from my family...”
Malek raised his hand for a fourth time, but stopped because her beauty was becoming lost beneath the bruises and streaks of blood. Instead, he grabbed her cheek and squeezed.
“I know this means something to you. I can tell by the way you held it,” Malek said, clenching his teeth together, dangling the trinket in front of her. He looked rabid, like a true animal. He forced a wicked smile. “I'm going to hold onto it until you start becoming a little more truthful. Got it?”
“You bastard...” she sighed. “Don't you have better things to do than abuse women?”
Malek wanted to tell her that he really didn't, not today, but refrained from doing so. Instead he pushed her head away and spat on her. He watched with disgusted satisfaction as the saliva dripped down her forehead, missing her eyes by mere centimeters.
“I can't wait to taste your intestines. I might even cook them... slowly.”
Before she could voice her frustration with a series of expletives, new figures entered the room.
“Jesus Christ, brother,” Carp muttered. He took one glance at the captive woman and shook his head. “Do you ever take a break from being an asshole?”
Malek turned to see two familiar shadows.
“My siblings,” Malek said, without glee.
“Mark...” Carp pleaded. “I think you need a break. You're starting to look... not so well.”
“Perhaps I need to eat.”
“Perhaps.” Carp winced. “But not here.”
Malek looked at his brother oddly. “You've been acting quite strange lately, brother. Tell me... when's the last time you ate?”
Carp's eyes shifted. “Just yesterday. Why do you ask?”
“No reason...” His eyes fell on the other figure. “Well, look who has returned from her little voyage. I trust our friends at Costbusters treated you cordially?”
Lilah nodded. “They were... very nice people.”
“Didn't get attached to them, did we?”
Lilah shook her head. “No, brother. Why would I?”
Malek shrugged. “You never know. Humanity has such endearing qualities. Didn't want you to fall prey to their amiable features. I know how enticing it is to go back to being human. But you must remember, we are past that point now. It's our time to reign. It's our time to—”
“Mark, please. Ca n you cut it out? I've had about enough,” Carp spoke, staring his brother directly in the eyes, a challenging gaze Malek did not seem to appreciate. “I think we need some... time. To think about things.”
“You're changing!” Malek shouted. “You are sympathizing with them! I expected it from her, Carp, but not from you.”
“Knock it off.”
“Are you going to betray us, brother?”
“Mark, I'm warning you—”
Something conked Carp on the back of the head and the kid's body went limp, collapsing on the floor. Malek smiled as two figures wearing robes rolled the unconscious body over. Lilah backed away to let her brother's hoodlums tend to Carp. They dragged him from the room, Rollins following, and Lilah found herself alone with her brother and his plaything.
“Who's the woman?” she asked.
“Just my new toy. You like?”
Lilah shrugged. “Not one for toys. It's beneath me.”
Ignoring her barb, Malek raised his brow. “Well? How'd it go?”
Lilah bit her cuticles. “Fine. It's as we thought it was. Exactly how our prisoner described it. They have a lot supplies. Food. Water. Generators. Necessities. Things we'll need to survive, I'm guessing. I mean, we won't be able to live off humans forever. Right, brother?”
“You have too much of Carp in you.”
Lilah smiled. “Just being realistic here.”
“Let's talk about the invasion.”
Brenda's ears perked up, suddenly interested.
“Place will be cakewalk. I mean, they have us outnumbered, but only a handful of them pose any threat. Some woman who used to be cop is probably the most dangerous one there. Some ex-Navy asshole, but he's more of a danger to himself than he is to us. Other than that, no one there is really trained.”
“They have firearms?”
“A few. But there's a bit of a revolution going on inside. Their previous leader is becoming an outcast. There's this new guy. His name is Soren. Seems pretty smart. Knows how to throw a coup, that's for sure.”
“Think he poses a threat?” Malek asked.
Lilah shrugged. “Hard to say. I think he's more of a talker than a doer.”
“Very well. You did good, little sister. Mama and Papa would be very proud of you.”
“I somehow doubt that... Mark.”
Malek sneered. “You know how that name makes me feel. That was my human name. And as you know, we are much more than that now.”
“Yeah. I remember,” Lilah said, turning her back.
“When our brother awakes from his little nap, we need to have a little family pow-wow. Agreed?”
Lilah didn't answer.
“Little bitch,” Malek muttered beneath his breath. “Rollins! Guards! Please take Miss Gaines back to her cell! I'm done looking at her pathetic visage!”
The two robed shapes entered with haste. “Master!” one said, sounding out of breath.
“What is it?” Malek snapped.
“We found intruders. Two of them.”
Malek's skin whitened. “
Where are they?”
“Near the cages.”
“I want to see them at once.” Malek smiled, flashing his dangerously-pointy mouth. “I'm starving.”
-5-
2 WEEKS AGO
Father Morton rested on the first pew, barely able to move. The sun had done a number on him, and the church's last two survivors could barely stand the sight of him. Boils and pockets of pus that had burst riddled his skin. Leprous lesions covered his appendages. The skin on his hands had melted down to the bone. Somehow—neither Bob nor Brenda knew how—the priest remained alive.
Weeks before his brave journey outside, the others had fled, unable to cope with the “cabin fever” spreading throughout the church. They left during the night and never returned. The priest refused to leave the safety God provided, informing everyone that “The Almighty” would watch over him, giveth him the protection that nothing else could supply. Those weeks passed, and the good father changed his tune. Until the moment he walked into the day, he believed God would grant him access into the wondrous sunlight. That because he was devout, the new nature would not affect him as it had others.
Both Bob and Brenda warned the preacher that he should learn from the others, and not walk outside while the sun burned brightly.
“God takes care of His own,” Father Morton replied, before opening the doors and letting in the light.
He traveled five feet before his flesh started cooking, smoking and crackling like fatty meats on the grill. Bob raced outside to grab him and drag him inside where the sun could no longer reach him. Of course, it was too late; the damage had been done. Any exposed skin had bubbled and blistered and started to liquefy.
The preacher hadn't spoken much since that day. A few times he asked for water. It was hard to understand him through the hoarse wheezing sounds of his lungs. Sometimes, the only way they knew the man was still alive was by watching his chest rise and fall. Bob thought he'd die that very same day. Brenda was more optimistic. The two almost started betting on who would be right, but then thought that to be cruel and sadistic.
Before the preacher's chest rose for the last time, he whispered to them. Bob and Brenda walked over casually, although tempted to remain far away from his diminished state.
“This... is... what...” Father Morton croaked. “God... wants...”
Bob and Brenda exchanged the same haunted glance, then watched his body surrender to death.
Things changed once Father Morton expired. Brenda started going on about her kids, swearing they were still alive and that they should look for them.
“We're running out of food,” she argued. “That vending machine is all we have. Can't live off stale popcorn forever.”
“We can't leave, honey. You saw what happened to those people. You saw what happen to Father Morton.”
“We leave at night. Like the others. They haven't come back. They're probably okay!” The cheeriness in her voice concerned Bob, but instead of mentioning it he nodded and agreed for the sake of agreeing.
“We'll figure something out, sweetheart. I just don't think we know enough to go running out there. It's too dangerous right now. When the time is right—”
“Listen to yourself. You're starting to sound like a man I used to know.”
“Oh yeah? Who's that?”
“I'll give you a hint,” she said, turning her back to him. “I divorced him.”
“Brenda, don't you dare—”
“He'd always have an excuse for not doing something, Bob. He'd promise things and never come through for me. For us. For our family. That's what I loved about you. You never broke a promise. Not once.”
Bob hung his head. “Brenda, I just don't think it's a good idea.”
She rested on her makeshift mattress. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say.”
He awoke that night alone. Scrambling to his feet, he called for his wife. No answer. He ran through the darkness toward the altar, where he found a candle. Once ignited, Bob and the candle rushed toward the back of the church. As he neared, the air grew colder.
“Oh, shit. No. Please. God.”
Sure enough, the back door was wide open. He didn't think she'd do it, although the thought had lingered in his mind for quite a while. He had fallen asleep that night comfortable with the way the discussion ended, thinking that leaving on her own was too crazy, even in her current state of mind. Never underestimate the mind of a mother, some inner voice warned, much too late.
Packing a flashlight, filling the Camelbak she left behind with water and the few remaining munchies from the snack machine, he set off after her. Traveling beneath the moon proved strange; odd noises filled the air, night creatures, he assumed, singing their nocturnal hymns. He wondered if animals had been affected by the sun the same way as humans. He argued both sides. On one side, they lived on the same planet and had similar chemical properties, so he figured their flesh could burn just as easily. During his walk, he didn't see any torched corpses representing members of the animal kingdom. Plenty of people, but no animals. He thought maybe because animal skin was thicker, that maybe it had some sort of natural resistance. Or maybe they took longer to burn. Or maybe they didn't burn at all.
He pushed these theories out of his mind, remaining focused on the current task—finding his wife. He knew where she would go: the house. It was only a nine-mile hike away and it would take her an hour, maybe less if she sprinted. He picked up his pace, jogging down the middle of the abandoned street, wondering what creatures were watching him from the shadows. Or people. He wondered why they hadn't gone home in the last three months. It was, after all, not very far from the church. Because you were scared shitless. That's why. Good point, he told himself. The world had changed overnight, and he wasn't about to dip his toes in uncharted waters. Now he had no choice but to submerge himself in the new world. Love propelled him. Fear fought to slow him down.
After a few miles, he came across a broken down car in the middle of the road. Upon closer inspection, he saw it had been gutted. Poking his head through the open window, he quickly retreated after an old sour milk smell made him want to vomit. He looked around. No one in sight. The night had grown surprisingly quiet—even the crickets had stopped chirping. He looked further down the road, spotted the Carver's Grove Zoo, and the debate about the survival rate of the animals came to him again. Curiosity bested him and he decided to head towards the park and have himself a quick glance from the outside. It was on the way home anyway. In all likelihood, Brenda hadn't reached home yet.
If she's heading home...
Where else would she go?
Her asshole ex-husband's? She needs to find her kids, remember?
She'd go home first. Get the car. He was sure of it.
Halfway down the street, Bob could finally make out the letters in the archway above the zoo's entrance. That's when the voices started. He looked around, unable to pinpoint their location. Scared, he took off, killing the flashlight in his right hand. Ducking behind a parked vehicle that had also been broken into, he watched. Two figures wearing black hoodies that made them blend in with the darkness strolled past him. The only noticeable difference between the two was the color of their shoes.
“Yo, Malek is trippin',” Blue-Shoes said. “You seen how many people he's keeping in those cages?”
“It's food, dumbass,” Green-Shoes replied. “We'll eat them eventually. You'll see.”
“Yo, can I admit something to you?” Blue asked.
“What?” Green-Shoes stopped and rested his back on the car Bob hid behind.
“I don't like the taste of meat.”
Green-Shoes shook his head. “You, dumbass.”
“I'm serious, yo! I ain't buying into all this cannibalism bullshit. It's not right.”
“It tastes exactly the same as the old meat.”
“Nuh-uh. People taste... I don't know, man. Fucking weird. I can't do it anymore. I'm going to kill one of the deer-thingys tonight and cook me one of them. Eat some real
meat for once.”
“Deer-thingys? You mean the fucking antelope? First off, Crocodile Dundee, there's hardly any meat on those bones. Secondly, Malek will fucking kill you when he finds out you don't like meat.”
“Who the fuck is Malek to decide what I like and don't like? Huh? Who the hell put him charge anyway?”
“Oh, Damien. You weren't there the first week after the Burn. Were you?”
“No... but I've heard the stories.”
“You haven't seen what Malek is capable of.”
Damien shrugged. Green-Shoes laughed.
“No. But I've heard...”
“Heard what? That he killed the zookeepers that were running this place? Slaughtered them like lambs?”
“Yeah. That's what I heard.”
“They didn't listen to him. They opposed him. Called him crazy.”
“Well, he is fucking crazy. Ain't he?”
“Yeah... but, he's also smart.”
“He ain't fucking smart. He's a fucking junkie who likes to eat people. What's so smart about that? That sounds fucking crazy to me. Since when do we have to live like animals? Why can't we... go back to the way things were?”
Green-Shoes stood up straight. “I'm sure Malek won't like to hear what you had to say about him.”
Damien raised his hands. “No, no. We was just talkin', that's all. I didn't mean anything by it.”
“Just talking, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Near the zoo's entrance, a woman screamed, her voice desperate and shrill. Green-Shoes and Damien snapped their heads toward the commotion. Two other hooded figures called to them. “Come help us with this bitch!” one of them yelled. The other followed up with, “We got ourselves another meatbag! She pretty, too!”