The Hollow Men (Book 1): Crave (20 page)

Maddy first went to see what Tom’s body looked like. She didn’t recognize him. Chase’s angry blows punctured and dented his skull too severely.

She peered over the fence. Her dad was nowhere in sight.

A loose knot of three zombies shambled at the end of the driveway. She felt cold fury at anything tainted with the infection that had taken over Tom’s body and made him take Chase out of her life.

She chose Margie first, a single mom of two kids—a boy and a girl, whom Maddy had babysat for the entire summer last year. Michael was an adventurous six-year-old boy. Courtney was a blond girl of nine. They were two of the happiest kids she had ever seen. She hated to think where they might be.

Holding the weapon in both of her hands, she dodged past the clumsy grasp of the thing that had been Margie. She barely sensed a crunch through the handle as the sharp blade slid easily through the cranium. The creature collapsed to the pavement immediately, so quickly that it yanked the pickaxe out of Maddy’s hands.

The mattock penetrated the bone too deeply. She struggled to pull it free. It was hard staring into the slack and blood-encrusted face of her neighbor till she wiggled the mattock free, but anger was the only emotion Maddy had at that moment.

Taking a deep breath, she readied herself to kill another one, this time a male zombie she didn’t recognize. She hit with more measured force. She was learning to maximize damage while keeping the metal from getting stuck in bone. The second zombie went down.

She’d been calculating how to be the best survivor in this post-apocalyptic world. Practice would make a big difference. She developed a rhythm. A third one went down.

From behind, a legless one dragged its way toward her. Its hands were inches away from clutching her legs.

CHAPTER 33

D
OLESOME
D
ARKSOME
H
OUR

F
ifteen minutes before, Katie had spotted her dad from the living room window. He stood at the foot of Uncle Scott’s driveway. He shivered as if he were cold.
He must have the same sickness I have.
Uncle Scott had never explained how her dad and mom had died. She thought maybe he had made a mistake, like when people get sick and are accidentally declared dead, and hours later, they regained consciousness in a morgue.

Seeing her dad seemingly alive broke through the hopelessness she’d felt ever since she’d woken up in the play fort. The bodies and the blood and the terror broke her. She had never watched a movie over a G rating.

When Emily’s dad said her parents were dead, she died inside. After crying herself empty, she’d functioned only on a basic level ever since, an automaton that did whatever the Hales asked her to do without being conscious of doing it.

Her brother saved her and paid the price for her mistake. When her dad bit Chase, her brother roared to his feet and swung the pickaxe fiercely. At a loss for what to do, she ran away. Chase yelled behind her, “Come back! Don’t leave me.”

She recognized her mom’s body in her front yard. Though little remained, Ridley’s fingers were intact. She wore a special ring on the middle finger of her right hand. It wasn’t an expensive ring, just a light pink pearl on a simple silver band.

The kids heard the story many times. Tom bought the pearl for her on their second date. They stopped at a “pearl in a bucket” place. For fifteen dollars, Ridley got to pick the oyster, the girl at the counter removed the pearl. Customers never knew what size, shape, or color they would get before the tongs emerged with the pearl from the oyster they had chosen. Ridley closed her eyes and wished for a delicate pink pearl. She got exactly that. Tom had the pearl mounted for her with
Wishes come true
inscribed inside the band.

Katie stumbled into her house, locking the door behind her out of habit. Emotionally lost, she climbed the stairs and went into her bedroom. She pulled from under her bed a shoe box of small treasures, jewelry, and pictures before going to her parents’ bedroom.

The room was both comforting and heart-breaking. Pictures of her smiling family hung on the walls. She gathered one of her dad’s shirts and a bottle of jasmine-scented lotion her mom often used. She took a pillowcase rich with her parents’ scents and put the contents of her shoebox, the lotion, and shirt into it. She despaired over the thought that she was all alone. Forever. She collapsed into her parent’s bed, crushing her face into their pillows and cried the tears she didn’t know she had left.

She never heard her Uncle Scott knocking on the front door.

CHAPTER 34

N
O
G
RACE
A
FTER
M
EAT

B
ill found the day the most liberating of his life. Society broke down. Humanity was under siege, and he would be part of the juggernaut. He could do anything with impunity. He felt no fear. After Wilma’s attack, nothing more could be done to him. His arm was usable but numb. Already he sensed the infection chomping away at him. Otherwise, he thought he might like the apocalypse.

He imagined the virus was a single living entity and tried to argue with the creature, making a case for operating symbiotically. Bill’s entreaties were met with silence and each minute that passed, another piece of his life force got swallowed into the growing void inside him.

Before he lost this life forever, Bill decided to enjoy every moment. He loped from kill to glorious kill. He looked for an opportunity to switch from observer to instigator.

He happened to be watching when Katie ran into her house. Moments later, Scott arrived at the front door, calling out for the little girl. Bill smoldered with anger when he saw Laura’s husband arrive. If not for him, last night would have been one of Bill’s most glorious.

Bill waited for the little girl to open the door. When she didn’t answer, Bill watched Scott run to a different part of the neighborhood, calling over and over “Katie! It’s Uncle Scott.” His foolish shouting attracted a growing following of zombies in his noisy wake.

Uncle Scott
? An ugly lust bloomed within him. Bill was not a pedophile. He didn’t have a sexual desire for the little girl, though performing that kind of act on her might fill a different kind of need.

He was a sadist. He craved the fear, the battering down and crushing of a human spirit. Scott had prevented him from acting out his fantasies with Laura the night before. His hunger to inflict pain became more acute. His mind churned out interesting ideas for her.

Bill waited patiently for Scott to disappear out of sight, then cautiously approached the house, disengaging the gate leading to the backyard and lureda few of the shuffling dead into the yard behind him. Before they could get to him, he slipped into the house from the back door, calling, “Little girl. Where are you? I’m here to help you.”

He ran from room to room until he found Katie on the bed in the master bedroom. Her head was still buried in her parents’ pillows. He sensed her despair, and barely stifled the triumphant cackle that rose in his throat.

She jumped when he shook her.

He shouted in a voice meant to terrify and disorient little Katie, “Those things are just outside the house. Where are your parents? We need to get out of here!”

Her blank expression and tear-stained face led him to believe her parents were no longer living.

He soothed her to win over her confidence. “Poor girl. My name is Mr. Koenig. Tell me what happened.”

Weeping the entire time, she told the story of her father and Chase and how she found her mother dead on the front lawn. Bill listened, his expression a mask of sympathy.

“It’s going to be OK, I promise,” he purred. “I knew your mom and dad. They wouldn’t want you to get hurt. Come with me and I’ll take you to a safe place. Let’s hurry.”

She looked at him dubiously, unconsciously detecting his lack of sincerity.

Bill tried another tack. He spread his arms dramatically, and announced “Look. It’s not just about keeping you safe. I just heard on the emergency station that they’re bringing a cure! It will fix everyone who was bitten. Come with me, and we’ll get the doctor to help your brother.”

The news was too good to resist. She wanted so much for it to be true. She gave Bill a hug.

He hid his wicked smile.
Gotcha!

They rushed to the back door. Making a show of it, Bill ran outside to where two inquisitive zombies had made their way into the backyard. He quickly jumped back into the house. “We can’t go that way. Front door!”

Much to his frustration, Katie said, “Wait! I need to get something.”

She bounded up the stairs. When she returned to Bill, she carried a pillowcase, hardly full enough to carry much more than a T-shirt.

He grabbed her roughly when she reached the bottom of the stairs. “This is no joke. Don’t run off again.”

The change in the man’s tone scared her. She shrank away from him. He forced his expression into a mask of apology. “I’m sorry. It’s been a very bad day. OK?” and held out his hand to her.

Hesitantly, she took it and they walked outside. She hid her eyes when they crossed the lawn by her mom’s body and started crying again.

On top of it all, she was so weakened from her illness that she lost her balance and fell heavily to the ground. Zombies were paying attention. Bill yanked her to her feet. “You need to go faster if you want my help,” then, under his breath, “little brat.”

Getting feverish, she fell once again on the way to his house. This time, he offered no help, looking down at her imperiously as she picked herself up from the ground.
Pathetic.

When they entered his house, she sensed the badness of it just as Bill picked her up and threw her hard onto the couch. He pondered ways to crush this girl’s spirit before taking her life.

His brain emptied. Blackness. When he became aware of himself again, he stood in his kitchen staring at the ceiling. He had no idea how long he had been “missing”. Alarmed, he hurried into the living room. The little girl was gone!

He rushed to the front door, hoping she hadn’t gotten far. To his great relief, Bill found her collapsed at the threshold. He dragged her limp body to his bedroom and tethered her foot to the bedpost with a nylon rope. She had no strength, but Bill wanted to make sure she couldn’t escape if he blacked out again. He could sense others coming on. They would come more frequently. He would have to accelerate his plans.

Katie woke up anchored to the bed by her foot. She whimpered, “I don’t understand. Why are you doing this? What are you going to do to me?”

Bill gave her a withering glare. “Your family is gone and you are alive. What makes you so special? Isn’t it your fault that your brother is dead, or will be soon? You might as well have killed him yourself.”

It was his gift, his ability to find the words that would hurt the most, echoing the self-condemnation she must already be feeling. He thrust each word at her as if cutting into her heart with jagged glass.

“The reason you are here is simple. It’s a mistake you are alive, and I’m going to correct the mistake. Think of it as God’s work.”

He opened the door with difficulty. His hands were shaking as much from excitement as from the infection.

He pondered the unfairness of it all. Just as he really began to feel alive, his consciousness was dying. For the thousandth time, he wished he could stay around to relish moments like this.

Bill reentered the room after fifteen minutes. He didn’t say a word to her, not wanting to interrupt the sorrow in which she had buried herself. He blocked the windows with heavy blankets.

He knew the girl’s pain was going to be delicious; he wondered if he would like the taste of her flesh, too. He decided to have the full zombie experience. When he changed, killing would only be about the food. Mindless eating. No better than a wolf gobbling up its dinner. Deplorable. Undignified.

This was a special occasion. Perhaps his last meal on earth. He would make it an event. A goodbye feast! He got out his best china, his fine silver, his sharpest blade.

He closed his eyes, imagining his knife piercing Katie’s body. The thought of hot, sticky blood sped the virus’s takeover of his mind. The images spun out of control: His hands scrabbling at her, entering her stomach and scooping underneath her ribcage. But in the present, his limbs became stiff and started to jerk. Bill fought back against the blackness in his consciousness. He pleaded again with the imagined creature invading his body. “Just give me a little more time.”

He put the folding table at Katie’s bedside and covered it in his best linen. He debated whether or not he should cook her ‘meat’. To quash his nervousness, he amused himself thinking what accompaniments and what pairing of wine would be best, if he had the time to do things properly.

Everything finally in place, a warm pleasure tickled his gut. He had the idea to say grace.

He debated where to start on her body. The infection clawing its way into his thoughts made him crave digging into her squishy inner parts. Bill resisted—he wasn’t ready for that.

He decided to go for that pretty little face. He became fascinated by her elfin ears. They were not yet pierced. Virgin skin.

The little girl had passed out again. In her unconscious state, Katie had the appearance of a sleeping angel. It infuriated him. He couldn’t have that. It would ruin his pleasure. He shook her awake again. “No falling asleep! Do you hear me?” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

He sliced diagonally with his knife, cleanly taking all of the lobe and looked for her reaction. She was deeply unconscious. He slapped her to no effect.

Her earlobe looked pathetic sitting on the empty plate. A little blood seeped from it. He bathed the ear in lemon juice and cautiously nibbled on the lower lobe. The sensation of fuzzy hair on his tongue made him gag.