Ivan continued deeper into the forest, refusing to go back to the bunker empty-handed. He’d never hear the end of it from the others. They already mocked him for working with the women in the kitchen.
Ivan spat on the ground and rolled his eyes as he heard the voices of his tormentors running through his head.
“Perhaps you’d like a pretty dress, Fat Ivan.”
“You have tits like a woman, is that why you do women’s work, Fat Ivan?”
“How closely related were your parents, Fat Ivan?”
They are the stupid ones, not me, Ivan thought. I get all the food I want and hang out with all the women. How is that a bad thing? Those ass clowns can go fuck themselves.
Salty sweat dripped onto Ivan’s dry lips and made them sting. When he touched the area, he felt something crusty come loose. He picked at it, and a bloody scab about the size of a thumbnail fell into his hand. He trailed his finger across his lips and found more scabs.
I knew I shouldn’t have gone with Lisa. The guys in the bunker had told Ivan that Lisa was dirty, but he had taken that as a good thing. Clearly, by the state of his lips today, it hadn’t been. Obviously, they hadn’t just meant she was into some kinky shit.
If I’d known I was going to get the clap I’d have spent that food on someone else instead. Now I’ve got the gift that keeps on giving. Stupid, filthy bitch. Wait until I get back, I’ll make her regret it.
He took a swig of water and plowed ahead, grunting as he went. Ivan had spent most of his life inside the bunker, and he wasn’t one of the healthiest inhabitants. His weight was making the walk difficult, and his legs trembled beneath him as he crashed through the undergrowth.
The morning sun was gradually filtered out by the forest canopy as he went deeper. The brightness of the day was soon replaced by puddles of golden-green light on the forest floor interspaced by the shadows of the trees.
Out of breath and worn out from the unaccustomed exercise, Ivan slumped down with his back against a tree. With any luck, his next target would come to him. It was a long shot, but if he stayed still then maybe he wouldn’t scare the animals away.
Ivan didn’t remember dozing off, but a subtle rustle in the undergrowth nearby teased him from his dream. His plan had worked. A deer nibbled on green stalks sprouting from between the dead leaves. The animal had its back to him, unaware of the predator awakening behind it.
He nocked an arrow and moved as slowly as he could, drawing the bowstring back as he stood. But before he could release the arrow, the bowstring snapped under the tension, narrowly missing his eye with the snap-back.
What the hell?
He rubbed his cheek gingerly, feeling a welt forming where the bowstring had connected. His movements alerted the deer to his presence. Ivan cursed his failure as it bounded off into the trees.
Ivan exhaled heavily and leaned against the tree. He looked down, berating himself for screwing things up. That was when he noticed the angry red sores covering the backs of his hands.
They looked like insect bites, he poked at one to see if it was painful but he felt nothing. Then he scratched it but he had no sensation at all, even though the sore had opened and had begun to weep. What the fuck was this? He turned his hand over, and there were more bumps on his palms.
Ivan thrust away from the tree and stumbled over to a patch of sunlight to get a better look. The rich glow illuminated the blood seeping from the open sores, giving it an unearthly shine. Needles of panic stabbed at his insides.
This was much worse than a few measly insect bites.
He lifted his T-shirt to reveal the fleshy mound of his overgrown stomach. The sight of his skin caused his heart to flip as his adrenaline spiked, it was covered in the same weeping lesions as his hands. How did I not notice it? They looked painful, but he had no sensation at all. Ivan‘s confusion was absolute. He pushed at one of the sores with his finger and the skin slid off easily, revealing the inner workings of his hand.
The sight should have repulsed him, but instead, Ivan’s stomach growled. He was hungry. How long had he been out here in the forest? He thought he’d better get back to the bunker. He needed to get some food, and see one of the medics—kill or no kill.
As he walked back to the bunker his mind was filled with thoughts of food, none of it what he wanted. But the meals the women made for him seemed unappetizing in his memory – inedible, even. He couldn’t ignore the ache in his stomach, the raw emptiness he felt inside.
What will I eat?
He stopped and stared at his hands, mesmerized by the cherry-red droplets forming little mounds atop of the sloughing skin before they fell away. The answer was clear.
Ivan licked his crusty lips. He was hungry for blood.
Terrier let out a big yawn, and Ryder got a whiff of death breath.
She grimaced. “Close your fucking mouth, you animal.”
Terrier frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”
Ryder shook her head. “When was the last time you cleaned your teeth? You’re going to get an infection.”
“You’re a dentist and a hunter now?” Terrier grinned, flashing his white teeth. From the outside, they looked perfect. It was the inside of his mouth that worried Ryder.
“Whatever, Terrier. They’re your teeth. Go ahead and let them rot if you like.”
“I’ll clean them when we get back,” Terrier chuckled.
Ryder raised her eyebrow. “Like I don’t know that laugh means you’re lying. It’s okay, leave them. If you want, I can ask Vera to take a
