D. Walker - The Snacking Dead

Up ahead the road ended in a lake. The creek was flooded. Time to hoof it. He found a low mound and hid the Bonneville behind it in vines and poplar. He didn’t like to stash his brother’s bike like that, but where was his damn brother now?

The living made claims on you the dead couldn’t, even if you didn’t want them to. The sheriff, the children, the old man, the woman with the secret strength, they’d all lost family. Now they were the only family he had left. He’d do what he could for them.

He tried not to think about it. He grabbed the hatchet, adjusted the crossbow, and started walking.

Daryl was going shopping.

“H ellooo, dinner,”Daryl said, shifting the crossbow to his back. He pulled his bolt from where it had stapled the squirrel to a tree.

He tried to remember if he’d cleaned the bolt since the last walker he’d brained. He was sure he had. He sniffed it. Pretty sure.

He hooked the squirrel under his belt and continued east. Without the chopper he’d have to stay off the main road, which was basically a big old biter tailgate party. He’d stick to the woods and fields and parallel Route 16 at least till the river. From there he’d see.

The woods were quiet. No quail, not even a rabbit. Poplar shoots were everywhere, meaning deer hadn’t eaten them. He’d seen a half-chewed doe that could’ve made a good meal if it hadn’t been slobbered on by a bunch of dead assholes.

If he couldn’t hunt, he’d have to raid houses. There wasn’t much between here and the Flint River. He’d make it the rest of the day on squirrel power though.

At dusk he came to a white house, its porch mostly swallowed up by honeysuckle. No car out front. Big propane tank out back. He pushed the back door open and pounded loudly, hiding himself behind the door jamb like a pranking kid.

He gave it a minute. Nothing.

He did a sweep of the house, then tested the oven. Bingo, some propane left in that tank.

The kitchen smelled faintly of paprika. He liked raw squirrel well enough, but there were other ways to fix it, too.

makes 15 poppers

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 cups finely chopped cooked squirrel meat or rotisserie chicken

½ teaspoon sweet paprika

Coarse kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

2¼ cups all-purpose flour

¾ cup chicken broth

¼ cup heavy cream

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1 teaspoon paprika

2 teaspoons flaky sea salt

1 tablespoon finely chopped Italian flat-leaf parsley

2 eggs

2 cups bread crumbs or panko

Canola oil

Lemon wedges, for serving

1 In a large skillet set over medium-high heat melt the butter. Add the squirrel or chicken and season with the sweet paprika, salt, and pepper. Stir in ¼ cup of the flour until a smooth paste forms. Gradually whisk in the chicken broth and 3 tablespoons of the cream. Simmer until thickened, about 4 minutes; whisk in lemon juice, then transfer the mixture to a bowl, cover, and chill for at least 1 hour.

2 In a small bowl, use your hand to mix together the paprika, sea salt, and parsley.

3 Use dampened hands to divide the chicken mixture into 15 balls (about 2 tablespoons each). In a medium bowl, add the remaining flour. In a second medium bowl, whisk together the eggs with 1 tablespoon cream. In a third bowl add the bread crumbs. Dredge each chilled croquette first in the flour, then in the egg, and finally coat the croquettes with bread crumbs and transfer to a plate.

4 Add enough oil to come 1 inch up the sides of a medium saucepan. Heat until shimmering then fry the croquettes in batches until golden brown and heated through, 5 to 7 minutes. Sprinkle with the parsley-paprika sea salt and serve immediately with lemon wedges.

Paprika is a tasty complement for nearly any small woodland creature or urban rodent.

T he house had a tidy air that made him feelevery inch an uncivilized redneck. He slept outside on the porch, his hatchet nestled in the crook of his arm.

Next morning he watched as orange butterflies hovered over a big mound of honeysuckle in the yard. He went for a closer look. A hollow eye socket stared back at him through the sweet-smelling blossoms. He shifted a bit of the vine with the tip of his hatchet. He made out a ripped pink floral housecoat, faded almost gray by the seasons. He turned and went back in the house.

The fridge was stocked with mold, tendrils creeping around the door and up the side like fingers. In the freezer were some thawed pizzas slouched in their plastic packaging. Hell, he decided, those things never go bad, and anyway pizza was like beer. When it’s good it’s real good, and when it’s bad it’s still pretty good.

He hadn’t figured Mrs. Floral Print for the frozen-pizza type. He thanked her silently. He remembered the girl with the sandwiches from when he was a kid. She could make serious vittles out of anything. Once she had pulled a frozen pizza from the permafrost of his dad’s freezer and next thing he’d known she’d made a sandwich. She had never seemed to mind, but Daryl knew he hadn’t done a thing to deserve it.

He hadn’t been able to tell her what he’d been feeling, and even if he had, he’d been afraid of what might come out. Then she had moved away and it was too late. He never saw her again and never got to say good-bye. But her food was a kindness he never forgot.

It started to rain outside. He opened an envelope sitting on the kitchen table. A card.

“Get well soon,” it said. He stood it on a shelf.

Better late than never, I guess. But not by much.

He tore into the pizzas.

makes 2 sandwiches

1 (10-inch) store-bought cheese pizza

4 slices bacon, halved crosswise

2 tablespoons mayonnaise

Freshly ground black pepper

4 butter lettuce leaves

½ tomato, sliced into 4 rounds

¾ pound cooked turkey breast, sliced into 8 slices

1 Bake the pizza according to the package instructions. When just cool enough to handle, slice into four 5-inch by 3-inch squares. (Eat the scraps.)

2 While the pizza is baking, heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the bacon and cook until browned and crisp, 3 to 4 minutes on each side. Transfer to a paper towel–lined plate and set aside to cool.

3 To assemble each sandwich: Arrange 2 pizza slices in a row, cheese side up. Spread each with 1 tablespoon of mayonnaise and season with pepper. Place 2 lettuce leaves on top of the mayonnaise and then top with 2 tomato slices. Layer 2 slices of the bacon over the tomatoes and top with half of the turkey. Carefully top each with the remaining slices of pizza, cheese side down.