Feasters Page 3

  Since it’s been raining for the past few days, the water in the aqueduct moves swiftly even though the levels aren't very high. We sit down on the concrete and scoot down the slope to the water's edge. As we wade in arm-in-arm, the water rushes around our knees. It’s about a fifteen-foot walk through the water. We make it through without a problem and scurry up the wall to the other side. After taking a second to catch our breath, we scan our surroundings making sure we are the only ones there. We find the gate. This time, the bolt cutters cut through the metal lock easily. Closing the gate behind us, we do the same with the lock, putting it in its place to appear as if it’s still locked.

  Moving to a clearing, we see the outline of the house clearly carved against the moonlight. The light methodically moves from window to window in frantic flashes. Emily looks at us, nods her head signaling for us to follow, and we move on our way.

  Chapter Two

  Andrew

  As we approach the house, the fog drifts in, creating an ominous haze over the half moon. The light is still flashing frantically as we cover the last block. Emily stops suddenly, causing us to bump into her back. She extends her arm and index finger, her mouth open in shock. Our eyes follow her arm as it extends towards the house where ornate iron fencing surrounds it. The girl in the window makes eye contact with us which only causes the flashing to increase in speed, her eyes wide with terror. Beneath the window, an audience of Feasters cover the lawn, their attention focused on the blinking light.

  Andrew gasps, "Holy cow! There's gotta be over a dozen of them."

  We nod silently in agreement. "This isn't a rescue mission. This is a suicide mission," I say, not believing my eyes. The three of us sit back behind an abandoned car haphazardly parked in the middle of the street, breathing hard as the weight of the task ahead sits heavily on us. "Anyone got a plan?"

  Emily, shaking her head in disbelief, says, "I say we do nothing. We don't owe these people anything."

  "I'm glad you didn't say that when you found me," Andrew responds. Emily shoots him a stern glance as an audible silence fills the air. “Look, we didn't come all this way to do nothing, did we?"

  "I didn't owe you anything either, but," she says, softening, "this is different. We came out here to have a look. We did. This is way more than we can handle. If those people were stupid enough to get themselves trapped in there, why do we have to be the ones to save them?" She peeks over the car to look at the house. "I mean really, how dumb do you have to be to keep shining that light out of the window like that? I know these freaks can't see well, but…" her voice trails off.

  "Look, you have a point," I tell her. "But, think about it for a minute. She and anyone else trapped in there have survived this long. That’s gotta count for something, right?" Emily's face doesn't change. "Also, it's been about two years since the Feasters took over. The people in that house have a flashlight."

  "Yeah, so?" Emily asks, clearly annoyed by this conversation.

  "Yeah, so? That means they have batteries. What other resources do you think they have? Food? Animals? They had to have done something right up until now."

  "He's got a point," Andrew says putting a gloved hand onto hers.

  Emily quickly throws it off. "This sucks."

  "What? Me being right, again?" I gloat at my obvious victory.

  She smiles slightly, "No, you being stupid. It sucks that you’re stupid." She pauses, "And that you’re right," she rolls her eyes while curling up the side of her mouth in a half-smile. "So how are we going to do this?"

  We think it over for a moment. Andrew spins his bat in his hands and makes his eyebrows dance up and down. "I'm feeling a little dangerous today. Follow my lead." He walks to the end of the car, looks back at the both of us and grins.

  I look at Emily. Her smile shows her weakness. "God, I hate him."

  Putting my hand on her shoulder, I say, "No you don't. You love him." I make a kissy sound under my breath just loud enough so only she can hear. She throws a gentle back fist to my face. We both watch that now familiar limp of Andrew's as he walks over to the tree next to the fenced yard and hides in the shadows.

  I remember when Emily brought Andrew home. Sometimes she gets in these moods where she just needs to get out. I know how that feels. The monotony of doing the same thing every day coupled with the steady, endless song of Feaster groaning is enough to drive anyone crazy. It's like when they changed, they were taught a brand-new language that consisted of just a few vowel sounds. I'm against her doing it, but sometimes she just needs to. Besides, once something’s in her head, there's no stopping her.

  The thing about Emily is that she gets these feelings. It's something she can't fully explain, but something inside her tingles, like tiny pinpricks on the back of her neck, when something isn't right. On that night, she told me she got that feeling while passing a house that we've checked out before. With bow in hand, she snuck past a few Feasters, popped the lock on the back door, and slinked in. It was then that she heard groans coming from the other room. While crouching behind a wall, she peeked around the corner. There were three of them milling around the front room. Deciding to take them out, she quietly reared back an arrow and fixed it to the back of the female Feaster's skull. As she toppled over, the other two zombies, too curious for their own good, crouched in concern for their own. With two of her short-range arrows secured in her hands, she rolled over the couch, and made quick work of the others.

  Still, she couldn’t keep control of the tingles she felt. Sensing there was something else, she made her way upstairs past the blood splattered walls. It's a thing that we've seen in house after house. Signs of struggle. No signs of life – well, real life anyway. It's the same pattern over and over. She looked for anything useful while keeping a watchful eye for more Feasters. Suddenly, she heard a clattering in a bedroom. Putting the wall to her back, she readied another arrow and slid to the next room. As she poked her head in, a male zombie in muddied overalls walked repeatedly into the slotted closet door. Taking aim, she let an arrow zing into the back of the Feaster's head. It tumbled into and down the accordion-style doors. One side slid open. She notched another arrow, slowly moved towards the closet, and whistled, expecting another to come out. But it didn’t. She whistled again. Moving closer, she slid the other door open with the tip of her arrow. "Okay, I see you. Come out from under those clothes." Nothing moved. "Okay, I'm giving you to the count of three before I drive an arrow into that pile you're hiding in. If you're already dead, it won't matter." She waited a moment. “One…Two…Three!" Nothing moved. "Okay, here it goes," she cocked back the bow.

  "Wait! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" That's when Andrew, under the pile of clothes, threw them off his head and showed himself. "Don't shoot. I didn't know who you were. Or, what you were."

  "Feasters don't talk, dummy."

  "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I-I was freaked out," Andrew stammered nervously.

  It was then that Emily noticed Andrew’s face. Pale. Sickly. She didn’t say anything about it. "Well, you just gonna lay there or are you offering up your body as a buffet for the Feasters?"

  "Feasters? That's the second time you called them that. We are talking about the zombies, right?" He thought it over letting the word Feasters roll off his tongue. "I like it."

  Emily, never one to hide if she's annoyed, said, "Well, seriously, we don't know how much time we have." She walked over to the window and peered out to the street below. "The good news is that you haven't attracted any more of them."

  "The bad news is…" Andrew pulled the pile of clothes off the rest of his body.

  That's when Emily discovered why Andrew looked so sickly. His jeans, ripped from the knee down, exposed a gnarly gash about six inches long. Sticking out of the gash was fragmented bone. The skin around the wound was a mixture of dried blood and decayed skin. Emily tried not to show much emotion. "Yeah, the bad news is that you’re dead already. Do you want me to end it for you? I'm not really big on killing the living, b
ut I don't love to see anyone suffer either.” She pulled the arrow out of the dead Feaster and put it back into her quiver. “I’ll try to make it quick. You don't want to end up like that thing." She threw a thumb over her shoulder.

  "Umm, no. I don't want to end up that way at all," Andrew says, but before he could get out the next word, Emily already had another arrow fastened onto her compound bow. "Whoa, whoa! Don't do that!" Andrew cried out in panic.

  "You just said that you didn't want to end up like that."

  "This can't be the only option!" Andrew shouted.

  "Shh. Keep your voice down," Emily warned, peeking down the hallway towards the stairs and loosening her grip on the arrow and bowstring. "Look, I'm not sure if you know what's happening to you, but that broken leg? It's as good as gone and so are you. That black stuff all around? That's probably blood poisoning and that skin of yours is dying. To top it off, you probably have an infection coursing through your veins. You need medicine, and if you haven't looked around lately, we’re in short supply. You have to accept that you are as good as dead. Let me just take away your pain." She pulled back on the bowstring again.

  "No, no, no! This can't be the only way." Tears filled his eyes.

  "I'm not taking you with me. There's no telling when you’ll die, and then you’ll become one of them," she pointed the arrow again referring to the fallen Feaster. She thought for a minute, "Well, I can just leave you here, but I'm telling you. You’re gonna wish I took care of this for you. I hear this is pain you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy."

  Andrew looked down at his leg through his tears, managing a chuckle, "It's so numb right now, I can't really feel much of anything." He pulled an aluminum bat out from under the pile of clothes and tapped the wound. Emily figured the bat was his last line of defense, so he still had a little fight left in him.

  "The fever in your eyes tells me differently. What are you proposing I do with you?"

  "Take me with you."

  "You've got to be kidding me. You can't even walk," Emily scoffed, not hiding her annoyance. "I'm leaving." She turned and walked out of the room.

  "Wait! Please, wait! Hear me out!" He stared at the open door in panic and defeat. Finally, he dropped his head, feeling doomed to his fate.

  "Arrgh. Fine, how do you suppose that I take you with me?" She appeared back in the doorway. Andrew lifted his head and smiled. That smile that still catches Emily off guard, even these days.

  "Look, I agree. I'm going to die. I know that, but the idea of dying alone," his smile evaporated, "scares me to my very core." Tears poured down his face. "Also, I'm not dumb. I know what you are." Emily stiffened, furrowing her eyebrows. Andrew continued, "I can tell. There's something in your eyes that tells me you’re different, one of them. You're a Vamp." Emily froze, wondering what to do next. Deny? Admit? Before she could decide what to say, Andrew pressed, "I'm right, aren't I?" Emily let the question hang heavily in the air. Without waiting for an answer, Andrew said desperately, "I've heard what you can do. I know it's asking a lot, but you could just carry me or something like that. A piggyback ride through the land of the dead. It’ll be like a date." He flashed that smile.

  Emily rolled her eyes, "Seriously?"

  "Please. I don't want to die alone," his voice breaking.

  "Oh my gosh, I can't even believe I'm considering this." As if she already had her mind made up, she darted downstairs.

  "Hey, hey! Where are you going? Please, come back," Andrew cried out.

  Within seconds, Emily returned with a broom and quickly snapped the wooden handle into three parts. She grabbed the duct tape secured around her belt and started to assemble a splint. As she started to tape the pieces of the handle, she looked up at Andrew and was surprised he was looking at her. Regardless of how sick he appeared; his stare made her blush. She played it off, "So, it doesn't freak you out that I'm a Vamp?" She pulled the tape hard, causing Andrew to groan.

  "Are you asking me if I'm scared? The answer is no. I'm dying anyway. Right now, being alone is the only thing I'm afraid of. Besides, I think your kind is misunderstood. You guys don't drink human blood anymore, right?" He asked more to convince himself.

  Emily didn’t answer. Instead, she reached up for a leather belt hanging in the closet. "You’re going to want to bite down on this."

  "Why?" In one movement, she shoved the belt into his mouth and pushed the bone back into the opening in his leg. Andrew screamed while biting down on the belt. While holding the bone down with one hand, she secured the loose end of the duct tape and wrapped it around his leg three times. She reached up and pulled the belt out of his mouth.

  Sweat streamed from his already matted hair. He grunted, "You could have given me a heads up. I mean, seriously!"

  "Trust me. It's easier this way," she said, rolling her eyes.

  Silently, Emily finished the splint. Once it was done, she helped him to his feet with the help of Andrew's bat as a crutch. Arm in arm, they moved down the stairs and made their way to the back door. Emily took her quiver off her back noting how strange it felt to go outside without it on. She fastened it to Andrew's back along with the compound bow. With one motion, she hoisted him onto her back and handed him the bat. Immediately, the warmth of his feverish body permeated through her clothes. "You ready to go? You've got to keep your eyes peeled. If you see anything that moves, you gotta let me know."

  As the blood moved towards his wound, the pain began to come in pulses. Through grunts, Andrew said, "It's not my first rodeo. I know what to expect. How far do we have to go?"

  "It’s just a few blocks." Emily walked out the sliding glass door and moved towards the side gate. Once out into the street, Emily moved from car to car using the shadows created by the moonlight to hide. As they turned a corner, Andrew spotted a few straggling Feasters and whispered, "Um, I don't want to freak you out, but it looks like we've got company."

  Emily spun around to assess the situation. Ducking behind a Suburban, she knelt and carefully dismounted Andrew from her back, securing him up against the tire. "This is so stupid. Such a bad idea." She pulled an arrow out and surveyed again. On the bumper side of the Suburban, a small group of Feasters, seven or eight in all, flocked slowly yet dangerously close to the street side of the SUV. She sat back weighing her options. Fight or sit and wait? If fighting was an option, it would be just her versus the zombies. It wasn't like Andrew would be much help. He was too weak. Deciding to wait it out, she ducked next to Andrew. Sensing Andrew staring at her, she sighed heavily. "Why are you looking at me?"

  He flashed that smile, which, even with his face looking increasingly sick, caused her to blush again. "You know, under that tough exterior," he whispered, "I can tell you are a nice person, uh – vampire, whatever."

  "Yeah," she said, blowing a strand of hair from her face, "well, don't be too sure about that. Up until about twenty minutes ago, I was going to drive an arrow through your skull."

  He reached his feverish hand out to touch Emily's fingers, catching her off guard. "Thank you so much for not doing that."

  Distracted by Andrew’s smile, Emily was caught off guard by two Feasters who broke away from the flock and came behind the Suburban. If it weren't for the throaty groan of one of the zombies, they wouldn't have survived the attack. Emily, always quick to act, pulled a smaller short-range arrow with her right hand and jabbed it straight into the zombie's temple without as much as turning her head. The zombie fell limp, but unexpectantly, pinned her down, holding her in place for the next Feaster. The zombie, a female in a shredded nurse's uniform, tripped over her partner and crawled up toward Emily's face. With her hands, she tried to pull out the short-range arrow embedded in the other Feaster's head, but it wouldn't budge. Instead, she attempted to push the zombie away from her. It wasn’t working, and the nurse zombie thrashed in an attempt to move up and make a meal of Emily's head.

  PING! The Feaster suddenly fell flat. Emily, eyes wide open in fright, frantically looked around to see what
happened. Andrew was face down on the floor, panting. During the attack, he managed to pull himself to his feet with the support of the aluminum bat. With the strength he had left, he brought the bat down onto the base of the Feaster's skull.

  Emily dropped her head back onto the sidewalk heaving heavy breaths of relief. "Thank you," she panted. "I owe you one."

  Andrew turned over, his leg throbbing. "Nope," he gasped. "We're even." And with that, he passed out.

  Emily looked over at him, the moon casting enough light to show his face. Even unconscious, he managed a sleepy grin. She rolled her eyes and both zombies off of her and took inventory. No bites, but her clothes, covered in Feaster saliva and blood, were going to need cleaning. Getting to her feet, she fastened the quiver and crossbow to her back along with the aluminum bat. She bent down, brushed the hair from Andrew's eyes, and picked him up, cradling him like a baby. For the last block, she carried him, feeling his increasing temperature, doubting he would even make it alive. Deep down she hoped he would.

  As she bolted in the back door, she cried out to me, "Kieran! Kieran! Where are you?" She moved over to the couch in the dark living room illuminated by a few candles. While balancing on one foot, she managed to slide the coffee table out of the way and placed Andrew on the couch. Quickly, she grabbed a candle to look him over. "Kieran!"

  "What?" I bit back a little snippy. "Back from your little excursion so soon? I really hate that you go out there on –,”

  "Knock it off. Look."

  "Look at what?" I responded, looking around Emily to see what she was doing. "What is that?" I joined her side. "Oh my gosh, Emily! What did you do?"