Hungry for Your Love: An Anthology of Zombie Romance (28 page)

“So, I’m going to cut the tip of your pinkie finger off, and I promise to put it back on, okay?”

Somewhere in the recess of what was left of Carla’s mind, she knew she should say no, but she just couldn’t seem to care. All she wanted was food.

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“Eeeeeed meee,” she demanded.

“Okay, after we try this little experiment, okay?”

Ray took a rather ominous-looking butcher knife and cut her pinkie just below the upper knuckle. It was neatly severed, if there was such a thing. There was no blood. He set it down on the glass coffee table and it wiggled on its own after being cut.

Carla felt nothing. She too was fascinated by her fingertip with a life of its own.

Ray grabbed the errant fingertip and pushed it back on her stub, but it fell right back off again and wiggled.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Antonio informed him. “You need to glue it back with fresh blood.”

Ray turned his nose up. “You do it, not me. I pass out at the sight of my own blood.”

Antonio laughed.

Ray picked up the knife and cut Antonio’s wrist. Blood pooled. He dipped the severed end in the blood, then pushed the pinkie tip to the stub, where it reattached.

* * * *

Carla has no sense of time. She is taken from her room and sawed in half and put back together six days a week ,with matinees on Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday, and a day off on Monday. Antonio feeds her steak tartar and heals her with his blood. Ray puts her in a box every night and leaves her alone. She is always hungry for raw meat and more of Ray.

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Sometimes she thinks she can hear Ray laughing in the room next door. There is always the sound of other women around him. He never kisses her anymore. Most of the time, all she can think about is how hungry she is and how much she loves him.

One day, while Antonio is washing her, Carla realizes it is Antonio that she loves.

“Luf,” she says, as he pours water over her head.

“Yes, I know,” he says, thinking she is thinking about Ray again. He can only wash her once a week now, as her skin is so dry and her scalp is almost brittle. The years have not been kind. Neither has Ray. But he is rich.

“Eww,” Carla says.

He looks into her eyes and sees it just then. He actually sees Carla’s soul return to her body through her eyes.

They both smile, and he kisses her for the first time ever. Carla kisses him back.

The spell is broken.

* * * *

They are so much older now. Years have gone. Carla’s body is actually still twenty-nine, but a dried-up twenty-nine. She looks like Antonio’s fifty. Ray, on the other hand, still looks boyishly thirty-five. His face is miraculously unlined, though a little bit pudgy.

At first, Carla is angry at the lost years and betrayal. It eats at her. But Antonio’s love is as healing as his blood once was. He always takes her hand, and kisses her constantly. He tells her he loves her in everything he does. She never sleeps alone. Carla realizes this is what love should feel like, and that she is loved for the first time.

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However, Ray is not pleased to have Carla back. He spent every dime he made and has nothing put away. He never thought he’d have to retire. And he’s pissed that both his meal tickets have found each other. This was not how it was supposed to be.

But the worst of it is that the Mirage has canceled his contract and he has just days to find a new place to live.

When Ray approaches Antonio with an offer he can’t refuse, Antonio knows what’s coming. He and Carla are ready for Ray.

Antonio sits Ray down on the couch and deftly blows a spray of ash into his lungs.

If you’re driving down the Vegas strip, I’m sure you’ve seen those billboards for The Amazing Carla and Tony, that goth husband-and-wife magic act with the boy toy magician’s apprentice they saw in half and re-attach every night.

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PAGEBRERAK

Some New Blood

by Vanessa Vaugh

“I’m dead,” Dan declared, slumping down to take off his shoes. I didn’t want to remind him it was true.

At the moment, I felt the same. My commute home had taken a full hour. Several lanes of the freeway had been closed. I still felt hypnotized from watching the taillights inch forward ahead of me.

With a sigh, I sank down onto the bed, pulling off my high heels and dropping them to the floor. Gently, I massaged my tender soles. I hated those shoes. Sometimes they made my feet feel like they might fall right off. Hell, at times my feet
did
fall right off. But in the corporate world, it wouldn’t matter if my body was coming apart in pieces.

I still had to keep going strong.

Dan’s presence in the room felt comforting as he loosened his tie and slid it slowly from around his neck. I liked the idea of having him near me. It made me feel stable. Safe. But he was as much of a zombie as I was these days.

He lifted the remote and switched on the ten o’clock news as we undressed. The flickering light of the screen penetrated the bedroom. The glow did not feel romantic, though, like the flame of a candle might. Instead, the illumination seemed harsh and artificial, like the all-too-bright lights of an operating room.

I rolled up my hose and pulled a floral nightgown over my head. Quietly, I arranged myself under the covers. I turned to Dan. “So how was your day?” I asked.

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“Oh,” he said. “Same.” He made some comments about reports that were due as he settled into bed, then he looked over at me. “You?”

I shrugged and made a noncommittal noise. I didn’t really want to talk about work. “I love you, you know,” I cooed, touching his chin with the tip of my finger. We snuggled close and wound our arms around each another. It felt good to feel his body so close to me. Of course, it felt almost as good to just lie down and relax after the day I’d had.

We were on our sides facing one another when Dan leaned in to kiss me. I felt his lips as he eased closer. I started to feel his hand inch its way up my thigh. I hadn’t really been considering sex tonight, but now it was clear that was where this was leading. I was surprised, at first. We had lost most of our uninhibited newlywed enthusiasm years ago.

After a day of work, our tired bodies often responded like death warmed over. But as I felt those fingers edging higher, I started to reconsider. Perhaps he was piquing my interest after all.

I fumbled for the controller and muted the television. The room seemed suddenly quiet with the noise of the broadcast abruptly squashed, but I knew the silence would only feel awkward for a moment. Dan pulled me closer and started to roll onto his back.

“Why don’t you be on top this time?” he said.

Before I was conscious of what I was doing, a long sigh escaped my lips. I immediately regretted it. “Well, that’s great,” he said with just a hint of a smile. “I’m glad this is so difficult.”

I knew he was half joking about my reaction, but I could tell he was also partly serious. “It’s not like you’re exactly brimming with energy tonight, either,” I offered.

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That was an understatement. Not only were the two of us not brimming with energy, our lifeless bodies seemed barely animated. “Just tonight, why don’t you be on top?” I said, trying to conjure up a flirtatious tone. “I like it when you’re on top.” I raised my hands slowly to his shoulders and tried to help maneuver myself below him. I could tell instantly I had made a mistake, though.

“Oh, Lucy, for goodness’ sakes,” he said. He wasn’t angry with me, just exhausted. He leaned in to give me a peck on the cheek. Then I watched him twist onto his other side, grabbing a book from his bedside table. “Never mind,” he mumbled. “Not tonight. Too tired.”

For a moment, I felt obligated to protest. It seemed like one of us needed to jump in and liven things up. I knew that wasn’t going to happen, though. Neither of us had any life left. The truth was that lately our lovemaking had seemed less like the explorations of frisky co-eds and more like the motions of automatons grabbing at whatever human flesh was nearest. I could hear it now—the low moans that would escape us, our stiff-armed fumbling as we reached for one another. I had pulled myself out of the grave. I could haul myself to work every morning. But I didn’t have what it took to pull our sex life out of the gutter.

Dan was settling into his book. He had turned off the TV and clicked on the little reading lamp at his side of the bed. I did the same with mine. But before I settled in, I grabbed my water glass and padded into the kitchen.

As I was walking back, I passed the large picture window in the living room.

Things looked dead out there at this hour. I turned the fragile crystal glass in my fingers 265

and sipped the contents a little. It was only a little past ten, but all the houses on the block were already dark. The only signs of life were coming from the new neighbors next door.

We had been invited there for a party tomorrow. I could see them moving inside their house now. No doubt they were arranging things for tomorrow night.

The woman had seemed vibrant when I met her—almost blindingly so. She gave off quite a sensual impression with her bright red hair and colorful form-fitting clothes. I was used to wearing the dark suits I usually sported at the office. I looked down at my nightgown now and realized that my monochromatic palette had worked its way into my non-work attire, as well. Even the floral print I had on was gray.

I caught a good look at her as she passed her window again—clad this time in short shorts and a tight red top. She was laughing, and as she walked backward past the window I finally got another look at her husband, too.

There was no doubt he had an incredible physique. When I had spotted him, shirtless and toned, moving furniture into his new house, I had stolen looks at him most of the afternoon. I looked him over now and sipped my water, feeling a pull almost like hunger. The man next door was so gorgeous, I wanted to eat him right up. I could see what a magnificent body he had. Judging from the money he had to be pulling in to afford that place, I imagined he also had a mind to match.

I licked my lips as I stood in front of that window, knowing I’d fall asleep tonight thinking about that body . . . and those brains.

* * * *

The next night, I sat studying my face. I looked like a monster. I knew it. But now I found myself wondering if anyone else would notice. I decided a little concealer would 266

do the trick. With a little luck, I might even be able to fool the partygoers next door into believing I was one of them. With a few dots of makeup, I seemed revitalized. I dug deep in my drawer and even found a little color for my cheeks. Just a small dash of blush gave the illusion of real life glowing under my deathly pale skin.

I could pretend to be stylish, but that wasn’t really who I was any more. Dan and I had led such a monotonous life for the past few months that even dressing for a party like this one was a rare event. My little black dress had been hanging behind my other clothes for so long, I literally had to shake a layer of dust off of it. Before I ran it through the wash, the thing almost looked like I had pulled it out of my crypt and not my closet. But by the time I grabbed my purse and threw on a coat, I almost felt like a real person again.

For the first time in weeks, we had somewhere to go that didn’t involve our regular haunts.

I could see Dan was pleased about our plans, too. We were also both a bit nervous. After all, we didn’t know this couple well at all, and had no idea what to expect.

We walked over to their nearby house at our usual ambling pace. The wind was cold, and we stumbled slowly, trying to steel ourselves against the chill and the light drizzle of rain.

As I raised my hand and rapped on their front door with my white knuckles, I felt a secret pull of excitement. I had imagined being close to my free-spirited next-door neighbors for quite a while, but now the possibility of actually spending time with them made me feel a little anxious. I gripped Dan’s hand and he gave me a reassuring squeeze.

The front door opened suddenly, spilling heat and light and music out into the darkness. We were engulfed by the smell of food, the sound of ice cubes as they clinked delicately against the sides of liquor-filled glasses, the illumination from warm lamps and 267

flickering candles, and the blur of dozens of guests. I was out of place, a hibernating creature that had only just clawed its way out of a hole in the earth and now stood blinking at the sun.

“Lucy, hello!” exclaimed our hostess, shaking me out of my momentary daze. She embraced each of us warmly as we shuffled our way inside. The host stood by his wife, collecting our coats as Dan and I shrugged them off in the entryway. Jessica was puffing delicately on the end of a long cigarette. “We’re so glad you could make it,” she purred.

“What can I get you?” She made a sweeping gesture toward the bar and gave Dan a wink.

Dan took a step forward, raising his arms toward our hostess. We hadn’t eaten tonight, and the man knew what he wanted. I caught his arm in time, though, and steered him back toward me. I was worried Jessica might have noticed our little exchange. I was also worried that the sight of such fresh people could make Dan start to drool.

Oh, yes, drinks
, I thought.
She asked about drinks
. I hesitated a moment. “I’m not sure,” I said politely. “What do you have?”

Her husband, Jeff, stepped in. “Come with me,” he said smoothly. “I’ll show you.” I felt relieved he had offered. I moved to his side, ready to follow him toward the bar.

Dan asked Jessica for a scotch. I looked over my shoulder at them as she led him to a nearby table covered with decanters. She lifted one and started to pour a double, but simultaneously she gestured toward a bowl filled with keys.

A sensible precaution
, I thought,
to make people give up their keys at such a
liquor-soaked party
. We had simply walked over from next door, but most people had probably taken their cars. I could see the need to curtail drunk driving.

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