The gore wasn’t there. The body was gone.
Kevin stepped inside and slowly pushed the door shut. “What the hell is going on here?” He looked around the room and noted that his pissed pants were still lying on his bunk where he’d tossed them. A quick glance in the bathroom; yes, the trash bag was missing from the waste can. He stepped back into the tiny stateroom and took a mental inventory.
The stainless steel mirror in his room was still dented from his outburst. The one in the bathroom had water marks on it where he’d wiped it off after his shower.
Kevin sat on the edge of his bed and stared at where the body had been. He slowly bent to the floor and pressed his cheek to the cold linoleum. He stared across the floor and noted the dust bunnies near his narrow bed and more than a few bits of dirt and detritus scattered about.
He sat upright and scratched at his head. “Fuck me…I’m losing my marbles.”
His head whipped around the room looking for any telltale sign that he hadn’t imagined the whole thing. He ran his finger along the floor where the bloodiest mess was then licked it. Was he simply not seeing it? Was his mind in denial? Was there blood on his finger? He tried to rely on his other senses since obviously his eyes weren’t making the proper connections with his brain.
He spat the dirt from his mouth that his finger had swept from the floor and stood again. “This isn’t right.”
He spun quickly, reaching for the door again when it hit him. He had fallen asleep in the lab. He must have dreamt the attack.
He turned back to his room slowly and sat on the mattress again. “That must be it.” He breathed a long sigh of relief and fell back on the mattress. “It was so real…oh my god, I can’t believe I’d dream something that fucked up.”
He ran his hand over his face then kicked his shoes to the floor. “Maybe I dreamt the whole mess where Broussard and Chaplain went AWOL, too.”
He reached to pull his shirt off and his hand brushed the still damp pants. He lifted them and looked at the stain. “Apparently not.”
He wadded the pants and tossed them into the corner where the dirty clothes basket sat and closed his eyes again. “It was all a dream.” He smiled to himself and was about to drift back to sleep when his subconscious made a connection he hadn’t considered.
Kevin sat upright and stared at the dented mirror again. He stood slowly and approached it, his brain telling him not to get close, but he saw his hand slowly extend and he brushed his fingers across the dent in the thin metal. “Aw, hell. The dent is real.” He stared at his reflection and for a moment, he saw his blood stained face again.
He jumped back and wiped at his face, relieved that his hand came back clean. He turned and threw open the bathroom door, flipping on the light as he stepped inside. He leaned close to the mirror and studied his face. “Not a hint of blood.”
He leaned back and sighed. “That’s it then. I’m losing my fucking marbles.”
Simon sat upright, his hands cupping his midsection. Oh no. His head spun around, trying to find a toilet when the cramps increased in pressure. He bent over, praying that the pain would subside.
As it spiked, he knew that he had little time. He pushed away from the female and rolled off of the dog food bags. He fought with his belt and barely got his pants tugged down before liquid fire shot from his ass, spraying the shelves across from where he’d slept.
Simon fought the urge to howl and nearly cried at the instant relief. He felt his legs try to buckle under him and he glanced to either side, hoping he could find something to wipe the mess from his thighs and ass. It was right about then that the stench hit him and he felt his guts twist, threatening to launch a frontal attack.
I guess that will teach me to eat human meat. In his mind, he knew it was Pipe Guy’s heart that was tearing his insides out.
He yanked his jacket off and pulled his shirt over his head; a quick tug at the thread bare wife beater and he had a sacrificial rag to try to clean some of the mess off of him. As he swiped at the black goo, he heard others grunting in the shadows. The sounds that echoed from the store told him that he wasn’t the only one suffering from Montezuma’s revenge.
Maybe this will teach them to stop eating people. Well, the infected ones, anyway.
The wave of stench that slowly wafted through the grocery store had Simon breathing through his mouth. At least, until he could taste it.
He quickly tugged his pants back up and snatched his over shirt and jacket from the floor. He made his way to the front of the store, hoping to open a door and breathe fresh air, but the sunlight pouring in through the front windows had him slinking back into the darkness.
He turned back and saw that most of his people were suffering the same fate that he had. Most simply squatted, splattering anything within a five foot radius, then stepped back to where they had been sleeping, ignoring the stench that hung in the air.
These fuckers are more broken than I thought. Nobody could sleep with this smell around. It was only then that Simon wondered if this was par for the course for him and his people now. Was this what they had to look forward to any time they ate? Or was it something they ate? Or…someone?
Simon staggered back to the dog food bags and found his anorexic lover still curled in the fetal position. He slid in next to her then stiffened
