Feasters

by Solomon Petchers

  Looking over their shoulders, I chime in, “Yeah, interesting they didn’t mention him.”

  “Well, if they’re like us, they’re careful not to give too much away,” Emily adds. I nod in agreement.

  “Guys? Check out this picture.” Andrew is looking at what appears to be a family vacation picture that includes three other people, probably relatives, on a cliff somewhere, complete with Bermuda shorts and Hawaiian flowered shirts. “Does this guy look familiar?” he says, referring to a man who is standing next to Harold.

  “They have to be brothers. They look a lot alike,” Emily notices.

  “I can’t put my finger on it, but this guy looks familiar,” Andrew insists.

  I shrug my shoulders, “I mean, it’s been months since we’ve seen anyone that’s living. The faces in my mind just sort of blend together.”

  “I get it, but there’s something about this guy. I don’t know. I’m probably just tired.” He rubs his eyes, seemingly trying to put it out of his mind.

  We move our attention from the family photos and settle into our sleeping arrangements. Emily insists on the bed. She says it’s gentlemanly for us to let her take it, but I think she’s making a statement about being convinced to stay here. As I scan the room, I notice that something about staying here feels foreign, and I regret convincing Emily to stay even though it makes complete sense. There were indeed too many unknown factors out there with the Feasters, especially this close to sunrise. Something about staying here feels off, but I can’t figure out what it is. Perhaps it’s just being in a new place. There’s something to be said about the phrase “home is where your heart is.” I know that the house we currently live isn’t technically our home, but in these times, home is where you find a vacancy. Most everyone is gone. They either fled for their lives, they’re walking the streets searching for fresh meat, or they are dead. There are a lot of vacancies.

  It was really by accident we ended up where we live. After the first invasion of the Feasters, we were forced from our houses by our own kind that changed into them; after either being bitten or biting the Feasters and becoming infected after our failed counterattack. Emily and I have always had each other. Even though we’re cousins, we’re more like best friends since we’re so close in age and spent so much time together. The day our relatives turned, Emily and I were forced to the upstairs of her house. The commotion and screams were deafening. Emily’s mother, my Aunt Rosemary, burst into the room and slammed the door behind her. With panic deeply set into her eyes, she leaned into the door in an effort to secure it. “Mom? What’s happening?!” Emily asked as an unknown fear settled into us. Aunt Rosemary didn’t answer. Emily and I approached her. “Mom? Mom?”

  “C’mon Aunt Rosemary. You’re freaking us out. What was all that noise? Was it them? Are they inside?”

  Tears streamed from her face, and she was visibly shaking. She nodded her head confirming my questions. Emily and I looked at each other waiting for some direction. “Mom! What do we do?!”

  It was then I noticed blood splattered across her face as she put her trembling hand to her mouth and motioned for us to be quiet. “We have to get you two out of here,” she whispered, her index finger still on her lips. She scrambled to Emily’s wooden bed and snapped off two of the ornate legs from the footboard. Outside the room, we could hear them as they moved up the stairs, their groans increasing in volume. Aunt Rosemary grabbed the rest of the footboard and held it up like a shield, testing it. “Listen to me.” She put the footboard down for a moment and dropped to her knees. She pulled both of us close so that each of our heads flanked her own. With the only composure she could muster, she pleaded, “Listen to me, sweet ones. You can’t stay here.”

  Emily tried to reason, “But why, Momma?”

  “Because what is left of us will be more than you can bear.”

  “What do you mean, Aunty?” I asked. “Where’s my father?”

  “There is no time for questions. Everyone we know is gone.”

  “Gone?” We both asked.

  “Shhh, please just listen. There isn’t time.” We could feel her warm tears against our cheeks. “They are gone. Dead or walking with the dead. They are feasting on everyone. You can’t stay here. There is too much to bear. I’m going to go out there—”

  “Mother, no! Stay here. Please,” Emily desperately pleaded.

  “I can’t, sweet one.” She pulled away from us and then grabbed Emily’s face to hers, so they were nose to nose. “I can’t. There’s no way you two will survive if I do. They will get through that door.” The three of us were unable to control the flow of tears streaming from our eyes. “Listen to me. You have always been special. From the day you were born, I could tell that you were so strong. Each day, you amazed us. Whenever you would fall or get hurt, you never cried. Your father said you were the strongest among us. You have to believe me about that. You have a gift! You’ve always sensed when something’s wrong. Please always trust that feeling. Do you understand me?”

  Emily, wiped her tears with her sleeve, trying to be strong.

  “Kieran.” Aunt Rosemary pulled me to her. “Your mother and father love you more than you know. They always said you had the gift of seeing. You would have the most vivid of dreams and be able to retell them in amazing detail. Sometimes,” she said, “the dreams you recounted would come true as if the telling of a prophecy. You have a gift, Kieran. Remember to use it. Trust it. Most of all, know that your parents have always cherished you.” The pangs of missing my family crushed my heart, my soul, my being.

  She pulled us together again, quivering. “All you have now is each other,” she said as she hugged us before giving us our last instructions. “When it is silent, you need to sneak out of this room and quietly head down the stairs. Do not look around but be on the lookout for them. I’m going to try to drive them all out of the house. Please, please don’t look around. Promise me that. Slink out the back door and look for the nearest abandoned house. It won’t be hard to find. Set up your home and please, do whatever it takes to survive. Rely on each other and survive!”

  She hugged us one more time and stood up. She handed us the legs of the bed she broke off. “Do not hesitate to use these.” She moved to the door as the groans were steady now. “I love you both.” She wiped away the tears and readied herself for the task at hand. She extended her fangs, picked up the footboard, and opened the door. She forced out a guttural scream that pierced our ears as she used the footboard as a barrier to push the zombies down the stairs.

  We closed the door. Sobbing. Holding each other and listening. Listening for the silence. For minutes, it didn’t come. The sounds of crashing and ripping and thumping filled the air outside Emily’s bedroom door and down the stairs. Then, as quick as it started, it stopped. Silence. We sat, still embraced, listening for something else. The silence was the only sound, and it was deafening.

  So, we did what Aunt Rosemary instructed us to do; wait for silence and then go. We waited for quite some time before moving. Emily gathered all she could in her backpack. Slowly, she opened the door, and we peeked our heads out. With the legs of the bed in our quivering hands, we crept downstairs. Nothing could prepare us for what awaited. Pools of blood, everywhere. And the smell, putrid and rotting, made our eyes water. We tried not to look around, but there was no way we couldn’t. The bodies and heads and limbs of our relatives were strewn everywhere. Aunt Rosemary had put up a fight. We saw the footboard lodged into the chest of a Feaster, its head on the carpet still chomping aimlessly and growling. From the opening of the basement door, I could see the lower half of a body partially in the doorway. I recognized my father’s construction boots. I fought my curiosity because I wanted to go and see if he was okay. I had to know! Instead, I listened to my Aunt Rosemary’s directions. Besides, I’m not sure I wanted to see what happened to him or what he’d become. We moved through the house to the back door and slipped outside into the darkness.

  Next door, broken win
dows littered the exterior of where I used to live. Small fires burned from the inside. We thought about going in to find survivors, but Aunt Rosemary’s instruction drove us to find shelter. After exploring several houses, the one we chose was the only one without signs of struggle. That horrendous day feels like ages ago.

  So, tonight we make the best of things. Andrew and I arrange blankets next to each other on the carpet. Emily looks over the side of the bed at us, “For the record, I was against this whole idea from the start. That’s why I’m taking the bed.”

  “We didn’t argue,” Andrew chuckles.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t want you guys talking smack about me being a princess. You know I’m not. Besides, you wouldn’t want a princess kicking your butts.” She lays back on the bed. Seconds later, she pokes her head over the side again. “Because you know I can.” She throws an eyebrow into the air. Andrew flashes a smile at her, freezing her in place for a moment before disappearing again.

  Andrew and I lay quietly for a bit before he asks, “Kieran?”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you think this thing will ever be over? You know, living in solitude, battling Feasters, and…” Andrew pauses, struggling with the last part.

  “And what?”

  “Not trusting people.”

  I pause, thinking about an answer. The truth is I don’t think it will ever end, but there’s a reason I look out the window every night. Hope. “Maybe someday. Someday soon, Andrew.”

  Silence fills the room. It doesn’t happen right away, but sleep finds the three of us. I dream.

  Chapter Four

  Centre Square

  We are all gathered at Centre Square. When things were normal, our city would have gatherings several times throughout the year to celebrate big events such as an Easter Egg Hunt or 4th of July fireworks. Because our little community was so accepting of us, they would plan events to happen at sunset so we could join in the festivities. The grassy field extends about a block with a large gazebo right in the middle where public officials often made speeches and school performances took place. Picnic benches, complete with wooden ornate designs, are strategically placed throughout Centre Square. Most weekends, families could be found celebrating birthdays and having barbeques. On each side of the Grand Gazebo are playgrounds complete with swings, slides, and monkey bars.

  On this day, the bright sun and warm weather welcomes everyone out to celebrate. At the gazebo, a small group of citizens are gathered and listen and laugh at a city official’s speech. Groups of people converse in different areas each having a grand time of their own. In the distance, children, big and small, could be seen under the watchful eye of their parents guarding their strollers.

  Although the sun is shining, Vamps don’t seem affected – as if all were equal in the world. I look down at my hands and I’m holding a bag of blue cotton candy, the magical sweetness lighting up my taste buds. Flanked on either side of me, stealing handfuls, are Emily and Andrew. Emily is wearing a red flowered dress which is completely uncharacteristic of her style, as are the spins she’s doing which are making Andrew laugh. The three of us are happy. We laugh. We joke. The best part is that there’s not a Feaster in sight. Ahead of us, our family is sitting with friends; Vamps and humans alike. My dad looks over his shoulder from a chair where he’s sitting in a semi-circle and gives me a wink. I wink back.

  As we walk over to the other playground, the sky darkens a bit, and though it doesn’t threaten the festivities, everyone takes a moment to notice. When we are a few paces past the Grand Gazebo, I notice a sign mounted on the playground structure. It’s only when we get a little closer that I’m able to read it. Humans Only. I stop, but it doesn’t seem to bother Emily and Andrew. As I’m frozen in my tracks, they continue to frolic forward. Moments later, time stops, and everyone else around me freezes. Everyone except a family on the swings. There’s something familiar about them. I notice Harold, in a lab coat, pushing a little boy on the swing. On the other swing, a woman is pushing Carissa. The little boy and Carissa are pumping their legs and laughing. Harold and the woman, which I assume is Carissa’s mother, are looking at each other lovingly. Suddenly, Carissa notices us. She jumps off the swing, walks towards Andrew, and gently takes his hand to lead him away from where Emily and I are standing. She faces him as they join both hands together and spin in slow circles. Carissa is laughing, but Andrew's face doesn’t match hers. Instead, he looks somber, defeated.

  As Carissa is spinning with Andrew, the sun begins to fade behind the trees and quaint shops surrounding Centre Square. The little boy dismounts from the swing and moves toward me in distorted, jerky, disjointed movements. His face transforms with each step. Slowly, his skin changes to the pale, dead complexion of a Feaster. Carissa’s flirty laugh increases in volume and echoes in my ears.

  “Case? Case? Come back here, love,” the woman calls out. “Come give Momma a hug.”

  Case is now fully transformed. However, Harold and the woman don’t seem to mind. The woman drops to her knees with arms open awaiting a hug. Time slows down as Case moves in for the embrace. For the moment, it appears natural until Case steps back and whips around to face me, his mouth covered with blood, his eyes glossed over. Behind him, his mother cries as she drops to the ground, a gash ripped out of her neck. “Why?! Why?!” she screams.

  Harold drops to the floor to her aide, “Marisol! My Marisol! Nooo!” His white lab coat is splattered in her blood. Finally, he lifts his head and locks his eyes on mine. “This is because of you! Don’t you see the sign? HUMANS ONLY!”

  I awaken from my nightmare, gasping for air, sweat matting my hair to my forehead. My eyes search frantically around the room. Quickly I recover, remembering where I am. A pale orange light peeks through the side of the curtains, indicating the sun is setting. From the other room, I can hear Harold, Carissa, and the faint voice of another female, who I can only assume is Carissa’s mother, having a conversation. Marisol, was it? I catch a phrase here and there. We can’t just yet, Sweetheart. The time isn’t right. We’ll make everything better. I try to make sense of the words, but right now, my dream needs attention. Sitting up, I make sure Andrew and Emily are okay. I notice a light coming in from the base of the door. Several times, shadows drift by. Several times, they stop in front of our door as if they want to come in. I reach down by my side to assure my machete is there. It is.

  Turning on the lamp, I get another look at the family pictures. “You must be Case,” I say in a whisper. The cute, dirty blonde-haired little boy stands next to Carissa in one of the photos. Is that what happened to you? Did you turn? As the dream haunts my questions, I search my mind for answers.

  Dreams. They’ve always been vivid. I can still retell dreams from my childhood. My parents and some of the elders would listen to them and try to determine their meaning. Months before the time the Feasters invaded, I had a dream I was walking through a graveyard. On the headstones were the names of family members. And, as the sun came up, although I was not affected, the headstones burst into flames. No one knew what it meant, but everyone was on eggshells wondering if something bad was going to happen. Of course, it did. I wish the dream had been clearer or I was given the gift of interpretation. One would think if someone was able to have dreams of this magnitude, they would also possess the gift of knowing what they mean. Instead, our family was wiped out. The guilt of this weighs heavily on me to this very day. It’s this guilt that forces me to be so protective of Emily and Andrew.

  My parents told me that it’s a gift, but I’ve never been too sure about that. Dreams like these keep me up for days. This one today will. This one feels personal. Something tells me this dream is important. The problem is I don’t know if I’ll figure out its meaning before it’s too late. Obviously, it has something to do with Harold, Carissa, and the rest of this family. But what? Are we in danger? I do know one thing for sure, I need to hold Emily and Andrew close, especially Andrew. Carissa seems to spotlight him. Every conversatio
n starts and ends with him, as if Emily and I were just background noise you don’t realize is there until someone points it out. Why is Andrew her focus? It could simply be innocent infatuation, but I’m convinced we have to be wary of everything.

  The sooner we get out of this house, the better. “Emily. Andrew,” I whisper. They barely stir. I try again. “Guys, it’s time to get up,” this time, my voice a little louder than a whisper. “It’s time to get going.” They get up and rub the sleep out of their eyes.

  I grab the blankets on the floor to fold. As I’m folding them, I laugh to myself. It’s a weird thing, the folding. My mother always insisted when I would sleep at someone’s house that I show them some courtesy. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a sleepover, but this old habit doesn’t die. I guess it keeps me tethered to my mother’s memory, an anchor that keeps me from going crazy in this insane world.

  It’s also the first time I realize that it’s been a while since we’ve eaten the crackers and water Harold offered us. Putting the hunger pangs out of my head, I fill in Emily and Andrew about my dream.

  Emily looks concerned, “What do you think it all means?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  “I knew these people were bad news,” Emily spouts.

  “Shh, we don’t know that, Em,” Andrew rebuts. “Kieran’s dreams can also be symbolic. It’s important that we don’t jump to conclusions.”

  Emily rolls her eyes. “Don’t shush me. I’m fully aware of Kieran’s dreams. I’d feel a lot more comfortable if we weren’t here. Can we go?”

  “I’m with you on this,” I whisper. Andrew nods in agreement. “We’re gonna go, but if we’re in any type of danger, we should be on our guard. We shouldn’t do anything stupid to raise suspicion. You know what I mean?”