Flesh-Eaters Anonymous - pt 7
I actually heard the legion of flies before I saw the group of seven teenaged hoi surrounding a man and a woman, huddling together. One of them slashed the woman's cheek and she screamed, clenching to the man's side even tighter. I realized I'd been staring and looked away just as one of the hoi looked up and saw me.
"What you lookin' at, skintight?" he said. I picked up my pace. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you, 'bag." 'Bag was a slur, shortened from 'skinbag'. I walked as fast as my feet would take me, my eyes on a fixed point far in the distance, but seeing him approach out of the corner of my eye. He closed on me fast, lifting his arm in the air. I turned at the last moment to see he had a steak knife in his raised hand.
I'd forgotten about Ollins, but as if out of nowhere his fist clamped down on my would-be attacker's wrist. He was recently dead, the gash where his collarbone used to be was still red, but from his pockmarked face he could have just as easily died from acne.
Ollins put a stiff arm into his back and pulled the teen's arm back even farther until the shoulder crunched. He let it go and the dead boy whirled on him, his eyes huge with rage and jabbed the fork I hadn't seen in his other hand into Ollins's middle. The bigger hoi was a head and a half taller; but the smaller seemed unfazed at the difference in size.
Ollins latched onto the remaining arm and lifted. The boy was standing on his tippy toes when his remaining arm simply slid out of the socket with a squishing sound. Ollins threw a quick boot to one of his knees, snapping it backwards before pulling out the fork and letting it fall to the ground. He didn't bother to look at the younger bougie's buddies, but I saw them standing and watching in awe as he fell in step behind me. The two humans with him had already fled.
When we got to my house Ollins checked all the rooms for looters. Despite seeing plenty of it going on, I'd never thought about it; I didn't have anything worth stealing and where would they take it anyway? He stood in the living room with his arms folded and nodded.
I went into my bedroom to pack a bag. I still hadn't made up my mind, but this was a good way to buy time while I figured this out. But would I even need a bag?
There was a knock on the door. I opened it and there loomed Ollins. He made a gesture with his hand, like he was giving himself a shot in the arm. I guessed it was time. He pointed to himself and raised his eyebrows.
"No. I'll do it," I said. "Could you give me a minute to myself? I'm sure you remember what it was like to be alive—let me say g'bye, okay?"
He stared at me a moment, then nodded and let me shut the door. I crawled into bed and set the case out. Managing to open it, after a minute I realized there was no way I could do this. And it wasn't just my thing with needles. Being alive had a value I couldn't qualify, but was even more valuable now that the prospect of the living being wiped off the face of the Earth was a real possibility. I would have been executing myself. There's nothing like the prospect of death to show us how much we want to live.
Once I'd resolved myself to not do it I was able to pick it up. My hand was a little shaky. I removed the cap and squirted the contents onto the carpet. Whatever PF-429 was, it stunk. I hoped hoi didn't have a sense of smell.
There was a bang on the door and I thought Ollins was about to burst in. Panicked, I tossed the glass syringe, shattering it against the nightstand. When the door didn't open I kicked the broken syringe under the bed and went to the door.
