by Chelsea Luna
A cage made from elm was constructed on the beach. The structure was almost as tall as a one-story house and would comfortably fit fifteen humans. It looked like a giant birdcage. The wood was slatted, so you could stick your hands out, and a long, thick chain with an industrial padlock hinged the door closed.
“I’m not going in there,” Lindsay whispered.
“Don’t bring attention to yourself,” Nicky said. “Keep quiet.”
Beside the empty cell was a knee-high pile of yellowed-weathered bones. Human bones. Nicky started to count the skulls, but stopped when he reached twenty-seven.
“Toss your weapons to the sand,” Tom ordered. “Don’t try to hide any. We’re going to search you. Let’s keep this as amicable as possible.”
“Amicable, my ass,” Nicky sputtered.
“How can you do this?” Adam asked. “What’s wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing’s wrong with us,” Tom said. “I have a family to feed. There are no more fish in the lake and, even though everyone here loves the outdoors, it just so happens there’s only one real hunter among us. There are thirty-three in our group. Josh can’t hunt enough game for thirty-three people and I don’t see a Publix around here. Do you? How do you expect us to eat? To live?”
“That gives you the right to eat people?” Rachel’s face was hard.
She was about to go kung fu on their asses, but Adam laid a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m hungry,” Tom said. “My kid’s hungry. There’s no food. It’s the end of the world and I don’t feel like starving to death. Now, toss down that baseball bat.”
“No.”
“We can eat you first, if you’d like, Blondie. You look tasty.”
Adam snatched the bat from Rachel’s hand and threw it to the sand.
“Adam!”
Adam shook his head at her. He reached into his waistband and threw his gun down, too.
Nicky tossed his axe. He wanted to crack Tom’s skull, but Adam had made the right move. The others surrendered their weapons—even Dean’s badass, bulletless AK-47 was piled near the shore.
Tom and a frumpy blonde woman patted them down before ceremoniously walking them into the cage like cattle ready to be slaughtered. The frumpy blonde grabbed Nicky’s arm and wrote the number six on the back of his hand with a permanent marker. The mark stood side by side with his stupid old gang tattoo of a star enclosed in a triangle.
“What in the hell is this?” Nicky asked.
“You’ll see,” she said. “Move along.”
Tom padlocked the door after Nicky.
Lindsay sobbed. “This can’t be happening. They can’t eat us.”
“We’ll find a way out of here,” Adam said quietly. “Don’t panic.”
“How?” Dean slammed his palm against the bars. “There are thirty of them. We’re in a goddamn cage, for crying out loud, without any weapons.”
Rachel moved along the cell, systematically pulling at the wood. The number three was marked on the back of her hand.
Tom plucked Nicky’s fire axe from the weapon pile. He ran his thumb across the blade with a sharp whistle.
Douche-bag.
Nicky turned away. You really couldn’t give cannibals any lip—they’d just gnaw on your leg. He was going mad in here. The cell’s confinement brought back all the bad memories of the month he’d spent in juvy for breaking and entering. He paced back and forth until he noticed Finn. Crap. He’d forgotten how scared the kid probably was.
Finn sat on the ground fiddling with the rubber on the bottom of his shoe.
Nicky sat in front of him. “You all right?”
“If being on a cannibal’s menu is all right, then I’m super.”
Nicky chuckled. “We’re not going to die.”
“We might,” Finn said.
“We’ll find a way out. We always do.”
Finn shook his head. “You and I should’ve known they were cannibals.”
“I know.”
“Something was off,” Finn said. “You can’t trust people during the zombie apocalypse.”
“I hear ya.” Nicky glanced at Lindsay weeping into Cage’s shoulder. “Give me zombies over humans any day.”
~ ~ ~
“Lindsay, you have to calm down,” Cage said. “Look at me. Stop crying.” His shirt was soaked through at the collar, but she showed no signs of stopping.
Adam and Rachel whispered in the corner. Hopefully, they were masterminding some brilliant plan to get them out of here, because Cage had nothing. How were they going to break out of this human-holding cell and escape on foot in the middle of the woods from thirty cannibals who had weapons and vehicles?
“Linds, stop crying, now.” Cage gently shook her shoulders. Snot dripped from her nose.
“I don’t want them to—”
“Shh…” Cage said. “Nobody wants to be eaten alive, okay? Look around. No one else is crying. Pull it together.”
Lindsay wiped her forearm across her face. “Don’t yell at me.”
“Sorry, but you need to pull it together.”
“Fine, what do you want me to do?”
“Keep calm,” Cage said. “You’re stronger than you think, Linds. That girl from high school is gone. You can do this.” He squeezed her hand before he walked away.
They needed to find a way out of here and, if anyone was going to do that, it was Rachel and Adam. Cage walked over to them, but he stopped by to check on Dean and Monica. She was hunched over. Her face was sweaty and pale.
“Is she in a lot of pain from the sprained ankle?” Cage asked.
Dean avoided Cage’s eyes. “I guess.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
“What can you do for her?” Dean asked bitterly. “We’re trapped in a cell.”
“Chill, dude,” Nicky said. “He’s just trying to help.”
“Feel better, Monica.” Cage went to Rachel and Adam. They watched Tom and a handful of others congregate around a giant fire pit.
Cage’s jaw slid open. “Is that where—?”
“Yep,” Rachel said. “Like a giant pig roast.”
Adam threw her a look.
“What? It’s true.” She held up her hand. The number three was written in black ink over her faint green veins. “What do you make of the numbers?”
“Lotto?” Cage suggested.
“That’s what we think, too,” Adam said. “The lucky winner gets to be devoured first.”
“How are we breaking out of here?” Cage asked.
“We need that key.” Rachel pointed to the chubby blonde named Dottie who herded them into the cage. She was Tom’s wife, and the key to the cell’s padlock was around her neck.
Dottie was busy writing something at the picnic table while the others stood around the fire. All of the happy-go-lucky RVers avoided eye contact with them. It was as if they didn’t exist.
“Something’s happening,” Rachel whispered.
Dottie put something into a hat. Tom’s friendly grin as he approached made every muscle in Cage’s body tense. He’d never wanted to cause someone so much physical harm.
“We’re not barbarians,” Tom said. “Only survivalists.”
“Survivalists, my ass, Porky,” Nicky said.
“If I were a barbarian, I’d kill you right now because you’re a pain in my ass. I’m only doing this to feed my family and my community.”
“You’re so noble.” Rachel squeezed the bars until her knuckles went white. “When I get out of here, I am going to bash your—”
“Silence. Time to pick—it’s been over forty-eight hours since we’ve last eaten. One person for thirty plus is hardly enough. We have to conserve our food supply because we never know when the next group will stumble upon us.”
Dottie reached inside the hat and pulled out a piece of paper. She slowly unfolded it. Dottie’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. She handed the paper to Tom.
A trickle of sweat ran down Cage’s back.
“Number five,” he said.
Cage checked the back of his hand—the number two—and then quickly at Rachel. She was number three. He didn’t have the chance to check anyone else’s number because Lindsay yelped. It was a high-screeching noise that didn’t sound human. Cage’s breath caught in his throat.
A black number five was painted across the back of Lindsay’s hand. Tom picked up Adam’s gun from the weapons pile. “Dottie, honey, open the cell.”
“Lindsay!” Nicky threw his arms around her. Her knees buckled and he caught her before she slid to the ground.
“Come on, pretty lady.” Tom opened the cell door. “We’ll say a prayer for you, Number Five.”
Nicky whirled around. “If you lay your filthy hands on—”
“You’ll close your mouth.” Tom pointed the gun at Finn’s forehead. “Come on, or I’ll put a bullet in the head of every single person in this cell starting with this kid. My people will feast on all eight of you tonight.”
Lindsay’s chest heaved. “Nicky…”
“We can hunt for you,” Adam said. “Tom, you don’t have to do this. We can help each other. If we work together—”
“Shut it!” Tom entered the cell with his gun aimed at Finn’s forehead. Cage stepped toward Lindsay, but Tom swiveled his gun at Cage. “Stay back or I swear to God I’ll blow your brains out.”
“Please,” Rachel begged. “Please don’t hurt her.”
“Ah, the tough girl is begging now,” Tom said. “How quickly we change our tune when death is knocking at the door. Everyone step away from Number Five. Backs against the bars.”
“Please don’t do this, man.” Nicky wrapped his arms around Lindsay. Her face was buried in his chest.
Tom snatched Lindsay by the arm and dragged her away. Nicky lunged for her, but Tom pointed his gun at his chest, stopping him midstride.
“Wait,” Nicky said. “Please.”
“What? Do you want to say goodbye?” Tom sneered, but flung Lindsay back toward Nicky, keeping hold of her arm.
Nicky scooped down to kiss Lindsay quickly on the lips.
“All right love birds, that’s enough.” Tom led her outside and locked the cell door with a resounding click.
All the blood drained from Lindsay’s face. “Nicky!”
Nicky shook the door. “Let me out of here, you piece of shit! Take me instead!”
“Oh, I will.”
Cage moved beside Nicky. What were they going to do? This couldn’t be happening…
Nicky shook the bars. “I’m going to put my axe in your fat cannibal head! Let her go!”
Tom led Lindsay to the fire pit and forced her down on one knee. Dottie tied Lindsay’s hands behind her back. The cannibals—all thirty plus of them—gathered near the fire pit in front of an old, rusted RV. The community lowered their heads in prayer.
Flames flickered in the wind.
“Please, don’t kill me,” Lindsay whimpered. “I don’t want to die.”
“Let us be thankful for what has fallen at our feet,” Tom prayed. “Bless this young woman’s life. She is sacrificing for the greater good. We are all grateful. Amen.”
“She’s not sacrificing herself,” Rachel screamed. “You’re murdering her, you righteous piece of shit!”
Adam pulled Rachel away.
The community ignored Rachel’s screams and Lindsay’s sobs. A murmur of amens floated across the camp. Cage squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them, hoping the scene before him would change.
It didn’t.
Tom grabbed a fistful of Lindsay’s blonde hair and pulled it back, exposing a nearly translucent throat. In his other hand, he held a serrated hunting knife. The flames from the fire pit glinted off the blade.
Lindsay whipped her head back and forth, but Tom yanked her backward. He brought the knife tip to Lindsay’s throat and she went deathly still.
“Please, please, mister,” Lindsay begged. “I don’t want to die.”
Cage’s heart stopped beating. In his peripheral vision he noticed Finn standing next to Nicky. The kid was frozen—his mouth wide open in horror. Tears covered his cheeks. Monica had passed out and was lying unconscious on the cell floor.
“Tom!” Adam screamed. “You don’t have to do this!”
“Nicky!” Lindsay sobbed.
The blade hovered against Lindsay’s neck.
“Lindsay!” Nicky screamed.
Spit bubbled from Lindsay’s nose and mouth. “Nicky!” she sobbed. “I love you!”
“I love you, too!”
With one quick swipe, Tom slid the blade across Lindsay’s throat. A bright red line appeared across her neck. At first it was thin, but it widened into a nasty gash. The wound bubbled when Lindsay gasped.
“Nooo!” Nicky screamed.
Lindsay blinked before her eyes rolled up into her head.
Blood trickled down to her shirt, flowing like water, before she collapsed in a bloodless, lifeless heap in front of the fire pit.
Chapter Sixteen
Nicky’s scream echoed off the mountain.
Adam knew their situation was dire—not when Tom brutally slit Lindsay’s throat and placed her body to roast on the spit, but when Rachel crumpled in his arms.
Rachel, of all people, had been brought to her knees.
Adam turned her away from Lindsay’s body roasting over the fire pit. He led Rachel to the corner and she collapsed on his lap.
Night fell as the group of cannibals feasted on Lindsay’s remains. The smell of burning flesh and hair was nauseating. Adam kept his eyes averted from the fire pit. The mood at their “BBQ” was festive and Adam had never felt more helpless in his life.
While Adam and the others couldn’t stomach watching—Nicky did. He was the only one who remained standing. He’d punched the bars until his knuckles bled, never once taking his eyes from Tom.
After the cannibals’ meal, Lindsay’s remains were added to the pile of bones. Monica had regained consciousness and puked in the corner of the cell when Tom took the first bite of meat.
Adam was worried about Finn. The poor kid had seen more than his fair share of messed up in the past weeks, but this—hands down—topped it all.
“I don’t want to go out that way,” Rachel whispered. “Let it be from running from zombies or in a fight… not slaughtered like a pig to feed these fat losers.”
“We’re not dying here.” Adam pressed her head against his chest. Strands of her hair tickled his chin.
“Lindsay did,” she whispered.
“I’ll get us out of here. I promise. Get some sleep.”
Adam should’ve seen it sooner—the traps, the cheery faces. He was their leader and he led them straight into a pack of cannibals.
“I’m worried about Nicky,” Rachel said.
Adam sighed. “Me, too.”
Nicky stared at Tom. His eyes were red and swollen. He hadn’t said anything in hours. Adam didn’t know what to say to him—it was one thing to watch your girlfriend get murdered or even turned into a zombie. It was an entirely different animal to see your girlfriend murdered and eaten by a pack of overweight tourists.
Adam needed to focus. The cell’s bars were pliable—one of the girls or Finn could slip through, but there were too many people around. Someone would see them sneak out. They needed the key around Dottie’s neck. If they could get the key, then they could make a run for the weapons. Rachel was right—it was better to go out fighting than being submissively served up as the main course.
Adam elbowed Cage. “How are you holding up?”
Cage picked at the callouses on the fleshy part of his palm. “I knew Lindsay for years. I…I can’t believe she’s gone.”
“I’m sorry, man,” Adam said.
“What are we going to do?” Cage asked. “Any ideas?”
Adam shook his head.
Cage stared up at the starless sky. “They’re picking another number tomorrow. We have to get that key.”
“
We will.” Adam kissed Rachel’s forehead. He would not lose Rachel. He closed his eyes and, when he opened them, he was startled to see the sun high in the sky.
He’d fallen asleep for hours without moving a muscle.
Rachel was lying on his chest staring at him. “Morning,” she whispered.
“Good morning.” Adam massaged the muscles in his neck.
“There’s not much good about it,” Rachel said. “Here he comes.”
“Already?” Adam sat up.
Tom marched over to the cell. “How did we sleep?”
Nicky’s hands shot through the bars, but Tom stepped back.
“That wasn’t very polite,” Tom said.
Rachel stumbled to her feet. “You’re not going to get away with this.”
“We seem to be doing just fine, Blondie.”
“Someone will find out what you’re doing here.”
“Who? The police?” Tom scratched his armpit. “If you haven’t noticed, the government isn’t here anymore. The system has crashed and it’s never going to be fixed. The world as we know it is gone. For good.”
“You don’t know that,” Adam said.
“It’s over and good riddance. Where was our government when we needed them the most? Why did I pay taxes for all those years? What was the point? The moment shit hit the fan, what did our government do? Did they protect us? Did they even try? No. I haven’t seen one member of the military. One policeman. Nothing. They abandoned us. Our country abandoned us.”
“That gives you the right to eat people?” Rachel stalked toward the bars.
“It’s called survival of the fittest and I am now officially bored with this conversation. Enjoy the nice weather while you can. We’re pulling another name this afternoon.” Tom removed his T-shirt, revealing a fat, hairy belly. He waded into the lake.
The hours sped by.
A knot formed in Adam’s throat—what if they picked Rachel’s number? Despite what he’d been promising, he couldn’t save them. He was no closer to retrieving the key or finding a way out of this cell than he was this morning.