Best New Werewolf Tales (Vol. 1) (22 page)

Any kind of quality shelter will have one main entrance, but also a reliable backdoor.

I stop and let my mind chew on that thought. It seems important, relevant to the situation at hand. Grunting, I stagger back outside and glance down the narrow alley running next to the building. That’s when I see what I’m looking for: a fire escape. Someone has arranged a pile of bricks on the fourth level of the fire escape, which extends downward to the second floor. There, the extension ladder has been removed, replaced with a handmade rope ladder.

It’s a good system. The people inside can use the fire escape for offense, dropping brick bombs on any zombies nearby. They can also use the rope ladder defensively to escape, but the humans have left it unguarded. Foolish.

My dim-witted colleagues follow me into the alley. I shove Chef against the brick wall and make several awkward attempts to climb onto his shoulders. He stares back at me with a wounded, dumb expression and collapses under my weight. When that doesn’t work, I start to shove a dumpster underneath the fire escape. The others catch on eventually. Or more likely they’re just imitating me. Finally, we get the dumpster into position.

I shove the female zombie couple up onto the dumpster, point upward and grunt until they climb onto the fire escape. Since the bricks are on the fourth floor landing, I’m assuming that’s where our breakfast lives. I wait until the girls are on the third floor before heading back to the front lobby.

When I get to the stairwell entrance, I can already hear broken glass, screams, and gunfire from the fourth floor. Just as I suspected, a few of the humans—perhaps the weakest of the herd—are the first to try to escape, rather then stand their ground. I’m in perfect position to attack when the stairwell door opens.

It’s Melanie.

Mel. Even though it’s only been a few months since I left, she looks so much older. Her hair is still dyed pink, but is now pulled into a simple braid. Gone is the lip ring and other jewelry. Her normally pale face, once so much like a full moon, is now tanned and dirty. I reach out to hug her, the following words on my lips:
Honey, I missed you so much. I’m so glad you’re okay.
Except what comes out is a rattling moan.

She takes a step backward, holds up a handgun, and shoots me right in the head.

* * *

For a long while after the Wolf first got inside me, I thought I could hold on to my family. It wasn’t uncommon for my job to send me out of town on business, so I made sure that I was always away during the full moon. Then my asshole brother decided to get married during the day of a full moon, which screwed up all my plans.

I went to the wedding, a fairly small affair. Mel, she was one of the bridesmaids. I remember staring at her across the aisle as the minister read the vows to my brother’s bride.

Do you take this man to have and to hold
––

Later, I gave the toast at the reception, a swanky golf club nearby. I danced with my wife and daughter, and drank a lot of wine. I was in the bathroom when the change came. I stared at myself in the mirror, a look of surprise on my face. And then, my eyes. They were laughing at me. The Wolf was laughing. The damn beast had tricked me, let me lose track of time. As hair slid out of my flesh, I climbed out the window and ran across the well-manicured lawn.

––
for better or for worse in sickness and in health
—

I woke up the next morning wearing only a pair of tattered tuxedo pants. Next to me was a dead girl in a bridesmaid dress. My heart squeezed into a fist. I knew it had to be Mel. Imagine my relief when I turned over the bloody corpse and found one of the other bridesmaids.

––
as long as you both shall live?

The Wolf had sent me a message. It let me know that no one is safe. After that, I left town, vowing never to return.

* * *

So, that’s it. I should be dead, right? Everyone knows that the one way to kill a zombie is to shoot it in the head.

Except I’m okay.

The bullet tears easily through my skull, and suddenly I’ve lost binocular vision. My little girl shot out my left eye.

It sounds like a lightbulb shattering when the bullet exits out the back of my skull. I fall backward, more from surprise than from the impact.

Some of the other zombies must have followed me from the alley, because Mel is now surrounded, firing her gun until it clicks uselessly. She shoots down all but two zombies, a pregnant woman in a sundress and a fit Latino wearing only a wife-beater, who have cornered her behind an ATM machine. My daughter screams as the zombies grab her, tearing the sleeve off of her blue t-shirt.

Next, she whimpers in surprise as I snap the zombies’ heads back and slam them head-first onto the lobby floor. I then stomp their heads one after another until my heels are covered with skull and rotten brains.

When it’s done, the only sound is Mel’s sharp breathing. No, wait. Something’s squirming inside pregnant zombie’s bloated stomach. Ever so faintly, I can hear something toothless trying to eat its way out.

I already feel a tingle where my eye used to be. It’s coming back.

“Daddy?” says Mel.

It’s the first time she’s called me that since puberty slapped her in the face. I want so much to hug her, but can’t be that close to her. If I touch her, the hunger will consume me. And I will consume her.

So instead, I nod and wave her away. On my way back to the stairwell, I stop and kick her gun over to her. Hopefully she has more bullets. At the stairwell door, I turn and blow her a kiss. Grunt.

She whispers to me. “Thank you, Daddy.”

* * *

Walking upstairs, I feel like I’m shedding skin. Walking away from Mel is like a new beginning for me. I’m leaving humanity behind. I’m becoming something new. Part of a new family, where I’m the strongest and smartest. The alpha male.

When I make my way to the hotel room on the fourth floor, it’s already covered in blood and gore. The two women are sharing the entrails of an overweight black man. Abbie and Gail are gnawing at an elderly woman’s face and hands. Chef has his own victim, a Goth chick with lip piercings and multi-colored tattoos covering her chest and arms. She watches in horror as Chef tears out her intestines, gnawing at the pulpy flesh. I fall next to her, pushing Chef away. He growls under his breath and crawls into the corner, taking her intestines with him. The tangled mess of her insides unravels out of her stomach.

I tear off the remains of her shirt. Her left breast is covered with a bright tattoo of a lunging tiger. I bite into her chest, catching the tiger by the tail. She screams, gurgles, chokes, and shudders. I swallow.

It occurs to me then that I’ve been eating people for years, and it’s always been a very lonely pursuit, something that I’ve never clearly remembered. Now, it feels so good to share the experience. All around me, my gang of zombies moans and bites and grunts. The room is filled with the sounds of squishing, biting, tearing, and swallowing.

It’s a feeding frenzy.

As I gnaw on the Goth’s face, it occurs to me that biting Gail must have been what turned me into a zombie. It makes sense, if you think about it. If a zombie bites you, you eventually become one of them. Likewise, if you bite a zombie, you eventually become a zombie.

If you’re a werewolf who bites a zombie?

Near as I can figure, the lycanthropy disease and the zombie virus must have somehow blended together, putting me in my current state. When I become the Wolf—rather, when the Wolf forces itself out of me—my mind, maybe even my soul, gets shut down. It’s like the Wolf puts my core essence in isolation, so that the Wolf can do whatever it wants. It’s that isolation that has kept me from going insane over the years. Now, that isolation that has kept my personality and thoughts intact.

I’m a zombie with a werewolf’s healing abilities.

I’m practically invincible.

I’ve got my mind, an unstoppable body, and the world is mine to conquer. What of the Wolf? My skull is silent. If the Wolf is in there, it’s being quieter than ever. Is it possible? Am I cured?

It’s almost dusk by the time we finish eating. Soon, the moon will sit all bloated in the sky, staring down at me with its unblinking eye. What will it see?

* * *

When I lead my pack outside, bloated on fresh meat, I gaze into the sky. Apprehension squirms in my gut. Or maybe it’s just maggots.

The moon sits low in the sky behind some buildings, pregnant with possibilities.

And nothing happens.

I’m cured. That wolf that has plagued me for more than a lifetime is gone, driven out of my body by the zombie plague. That damn beast is the reason that I couldn’t live a normal life, and now I’m free of it forever. And by forever, I mean forever.

I’m beyond death. Beyond life.

I raise my fist to the sky and moan—a ragged, contemptuous noise.

Behind me, my fellow zombies echo my sentiment. At least, that’s what I think at first. They’re certainly making a lot of noise, but when I turn around, they’ve fallen to the pavement. Their dull yellow eyes are glowing in the moonlight. Jagged fangs split rank gums. Grey fur slides out of blue skin. Chipped nails extend from filthy fingertips.

It’s the little girl, Gail, who attacks me first, lunging and biting at my thigh. Following her lead, the rest of the zombie werewolves leap upon me, knocking me to the ground. Abbie and Gail snarl and moan over my chest, tearing at my neck. Soon, their muzzles are covered with thick, black blood. Chef tears at my abdomen. The rest gnaw at my arms and legs.

The wolves consume me. It takes them most of the night, but they manage to eat most all of me: fingers, legs, intestines, lungs, and so on. They leave only the upper chest and head.

The worst part? I’m perfectly awake through the whole ordeal. All I can do is watch and wait for them to finish. Every few bites, one of them locks eyes with me, and I can see the Wolf staring back. Those pale glowing eyes are laughing at me.

By the time the sky starts to lighten, Gail leads the pack back inside the hotel. By this point, I’m just a head, a neck, and a few chunks of spine. I’m stuck in the gutter, and all I can do is moan.

I wait for the tingle that tells me I’m healing, but it doesn’t come. Maybe I’ve sustained too much damage. Maybe only my head is protected. I don’t know, but I’ve got a long time to think about it. More than a lifetime.

Already, dull white flames of hunger flicker and spark inside my remains. The hunger threatens to consume me, but it can’t. If only it could, but it can’t. Instead, it rages in my phantom belly, torturing me.

I moan and moan some more. As if answering my call, Gail appears in the doorway of the hotel. She’s just a regular zombie now; the Wolf has retreated. She stares at me and cocks her head. She has something in her hand. What is it? A scrap of food for me, perhaps? She holds it up into the morning light, and I can see that the little girl is holding my daughter’s torn sleeve.

Gail holds the sleeve to her nose and sniffs.

Her eyes are smiling.

UNLUCKY MOON

T.J. MAY

“My son recommended Craigslist to me,” said the tall, brutish man standing in front of Ray. “Darndest thing, technology. To be honest I needed him to help me list my first post. Seven years old and he’s smarter than his old man,” he chuckled.

Ray nodded. Being a literate member of the computer age, he’d known of such websites for some time. Good for getting rid of things. Good for finding what you need cheap. And good for finding what you don’t want anyone else to know you’re looking for.

The tall man pointed to the woods.

“The enclosure is just through there, back a bit in the forest.”

The tall man lead and Ray followed. It was seven o’clock and sunny despite being a cool September evening. Once they moved under the canopy of oak and maple, Ray felt like someone had dimmed the lights, if not shut them of completely. He felt out of place. The tall man sensed it, and pointed to the flashlight in his hand to ease Ray’s mind.

“City fella, eh?”

Ray nodded.

“Got any kids?”

Ray shook his head, no.

“Well, that might be good enough. See he’s a big fella, so he’s not likely to prefer a city apartment. But I gotta tell ya; he sure hates kids. Gets mighty possessive, a one-person kind of animal,” the tall man saw Ray tense, “Oh, he’s great for me though. I’ll just turn over the reins to you if it’s a match,” he grinned, but it was a sad grin.

This man does not really want to give him up, thought Ray.

“You know––

“You go out and get one cause your son wants it. You end up feeding it, cleaning up after it, giving it attention, and YOU become the most attached to the damn thing,” he wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

“But, safety first, and this ‘ole fella is a mano-y-mano situation, you know?”

Ray nodded and the tall man grinned.

“I gotta feeling he’s gonna like you. Still, breaks my heart to see

him go though.”

They walked on a narrow and winding path, through thickets and uprooted trees. Trees that looked so old, they may have dropped some 20 years ago when Gloria whipped up the New England coast. The trunks were rotting into the ground, but the mud caked roots stood like ruins sprinkled among the seasoned foliage.

The tall man broke the silence.

“You know you aren’t the first to come by and check him out,” he said. The tall man crunched through the forest wiping spider webs from his face as he flicked on the flashlight.

Ray was relieved. Though they’d only been walking for 10 minutes, it felt like a claustrophobic midnight in the woods.

“Yep, not more than a couple months ago I posted the first ad.

It was right about the time we moved him out here—

“By-the-way, you’ll love the enclosure I built for him. Right on the edge of this beautiful clearing, and the moon just looks like a painting when it passes over.”