“Just a Barred Owl, scaredy cat.”
“Why is it so loud?”
“Probably because he’s horny.”
We heard it again, so I mimicked the call. Kitten copied me, and we hooted back and forth with the owl for a while. Then, suddenly, it stopped. The forest fell silent, eerily so. The hairs raised on my arms, and I put my finger to my mouth to silence Kitten. I heard the crunch of leaves and scanned our campsite to find everyone still asleep. Jumping to my feet, I donned the night vision goggles to survey the woods around us. I had only managed to push Kitten behind me when the first Rabid came into view.
EIGHT
KITTEN
They came out of nowhere—people?No, not people. Rabids. Even as they stumbled and lurched, they moved swiftly, not caring if they tripped or fell in their pursuit. Some hobbled along, dragging their broken and dislocated limbs behind them. All of them were headed in our direction.
Instead of waiting for them to reach the rocks, Cipher hollered for the others, then leapt to the ground and met their attack head-on. With his machete in one hand and a knife in the other, he struck two at once, slicing one across one’s neck while impaling the other in the gut. Blood gushed from their wounds as both shuddered and dropped to the ground where they twitched and seized with death spasms.
Three more attacked from behind and Cipher swiveled like a bullfighter and launched himself at the nearest one, driving his machete upward and slicing the Rabid in one brutal stroke. Their guts spilled out onto the ground, polluting the sweet summer air with the stink of blood, urine, and feces. I gagged and tried not to vomit as the Rabid dropped to their knees, uttering a sickening groan before face-planting in the dirt. The other two received a similar treatment. Blood and guts were strewn about like party decorations, but still there were more coming.
“Cipher, behind you,” I shouted, and suddenly there was a crash at my side. Macon and Artemis were there, armed to the teeth. Macon joined Cipher in the fray, swinging his axe as easily as he chopped firewood, lopping off limbs and bashing in heads. The sounds of bones breaking and skulls cracking turned my stomach, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the battle. As more poured in from the woods, Artemis aimed her crossbow at the tree line and picked them off one-by-one with deadly precision. Kill shots, every one.
Cipher was fending off two more attackers, but there was a third approaching him from behind with its mouth already open and frothing with spit, its jaw so wide that it looked unhinged. Cipher couldn’t possibly fight them all at once, so I scrambled down from the rocks with my knife in hand and ran at full-speed toward the Rabid. Knocking him off his feet, I pounced on him like Little Miss Purrfect and jabbed my blade deep into his guts as fast and as hard as I could, over and over, until we were both gory with blood.
“You got him, Kitten. He’s dead,” Cipher said as he pulled me off him.
The four of us faced outward with our backs to one another, prepared for another attack, but there seemed to be no more approaching. I couldn’t hearanything, save for my blood pounding in my ears like a war drum, and the hammering of my own heart.
“Come and get it, you fucking cannibals,” Macon shouted and beat his chest, raising his axe high in the air–the head of it was dripping with blood–but the woods were quiet. After another minute or so, the owl started hooting again.
Artemis stayed by my side, crossbow at the ready, while Cipher and Macon prodded and poked at the bodies on the ground, making sure all of them were dead. Those who weren’t, received a final death blow. Then they set about severing their spinal cords, Macon with his axe and Cipher with his machete, while Artemis collected her arrows. I didn’t watch that part, but swung my gaze over to the campsite where Gizmo stood armed with a harpoon with Teresa in front of him, a dagger in each hand. They appeared to be ready for action, eyes glittering ferociously in the camp’s firelight. Luckily, the Rabids never made it that far.
My lungs finally caught up to me, my breath coming fast and shallow, and I reminded myself to breathe deeply, in through my nose and out through my mouth so that I wouldn’t hyperventilate and trigger an asthma attack.
“Did they bite you?” Cipher asked as he used a dry bit of his t-shirt to wipe the blood from my face. Still wearing his night-vision goggles, he placed his hands on my shoulders and inspected me all over.
“No.” I shook my head. But my shirt was soaked through with blood. I pulled the fabric away from my chest where it clung to me. My stomach heaved and I gagged again.
“We’ll burn it,” he said, then pulled me into his arms and gripped me tightly. He seemed to realize he was hugging me and yanked me back sharply. “I told you to stay on the rocks.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
“I didn’t hear you,” I said, which was the truth.
“You’re lucky you weren’t bitten or killed,” he said sternly.
“You’relucky you weren’t bitten or killed,” I shot back.
“Short stack saved your life,” Macon said and thumped me on the back.
“Thank you, Macon,” I said and wiped my knife on the clothing of one of the bodies lying on the ground. They hardly looked human, and yet, they resembled my mother in her last days. Ghastly, twisted, starving versions of their former selves. They were sick. Sick human beings. They didn’t want to become this, and they had no control over it happening. And now, they were dead. We killed them.
I started shaking at the enormity of it all. This was what had been happening all along to our friends and family, our parents and siblings, all over the world. Any of these people could have been my brother. The realization hit me as I searched their faces to make sure I didn’t recognize any of them. Cipher removed his goggles and yanked me back by my shoulder.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded.
“N-nothing,” I said, my teeth beginning to chatter. “I just wanted to see if I knew them.”
“Do you?” he asked.
