Brian Keene: Entombed

“Kill you,” he shouted. “Kill you, you crazy fuck.”

“You’re the one whose crazy, Chuck.”

He did something unexpected then. Instead of throwing another punch or lunging at me, he dropped to the floor and swung his leg out, kicking me hard in the knee. There was a popping noise, followed by a fresh burst of pain. My legs buckled and I dropped. I barely managed to keep my grip on the knife.

On the far end of the dining room, Nicole and Emma had turned back into Alyssa and Hannah again. Both of them cowered atop a table in the far corner, watching with horror as I fought to rescue them.

“It’ll be okay,” I tried to say, hoping they could understand me. “It will all—”

Chuck’s heel slammed into my chin, jerking my head up and knocking me backward. My teeth clamped down on my tongue, and my mouth filled with more blood. Something small but solid slid down my throat, and I wondered if I’d just swallowed a piece of myself. If so, it was the only thing I’d had to eat in too long a time. My stomach growled again. I lay there, sprawled on my back. The lights seemed to dim and there was a rushing sound in my ears. When I tried to sit up, I found to my dismay that I couldn’t. My body didn’t seem to work anymore. Worse, I’d lost the butcher knife and was now defenseless.

Chuck squatted over me, one knee on each side of my ribs, and grabbed my collar. Then he leaned over and yanked my head up off the floor until my face was only inches from his. I watched my blood run slowly down his cheeks and forehead.

“I’m not even going to bother to cook you,” he said. “I’m going to eat you raw.”

I shook my head. When I opened my mouth to speak, all that came out was a low wine. The room wouldn’t stop spinning.

“What’s that?” he asked, leaning closer still. “What did you say, Pe—”

I clamped down on his nose with my broken teeth and with every last reserve of strength, bit him as hard as I could. I can honestly say that I think it hurt me worse than it hurt him, but at that moment, I didn’t care. The result was instantaneous. Chuck wriggled and shrieked as if he’d been electrocuted. Warm blood—his blood—filled my mouth, and I relished the taste. It was different from my own. He tried to pull away, but I exerted more pressure. My jaw and teeth were in agony, and the harder I bit, the more it hurt. I’d never felt anything more delightful. It was better than sex. He struggled harder, hammering me with wild, frantic blows, but I barely felt them. His blood rejuvenated me. Filled me. The pain was like the morning’s first cup of coffee. I felt reborn.

Chuck gave one final, mighty heave and my teeth clacked together as his nose came off in my mouth. Screaming, Chuck toppled backward. Blood gushed from the ragged hole in his face. His hands fluttered to the wound in a futile attempt to staunch the flow. I sat up slowly, chewing the morsel, relishing the taste and feel and texture. I wanted more. As Chuck flopped around, I found my knife.

I tried to speak, tried to tell him that the first thing I’d need to do was skin him, because I didn’t relish eating those magic marker tattoos. I wanted to tell him these things, but I didn’t because it hurt too much to talk. Instead, I decided to just show him what I intended to do.

And then I did.

It is what it is. Just like it says on the wooden token.

You do whatever you have to do to survive in this place. Things are how they are. And if the situation changes, and life throws you a curveball, then you’d better well fucking adapt.

Adapt or die.

I didn’t know for sure if we were alive or dead, in the bunker or in Hell, and in the days since all of that happened, I still don’t know. But Alyssa and Hannah are here with me, and that’s all that really matters, in the end. They screamed a lot, the first day, but they calmed down after I proved that I could provide for them. They’re not hungry anymore. They won’t starve. Oh, believe me, it wasn’t easy, proving myself to them. They didn’t want to eat at first. I had to force them. But I think they like it now. They like staying alive.

Chuck was the alpha male, but Chuck is gone. Now, I am the alpha male. That means I’m the leader. The leader of the pack. The top dog in this dog eat dog world, and as such, we ate the former top dog first. Now we’ve started on the others. They should last us awhile. And, eventually, when we run out of food again, I’ll finally open the bunker doors and go outside in search of fresh meat. Those things out there can’t hurt us. I have no fear of them.

I’m already dead.

BRIAN KEENEis the author of over twenty-five books, including Darkness on the Edge of Town, Urban Gothic, Castaways , Kill Whitey , Dark Hollow , Dead Sea, Ghoul and The Rising . He also writes comic books such as The Last Zombie, Doom Patrol and Dead of Night: Devil Slayer . His work has been translated into German, Spanish, Polish, Italian, French and Taiwanese. Several of his novels and stories have been developed for film, including Ghoul and The Ties That Bind . In addition to writing, Keene also oversees Maelstrom, his own small press publishing imprint specializing in collectible limited editions, via Thunderstorm Books. Keene’s work has been praised in such diverse places as The New York Times , The History Channel, The Howard Stern Show, CNN.com, Publisher’s Weekly , Media Bistro, Fangoria Magazine, and Rue Morgue Magazine. Keene lives in Pennsylvania. You can communicate with him online at www.briankeene.comor on Twitter at @BrianKeene

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Entombed copyright 2011 by Brian Keene

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