My mouth's about to close in on the forearm flesh when I hear the noise. A loud thud as the back door of the bar comes open.
"All right, everyone take it easy. Pretty girl, step away from the carcass. You too, bro."
Five zombies are blocking the door in boy band position, the middle one pointing a gun.
Zombies with gun. That's my luck.
I put the forearm back on the counter and get up. The broad-shouldered zombie by my side does the same.
"Yeah, that's it. Nice and easy." The zombie with the gun reaches us in clumsy steps and pushes us out of the way. "Now get out."
His friends follow him, and they start dismembering the bartender while Broad Shoulders and I make way backwards to the door.
"Come on, now. Nothing personal. Out you go."
We turn around and cross the revolving doors to the sun outside. Broad Shoulders sighs. "Damn scavengers."
I feel my legs weak, but struggle to keep on my feet.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," I say. "Just hungry."
He nods. Looks around. "Well, I'm off to find food somewhere with less competition. Best of luck to you."
He leaves. I sit on the curb, my head between my knees, and let out a deep breath.
I can't even give up on myself successfully.
My stomach growls. I put my hand over my belly, grunting. It hurts. It physically hurts now.
It growls again. Then again. Then again.
Then I notice it's not my stomach growling. I open my eyes and look across the street. Lying under an old fur blanket just a few feet from me are the contours of a woman, nested under an archway by the side of a building. I squint for a better look, covering my eyes from the sun. Her head sprouting from the blanket rests dirty flocks of blonde hair on the floor, and her body moves up and down softly with snores – she's alive.
A survivor. Non-infected.
Jesus Christ, in the middle of Ground Zero.
And now my stomach growls. For real, this time it was my stomach.
My vision goes blurry for a second.
I could... you know. Kill her. She's probably weak. I'd be doing her a favor. She won't make it too long, anyway. I was gonna eat that forearm, wasn't I? What's the difference, when you --
"Grrrr!"
I blink away from my cannibal wanderings. Three zombies have their backs to me across the street now, their mouths buried in the woman's body. It happened so fast I don't even know where they came from.
She screams, but then she grows quiet real quick.
I struggle to get up, watching the figures feast on her body. I cross to the other side of the street, careful not to lose my balance with each step. My mind foggy all the way. I climb the curb to the other side and lean over to get a better look at --
"Damian?" I whisper, my voice drowned by the sound of ripping flesh and grunts.
YOU ARE READING
Eve
Teen Fiction-Featured Story -Wattys 2016 Winner Eve's a vegan zombie, and she really doesn't care what you think of it, so shush it. All she wants is to get by and find some pigeons or a fat rat - anything without a name she can eat before she starves to death...
