The Hunger (Book 1): Devoured (2 page)

“Drugs, probably. What else makes you incoherent and turns your skin to shit?” Don frowned at the woman as they followed her. “Why exactly are we keeping tabs on her still?”

“Because I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Oh, sure. Yeah, me too.”

“Besides, she doesn’t look like a drug addict to me.”

“Lance, your powers of deduction suck. Look at her, buddy. She’s high as a kite.”

Lance pointed at the back of her head. “Check out her hair.”

“What about it?”

“It’s nice. She takes care of herself. Her jeans are designer and that is one huge ass diamond on her finger. This isn’t some crackhead turning tricks for her next fix.”

Don inspected her. “I take it back—you might be on to something here. So what are we looking at? A woman who caught a disease or something?”

“Dunno.”

“Shouldn’t we stay away from her then? What if she has the bird flu or mad cow?”

Lance recognized his opportunity. “Good idea. Why don’t you hang back and I’ll take care of this? You can make sure the ambulance finds us. It was nice catching up.” He really hoped that Don would finally leave him in peace.

“Shit, buddy. I can’t leave you alone with her. Besides, you never told me what happened with Liz.”

Damn it.

She staggered sideways, brushing against a man eating a hotdog. The food fell from his hand, landing against his white shirt and green tie, ketchup and mustard staining everything.

“Goddamn it!” The man scowled at his shirt in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing, lady?” He turned on her, his mouth falling agape as he took in the cobweb of veins running through her face. “Jesus!”

“Just stay back!” Lance said as he walked up to the man.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“No idea, but I wouldn’t touch her if I were you.”

The man wiped at the condiments on his shirt. “Too late for that, bro.”

Lance and Don continued walking, staying five feet behind her. People gave her a wide berth now, wary of coming anywhere near the sickly woman. She seemed oblivious to everyone’s presence, careening along as if she were alone on the sidewalk.

A teenager with ear buds in, his head bobbing to music, jogged across the street, his eyes turned to look for traffic, and plowed right into her. They both fell to the ground, limbs sprawling across the concrete. An iPhone fell from the teen’s pocket, scraping along the harsh surface.

The kid’s head snapped around, lips curling in anger. “You stupid—”

He cut himself off when he saw her complexion, his rage shifting to fear. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his cell and sprinting away, throwing a concerned glance over his shoulder.

The woman, now scratched and bleeding, worked her way back to her feet, muttering to herself about her hunger.

“She’s completely out of it, buddy,” Don said.

Lance wanted grab her arm and force her to stand still until the paramedics arrived, but he was afraid of catching whatever she had. Instead, he did his best to warn people away, shouting every few seconds at someone else who wasn’t paying attention.

They crossed half of a block when Don stopped, shaking his head. “I’m done. No way am I going to risk getting sick. She’s all messed up and we’re crazy if we keep following her.”

“I’ll take it from here,” Lance said, turning back. “It’s not like I have anything else to do today.”

“I’m sorry, buddy. Diseases scare the hell out of me.” Don’s eyes cut from Lance to the woman and back again. “I feel like a real shit leaving you.”

Lance looked him over and felt that his old co-worker was being sincere. He softened a little, wondering if he might have overreacted to Don when they first bumped into each other. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

“Don’t worry about it. Good luck with your investment or whatever.”

“Sorry for prying about Liz too. That was uncalled for.”

“Again, don’t—”

“Shit!” Don pointed over Lance’s shoulder, his face reddening.

“What?” Lance spun around and saw the woman stepping off the curb, teetering into the bustling street.

Don cursed but didn’t move.

Lance jumped forward, ten feet away, unsure if he would make it to the woman before a car flattened her like a pancake.

Horns blared.

People shouted.

She kept going, wandering blindly across the painted lines.

Lance ran around the back end of a parked car, swearing under his breath as he closed the distance.

A cab swerved around a stopped water truck, the driver slapping at the horn in impatience. The man was too busy glaring at the truck to see what lay ahead.

Lance saw it coming at the last second, having little time to react.

He reached the woman and shoved her as hard as he could, lifting her feet from the ground. He felt her frailness through her shirt in the split second before her body flew away from him.

There was no time to brace himself for the inevitable.

Pain registered for a moment before everything went dark.

––––––––

R
aucous laughter pulled Lance out of the fog.

His head pounded as he struggled to open heavy eyelids.

More chuckling.

Bright overhead lights hurt his eyes as they adjusted, shapes taking form around him. White paint covered everything except the television in the corner of the room and the pants and shoes elevated on his bed.

Friends
played on the TV, the audience roaring every few seconds.

Lance followed the legs and groaned when he saw Don sitting beside him. He slouched in a seat beside the bed, his legs propped on Lance’s sheets, a small bag of Cheetos resting in his lap. He laughed almost as much as the audience did.

One at a time, Lance wriggled his fingers and toes, making sure he felt every sensation.

“Thank God,” he whispered.

“You’re awake!” Don retracted his legs so quickly that the half-empty bag of Cheetos spilled on his fancy suit. “Damn it.”

“How long have I been sleeping?”

“You’ve been in and out for a while. We spoke a couple of times too, but I’m guessing you don’t remember that,” Don said, brushing cheese powder from his chest. “Christ, what a mess.”

Lance pushed himself to a seated position with a herculean effort. “I feel like I was run over by a car.”

Don gaped at him. “You
were
run over, buddy.”

“I was being ironical.”

“Oh. Funny guy.”

“You’ve been here with me the entire time?”

“Yup. I was starting to get seriously bored too.”

Lance thought that his first impression of Don truly had been wrong. He definitely wasn’t the giant ass that he originally thought. The guy didn’t need to wait bedside for someone he hadn’t seen in over a decade.

“Thanks, Don. Really. I appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I could do. Honestly, I feel pretty guilty because I was just about to leave you there to deal with that woman alone.” The tie around Don’s neck was loosened, hanging a few inches below his collar, the top button of his shirt undone.

“What happened to the sick woman?”

“No idea.”

“Did she get hit by a car too?”

“Nope—you pushed her clear. Crazy ass kept on walking as if nothing happened.”

Lance moved to throw the sheet covering his torso off, but stopped when he felt the ache in his side. “Damn, my ribs are sore. Did they pick up the woman? Is she in the hospital?”

“I think so. I’ve been sitting here the whole time though, not checking on her.”

Lance wondered if he could find out what was wrong with her later. Doctors weren’t allowed to discuss patient’s information with other people, but he hoped he could do some sneaky eavesdropping. Even now, as pain reverberated up and down his body, he couldn’t help but speculate about her condition.

She looked like death walking around Pittsburgh.

Don glanced at his watch. Looked like a Rolex. “Well, buddy, I better be going.”

Fighting through the stiffness in his side, Lance swung his legs over the side of the bed so he could face Don. He stuck out his hand. “Thanks, Don. Keep in touch, will ya?”

Don hesitated a moment before finishing the handshake. “You’re welcome. Sorry again.”

“It’s no big deal. Stop apologizing for something that didn’t even happen.” Lance didn’t understand why he felt so sorry over something of such low consequence.

“Well, I—”

“Hi, Lance.”

Liz stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the bright lights of the hall. She stepped inside, her gait tense and stilted.

“What are you doing here?” Lance asked. “That came out harsh. I’m just surprised to see you.”

“I’m still listed as your emergency contact.”

“Oh.” It had never occurred to Lance to change that. Going through a divorce was hard enough without dealing with little details like that. He raged at himself for not making the adjustment. Now he’d have to argue with her while saddled in bed with an achy body.

Don’s head swiveled back and forth between the splitting couple. “Guess I should skedaddle. See ya, buddy.” He walked past Liz and they shared a glance. “Nice seeing you, Liz.”

“You too, Don.” She stepped further into the room after Don cleared the doorway, dropping her purse into the chair. She wore jeans and a tank top that showed off her well-maintained body. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, rather than laying against her shoulders as usual. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a car.”

Liz stared at him. “That’s not funny.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to cut through the tension with a little joke.”

“There’s nothing to joke about.”

Lance sighed. He could vaguely remember a time when she found him funny. It was one of the few personality traits he had that people found endearing. He’d given up on humor somewhere between being lonely and depressed. Why it decided to make a comeback lately, he didn’t know.

Just to piss her off probably.

This conversation felt like so many others they had over the past few years. Round and round they went. After a bout of condescension, Liz would move to anger and then shaming. Lance would then crack wise and blow her off, all while feeling terrible about himself.

“OK, fine. I hurt too much to argue right now.”

“Care to tell me how you were hit by a car?” Liz crossed her arms over her chest. Lance knew right away that she’d already shut herself off to him. Crossed arms were her tell, always had been.

“Someone told me to play in traffic. People have been telling me that my whole life, so I figured why not try it just this once. Turns out it isn’t so much fun.”

“Why do you have to be such an asshole?”

“Why do you have to interrogate me after I just saved a woman’s life? Or I at least saved her from the pain I’m in right now.” Lance really didn’t want to argue with her, but she had an uncanny ability to get his dander up. If she were a member of the X-Men, her power would be chapping his ass.

Liz glowered at him, not speaking for a while. A staring match commenced, like two children trying to see who would blink first. Lance always lost these and this time would be no exception.

“Are you finished?” Liz asked finally.

Lance stayed silent, his anger building. If something didn’t change in the next few seconds, an all-out screaming match would commence.

“Good,” she said. “Now, what do you mean you saved a woman’s life?”

“A sick woman almost got ran over, so I jumped into the street and pushed her out of the way.”

Her face softened as she took in what he said, frown easing, eyes rounding. “A sick woman?”

“Yeah. Delusional or drugged out—something like that. Doesn’t matter anyway.”

“If you say so.”

“Look, I can handle it from here on out. There’s no reason for you to hang around. Thanks for coming though. I really do appreciate it.”

Liz moved her purse from the chair to the floor and sat down, ignoring Lance’s invitation to leave. “How did the interview go?”

“Christ, Liz.” Lance eased back into the bed. “Why do you do this to me?”

“It went that well, huh?”

Lance’s mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to decide the best way to respond. His inability to hold a job over the past few years was a huge point of contention between them. The more he tried to find employment, the worse it seemed to go for him. And that only pissed off Liz even more.

She’d grown up much wealthier than Lance. Her father owned a construction company out of Philadelphia and her mother held a corporate job with the Eagles. Neither of her parents were enthusiastic about Lance seeing their daughter, and they almost went nuclear when he announced his intentions to propose.

They knew, even then, that Lance would never acquire the kind of lifestyle that Liz and her parents were accustomed to. The fight between the three of them the day of the wedding was brutal and the fallout remained. They saw her parents on the holidays and talked on the phone every once in a while, but an enormous emotional chasm lay between them.

When Lance lost his first job due to corporate downsizing, it planted the seeds of their marital downfall. He’d promised to take care of Liz financially and emotionally and he failed at both. Losing most of his confidence after a second layoff blunted their relationship, to say the least.

Though she’d remained patient with him through the turmoil of his career, Liz struggled with the new shape of their marriage. As much as Lance doubted himself nowadays, he knew that she had lost even more faith in him.

The shame that accompanied that feeling only worsened the downward spiral. She once saw him as an achiever and a hero for having paid his way through college, but now she looked at him like an anchor hanging around her neck. In all honesty, he couldn’t blame her for seeing things that way.

The never-ending cycle of joblessness and the accompanying emasculation put Lance in a funk that he forever struggled to climb out of.

Divorce proceedings started almost a year ago.

Lance couldn’t prove it, but he was almost convinced that she’d been seeing someone else on the side for the better part of six months. Maybe longer. He just had that feeling sometimes when the phone rang, or if she stayed out late with friends.