Ravenous (Book 1 The Ravening Series)

CHAPTER 1

  
Frozen.

   Completely and utterly
freaking
frozen
.

   One second the woman had been speaking. She had
, in fact, been half way through the nice of have a nice day. Her mouth was still forming the ni of nice, the syllable was the last sound she’d uttered before she’d completely stopped moving. Her face had not gone slack, her hand had not dropped to her side, she had not fallen to the ground but simply become
freaking
frozen
into this strange mannequin-like thing standing behind the counter. She stared unerringly at me, but it seemed as if she no longer saw me as I watched her unblinking, vacant brown eyes. Her eyes had never left me but I was certain she no longer saw anything anymore. I kept waiting for her to come back to life, to finish her sentence, to hand me my change, but as the seconds ticked into minutes I slowly began to realize that she was not going to move. Slowly began to realize that she was not playing some sort of sick, demented trick on me.   

  
She had in fact suddenly,
instantaneously,
been struck completely immobile.

  
It was the oddest, most unnerving thing I had ever seen and all I could do was gape at her. I continued to stand there, not because I wanted to, no one in their right mind would
want
to keep standing there, but simply because I was shocked into immobility. I was not struck suddenly inert like the woman across from me, but I was entirely immobile with shock and horror as I gazed at her. I finally managed to close my mouth. Not because I was recovering from the astonishment that still gripped me so tightly, but because a little bit of drool had started to form at the corners of my mouth, and my jaw actually hurt from gawking at her for so long.

   Though I managed to make the small movement of closing my mouth, I could
not make any others. I could not drop the arm that was extended across the counter. I could not close the open hand still waiting in expectation of
my
change clasped within the woman’s hand. I had absolutely no intention of touching the woman in order to retrieve it either.

   I didn’t care how scarce money was nowadays, I was
not
touching her. And I would have to touch her if I was going to get it back. I would actually have to pry open her clasped fingers in order to retrieve what was mine, because it was becoming painfully obvious that the woman was not going to move again.

  
I shuddered in horror at the thought. I didn’t know what that hand felt like, it was probably still warm because she had only frozen minutes ago, but in my mind it was cold and clammy. Even though she was still on her feet, even though I didn’t know if she really
was
dead, in my mind her hand would feel as cold and clammy as a corpse’s.

   A small spasm
jerked through my extended arm, causing it to jump slightly. It wasn’t the aching pain in my stiff arm that finally caused me to pull it back, but the fact that the small twitch had almost caused me to
touch
her. The thought was utterly repulsive to me. My arm fell limply back to my side, my mouth parted slightly again.

   For
the first time in awhile, I blinked. Then, I closed my watering eyes, squeezing them tight as I prayed silently that everything would be normal when I opened them once more. It was not.

  
Slowly I raised my hand and waved it in front of her unblinking, unseeing eyes. There was no response. I thought that perhaps I should hit her, maybe pinch her, but that brought me back to the having to touch her aspect. Throw something at her? I glanced at the gum stacked before the counter. It was a soft projectile but hard enough that it would get someone’s attention. Maybe it would wake her up, but I didn’t think it would work, and I couldn’t bring myself to heave something at the defenseless woman.
It seemed horrendously wrong.

  
I took a small step back, swallowing heavily as I looked slowly around the store. Though it had not been crowded, it was suddenly easy to pick out every person amongst the racks of souvenir clothes (clothes that didn’t sell much anymore, at least not to tourists as we had few of those now) and candy counters. Mainly because none of them were moving too. I doubted throwing something at them would work either.

   It was eerily quiet
within the store. I didn’t hear any movement on the street outside either. Driving had been banned a month ago (I now realized why), but I didn’t even hear the hum of bicycle tires or the thumping footsteps and chatter of people. The soft murmur of conversations had vanished. The street sounded just as dead as the store now appeared. The hum of the store’s air conditioner was frighteningly loud in the unnerving hush.

   I turned slowly toward the door. The
blinds were drawn over the window, blocking out the bright summer sunlight. It was impossible to see if the rest of the world had been as affected as the store. I wanted to believe that it hadn’t, that this store was an isolated incident, but I knew it wasn’t. A cold chill, that had nothing to do with the ac unit, raced down my spine. The hairs on my neck and arms stood on end, the room swam and blurred violently before me as fear threatened to choke me.

   The store was cool, I was sweating
profusely. I could barely breathe; I was going to throw up. Nausea coiled through me, it burned its way up my throat. I could taste it, feel it, and yet I was somehow able to keep it down. This was the weirdest, creepiest, most
terrifying
thing I had experienced in years, but I could not throw up in this store. The act of doing so somehow seemed even more wrong and degrading than the situation surrounding me now.

   I was hyperventilating though. I knew that. I couldn’t breathe and yet the more I gasped for air, the
less I was able to get into my lungs. I needed fresh air, I needed
out
of this store. My bag was still on the counter, but I didn’t want to grasp hold of it. I was sure my mom would forgive me for not bringing the milk home.

   My mom!

   My heart hammered painfully, my chest compressed tightly. Nausea swelled swiftly through me again. I managed to take a stumbling, awkward step back. Was my mom like these people? Was she one of
them
now, or was she like me? Was there
anyone
else like me? Was I the
only
one? And why was I still able to move while they couldn’t? What the hell had happened to them, would it happen to me?

   That thought caused fresh terror to pulse through me. My adrenaline was kicking so fiercely that I was shaking from the effects of it. I glanced over the people again. They remained frozen. Not a one of them had moved in the past five minutes. I hadn
’t even seen them take a breath, but they had to be breathing, didn’t they? Were they dead? Would they ever move again?

  
The questions rolled rapidly through my mind, making me dizzy with panic and confusion. They kept slamming through me, but I didn’t have answers to any of them. I couldn’t even begin to fathom the answers to any of them. Though I did not want to go anywhere near the woman again, I knew I had to grab that bag. If my mom wasn’t like this, then I suddenly
had
to deliver that milk to her. And if she was…

   I shut the thought down; it was too much to handle right now. This situation was awful enough without adding to it.
Darting forward, I snagged hold of the bag and ripped it off the counter. The rustle of the plastic set my teeth on edge. It was far too loud in the eerie silence that suddenly enshrouded the earth. I ground my jaw, fighting back a scream of terror as I took a swift step back. The woman remained unmoving, her hand still extended with my change. Her warm brown eyes didn’t even flicker as I waved a hand slowly in front of her face. I wanted to check to see if she was still breathing, if she had a pulse, but try as I might I could
not
bring myself to touch her. I was ashamed of my cowardice but the thought was completely revolting.

   I edged toward the door, scared to
take my eyes off of the human statues. I didn’t know what the hell they would be like if they came to life again. Images of every zombie movie I had ever seen flashed rapidly through my mind, I could almost see them coming to life and attacking me. I could picture them tearing me to shreds as they tried to get at my brains, and organs. I shuddered in disgust.

   Reaching the door, I pulled down on the blinds in order to peek out
at the seemingly peaceful day. The streets were still, no one moved upon them. People were frozen in midstride, or leaning against store fronts. Some were stopped in mid conversation with their hands in the air, or their heads tilted back to peer at the sky. A man and woman had been riding their bikes down the road when the strange freezing had occurred. They were now sprawled upon the street, their feet tangled awkwardly in the toppled bikes. The wheels were still spinning slowly; they were the only movement in the otherwise still day. Neither of them had made an attempt to break their fall, they had simply face planted into the asphalt. Blood was trickling slowly from the man’s nose; it dripped onto the pavement, forming a puddle beneath him. The woman’s face was obscured by her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders.

   It was a horrifying sight, one that I could not tear my eyes away from. Swallowing heavily I tried to gather my courage to step onto that deserted, desolate street. Was there no one else that could still move? I
couldn’t
be the only one. That thought was almost as terrifying as becoming one of the frozen people.

  
If I was frozen at least I wouldn’t be alone, and perhaps I wouldn’t even know what had happened to me. Or perhaps, chillingly, I would.

   I removed my trembling hand from the blind. I could not stay here, I needed to move. I needed to get to my family, to see if they were safe. I needed
someone to help me sort this all out. Slowly, I eased the door open. The small bell above it rang softly, a gentle sound that was piercingly sharp in the quiet day. I winced at the noise, scrunching up within myself as I waited for something to attack me. Everything remained quiet.

   Involuntarily my gaze went to the sky. A cold trickle of horror crept through me as I caught sight of the ship ho
vering over Boston. It was a good sixty miles away but its ominous presence was felt just as strongly. I shuddered at the reminder of it, shuddered at the realization that though they had spouted peace, they had finally revealed themselves to be anything but peaceful. Something I had suspected for a long time, though I had never suspected anything like
this
.

  
Who could have?

   I slipped from the store, closing the door silently behind me.
It took me a moment to realize that not even the birds were singing. I glanced sharply around, but I did not see animal bodies littered amongst the people in the streets. They may have been affected also, but I didn’t think so. There would at least be a few birds lying amongst the people if that was the case. Apparently the birds had even been scared off by the sudden pall that hung over the world.

   My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as I crept slowly through the still streets
, trying hard not to burst into tears or flee screaming. I studied the alien ship wearily. It was not coming toward our town, it did not appear to be moving, but I knew it was only a matter of time before they appeared in the streets, before they came to take everyone. And somehow I knew that was exactly what they intended to do.

   It was what they were going to
do
with everyone after they came that frightened me the most.

  
I slipped down another street, keeping my eye on the hovering craft in the distance. Bret had once told me he thought they had eyes everywhere, that they knew our every move. I could only pray that he had been wrong. Their technology was far superior then ours, that was an undisputed fact, but I had to cling to the hope that they hadn’t mastered the ability to know where
every
person was at all times.

   Please let that be true, I pleaded frantically. Please.
I was nobody of importance, there was no reason they would monitor my movements.

   I turned another corner, slinking through the shadows as I
moved toward the center of town. My heart was thudding so hard it hurt. I didn’t know if it was possible for the inside of a ribcage to become bruised, but I was almost certain that mine was.

  
People were scattered about the streets in different positions and different situations. One couple was kissing and another was holding hands on a bench. A family was getting their picture taken by the old mill, and a group of children were frozen in the middle of a game of tag. I stopped for a moment to study the children. Goose pimples broke out on my flesh, even in the hot summer sun I was chilled by the sight of them. They were the creepiest things I had come across so far, so innocent yet eerie and unnerving in their immobility.