The woman taunted him, dangling bits of his own flesh above him before dropping them into her open mouth. A wicked grin was plastered across her face as she swallowed him piece by piece. Allison almost laughed at the terror on the man’s face. Butterflies of guilt spread in her as she realized she liked what she was seeing. She wanted it to continue. She wanted to help rip the man apart. The woman gave the man an animal-like grin and then bit down on the flesh of his entrails she had entangled in both of her hands. The man’s mouth opened wide in a silent scream and his head rose then fell back, hitting the bumper of the van with a loud thud. His body lay lifeless, his face frozen in pain, eyes stuck open, looking at nothing. Dead.
The woman took another bite, then stood up and started running toward a group of people near the edge of the roadway. Allison’s legs instinctively moved as if she was going to follow the woman. She crossed her legs and dug her nails into her hand, breaking the skin as she held the door, restraining herself from jumping from the car to follow the woman. A warmth filled her core.
Allison had not noticed the group. It was a black blur of men dressed like the dead man. She guessed between ten and fifteen. She recognized weak points in the men’s formation, areas of vulnerability, areas to attack. A few of the men had their backs to her, guns pointed toward the trees, distracted. A lone man off to the side checking the magazine of his handgun, slow to join the group, easy pickings.
Why do I know that?
The thought pierced her mind briefly before the thunder of her own pulse filled her ears. Her eyes darted between all the men. Warmth spread, further filling her core, reaching for her limbs. Allison’s mouth watered, dripping drool down her chin. The men seemed to realize the weak spot in their ranks a few seconds after Allison and started forming a tight circle with their backs to each other; filthy, naked men and women were surrounding them, running from the trees.
The naked mob looked like drug addicts from the “don’t do meth” commercials Allison had seen as a teen. They lunged at the men, but they held their positions with firm stances, weapons raised, locked on targets, but not firing. Allison pulled herself closer to her window, pressing her face to the glass as she watched. Slobber ran from her mouth down the clear glass onto the car door. The warmth had reached her fingertips. Her body vibrated.
Sandra placed her head on the center console, tears falling from her eyes as she pressed her hands firmly to her lips, suppressing her whimpers. Dave sat back up in his seat and placed his hand on his wife’s head, stroking her hair. This gave Allison a unimpeded view of the horror scene unfolding outside the car. She pulled herself forward, using the front seats as leverage as she positioned her body in the center of the backseat. A trickle of sweat slid down the middle of her back and more gathered on her forehead. The saliva in her mouth intensified into a steady flow down her chin as her pulse quickened. The warmth in her body fed a deep rage, raw anger that needed an outlet. Sandra sniffled, causing Allison to glance at her. The tears of terror on the woman’s face damped the urge that was growing inside her. She is scared shitless. Why aren’t I? The guilt butterflies returned and danced in Allison’s belly. Her eyes flickered between Sandra and the bloodbath outside. She wanted to jump out of the car and become part of the action. She reached for the door handle, eager to rip apart the black uniforms before her to get to the tender meat underneath. Shame flooded her and she shoved her fists between her thighs to prevent herself from opening the door.
Allison saw one man in black say something and the others separated from their tight circle. As the naked group of crazies lunged toward them this time, the men fired. Precise shots filled the air with tiny ticks of gunfire, no bullet sprays like in movies. One by one each bare-bodied attacker staggered to the ground. Some cried out as they fell, grasping at darts lodged in their skin. Allison’s heart jumped in her chest as each dart made impact. The attackers reached for each other, seeking comfort from their companions. Then their bodies stilled. Tears lined her eyes. They are hurting. The warmth flared within her, and with it her anger.
The group of naked people that remained standing all rushed the men, bringing a few of them to the ground, ripping at their clothes and biting at their exposed bodies. The men on the ground let out howls of pain and fear as they fought off their attackers. Joy surged through Allison, and a smile spread across her face. She shook her head as she beat her temples with her fists to subdue the delight of watching the carnage. Why do I like this? What’s wrong with me? Dave glanced at her with his finger to his lips as he shook his head.
“Shh,” Dave said as he reached out, his hand touching her cheek as he made eye contact with her. “Shh. It will be okay. Keep it together.”
Allison nodded and slipped her hands back in-between her legs squeezing them with her thighs. She pushed back at the rage coursing out from her. One, two, three—stay calm—four, five, six—stay focused—eight, nine, ten—don’t forget to breathe. The warmth
