Authors: S. P. Cloward
Plagued by questions, Wes thought about the hand he’d left in
the alley; he’d had no control over it once it became detached from his body.
Could he somehow detach himself from his whole body? Maybe if he threw himself
into a fire and burned himself up he would move on. The problem was that he
didn’t know where he would move on to. What if he burned himself but was still
connected to the ashes? Now that would be worse than being a zombie. He wrapped
the end of his left arm in an old shirt. The shredded flesh and exposed bone
were ghastly reminders of the incident in the alley, not to mention his current
overall condition. It was gruesome enough that even he didn’t want to look at
it.
Two days later someone knocked at Wes’s door. The noise was
more shocking than the bugs that had recently discovered him. He didn’t answer.
The knock came again and was followed by the sound of a key in the lock. Wes
looked around nervously for a place to hide, and then as the door flung open he
simply fell to the floor, closed his eyes, and played dead.
“So what’s he in trouble for?” It was the building’s super,
Mr. Howell.
“Oh, nothing really, we had some situations arise a couple
of days ago that we traced back to him,” a woman said.
Wes listened as three people walked around his apartment.
Then one of them located him on the floor between the coffee table and the
couch.
“I’ve got a body here. Is this him, Mr. Howell?”
“Yeah. Oh dear.”
“You can go now. We appreciate your help. We’ll let you know
if we need you for anything else.”
Wes heard the door open and close as someone left the room.
He barely cracked his eyes open hoping to get a glimpse of the two strangers in
his apartment. Through his blurry vision he could see that one of them, a man,
had leaned down and was looking at him. He snapped his eyes shut again.
“He’s dead alright. Look, he’s missing a hand and still
wearing the handcuffs the officers reported they put on him. This is definitely
our guy.”
“Wes,” the woman said as she knelt down next to him, “we’re
here to take you out of this place.”
Wes didn’t move. Who were these people? Why were they
talking to him when they knew he was dead? Take him where?
“It’s no use pretending you’re not here,” the woman
continued. “If we didn’t think you were, we wouldn’t have come.”
Wes opened his eyes and looked at the strangers.
“There we go,” the man said. “Looks like we’re making
progress.”
“Yes, it seems we are. Can you sit up? Good. Now, Wes, how
did you die?”
Wes tried to talk but only grunts came out. He pointed to
the bottle of pills on the coffee table.
“Overdose? Right. I thought it might be something like that.
Tried to save yourself too, I’m sure. Well, we’re here to help you. You’re one
of us now.”.
T
he scuba diver
finished up the dive show in the Caribbean Reef exhibit and the crowds began moving
off to experience other attractions. Seth found himself a place on one of the
benches that surrounded the large circular tank and sat down. It was a busy day
at the aquarium, but not so busy that tourists had to wait for hours out front,
as was often the case.
Seth enjoyed the aquarium. The ocean was an amazing place
and housed some of the earth’s most awe-inspiring predators. It was also an
easy place for him to target prey. For the moment, however, his next victim
would have to wait until he was finished with his meeting. He looked down at
his watch, taking note of both the time and the tardiness of the person he was
waiting for. He didn’t like people who made him wait. It didn’t matter though;
the one who was wasting his time would be severed soon enough.
The fish continued to swim in their artificial environment,
oblivious to the thinning crowds. Seth scanned his surroundings to see if the
person he was waiting for was there but hadn’t noticed him. There was no sign
of Rahul. The exhibit was located in the center of a large
neoclassically-designed building. The Doric-styled columns gave the building a
sense of antiquity that, in actuality, it didn’t have. The building was less
than a hundred years old – younger than he was. Still, he appreciated the
effort made by the architects.
Seth was a good-looking man. He was tall with broad
shoulders. His strong chin and chiseled features were complimented by his dark
eyes, tanned skin, and thick black hair. Despite being older than the building
he was sitting in, he appeared to be in his mid-twenties. From where he sat,
Seth could also keep tabs on the second reason for his visit: his prey. A young
art student from a nearby college sat on the floor near one of the exhibits in
the Island and Lakes section of the aquarium and worked in a sketchpad.
Periodically she lifted her hand to tuck her long blond hair behind her ears to
keep it out of her way. After his meeting with Rahul, Seth was going to use his
good looks to trap her. Hunting in broad daylight was much more fun that
hunting at night.
A man sat down on the bench next to him, breaking his focus.
It was Rahul. “You’re late,” Seth said without looking at him. “Lucky for you
I’m in a good mood today.” He was only in a good mood because he was hunting,
but Rahul didn’t know that.
“I beg your forgiveness, sir, it was not my fault.”
Rahul was a mix of Indian and European descent, and although
his family had been living in the United States for a number of generations,
his features were strongly Indian. A family walked by the two men sitting on
the bench and the youngest of the three children made a comment about them to
his older sister. Seth knew that being with Rahul would hinder his chances of
catching his game and decided to keep the meeting short. He craved the art
student.
“Never mind, Rahul, I didn’t invite you here to scold you.”
“Thank you, sir. You are too generous.”
Seth didn’t care for Rahul’s fawning. The man was a
liability to the entire Atumra organization and would soon be eliminated. It
was just a matter of time before they had ironed out the problems with antemort
possession and then Rahul would no longer be needed.
“You have been a valuable asset to the Atumra,” Seth lied,
“and the Body has decided to reward you. You have been chosen to be the first
to be transferred into an antemort’s body. Does this please you?”
“It does, sir, very much,” Rahul nodded rapidly.
“That’s all I needed to tell you.” Seth noticed that his
prey had started packing up her things. He needed to get rid of Rahul quickly and
he would soon be feeding on this young girl’s life. “I wanted to tell you
myself, but not around the others.”
“Thank you again, sir, I knew my hard work would be
recognized. My only desire is to please you and the Body.”
Seth forced a smile to hide his contempt, knowing that hard
work didn’t have anything to do with it. He couldn’t wait until he could
eliminate Rahul. Wanting to be an antemort was a most unwise thing to wish for.
Rahul would soon find that out – just before he died. “You should enjoy the
aquarium,” Seth said as he stood, leaving Rahul on the bench. “Go see the
jellyfish. I have some other business to attend to.”
It pleased Seth that Rahul didn’t attempt to follow him. The
young art student had already made her way through the exit at the front of the
building, but Seth didn’t rush to catch up with her. He knew she was headed to
the Red Line station a few blocks away where she would board a train going
north. She would be his soon enough.
Seth caught up with the girl as she waited for a crossing
signal at one of the few streets that separated them from the CTA station.
Walking up beside her, he pulled out his phone and pretended to send a text
message. She glanced at him, and he looked over at her and smiled and winked
just as the signal turned green. Stepping into the street first, he walked
ahead of the girl at a pace that was fast enough to stay in front of her but
slow enough to keep her close.
After a few more blocks, he entered the station and
proceeded down the stairs and corridors to the platform. A few people were
already waiting on the platform and Seth walked past them to a place that would
allow him to be in the last car of the train when it arrived. His prey had
taken the bait and followed him, stopping a few feet away. Seth looked at the
girl as she claimed her spot near him and he smiled again. This time she smiled
back. It was a few minutes before the train arrived in the station, but Seth
didn’t attempt to talk to her, and she didn’t say anything to him.
The train arrived and the doors opened in front of them.
Seth motioned for the girl to board ahead of him; she did so and claimed a seat
in the middle of the car facing the direction the train would be moving. Seth
took a seat that faced the opposite direction on the other side of the aisle so
he could look at her. The doors closed and the train picked up speed.
There were a few other passengers on the train, but Seth
knew none of them would hinder his plans. Toward the back of the train, a
couple of older women were speaking loudly to each other in Spanish. There was
a man in a business suit reading a magazine and sitting in one of the seats a
few rows in front of Seth. Standing near one of the doors was a young black man
with headphones, his head bouncing to the rhythm of the music that was barely
perceptible over the noise the train made as it moved along the tracks.
Seth knew he had a few stops to go before he would have to
begin if he were to completely drain her. He planned to do it between the
Chicago and Clark/Division stops. The train took on only a handful of
passengers in the next few stations, and with all the empty seats in the car,
Seth was able to maintain a clear view of the girl. Periodically, he would look
at her and smile and she would reciprocate.
As the train left the Chicago station, Seth made eye contact
with the blond antemort. Her life force was easy to find, and once he had
synced with her he began feeding. The process did not take long even though she
was full of the energy he craved, and the exhilarating thrill he felt as her
energy poured into him was a physical high he could never seem to get enough
of. When he had taken all she had and there was nothing left but an empty
shell, he broke the connection and she went limp against the window.
Seth remained in his seat, pleased by his successful hunt
and reveling in the physical sensations he always felt when he was finished.
His victim sat lifeless on the other side of the train and Seth knew it could
be hours before anyone realized she was dead. He had looked into her soul and
seen her hopes for a rich and full life, yet he had squashed her pathetic
dreams and life without a second thought. The image of her body riding the
train for hours made him smile. He had fed on her in public and not a single
person in that car knew he had done it. He truly was the superior species – a
Mortui, and thus, a god.
The train slowed as it made its approach into the next
station. Seth stood up and moved toward the doors, arriving just as they
opened. He exited the train, then ascended the escalator and steps that brought
him back up to street level. Although he didn’t really need it, he wanted to
feed again. Boystown was near, he thought as he put on his sunglasses and
walked down the street, and there was always good game there.
W
es’s body
moved stiffly as the woman helped him off the floor and onto the couch. “I’m
Meri and this is Jordan,” she said, pointing to the man who was now standing
across the room looking out the window and down at the street. Meri was a short
woman, probably in her early to mid-30s, with shoulder-length black hair. Her
pale complexion contrasted with her hair color. Jordan appeared to be about the
same age; he was tall with lanky limbs and his blond hair was combed to the
side in a professional manner. Wes couldn’t help but notice the extreme
difference in the appearances of the two strangers.
“You can look at us as your welcoming committee,” Jordan
said, shifting his gaze from the window to Wes. He smiled at Wes, who didn’t
try to smile back.
“Wes,” Meri said as she typed and sent a text message on her
mobile, “you’re not alone.” As he watched her movements, Wes noticed a silver
ring on her thumb. It was embossed with an emblem that looked like a
combination of an “A” and “L” in an old English script. He briefly wondered
what the letters stood for when she continued, “We represent an organization of
people just like you. We’re here to improve your physical body, show you how to
take care of yourself, and hopefully give you purpose.”
Wes stared at her. The woman was crazy. He’d never heard of
people actually becoming zombies, let alone talking about it like it was no big
deal.
“I’m sure you’re confused,” she said, “but you’re going to
have to believe us. Here, look at Jordan. He looks like he’s what, in his
thirties? Well, he’s been dead for 12 years. I’ve been dead for 23 years.”
Wes tried without success to absorb what they were telling
him. Meri and Jordan didn’t appear to be dead at all. Meri’s fair complexion may
have raised questions, but if he were to pass them on the street he would never
guess either of them was a walking corpse. Apparently, everyone in the room was
dead, yet he was the only one who seemed to be attracting flies.
“We’re going to wait here for a bit. We’ve got some backup
coming that will take care of your apartment for you. Then you’re going to have
to come with us. Is that okay?”
Wes slowly scanned the living room of his small one-bedroom
home, his refuge after his escape from the clinic and the incident with the
police in the alley. He wondered what was going to happen to his things. He
couldn’t ask because they wouldn’t understand him. It didn’t matter; none of it
meant anything anymore. What good would the new Swedish mattress be for his back
problems now? How often would he need to make healthy smoothies in his
Vita-Mix?