die.
Something fell to the floor behind Mike. Turk spotted the item. The remains of Mike’s arm, chewed down to the bone from shoulder to mid-forearm. Nothing worthwhile after that.
Two eyes, glowing faintly, appeared. Turk strained to make out the body. From the position of the eyes, it had to be hunched or squatting, but the mass he expected to see wasn’t there.
And then he realized why.
A child, maybe ten years old, stepped forward and stopped next to Mike. With its head bowed and shoulders slackened, it seemed to contemplate the dead man on the ground. The child then kneeled and proceeded to study Turk.
Then it fed on Mike’s leg.
Just a kid? Is that all? Could he really cause all this damage?
He almost laughed at the questions being thrown up in his mind. He’d seen firsthand what the afflicted could do and recalled that physical traits had very little bearing after the change.
Turk aimed down the barrel. Center mass. One shot should be enough to neutralize the afflicted child. Then another to destroy the brain.
The kid looked up, his stare directed at Turk. Blood coated his face from mid-cheek to his chin. Streams of crimson flowed down his bare chest. The eyes looked normal now. Innocent. It was not the look of a beast or a monster, but that of a hungry child. The glance lasted no more than a second, but in that brief moment, Turk nearly lost the will to do what had to be done.
He thought about the man dying outside. The man already dead on the floor. How many other survivors had the child slaughtered?
The shot roared and echoed off the metal walls of the square building. The smell of gunpowder momentarily overpowered the stench in the room. The bullet hit dead center in the afflicted’s chest, knocking it backward, arms flailing.
Turk approached from the side, keeping to the shadows and affording him a view outside. The afflicted child looked up at him. It blinked several times. The eyes went from dull to glowing. Despite the wound that had damaged the being’s heart, it reached out for Turk. Through ragged breaths, its lips curled back into a snarl, exposing blood- and dirt-covered teeth.
Turk aimed the rifle at the child’s head. Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger, blowing out the back of his skull.
Tension left the muscles. The small body went limp against the concrete. Looked like a kid sleeping. Could have been Turk’s child. Or any of the children he’d known that were family or friends. And he’d killed him. What dreams had been extinguished? Hell, did they even exist anymore?
Unlike Turk, the virus didn’t care. It killed indiscriminately. And it gave life to few.
Life? Eternal damnation, more like it.
He did that kid a favor. No longer would it have to hunt a dwindling supply of human flesh, feeding on rats and squirrels to stay alive.
Outside, the humidity weighed as heavy on Turk as his actions did on his conscience. He approached Baldy. The heavy man’s breathing had become rapid and shallow. The end was close.
“What’s your name?”
The guy’s distant stare refocused on Turk. Through labored breaths he said, “Jessie.”
“I can end this for you now, Jessie. Just say the word and close your eyes.”
Jessie clenched his eyelids hard. Tears streamed from the corners. He wasn’t supposed to die. Not like this.
None of them were.
Turk stepped forward. He held the rifle inches from the man’s head.
“You won’t feel a thing, Jessie.”
But he didn’t pull the trigger. A scream cut through the air, causing Turk to retreat back inside the building.
Jessie reached out with this bloodied hand. “K-k-k-kill me.”
Turk ignored the guy. What made the sound? Had it been Skinny? Or something else?
“The-the-the gunshots,” Jessie said, gulping for air between words. “Attracts them.”
“Don’t shoot,” Skinny had said as Turk left the other building. Now he knew why. Skinny wasn’t afraid of Turk killing him. The man knew it would attract the
Something fell to the floor behind Mike. Turk spotted the item. The remains of Mike’s arm, chewed down to the bone from shoulder to mid-forearm. Nothing worthwhile after that.
Two eyes, glowing faintly, appeared. Turk strained to make out the body. From the position of the eyes, it had to be hunched or squatting, but the mass he expected to see wasn’t there.
And then he realized why.
A child, maybe ten years old, stepped forward and stopped next to Mike. With its head bowed and shoulders slackened, it seemed to contemplate the dead man on the ground. The child then kneeled and proceeded to study Turk.
Then it fed on Mike’s leg.
Just a kid? Is that all? Could he really cause all this damage?
He almost laughed at the questions being thrown up in his mind. He’d seen firsthand what the afflicted could do and recalled that physical traits had very little bearing after the change.
Turk aimed down the barrel. Center mass. One shot should be enough to neutralize the afflicted child. Then another to destroy the brain.
The kid looked up, his stare directed at Turk. Blood coated his face from mid-cheek to his chin. Streams of crimson flowed down his bare chest. The eyes looked normal now. Innocent. It was not the look of a beast or a monster, but that of a hungry child. The glance lasted no more than a second, but in that brief moment, Turk nearly lost the will to do what had to be done.
He thought about the man dying outside. The man already dead on the floor. How many other survivors had the child slaughtered?
The shot roared and echoed off the metal walls of the square building. The smell of gunpowder momentarily overpowered the stench in the room. The bullet hit dead center in the afflicted’s chest, knocking it backward, arms flailing.
Turk approached from the side, keeping to the shadows and affording him a view outside. The afflicted child looked up at him. It blinked several times. The eyes went from dull to glowing. Despite the wound that had damaged the being’s heart, it reached out for Turk. Through ragged breaths, its lips curled back into a snarl, exposing blood- and dirt-covered teeth.
Turk aimed the rifle at the child’s head. Without a second thought, he pulled the trigger, blowing out the back of his skull.
Tension left the muscles. The small body went limp against the concrete. Looked like a kid sleeping. Could have been Turk’s child. Or any of the children he’d known that were family or friends. And he’d killed him. What dreams had been extinguished? Hell, did they even exist anymore?
Unlike Turk, the virus didn’t care. It killed indiscriminately. And it gave life to few.
Life? Eternal damnation, more like it.
He did that kid a favor. No longer would it have to hunt a dwindling supply of human flesh, feeding on rats and squirrels to stay alive.
Outside, the humidity weighed as heavy on Turk as his actions did on his conscience. He approached Baldy. The heavy man’s breathing had become rapid and shallow. The end was close.
“What’s your name?”
The guy’s distant stare refocused on Turk. Through labored breaths he said, “Jessie.”
“I can end this for you now, Jessie. Just say the word and close your eyes.”
Jessie clenched his eyelids hard. Tears streamed from the corners. He wasn’t supposed to die. Not like this.
None of them were.
Turk stepped forward. He held the rifle inches from the man’s head.
“You won’t feel a thing, Jessie.”
But he didn’t pull the trigger. A scream cut through the air, causing Turk to retreat back inside the building.
Jessie reached out with this bloodied hand. “K-k-k-kill me.”
Turk ignored the guy. What made the sound? Had it been Skinny? Or something else?
“The-the-the gunshots,” Jessie said, gulping for air between words. “Attracts them.”
“Don’t shoot,” Skinny had said as Turk left the other building. Now he knew why. Skinny wasn’t afraid of Turk killing him. The man knew it would attract the
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