The Works of Julius St. Clair (Novel Samplers)

by Julius St.Clair

  TRACK 2 – Bitey (featuring Henry)

  “Name of the party?”

  “Henry,” I said, standing before the head waiter. Even though the restaurant sported horrible wallpaper that looked like it came out of a Charlotte Bronte novel, and food that looked no different than the trash it was thrown with at the end of the night, they sure tried to act like it was a ritzy place. The waiter before me was standing behind a fake diamond podium, and he was dressed in a fancy tux with too many spaghetti stains on it.

  “Henry what?” he asked, as I realized I was staring at a stain on his shoulder for far too long.

  “I don’t know. Just Henry,” I muttered, blinking and coming to.

  “Well, surely Henry has a last name.”

  “Henry Henrison.”

  “Really?” he asked in disbelief.

  “Yep,” I said firmly, staring directly into his eyes. He looked down on the list and smirked painfully.

  “Ah, yes. There is a Henry here. Though his name is not Henrison.”

  “Yeah, I just said that so you’d actually look at the list.”

  “HEY! ALEX!” a voice called out to me. I looked across the stained, wooden barrier, separating the lobby from the dining area to see a scaly hand waving me over. I pointed to the hand so that the waiter could acknowledge that I saw Henry and I started walking toward him. I glanced at the list as I passed and noticed that Henry was the only name on it. That was okay though. I would write a nice review of Angelo’s on Yelp that night.

  “Hello, Henry,” I said cordially as I arrived at his booth. The lights were dimmed to set the mood for dinner and there was some sweet violin music playing from the speakers. But I didn’t feel an ounce of romance in the air. Especially once I saw his face.

  He was sitting with a toothy smile, his skin cracking like it was made of weak ice. His limbs were intact, and his hair was all there, but the unique odor coming from his rotting body made me gag and the smell had already attracted a number of flies.

  After he waved hi, he went back to his meal: a bowl of ravioli drenched in what I hoped was tomato sauce. Still, I felt the rumble in my stomach.

  He had ordered without me…how rude.

  “Aren’t you going to sit down?” he asked through mouthfuls. I slid into the booth quickly as a waitress ran over to us. She was probably thankful that she would actually get some tips on such a dead Tuesday night. Ha, ha…dead.

  “Excuse me,” I said with a hiccup, recovering internally from my own corny joke. “How many people are on staff tonight?”

  “Um,” she paused at my unusual question. “I believe there are twelve of us, counting the chefs.”

  “Could you confirm that number for me? And include management as well. When you get back, I’ll be ready to order.”

  “O-okay,” she said, unsure of what to think of me. She walked away slowly, tapping her pencil nervously on her notepad. I didn’t blame her. People have been mugged at Angelo’s on numerous occasions, and my questions sure didn’t sound innocent. But surely I looked more innocent than my date.

  “What are you doing, Alex?” Henry asked, wiping his red-stained lips with a napkin. “Making sure I haven’t killed anyone?”

  “I just want to make sure my order doesn’t get crossed off the menu because you murdered the executive chef.”

  “I’m not some kind of animal,” he said casually. I couldn’t help but think back to Elliot saying the same thing over the phone.

  “I’m actually surprised you’re out in public. Aren’t you afraid the police will be looking for you?”

  “I leave no evidence behind,” he said simply, glaring at me. His brown eyes were cold and listless, as if his soul was gone, and it was just a robot talking to me now. Very unlike the vibrant, energetic irises that used to greet me every morning on the bus to school.

  “Henry…why can’t you leave me alone? This is the third time you’ve tried getting a date with me.”

  “Straight to business, huh?” he said, leaning back. I could tell by the pained expression in his face that he was still angry with me over what happened. And we had been such good friends too…

  “It’s just…Elliot’s vulnerable without his legs.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he is. And maybe that’s for the best. He could use some humility.”

  “Henry, what happened to you? Why are you so cold?”

  “I’m dead, remember,” he said flatly. “Comes with the territory.”

  “I’m sorry, Henry. I really am.”

  “Yeah, I’ve heard that already. Doesn’t make me not dead. Honestly, I’m surprised that doofus still hangs out with you.”

  “He’s just as mad…I think the only reason he likes my company is because he’s lonely. It’s strange. He wouldn’t even notice me before the incident, and now he needs me by his side constantly.”

  “And yet it’s the opposite for me,” Henry said. “We used to be inseparable, Alex. You couldn’t keep us apart. And you know…then the incident happened. Yeah, I was sore, but at least I understood why you did it. That wasn’t what turned me away. It was when you ran into the arms of that idiot and showed him all the attention that I wanted from you all these years. That’s what hurt. You fell for him in seconds.”

  “I didn’t fall for him,” I said, keeping my eyes off him. “I was just so messed up over what I did to you…and Elliot was the only one there. It’s not what you think. I don’t have feelings for him.” Thankfully I had let my blonde hair down so it was covering my face. Otherwise, he would have seen my lips trembling, my cheeks flushing, my nose twitching—my whole body trying to keep myself from crying.

  “Well, we’re here now. That’s all that counts.”

  “So is this all you wanted for Elliot’s legs? A date with me?”

  “I just wanted some alone time. You’ve constantly been avoiding me.”

  “You tried to eat me.”

  “It wasn’t on purpose. I was just pissed over what you turned me into. I tend to get hungrier when I’m mad.”

  “But it happened twice.”

  “And it wouldn’t have happened at all if it wasn’t for you,” he said.

  “But you said you understood.”

  “Alex…what do your people call themselves again?”

  “Sirens,” I said, feeling strange uttering the word. Even before I knew what I was, I had learned about Sirens long ago in mythology…but in real life, what I do isn’t as sweet. If making sailors crash against the rocks was all I did, then maybe I’d be able to sleep at night.

  “Well do you Sirens have a cure for my condition?”

  “Um…” I didn’t have the heart to tell him. I myself lost a lot of sleep over the answer, and Henry had already been through so much. I felt like the riff was already so wide, there was no way I could repair it. How could telling him the truth make it any better?

  “Do you have a cure?” he repeated. “I mean, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? That you have one.”

  “Well…yes…but, I’m not sure how to say this.”

  “What do you mean? You lost it?”

  “No, it’s not that. I—”

  “Don’t tell me you’re saving it for Elliot.”

  “No, that’s not it at all. I—I don’t know how to put this.”

  “Listen, Alex,” he said, leaning in closer. “Do you know why Elliot went out with you after he turned into a zombie?”

  “No…”

  “Well, I don’t know what you ‘Sirens’ put in your spells, but it causes you to be seen in a new light. It’s hard to explain. Before the incident, you were attractive, but afterwards? Geez, I could barely keep my eyes off of you. It’s like you put an extra spell over us and my eyes are trying to tell me you’re something you’re not. I couldn’t break the hold you had placed over me, so I had to run away. I had to get away from you just to keep my sanity, and yet...I keep coming back.”

  “So I’m not pretty now?” I asked, pinching my own leg afterwards. Now wa
s not the time to get vain.

  “I’m just saying that when I was cast under your spell…it was like my synapses or whatever finally connected. That spell you cast did more than just transform me and Elliot.”

  “So you’re saying that the only reason Elliot went out with me is because of it?”

  “Exactly, and that’s why I should get the cure you’re hiding from us. Not that idiot. I loved you before the spell’s effects. Elliot’s long since dumped you. For some reason, you still hang around him, and I have no clue why. What are you waiting for?”

  “He doesn’t try to eat me,” I said flatly. It was all I could say. How could I get Henry to realize that the day he made that attempt, starving or not, he had betrayed my trust? Somehow Elliot was able to stay in control of his urges and that automatically made him safer to be around. Okay, maybe that sounded selfish considering I took his life away from him, but it’s not like I wanted to do it.

  “Are you ever going to let that go?” Henry snapped.

  “I know you’re upset,” I said. “But I have to think about my safety. I’m sorry for what I did to you, but it was to survive. If there was another way around it, I would do it, but I can’t.”

  “So what am I supposed to do? Just be like, ‘hey, I understand,’ and then just live my life consuming others? Just roll over and pretend nothing’s wrong? I’m trying to eat this stuff,” he said, thrusting his hand toward his pasta, “but it’s like a snack. Real food doesn’t fill me up anymore.”

  “I know it’s not that simple, Henry.”

  “Um,” the waitress said, finally returning. From the smell on her uniform, I could tell she had taken a cigarette break. “Are you ready to order?”

  “I’ll take the kid’s spaghetti and meatballs,” I said, handing her the stained, laminated menu.

  “It’s only for children eight and under.”

  “The only reason I’m ordering it is because I’m trying to be nice. I actually don’t want to eat anything here. I’m a little afraid of catching some ancient disease like the black plague.”

  “Okay,” she said, half-ignoring me. “Oh! And the count is fifteen. Fifteen on staff.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And you, sir?” she said, turning to Henry. “You said you wanted to order more once your friend arrived.”

  “Yes,” he said, spinning the menu over and surveying the items. I figured it was now or never. If I told him the truth when we were alone, there was a chance I could be in danger. If someone was around us, he might hold back.

  “Henry?” I replied as he looked up at me suddenly from the menu.

  “Yes?”

  “I have the cure…but it’s in my blood.”

  His eyes ignited with energy…but it was a different kind of fire than I was used to seeing in the boy I knew since childhood. And I was so terrified, I couldn’t move.

  I didn’t expect him to lunge up at the waitress, or grab her, or slam her head on the table, or start clutching the back of her head. He opened his mouth wide toward her and I screamed—my body beginning to run away on its own—but Henry caught my wrist, and pulled me back to him with alarming strength. I turned to hit him, but he dodged the laughable attempt and kicked at my knees, causing me to fall down to the dirty floor. Leaving the unconscious waitress slumped over the table, he stood behind me, towering over me like a predator as I heard him smack his lips.

  “I’m sorry for the violence,” he said, almost sounding sincere. “But it was either her or you.”

  “Henry, you need help.”

  “Please stop talking,” he pleaded, placing a rotting hand on the top of my head.

  “What are you planning on doing to me?”

  “Nothing I want to, Alex. So…it’s in your blood?”

  “I’ve tried extracting it through a syringe,” I said, my voice beginning to waver as I thought of the odds of me breaking through his powerful grip. “But even that doesn’t work. And I’m just going off of what my mother told me before she left. She could have been lying about the cure. I—”

  “—maybe we just need more than a syringe’s worth.” He interrupted me. “If we draw your blood over time…”

  “Henry…” I said, looking around frantically for help. “It won’t work. My blood is different…once it’s out of my body, it immediately starts coagulating. It dries up. I—”

  “—you smell so good,” he whispered to me, picking up his knife and cup from the table with one hand. “Maybe I’ll just take a little at a time. I’ll stop once the cure kicks in.”

  “And what if I die?”

  He stopped as he considered my words.

  “I don’t want you to die, Alex, but you have no idea what it’s like. I can’t live like this.”

  An Excerpt From

  The Deadly Ones

  (A standalone novel)