Barely Alive (8 page)

“
Go ahead and poke her.” I whispered. I couldn’t meet her eyes. She trusted me – at least she had. She would again. I just wished I could tell her why.

Surprise slackened Dominic’s features for the barest second, but it passed in a breath. He tightened his hold, his eyes hooded in shadow.

I ignored the panic dilating Heather’s pupils. She’d survive, if she could survive my marking her back with my teeth. Just thinking of the flavor made my saliva pour forth. I guarantee I was drooling when I’d broken through, too. “How long will it take for her to change?”

My question startled both of them. Heather tried to see Dominic over her shoulder but couldn’t move much.

“
What are you playing at?” Dominic withdrew the needle an inch and considered me. I was banking on his egotistical need to strut. He took me up on the chance to display his knowledge. “On average, it takes no more than fifteen seconds for the hunger to set in, about a minute for the strength. That’s if she can change. If she can’t, then she’ll die.”

He’d dropped a large bomb in that moment. I held my expletive, but couldn’t contain my question. “What do you mean if she can change? If you don’t change, you die? Is it immediate?” Okay, more than one question, but seriously, Dominic just drops tidbits of information like they aren’t important. She could die from that bite. Because she didn’t change.
Could she still die?

Dominic huffed. “Yes, if she doesn’t change, she’ll die – immediately. It’s about the same time frame. She’ll become paralyzed in about five seconds and then die within a minute. It’s how I know who to feed to the boys and who not to.” His voice drifted off and he studied the ground by my feet. “At least, that’s what’s happened so far. I think it might be a genetic marker, but I can’t correlate the difference in spacing the immunoglobulins versus the antibodies. The cells breakdown before I can get that far.” He lifted his gaze to find me watching him, my forehead raised. He looked away. “Although, that’s not saying much. I’ve had two or three not change for hours, almost a day. I think it depends on the genetic composition, but I haven’t had enough people to study.”

Did he think I gave a rat’s ass about his insufficiencies? I wanted Heather. He didn’t. Not in the way I did, or actually maybe I was the one that wanted her in the way he did, but
also
in my own way. No, not to eat. Ugh. I was confusing myself. I should have hung out with the cow a bit longer.

I shifted my feet and crossed my arms over my chest. My thoughts had transferred to food… so close. “Can we please do this? Poke her or let her go. You and I have some stuff to work out.” Yes, I meant I wanted to eat him.

Understanding raked the smugness from his face.

The needle was pretty big. Looked like an 18-gauge, but I couldn’t be sure through the gathering gray fingers of smoke pinching the air. Collapsing wood fell somewhere in the back of the burning building. In one swift moment the needle was in her soft flesh and Dominic plunged the virus into her system. I winced.

Heather screamed. “You son of a bitch!”

She sobbed.

Dominic tossed the used syringe to the ground. He smirked and pushed her from him. “Let’s see how she handles the meat in the warehouse. Show you how it’s done, eh, Paully?” He stood and moved around behind the waist-high cement wall. He thrummed his fingers on the rock and waited. I could almost see him counting the seconds in his head. I watched him.

But I couldn’t hide my conclusions any more. Didn’t want to. I’d bit her and she hadn’t changed. Or died. Dominic didn’t know about the bite, didn’t know I’d drooled all over her back, licked every inch of skin between her shoulder blades in my “quest” to clean up the evidence.

She wasn’t going to react as Dominic described. I knew what was going to happen – or not, as it were. Heather sobbed, tears streaking the dust on her cheeks. I would’ve held her, but I needed to keep my attention on Dominic.

His face changed. I couldn’t place the emotion, if I tried. But I liked it. Confusion, maybe? Or fear? Or maybe a combination of the two. I couldn’t be sure.

Dominic stepped toward Heather, but didn’t round the foundation wall. “I don’t understand. Hello? What is going on? Hey!” He snapped his fingers toward her face. “Do you want to eat me?”

“
Ew. That’s gross. I don’t want you near me.” Heather rubbed the sore spot on her arm. Her glower hadn’t softened. The passing of time dawned on her and she looked at me. “I’m not like you?” I shook my head. She tasted her next words. “And I’m not dead.”

A small smile split my mouth and showered my unsurprised delight on her. I’d have the chance to explain the bite later. She’d be pissed, but at least she was alive.

Dominic watched me, his eyes burning holes in my dying skin. “You knew she wouldn’t change? How did you know, Paul?” He glanced between us and reached for Heather. “Where did you bite her, you sneaky little bastard? I didn’t see any marks. That’s the only way you could know.”

A screech sliced through the smoky haze. I grabbed Heather and shoved her behind me. No way in hell were we sticking around, but I needed some meat and I needed it now. And something else was coming. We wouldn’t be safe out in the open.

Moving as one, Heather and I shuffled to the barn door. We could hide in there, until the predator moved on.

And it was something like me…

I pushed the door open and shoved her through. Another screech ricocheted off the buildings, a lower pitch than the first.

My gaze met Dominic’s. He stumbled around the foundation toward me, hand outstretched. But I sidled in after Heather and slammed the door shut, locking it from the inside with a large bar. I leaned against the door.

Heather clamped her hands over her mouth. She stood two feet from me.

“
Let me in, Paul. Now. If she’s immune, her family is, too. Let me in, or I’m going after them.” His mouth had to be just on the other side of the door, his words amplified but dulled by the wood. “And she won’t be able to recognize them when I’m done. Maybe I’ll visit yours, too.”

Heather gasped. “No. My family…”

My family… I lifted the bar an inch, two…

Dominic’s fists hit the door – once, twice, three times – a screech, a scream, another screech and a thud of body on body.

I dropped the bar. My breaths came fast and shallow.

Heather moved a foot from me.

Another pounding on the thick door, a different tempo, a different strength, easily distracted by a sound from across the yard.

Heather was in my arms, biting my shirt, shaking, spasms claiming her limbs.

The animals had moved against the far wall, whites of their eyes clear as they rolled in fear.

Sweet, heady, yet subtle, the scent of her blood consumed me. I leaned in to her hair and sniffed softly. She froze. Certain I was about to eat her.

Let’s face it, I was certain I was going to, too.

But I closed my eyes, pushed her from me, and said as quiet as I could, “Heather, I need to eat. Meat. Not you, but I need to eat and you’re just gonna have to suck it up.” I swallowed. “Face the wall, cover your ears, whatever you need to do to protect yourself from seeing this. Those animals are going down.” I waited a full second, two, three, four and – she nodded. I blew out the air I’d held while waiting for her answer.

She pulled from me and shoved her face into the corner and plugged her ears with her fingers. A strange humming sound followed, like she sang to herself.

I’d already turned toward the animals. Saliva coated my tongue. Odd how I’d never noticed the faint licorice taste. I slid my shirt off over my head. Things were about to get messy.

The cow would have to go first. I needed fat and the thing was huge. I’d hit up a pig next.

I moved faster than any predator they recognized. I broke the cow’s neck. He collapsed to the ground. I tore into his side with a ferocity I hadn’t recognized in myself. The texture, heat, coppery salt, and moisture heightened my senses. I ate and ate. And ate. Oh, my hell, I ate some more. And more. And more. And hell, more.

Cow gone. Hide, bones, and organs – oops, not the spleen, liver, or heart – but the rest of them discarded in a massive lake of blood.

The slight satiety consoled me. How had I gone so long without food? The pig squealed.
Oh, I would love some bacon, thank you.
My arms swelled. The muscles in my legs and back had been strengthened. I needed more.

This little piggy cried whee-whee-whee
. I sighed. Yum. Why the hell would someone cook pork?

Chapter 7

Of the three pigs, I left only one standing. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to eat the little hot dog, but from the bangs on the front of the building, so did some others. I’d had more in those few minutes than I’d had in a while. I didn’t have to be a glutton. I shuddered at the thought of eating chicken. Fowl had never been on my list of favorites.

Heather hadn’t uncovered her eyes, but she’d moved from the corner by the front door and stood on the line where the hay mingled with the cement – half in my world and half in hers.

I wiped my mouth, but didn’t do any good with my arms covered in blood to the elbows. I crossed to a bucket of water by the cow remains and dipped my hands in to rinse as fast as I could. Like eating ribs at a local steakhouse. I splashed water on my face.

Bam. Bam. Bam. More insistent. Multiple hands pounding. The smell of the blood must have permeated the wood of the building. Either that, or they had seen where we’d escaped after abandoning Dominic. Or it was Dominic on the other side.

I hoped he tasted good – if he was delicious, then they wouldn’t stop eating him and I wouldn’t have to worry about him coming back.

My refreshed blood sang in my ears. I couldn’t focus. Too many thoughts ran through my brain. Too many possibilities. Like hummingbirds in flight. Hm. Hummingbirds might taste good. But they’re kind of small —

“
Can we get out of here?” Heather’s voice became my rock, a stable slab for me to anchor my thoughts to.

I was seriously like a damn dog or something.
Focus, Paul, you’re driving me nuts.
But at least I didn’t want to eat her any more. Much.

Standing, I spun in a slow circle while crossing toward Heather away from the carcasses on the floor. I grabbed my discarded shirt and tucked it in my back pocket. I’d finish air drying before pulling it on.

My search revealed no windows, but a rake, three shovels and some saws hung on the far wall. Pens that were really nothing more than small office-like cubicles lined the interior. Things had been tight for these poor animals. I puffed my chest a bit, glad in a way that I’d helped them out in that respect.

Hey, they could have been humans.

No doors. No escape hatches – I stubbed my sliding toes on a large metal ring poking half out of the yellowish brown hay. The circle wouldn’t move when I kicked it. Had to be hooked onto the cement floor. I scraped the hay from around the hooks base and knelt to run my fingers over grainy gray-painted wood.

“
Heather. Come here.” I whispered, trying to be no noisier than the scratching chicken feet or the shuffle of the pig’s hooves.

She dropped her hands and ran the few feet to my side. I had to give her credit for not looking toward the mess, even though it was behind her and I hadn’t given her a chance to search for it.

Kneeling, she couldn’t drag her attention from the rattling door. They were close. So close the rumbling in their chests harmonized with the riotous rhythm. Crap, they might be like Tom. How old could they be then?

I pulled on the ring with one hand. Then added another. Yanked. Pulled. Pushed. The shaking building created genuine fear for Heather’s safety – they’d never hurt me.

I hoped.

Heather pressed her hand on my arm. She leaned her mouth close to my ear. Yeah, I could have turned my head and kissed her right there, laid her on the ground and… Well, not really, but it was hot. She whispered, “Try turning it.”

Turning it to the right didn’t do much, but to the left the turns released a cranking sound. No more than two feet square, the door opened easily revealing a ladder.

The sound of wood splintering covered my voice. “Go!”

Heather scrambled down into the hole.

I shot one last longing look at the final pig. Pushed as much of the straw around the hole and on top of the angled door as I could, and then climbed down myself, closing the trap door with a hollow bang and shutting out the light.

The ladder had five rungs. I could have jumped in. The hole was shallow enough I couldn’t stand up all the way once I’d reached the bottom.

Claustrophobia overtook me. I pressed my hands above my shoulders. The walls, floor, and ceiling were concrete. My finger traced blunt edges from a hand trowel indented in various spots.

Heather’s honeysuckle scent was the only indication she was down there. She didn’t betray her position.

Every sound overhead came to us as if through a long tunnel, delayed and without clarity.

Pounding.

Crash. There went the door.