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Authors: Matt Shaw

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BOOK: Sick Bastards
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PART EIGHT

Before

 

Siblings

 

As I lay on the floor, I couldn’t help but think about the dream that I had. My first thought, when I woke up and despite the erection, was that it had been bad. Not just bad but sick. But as I lay there, watching my sister sleep in the warm glow of the fragmented moonlight, I couldn’t help but wish it weren’t just a dream. I couldn’t help but wish it were real.

 

I
wanted
to feel her touch.

 

I
wanted
to know what it felt like to kiss her.

 

I
wanted
to be inside of her.

 

Without giving it much thought, I crawled from underneath my bed sheet and made my way to the mattress where she lay. She was lying on her side, one hand under her face and the other at her side. She looked so peaceful. Carefully I crawled onto the mattress, and under the sheet, behind her. When I knew she hadn’t stirred, I moved closer until we were touching skin to skin. She still didn’t stir so I carefully put my arm over her as though cuddling in.

 

She stirred.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked, still half-asleep.

 

“I’m sorry. I was freezing down there. Don’t mind, do you?” I asked.

 

“You don’t feel cold.”

 

“You’re nice and warm. Is it okay?”

 

“Don’t snore!” she ordered me.

 

“I won’t.”

 

We both fell silent for a moment. By her breathing I guessed that she had fallen asleep again. I arched my back as thoughts of touching her snuck back into the forefront of my mind once more and my erection slowly started to pulse into life. An arching of the back to stop from poking her with it.

 

I held my breath, occasionally sipping the air like a fine wine, scared that she’d hear my heavy breathing. A quick sniff of her hair. She smells so good. A natural odour that hasn’t been disguised with various products due to not having them to hand.

 

You can fuck me if you want!
I was dying to hear the words come from her mouth but they didn’t.

 

My heart skipped a beat when a thought popped into my mind. A single crystal clear thought to touch her. I hadn’t even moved yet but I was shaking.

 

“You’re shivering!” Sister suddenly said.

 

I thought she was asleep.

 

She backed into me. Was that a come-on? Or was she offering more of her own body warmth to try and warm me up? She must be able to feel my erection. It’s pressing right against her buttock. She can’t not feel it. Definitely a come-on.

 

I nervously reached my hand down to her knicker line. She made a sound of satisfaction like an
mmmm
type noise. I slid my hand underneath her knickers and she suddenly pulled away and jumped up from the mattress.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” she shouted.

 

I jumped up too, “I’m sorry - I thought that’s what you wanted...”

 

“What I wanted? You’re my brother!”

 

I tried to gesture for her to keep her voice down so Mother and Father didn’t hear and come barging in to see what was happening.

 

“Jesus Christ...” she continued.

 

“I’m sorry. Okay? I misread the signs...”

 

“You’re my brother!” she repeated.

 

“I just got confused.”

 

“Confused?”

 

“I don’t feel like your brother sometimes. I’m sorry!”

 

She didn’t say anything. I wanted to hug her and reassure her that everything was okay but I didn’t dare raise a finger on the off-chance she kicked off again. There was a brief moment of silence between the two of us as neither one knew what to say.

 

“I feel the same,” she said, “sometimes.”

 

She seemed calmer now.

 

I had a feeling she was referring to the fact that sometimes I don’t feel like I’m her brother.  Going from her reaction it’s fair to say she didn’t feel the same as me when it came to my stupid sexual advances. Stupid.

 

With regards to feeling like family, I guess everyone is in the same boat since the memory loss, and from time to time we all feel as though we’re with strangers in this house. A weird feeling considering these people are actually your family.

 

“Can we pretend this didn’t happen?” I asked her. “I just got confused. It won’t happen again...”

 

She didn’t say anything. She looked just as confused as me to be fair. I couldn’t help but think she was stunned by the whole episode. With everything happening at the moment - was this the final straw?

 

I stepped forward to offer some comfort - even though I couldn’t help but think a hug probably wasn’t the best way to go, given the circumstances. Before I had taken two steps, she suddenly stepped forward and pulled me in close to her. Within seconds we were kissing.

 

I pulled away, “What are you doing?”

 

“Shut up and kiss me.”

 

She pulled me back in for another kiss. I didn’t understand but I didn’t care. Moments later we were still kissing having fallen back on the mattress, she on top of me.

 

It should feel wrong but it doesn’t.

 

It feels right.

 

Natural.

 

She pulled at my boxers, tearing them down to my ankles where I kicked them off. She unhooked her bra allowing her small but pert breasts to be free. I pulled her knickers off just as she had done with my boxers. It seemed only fair. I rolled her onto her back with ease and found myself between her legs. Both of us were flustered. Both were breathing heavy. Both didn’t seem to care we were siblings. Neither of us felt as though we were.

 

“Are you sure?” I asked her.

 

She responded by pulling me into her. I slipped in with ease.

 

* * * * *

 

Now

 

Remembering how Sister and I had first ‘got together’; I’d fallen asleep after we had finished. I hadn’t meant to. I’d meant to stay awake and talk to her about what had happened but my eyelids were so heavy. We were supposed to talk about what happened next and that it was supposed to be our secret...We were supposed to anyway. I’m not sure how long I had slept for but I awoke to the sound of her quietly sobbing by my side.

 

When I looked into those perfect eyes - the windows to her tainted soul - I didn’t look at her as though she were a sister. I couldn’t. Not after what we had done. Looking back at it now, I realised that I looked at her as though she were a girlfriend; a lover even. It was only now that I was realising this.

 

I slumped back against one of the many trees close to me, and slid down the trunk until I was on my arse in the dirt. I felt sick again. Not because of the feelings I was having about my sister but rather the worry that I had left her in that situation.

 

I want to go back for her but know I can’t. There’s no point. She won’t leave without Mother and Father and I don’t want them coming with me. The whole point of leaving was to get away from them. I should distance myself from Sister too. The feelings I am having for her aren’t natural. They aren’t right. They’re a product of a forced situation. It’s just harder to distance myself from her mentally. I don’t want to. I want to keep her with me.

 

I couldn’t help it when I started to cry. The tears spilt from my eyes in a never-ending cascade. Months of build-up finally released. Not because of the loss of my sister but because of my confused state. The lack of memory, what’s happened to the world and what has been happening to me (and us) over the weeks. It’s too much for me. I can’t take it...

 

A scream from somewhere behind me snapped me from my thoughts of despair. A woman in trouble. I carefully peered around the side of the tree that I was leaning on. In the distance I saw a woman. She was on the floor. Crowding in around her were those
people
...not people...
things
...

 

I went to make a move. To do what, exactly, I’m not sure. It didn’t matter. Before I even realised it, I had stopped in my tracks and stayed against the tree. If anything I seemed to push myself harder against it.

 

The woman screamed again. She was calling out for someone to help her. Her next scream was cut short as one of those things tore into her neck with its teeth. I turned away from the carnage as the others started to bite into the woman too. The scream was now nothing but gargled noises. And then, moments later, the sound stopped, from the woman at least. Despite being a little way away from her - I could still hear a sound...A crunching. Teeth ripping through flesh and hitting bone. Gnawing, mashing, chomping and chewing. Lips smacking together in a feeding frenzy. A roar. Of satisfaction from eating the woman?

 

I carefully leaned round the corner. The things feasting upon the woman seem to have finished. They’re lurching off. Thankfully not towards me. They’re headed in the opposite direction groaning as they walked. Watching them now, they look slow but I know (from our first encounter) that’s not the case. When they need to move, they can with frightening (almost inhuman) speed. I certainly don’t think I’d have been able to outrun them if they’d seen me. I cast my eyes back to the body of the woman. I can’t see for sure but it looks as though she’s nothing more than a pile of bones and gore. Certainly not recognisable as a person. Jesus. The speed with which those things tore through her.

 

Rooted to the spot and unable to take my eyes off the mangled remains of the poor woman, my mind couldn’t help but drift back to the second piece of
meat
I ate and another turning point for my family.

 

One step further into the darkness which consumed them (us)...

 

 

 

PART NINE

Before

 

Turning Sour

 

When Sister and I came down stairs, the following morning, Mother and Father were distracted by the arrival of a scared looking woman. We hadn’t heard the knock on the door - no doubt too absorbed in what we were doing and the awkward conversation we awoke to.

 

The woman was sitting at the dining room table. Mother and Father were with her. She had blood on her face. I’m not sure where it came from. She was crying whilst Mother and Father were trying to comfort her. The presence of the woman was probably a blessing as it took the attention away from Sister and me. I had guilt written all over my face and Sister had red-raw eyes from where she had been crying whilst I was sleeping.

 

“What’s going on?” I asked from the doorway.

 

“Came by the house,” Father told me, “petrified and cold...You didn’t hear the banging?”

 

Both Sister and I shook our heads.

 

“She was chased by those things. They’re still out there.”

 

“What were they?” she asked.

 

“We don’t know.”

 

The woman sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She turned to Mother and asked, “May I have a cup of water?”

 

Mother looked to Father as though wondering whether he’d permit this stranger to have a glass of water. Father shot me a glance. He had a look in his eye that I couldn’t understand.

 

“Take your sister upstairs,” he said, “give the woman some privacy.”

 

I stepped back from the room and led Sister back up the stairs to our bedroom. It was only as I went into the room, and closed the door behind us, that I realised what was about to happen downstairs. There was no fridge. There was no way of keeping the meat from the man fresh for long. We would starve again...

 

Whilst it was obvious the woman downstairs wasn’t a looter (she was just another survivor like us) she had already made it apparent she’d be another mouth to feed - or in this case
water
. As we didn’t even have enough food for us, we couldn’t go taking in anyone else. They’d only be a liability.

 

We hadn’t been in the room for very long, certainly not long enough to talk properly, before there was a knock at the door. The door opened and Mother walked in.

 

“You can come down again,” she said. She looked pale. I’m not sure whether she just looked ill or whether she had seen something that had haunted her. Sister and I both went to leave the room but Mother suddenly blocked us, “Just remember the world has changed now and we need to do things that we aren’t proud of in order to survive...”

 

Her words hit home instantly (with me at least). I knew what she meant and I knew why she was pale. My fears had been confirmed. We’d been sent upstairs in order to avoid having to watch father dispose of the liability.

 

I didn’t say anything. There was nothing I could say. Words wouldn’t bring the woman back and, although we all knew it was wrong, there wasn’t really an option. Not that we could see anyway. Not stuck here in this house. Even less options now the woman had confirmed those things were still outside too.

 

It really was a case of us versus the world.

 

Sister left the room. I still wasn’t sure if she knew what she was about to be faced with but I worried for her. What with what happened between us and what we ate yesterday; she was about to be confronted with yet another warm corpse. A corpse we were supposed to devour.

 

Mother blocked my path.

 

“A word?”

 

Sister turned back, “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing, dear, we’ll be right behind you.”

 

She waited until Sister took the hint and continued downstairs, urged on by a smile from Mother.

 

“What is it?” I asked her.

 

“I heard you.”

 

“You heard me?”

 

“The both of you.”

 

My heart skipped a beat.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

 

“You’re brother and sister...What you did...”

 

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about!” I lied again.

 

“What you did is dangerous. What if she became pregnant? Not only would we struggle to look after her during a pregnancy - if things don’t change - but the baby would of course be deformed...”

 

“Mother...Really....”

 

The sound of Sister screaming from downstairs silenced the pair of us for a split second.

 

A split second.

 

“I don’t know what your father would do if he found out. But it’s wrong. Sick bastard. It stops now. Whatever it was...”

 

“Mother, I honestly don’t know what you’re....” I tried to interrupt her but she spoke over me.

 

“...Whatever it was...It stops. You hear me? If it continues, if you even speak about it again, your father will be dealing with you. Understand?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...”

 

“Do you understand?”

 

I realised that she wasn’t going to let it go. I reluctantly nodded.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Now get downstairs. We’re having a family meeting.”

 

* * * * *

 

Sister was sitting at the dining room table. Her head was buried in her hands and she was weeping. A sound I had grown accustomed to hearing even though I wish I hadn’t. No matter what happened between us - she was my sister and I hated seeing her upset. Not that I could blame her. Father had killed the woman. And not only that - he’d placed her on the dining room table with her clothes stripped off right in front of where he had made Sister take a seat. Father himself was standing at the head of the table with a bloodied knife in his hand.

 

“Take a seat,” he ordered me as I walked into the room with Mother following close behind.

 

Of course I wanted to turn and run, just as I suspect Sister and Mother may have wanted to do the same too. I didn’t though. Where was I going to run anyway? There was nowhere. Those things were outside and, for all we knew, we were the last survivors; our dysfunctional little family unit.

 

“None of us may have liked what we had to do yesterday but we all knew that we didn’t really have a choice. We’ve run out of food and we don’t know when help is coming. For all we know, despite the hope we must keep hold of, there is no hope coming. For all we know, we’re alone here and will continue to be so for the rest of what remains of our lives. When opportunities come up we must, therefore, seize them - even if it means doing something that we wouldn’t usually have done before any of this happened to us.”

 

“You murdered her!” I pointed out.

 

“Just as you murdered the man yesterday,” Father was quick to tell me.

 

“He was a looter.”

 

“Did he take anything? Did he try and take anything?”

 

“I thought he might...”

 

“So he didn’t then. He was innocent. This woman...She
was
going to take something. She was going to take our food, our water and anything else she could have. I’m more justified in what I did than what you did yesterday but that’s not important. What’s done is done.” He changed the subject and I let him as I didn’t like how his picture painted me. “We can’t keep the meat fresh. It will turn before we get a chance to eat it all. With that in mind, when we’re presented with opportunities such as this one - we can’t let them go. Especially considering we don’t know where the next meal is coming from,” he said.

 

I looked around the room. Sister was still sobbing. Mother was nodding her head along to what Father was saying. Did she really believe in what he was saying or was she just going along with it for a peaceful life?

 

Father didn’t say anything else nor did he wait for us to argue with him. He simply took the knife and cut a slice of meat from the dead girl’s arm. I felt sick in my stomach but didn’t say anything for fear of getting shot down again. I simply turned away and wondered if this really was how we were supposed to live now.

 

I closed my eyes as I heard Father bite into the first piece of flesh cut from the remains.

 

* * * * *

 

Now

 

I took my eyes off the woman’s body. It wasn’t going to help me now, thinking back to what happened with the woman in the house. It served no purpose other than to distract me from the task at hand - staying safe and finding somewhere to lay low or (better yet) some survivors who’d be able to offer me shelter.

 

Need to put the dead woman (over in the distance) from my mind. Need to ignore the thoughts of what I’d done to get to this point in my life. Need to (as much as it pains me to think it) leave my sister behind.

 

I glanced back over to where those things had wandered off to. I couldn’t see them now. Better still, I couldn’t hear them either.

 

The coast was as clear as it could be.

 

Slowly I pulled myself up from where I had slumped against the trunk of the tree and continued making my own path through the woodland’s foliage, all the time trying to be as quiet as I could.

BOOK: Sick Bastards
10.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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