Eaters: Resurrection

by Michelle DePaepe

“I…I don’t…” She turned around and headed towards the door.

  “Maria…” Diego called after her.

  She stopped, exhaled, and turned around. “What?”

  “If this could be our last meal, our last day alive, is there anything else you could bring us to eat?”

  She looked at him with what seemed like a moment of sympathy. “I might have something else.” She left, shutting the door firmly behind her and locking it.

  “Nice try, amigo.” Zach said to Diego. “You let her get away.”

  “She’ll be back,” he replied.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I charmed her with my magic.”

  “Pfff! You should have let a real man have a try.”

  “You’re looking at a real man,” Diego said as he proffered a fist.

  As Zach and Diego continued with their banter, Cheryl rolled her eyes. At least the two of them were good for entertainment, if nothing else.

  Vinnie scarfed down a cookie and went back to sleep on the cot, seeming to prefer the land of dreams to the real nightmare they were living in. Cheryl decided not to eat any more. Her head felt a little fuzzy, and she wasn’t sure if it was from something in the cookie, or if she was just exhausted and strained beyond capacity.

  As he argued with Diego, Zach took a bite of cookie then spat it out on the floor. “These are worse than Hannah’s crummy biscuits were. What are they made of…cow dung?”

  “Don’t eat them,” Aidan said. “They might be drugged.”

  That statement caused Zach to spit a few more times, trying to get the rest of the crumbs out of his mouth. Then, he took a swig of water and laid into Diego again about his failure to entice Maria to release them.

  Cheryl went to the window and Aidan came up beside her. With Vinnie asleep and Zach and Diego going at it, she couldn’t resist spilling her fears to him. “Did you see that fire pit in the courtyard?”

  “Yes.”

  “It looked like it had human bones in it. And those skulls out front…”

  Aidan nestled his chin on her shoulder.

  She continued with her rant, needing to purge some of the fear in her head. “No one seems to be starving here. They’re not fat, but they’re not skinny either. The Sheriff…all the visitors to the jail…Maria. They’re eating well enough. And, you saw that Camacho brought canned food to Hector to trade for us…”

  “Right,” he said lifting his head and staring out the window at the blue sky with wisps of cottony clouds floating by. “The food stores and livestock were eaten long ago; game is scarce, and if they’re smart, they know not to eat crops that could be contaminated.”

  “So what are they eating?”

  “Outsiders?” she asked under her breath.

  “We can’t rule that out,” he said. “All the bedding we saw in the hallways. Where are all those people?”

  “Maybe they were strangers from out of town seeking shelter and ended up in the fire pit, instead.”

  Cheryl closed her eyes for a second. It wasn’t unthinkable. The townspeople might have turned cannibalistic. That could explain the skulls on pikes out front—they could be from some ritualistic decapitation ceremony before the bodies of strangers were prepared for the fire. She hoped she was wrong.

  “I hate to say it,” she admitted. “But it seems possible. Back in high school, I read a book about the Donner Party. It was in the 1840’s. A group of people traveling to California got stuck in the Sierra Nevadas during winter and ate the corpses of those who didn’t survive, so they wouldn’t starve to death. Just think how long this apocalypse has gone on, how desperate some people might be.”

  “Desperate?” Aidan said. “Try crazy. Those visitors were out of their minds. Here we are…live people… and they ignored us while they fed the dead. We have to get out of here before we’re doomed to be the guests of honor at their next barbecue.”

  “How?” she asked.

  “Maria.”

  “We may never see her again. And even if she does come back, I don’t think she’s going to help us.”

  “Maybe not willingly.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “She’s got an eye for Diego.”

  “So?”

  “Maybe we can use that.”

  “How?”

  “She’s got some keys.”

  “What?” she asked. “I didn’t see her any keys.”

  “I’ve only found one advantage to only having one eye. It makes my sight more acute with the one I have left.”

  “What…you can see through clothing now?”

  “No,” he said. “But I notice things. There was a little bulge underneath her shirt just above her pocket. It looked like the curve of one of those expandable, rubber key rings.”

  “That doesn’t mean she has keys to the cells.”

  “Not necessarily…but it might mean she does.”

  When Aidan left the window to talk to Diego and Zach, Cheryl turned her gaze back outside. Darker clouds were rolling in now making the sky an ominous shade of gray. A light rain began to fall, dotting the glass with streaks of raindrops. She heard Vinnie snoring, but every few seconds he let out a little terrified yelp that sounded like he was running from something that was chasing him. Poor Vinny. Can’t even find some peace in his dreams.

  The rain began to fall in large drops pelting the window then started to come down in a torrent like a spring gully washer. Cheryl lay down on the other cot listening to the sound of the water pelting the building. She wanted to rest, to wash her mind clean and imagine better times, but she couldn’t stop thinking about those charred bones in the fire pit…and those white skulls out front with empty eye sockets and toothy, gaping jaw bones.

  Chapter 11

  Two days passed. The only people they saw were visitors for the jailed Eaters. Some had been there before, and some were new, but all of them ignored the live humans calling out to them for help. Like the ones before, they seemed to have been coached to keep their eyes down and pretend not to hear any pleas from the captives. Cheryl wondered if they’d been told that she and her friends were guilty of heinous crimes and were slated to be a sacrificed for the community dinner table.

  She’d been watching out the window a lot lately. It helped to pass the time and ignore her grumbling stomach even when there was nothing to see except a butterfly flitting by, a bird up in the tree, or more visitors coming up the walk to the police station. On this sunny morning at her window post, she wondered if any of the visitors would at least entertain a request to send a message to the Sheriff. Surely, there was some sort of deal they could strike with him if they could just speak with him.

  She got bored with the view outside and was about to join Aidan and Zach on the floor near the bars where they were taunting some of the Eaters in the nearest cell when she saw a white van pull into the driveway. Her heart began to race and her throat went dry before she managed to croak out, “Guys…we’ve got more visitors.”

  “So?” Aidan said before going back to cackling about how ridiculous the Eater with only one foot looked as he hopped around the cell and kept getting knocked over by the others.

  “It’s a O.N.E. van.”

  Everyone jumped up at once and ran to the window. They watched as three men dressed in black tactical gear, carrying rifles stepped out. Their heads were bare and their faces looked pensive as they stared toward the building. A second later, the Sheriff came out to greet them. He was boisterous and gesturing freely while the O.N.E. men looked more solemn and serious. One of them took a folded piece of paper from his shirt, opened it and handed it to the Sheriff. He nodded and pointed towards the police station.

  “Oh…” Cheryl gasped. “They’re here for us.”

  “Shit!” Vinnie yelped. “How’d they find us? How’d they—”

  “Shut up,” Diego said. “Obviously, that’s why Camacho brought us here. He knew we were wanted.”

  Panicked, they all began to argue, bl
aming each other for what had gone wrong, and second guessing what they should have done before they were ambushed back at Hector’s.

  “Look…it doesn’t matter now,” Cheryl said. “They’ve found us. Now, we figure out how to stay alive once they’ve got us in that—”

  The door to the jail opened. It was Maria. She rushed inside carrying a plastic grocery sack. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she said as she approached the bars. “I couldn’t come back earlier. Frank sent me on some lame-brained errand to Socorro.” She held the plastic bag out to Diego. “They’re going to take you now. I…made these this morning and I wanted to—”

  Diego grabbed her wrist and pulled her against the bars, smashing her face into them.

  “Ow ow ow…you’re hurting me!” she screamed as the bag dropped to the ground and muffins rolled across the floor.

  He ignored her cries and the increasing agitation of the Eaters as he held her fast. Zach reached through the bars, lifted up the hem of her shirt and pulled the key ring until it broke through her belt loop and snapped off.

  “What are these keys to?” Zach demanded.

  She kept whimpering.

  Diego grabbed fist full of her hair with his other hand and yanked her head into the bars. “Tell us or I’ll pull your damn arm off!”

  Maria continued to cry.

  “Just try them!” Diego yelled.

  Zach fumbled with the keys. His hands were visibly shaking as he singled one out, and reached through the bars to try it in the door lock.

  “They’re coming up the walk!” Cheryl warned as she saw the menacing O.N.E. guards coming towards the building behind the Sheriff.

  Zach tried a second key, and a third, but there were still eight or nine keys left to go.

  “Which one is it?” Diego yelled directly in Maria’s ear. “Tell us!”

  “It’s silver! Silver!” she cried.

  “They’re in,” Cheryl said, knowing they only had a couple more minutes or so before the men made it through the meandering, dark hallways to the jail.

  There were four silver keys amongst the bronze ones that were left. When Zach tried the third one out of those, they finally heard a satisfying click as the key turned in the cylinder.

  “Hold on to her,” Zach told Diego.

  Diego kept a hold on Maria’s arm and pulled her by the hair so her body swung away from the door. Then, Zach pushed the door open, enough for them to squeeze through.

  “What about her?” Diego asked, still holding on.

  “Who cares?” Zach yelled as he sprung from the cell.

  Vinnie was on his heels, followed by Cheryl, then Aidan. As Zach ran towards the jail door, Cheryl yelled, “Wait!”

  “What?” Zach asked as he put his hand on the door knob.

  “We’ll just be target practice in those long hallways. We need a distraction.” She nodded towards the other cells. “Let them out.”

  He sighed and his lips tightened into a grim line as he ran towards the last cell on the row with the keys in his hand.

  Diego released his hold on Maria. “You’ll be safer in here,” he said, motioning towards the cell he was still standing in. She glanced towards the jail door and back at the first Eaters lumbering out of the cell coming towards her. She nodded, walked through the cell door, and stood in front of Diego. She put one hand on the back of her head, rubbed it, and said, “Good luck.”

  He smiled at her then bolted out of the cell and slammed the door shut behind him, locking her in.

  There were a more than a dozen Eaters trailing behind Zach as he raced to open the last cell door. “Let’s go!” he yelled as he unlocked it and flung it open.

  They opened the jail door and entered the dark hallway. There was no time to pause and think—there were hungry Eaters with hands outstretched like claws just a few feet behind them and they could hear voices of men coming towards them from one of the adjacent hallways.

  “This way!” Aidan said, keeping his voice low.

  They ducked into a corridor on the right and ran as fast as they could while dodging piles of trash, blankets, and pillows. There was a loud crash as Vinnie knocked over a large metal bowl, sloshing whatever it contained all over the hall.

  “Shhh…” they all scolded at once.

  “I’m sorry. Geez.”

  “They’re coming,” Cheryl said.

  They stopped for a second and heard the mumble of voices down at the far end of the corridor.

  “In here!” Zach whispered.

  They ducked into an office, shut the door behind them, and looked for someplace to hide amongst the desk, chairs, and tall file cabinet. The space was small, and sunlight streamed in through the window, chasing away even shadows that might have been cover for them.

  As they argued about what to do next, the voices in the hall became louder.

  Cheryl looked out the window. It overlooked the back parking lot where a handful of black and white police cars with smashed windshields were parked. She tried to shove the latches open but stopped and ducked down when she saw a man walk by with a bear-sized dog on a leash, followed by a couple of men wielding rifles. How are we going to get out of here?

  The voices were nearly to the door. Now they sounded more like moans than intelligent conversation. They all looked at the door with concern. While a closed door would normally be enough to stop an Eater from entering, the door latch was broken, so it wouldn’t firmly shut.

  “Block the door!” Zach yelled.

  Diego started to shove the file cabinet, trying to tip it over. The metal squealed loudly as it scraped against the tile. He shifted his weight near the top and was about to knock it over when

  Zach stopped him.

  “No, stupid. They’ll hear it!”

  Aidan grabbed one of the chairs by the desk. “Wedge this under the knob.”

  As quickly and quietly as they could, they wedged the chair against the door then stepped back, looking around the room for anything to use as a weapon. Their choices were limited. There was a heavy three-hole punch, a stapler, a keyboard, and a flat screen monitor on the desk. Cheryl rifled around the desk drawers and pulled out a knife opener, while Vinnie took the hole punch, and the others just braced themselves for a possible attack with their fists clenched.

  The moaning voices were in front of the door now. They all held their breath as the Eaters lingered, possibly confused by the scent of prey but not knowing where it was coming from. After a couple of seconds, they moved on, dragging and thumping down the hallway.

  None of them relaxed, because there was shouting now. The breech had been discovered. They waited for the rat-tat-tat of gunfire as the Sheriff and O.N.E. guards encountered the loose Eaters, but none came.

  Cheryl tried to make sense of what she was and was not hearing. They’re not killing them. They’re trying to corral them and put them back in the cells, so their friends and relatives won’t be angry. That Sheriff, Frank Heitman, must be some kind of persuasive genius to keep those armed men in black from firing.

  There was the sound of more Eaters stumbling by their door.

  Keep going. Just go on past us. Please…

  Zach and Diego started whispering.

  “Too bad we couldn’t have stuck around,” Diego said. “That Maria is pretty cute. I think she has the hots for me.”

  “Believe what you want, amigo...” Zach whispered. “But, I think she thought you’d look good next to a side of mashed potatoes.”

  “Will you two shut up?” Cheryl said. “Just listen…”

  Holding their breath, they listened to try and figure what was going on out in the hall and the rest of the building. There were no new voices. No sound…of anything.

  After a few more minutes, Cheryl said, “It’s quiet out there now. Maybe they’re searching in another part of the building. We need to get out of here.” She got up and looked out the window again. Their exit definitely wasn’t going to be that way. The men with the guns and the dog were still hanging
out in the parking lot. They were just standing there and chatting with no apparent sense of urgency, and there would be no way to get out the window without drawing their attention.

  Aidan put his ear to the door. Then, he lifted his head back up and put his hand on the chair.

  There were a few cautious nods amongst them.

  He quietly removed the chair and said, “Who’s going first?”

  “I’ll do it,” Diego said. He turned to Vinnie. “Give me that thing.”

  “The hole punch?”

  “Whatever.”

  After hesitating for a second with the crevices on his forehead growing deeper, Vinnie handed it to him. Diego inhaled a deep breath, turned the door knob, and cracked the door open. He paused, listening. Then, he opened the door wider, put his head through and looked up and down the hall.

  He glanced back towards them. “Come on…it’s—” Diego was half way through the door when he stopped. “Aaaagh!” His head bent to the right at an awkward angle, and his feet stopped cold.

  They saw the mottled gray fingers locked around a fistful of his dirty blond hair. He struggled with the attacker who’d been hiding behind the door, fending him off with one hand and trying to whack him with the hole punch with the other.

  Zach shoved past Diego, nearly knocking him off his feet. Aidan and Cheryl followed behind him and saw the ghoul. It was Ronnie, the one with the handlebar mustache who’d had the first visitors. He snarled and bared a mouthful of darkened teeth as he tried to pull Diego’s neck towards his mouth. Diego hit him as hard as he could, but it didn’t seem to do any good.

  With a swift kick to the ribs, Zach knocked Ronnie into the wall, taking Diego with him. Diego dropped the hole punch and used a powerful upper cut to knock his attacker’s head backwards. It cracked Ronnie’s windpipe and left his head dangling to the side. Diego stepped back and gave a quick glance at the handful of hair still in the Eater’s fist and said, “Come on…”

  They ran down the hall, searching for an exit. As they turned down an adjacent hallway past a cafeteria, they heard shouting voices not far behind them.

  “Hurry!” Cheryl gasped as she ran beside the men.