Feasters Read online

  After trying to tell them that we weren’t looking for trouble, I said, “Hey guys, there’s plenty more in there if you’d like.”

  “Nah, y’all did all da work. We’ll just take dat load off your hands and let ya’ll go.”

  Emily stepped in, “I’m sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”

  The group laughed. “Really? Even if you use dat bow strapped to yer back, you won’t git a chance to reload it.”

  “Yeah, but which one of you is willing to take an arrow?” Emily reached back and armed the bow, causing the group to shuffle back half a step.

  “It won’t matter. Y’all see, I tried bein’ nice. Take y’alls stuff and walk away, but you had to take it to the next level. So, after dis is done, I’m gonna be taking dat bow and all those arrows too.”

  Emily’s fangs dropped. “Do what you want to do, but y’all ain’t taking our stuff.”

  The group stepped back again. The one next to the leader exclaimed, “Dude, they’s Vamps!”

  “Doesn’t matter,” the leader said. “There’s six of us.” He brought his bat up to his shoulder.

  Knowing the odds before he pointed them out, I leaned towards Emily and whispered, “We don’t stand a chance. Remember the utility closet?” Emily nods. While inside The Second Chance, there was a light banging coming from behind the utility closet door. From the groaning and chomping, we could tell someone had trapped some Feasters in there.

  “So, what’s it goin’ be?”

  I paused, pretending to think it over, but shifted my body and the wagon to make an easy escape back inside The Second Chance. “We’re not going to let that happen.” With that, Emily sent an arrow into the foot of one of the gang. She and I bolted back into the store, passed several clothing racks, and flanked either side of the utility door. Angered, the group bolted inside searching for us.

  “Where are ya’ll, ya freaks?! Show y’selves.”

  I banged on the wall to draw their attention. As they got closer, Emily popped out, ripped the closet door open and freed the Feasters inside. Before the gang knew what was happening, the zombies were already feasting on their flesh. Emily and I darted for the back door, escaping with the wagon.

  A sharp pinch on my arm jolts me back from my thoughts. “Hello? Hello, Earth to Kieran. What do you think?”

  “Think about what?” I ask, the memory still at the forefront of my mind.

  She rolls her eyes. “Do you think it could be a trap or something?”

  “Yeah, I guess. There’s only one way to find out,” I tell Emily.

  "One way to find out about what?" Andrew comes waltzing in.

  Without turning our heads, Emily jokes, "Well, look who's late to the party?"

  "I was grabbing a snack. So, what are we trying to find out?"

  "It looks like someone out there is flashing a light and we're trying to figure out if someone is looking for help or if it's a setup."

  Andrew joins us at the window and plants his nose to the glass firmly with ours. He sees the light right away. "You mean way over there?" He pauses to think. "My guess is that it's someone looking for help."

  "Ha, told you," I say, pointing my finger at Emily.

  Emily rolls her eyes, "What does he know? I know what you’re thinking, and I think we should just stay at home. We don't know what it is. It could be dangerous."

  "I've never known you to shy away from an adventure," I remind her.

  "And, besides, we're Vamps. What do we have to be worried about? It's not like anything human can take us down unless, ya know, it’s a Feaster and those things ain't human anymore."

  I consider that for a minute. "So, what should we do?" Andrew, although sometimes reckless, is pretty logical. He sees things from angles we don’t think about. Emily and I joke about how it's all that human upbringing.

  We all turn from the couch. Andrew says, "The sun went down about three hours ago, so barring something unforeseen, we have all the time we need to go out and be back in time before sun up."

  "You missed a spot," Emily interjects.

  "Huh?" Andrew says, confused.

  On Andrew's chin sits a glob of coagulated blood. Before he can do anything about it, Emily reaches out with one finger, swipes at the spot, and puts the glob in her mouth. "Mmm, canine. Starsky?"

  "Hutch. Starsky's more dinner. I wanted a snack. I can't resist that fat little body."

  We laugh. I bring the subject back, "So, are we going to do this? As much as I hate to admit it, Andrew has a point. And, maybe they have things that we need," I point out.

  Emily adds, "But, what if they’re the kind of human that doesn't accept us?"

  "Yes, but going back to Andrew's point. What do we have to worry about? The three of us together are strong."

  Emily reasons, "I’m just saying, I think we all have more pressing issues." She breaks out into her zombie impersonation pretending to feed on us. We chuckle.

  Given the dire circumstances life has dealt us, we've tried to make things work by keeping things light. It’s something that comes naturally to the three of us. We have to. We've all lost something.

  Andrew and I pull the map off the wall and quickly figure out where the house with the light is located. It's beyond our normal stomping grounds, but the time has come to venture out. We’ve explored nearly every home and store on our map. It looks like a straight shot there except for the concrete walls that run parallel and serve as a barrier to the Finway Aqueduct on either side. Every hundred yards or so are chain link gates secured with a hefty lock. When the world was free from Feasters, we would ride our bikes there at dusk and stand on our bikes to peek over the side. In the times when rules mattered, we wouldn't even think about going over the wall or popping off the lock to go through the gate. Today’s a different story. A bolt cutter is pretty much a necessity in most places we venture.

  "So, we're gonna do this?" I ask.

  "What do we have to lose?" Andrew responds.

  "I'm not crazy about it, but if they’re alive, then they may have some things we need. I would rather not go, but it makes sense," Emily apprehensively agrees.

  Before we head downstairs to get ready, I peer out the window one more time just to make sure the light is still flashing. It is. I feel uneasy – I don't necessarily feel too good about doing runs so close to one another. It isn't good practice to press our luck or take too many uncalculated risks, but I push aside my concerns by thinking of this as a rescue mission. Yeah, that's it. A rescue mission.

  I head downstairs to join the others in the garage. That's where we keep our gear. We've learned over time how to dress on runs. Never dress in thin clothes. No short sleeves. Always wear a thick jacket regardless of how warm it is. The only way for a Feaster to change or eat you is to have access to skin. The layers have saved us on more than one occasion. We scored a few leather coats from department stores and houses from past runs. After we get dressed, it's time to decide on protection. Andrew’s weapon of choice? A bat. It isn’t your run of the mill wooden bat – this one is aluminum. He likes the way it makes a ping whenever it makes contact with a Feaster. He has this nifty little harness that straps across his back where he houses it, and he’s quick on the draw, too. Emily fancies herself a compound bow and quiver from a sporting goods store. In fact, she grabbed three of them, including a crossbow, and a whole lot of arrows. Over time, she's even learned how to make her own, and although the tips aren't metal, they are sharp. She's smooth with it too, good at long distance and even better up close. She's quite the warrior. Me? I'm all about my machete. I keep that puppy nice and sharp. Whenever a Feaster gets close, my machete moves like a hot knife through butter. Speaking of sharp, we all have a knife strapped to our legs as backup. As Vamps, our instinctual weapon is ineffective against zombies, so we have to rely on our speed, strength, and weapons. The combination of all three has made us quite formidable. I wish we didn’t have to use them, but it doesn't always work that way. Before we go out on a run,
we make sure to give each other the once over. Weapons? Check. Boot laces tied? Check. Loose buckles and straps tightened? Check. We don't want to give a Feaster a chance because some unstrapped piece of clothing gets stuck in a fence or something stupid like that. After the final check, Emily and I head downstairs to drink a quick snack. Goat for me, Starsky for Emily.

  We move to the front window. It looks like a slow night in Feasterville. Usually, there's a normal crowd of them, walking aimlessly as if they may have had a place to be but in the process forgot where they were going. To top it off, wherever they're going, they're never in a rush to get there. Well, that is unless there's the prospect of a meal. Then, as if all at once, they coordinate and herd together with a little more pep in their step. The good news is that they’re easy to outrun. Most times, this makes a fast escape easy. The problem for humans is that they’re good at getting away quickly, but most lack endurance, especially in a post-apocalyptic world. Let's face it, no one is making them pass a fitness test like schools did when they were in session. Although Feasters appear like they are sleepwalking, they never tire. Unless we haven’t eaten in a while, Vamps don't either.

  "How's tonight's entertainment? The usual suspects?" Andrew chuckles.

  "Well, it's the usual suspects, all right. However, there are a few fresh faces I don't recognize." Fresh faces are newly converted zombies. The older corpses? They look terrible. Their bones press through their thinning, rotting flesh. Their skin has already changed to the color of a spoiled banana. The Feasters who have been zombies for a while shuffle their feet and walk a little slower than the newbies, as if they need a walker to assist them to get around. The fresh faces are just that. Their faces haven't started to deteriorate yet. They have a little more pep in their step. I mean, pep enough for someone who’s dead. One thing the fresh faces taught us is this – if they are popping up then there may be more survivors hiding out. Where there are survivors, there is hope. We don't talk about that hope, but we all think about it. Our eyes give us away.

  "It looks like the perfect night to make a run," Andrew says.

  "Hopefully," I mutter. I set out the map and go over the plan. It really isn't too complicated. The easy part will be getting to the wall. The hard part is not knowing what's waiting for us on the other side. The hope of there being someone else out there sits bigger than our fear of the unknown. Besides, we love adventure.

  We move to the back door because it's always, always safer that way. Months ago, we secured our perimeter by making sure that the backyard gate pushes out towards the front. The good thing about the Feasters is that during their transition to becoming dead, they've lost all sense of problem-solving. We know they can never enter the backyard because they lack the dexterity to pull the gate towards them. They just bunch up against it. So, it makes it easy to just walk up to the fence and take care of them. The only danger of a breach is if too many of them press up against a barrier and their weight knocks it over.

  Ending a Feaster is easy. Aim for the head, puncture the skull, and destroy the brain. In the beginning, it was hard to do that knowing that they were once living human beings or Vamps, if they had survived that long. We spent so much time building relationships with humans, that most of us, especially the young, lost any edge to take a life – even if it was a zombie.

  Before we walk out of the backdoor, we check the backyard through the window. Clear as expected. Quietly, we move down the porch steps. Tonight is extra quiet. Despite the groaning that’s become the permanent soundtrack of our lives, we can actually hear the bullfrogs from the end of the cul-de-sac.

  We move to the side of the house, towards the gate, and peek over the fence. A small parade of zombies is moving away from the house and down the street. Sitting at the end of the street is a dead end. No pun intended. A fenced off area separates a spillway where any water collects and is brought away from the neighborhoods. It's rained pretty hard the last few days, so there is plenty of water in the marshes. And, with marshes comes bullfrogs, and they are loud. They can be heard for blocks and blocks. At our old place, which wasn’t too far away, we could hear them as if they were right outside our window. There are times it's so loud that it’s difficult to sleep or concentrate – not that Vamps sleep much at night. We do rest or nap just as much as any human does during the day. But, in the past months, we’ve welcomed the call of the bullfrogs because the only thing more annoying than bullfrogs singing all night is the sound of moaning and groaning from Feasters. As we move to the edge of the bushes, we look down towards the marsh and sure enough, the Feasters are lined up along the fence line like they’re at a rock concert. The rest of them are moving in the same direction. Tonight is as good as any to go on a run.

  Andrew quietly opens the gate, and we close it against the foam pool noodles fashioned along the metal clasp, so as not to alarm the zombies. We slip behind the black Chevy Camaro camped in the driveway. "Someday," Emily taps quietly on its sleek fender. "Someday." It really would be easier to just drive, but we’re too chicken because we aren't old enough. It's a silly thing to think about whether you are old enough to drive in today's world. It's not like anyone could stop us. So, someday, we'll get our nerve and do it, especially since we have to start venturing out further for our runs.

  The Feasters are still moving towards the end of the block, so we take our opportunity to move across the street and back into the shadows. We dart quickly. Emily looks back and notices we've disturbed one of them. It turns around for a moment, ooze dripping from its dislocated jaw, and then is distracted by the bullfrogs once again, and continues towards the marshes. It would be great if we could just trap them down there. Crowd control.

  As we move quickly past Monroe, Adams, and Jackson Street, I'm hoping this unscheduled trip is worth it. Any hope of life is good. At some point, we will need to rebuild. Hiding in the shadows isn't the best way to live. Emily agrees, but she's got some trust issues. We've done okay for ourselves, and anyone from outside our circle may not be able to be trusted. But, I often remind her that there's safety in numbers. She reminds me that we are only as strong as our weakest link. She’s not wrong. Andrew’s been a great addition to our family, but the next person may not be. I push my thoughts aside and focus on the run. This mission is potentially important.

  Moving past Van Buren street, Andrew says, "We've got about ten more blocks. Remember, stay hidden."

  We give a thumbs up. As he moves around the corner of a car, he trips over a Feaster who was sitting on the ground leaning against the bumper. Andrew hits the ground with a thud, knocking the air out of his lungs. The zombie immediately reacts, grabbing Andrew's bad leg and instantly starts working his way up. Andrew reaches behind him and struggles to grab his bat while trying to drag his body from the zombie's grip. Securing the bat from its harness, he tries to swing it, but he doesn't have the leverage to do any good. The bat only makes a light ping, not enough to stop the Feaster. It just motivates him to move more aggressively, and he tries harder to make a meal of Andrew. As the Feaster opens his mouth imploring for flesh to feed on, Andrew quickly shoves the handle of the bat inside the zombie's mouth. With the bat firmly planted in, all it can do is snap on the aluminum knob. I snort out a chuckle, trying to keep quiet, but I can't help laughing. Emily brushes past me, slightly less amused, pulls an arrow from her quiver and firmly plants the arrow into the base of the zombie's skull. Pop! It falls limp with the handle of the bat halfway down its throat. With heavy breaths, Andrew scurries out from under the Feaster and gets to his feet. He reaches down for his bat, puts his boot on its chest, and extracts the bat from the Feaster's throat. He dries the handle on the back of his pant leg. Looking at me annoyed, he whispers, "Thanks for the help, you idiot."

  I snicker back, "You weren't in any danger. Besides, I wanted to see if it was going to eat the entire thing. You should have seen yourself."

  "Oh really? I lived it." Then, he lightens up, "That scared the heck out of me."

  E
mily interrupts, "C'mon, you two. That creeped me out." She brushes some hair out of Andrew's eyes and gives him a hug. We don't talk about it, but she's got a thing for him. She has a tough exterior, but inside, she really cares about us. Whenever we are on a run, there's a seriousness about her, and she usually takes over. As she's pulling away from Andrew, she points in the distance. "Look."

  All three of us look to where she's pointing. The light in the window, a bit closer now, is flashing faster. "What do you think that means?" Andrew asks.

  "I don't know," I respond, "but if before was a distress signal, then this is a panic button."

  Emily, a little more convinced now that the light in the window isn't a trap, says, "Yeah, we’d better get a move on." She leads the way a few steps and looks back at Andrew. "And, watch your step. We can't afford anything like that again." Yup, she's back to form. She turns and leads the way through the shadows. Andrew puts his bat back into its place, blows the hair out of his eyes, and follows. I look behind us to see if the coast is clear. Aside for some stragglers, it’s clear enough to keep going.

  Moving swiftly now, the three of us bob and weave our way through the shadows, avoiding small clusters of zombies and taking down a few we couldn’t avoid. We approach Grant Park, and more importantly, the wall. We haven’t been here since, well, since before.

  We peer over it. It feels just like old times except in the old times we weren't running for our lives. In the near distance, the frantic light flashing at the window shines more clearly now. We just need to get past the first wall, through the aqueduct, and past the second wall. The house is just a block or two from there.

  We walk along the perimeter of the wall until we find one of the gates. Finding the lock, Andrew pulls out the small bolt cutters. "We aren't going to need those," I tell him pointing to the ground. “Someone has already taken care of that for us.” The lock lays on the ground, already cut open. We cautiously open the gate and move through to the other side making sure to close it and put the cut lock in its place just in case any zombies or other people are around. People that may not be so nice.