Tim Meyer - Less Than Human

Ben stopped in the middle of the street. While his eyes darted from house to house, toward neighboring streets, an overwhelming, panicky sensation coursed through him. He placed his hands on his knees, preparing to vomit.

“You okay?” Victoria asked.

“Just tired.”

“Ben? Map?” Josh asked.

It took Ben a moment, but clarity washed over him. Nodding, he rose. “We can search the houses. Someone is bound to have a map.”

“I doubt many people have a map of their hometown just sitting around, but yeah,” Josh said. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Better than walking around aimlessly, right?” Brit asked.

“Right.”

“Okay.” Ben pointed to Josh. “You take Brit and Emily. Victoria come with me.”

“I’m not leaving my babies again,” Victoria said sternly.

“Mom—” Brit started to say, her face reddening.

“Don’t Mom me.” Her eyes welled. “I almost lost you two before. It’s never going to happen again. Understand?”

Together, Brit and Emily nodded.

“Okay. I’ll go by myself,” Ben said.

“I’ll go with you,” Josh said.

“No, you go with the girls.”

Josh didn’t argue.

“Five minutes in each house. Not a second longer. We meet back in the street before entering the next one. Agreed?”

Josh and the girls agreed silently.

The first house they stepped foot in had been ransacked. The refrigerator was open and empty. The stained oak cabinets were ajar, unwanted contents tossed haphazardly on the countertop. Pet bowls filled to the brim remained untouched. Chairs around the kitchen table were pushed over. The couch cushions were overturned, a few them on the floor.

“I don’t feel safe in here,” Victoria told Josh.

“Let’s go. It’s impossible to find anything in this mess anyway.”

They quickly rushed out of the house, ran down the driveway, and waited in the street for Ben to finish his search. A minute later, Ben emerged from the front door, looking as depressed as he had upon entering.

“Anything?” Josh asked.

Ben shook his head. “You?”

“Nope. We’re heading to the next one.”

Ben nodded.

He opened the front door, immediately smelling it. Something rotten. Shit. At first he stepped back, not wanting to risk the chance of tangling with dead again. Going almost twenty-four hours without seeing a walking corpse was a streak Ben wasn’t anxious to break. However, he felt something tugging at him. Begging him to enter.

Hesitantly, Ben stepped foot in the house.

The living room was trashed, much like the neighbor’s house. What the hell happened here? His nerves were on edge. What if we reach Melissa’s and it’s like this? It was a plausible scenario, one he wasn’t quite prepared to handle. He kept telling himself that it was okay, that Crown Avenue—for all he knew—was on the other end of town. Maybe nothing bad happened there yet. Yet. Dread set in. His stomach felt hollow. His heart pumped abnormally fast. He closed his eyes, praying to whatever God allowed this to happen, begging Him for his son’s safety.

Something moved above him.

Ben’s eyes shot open. He listened closely. The quiet noise repeated. Ben glanced at the ceiling.

Jesus Christ. There’s someone up there.

Ben sprinted toward the stairs. He bounded three steps at a time until he reached the corridor. He looked down the hall and saw three doors; two open, one closed. Cautiously, he crept down the hallway, passing the two open doors, peering inside the rooms while strolling by. Empty. Well, not quite. Clothes were thrown about messily. Bags of potato chips and candy wrappers littered the floor. Ben could barely see the carpet. The other room was trashed similarly.

He focused on the closed door. Again, something bumped about inside.

I must be insane, Ben thought. He tried the door knob. Locked. Ben exhaled. Well, here we go. Feeling like he was no longer in control of his body, Ben kicked in the door.

Eyes immediately upon him. Ben’s heart sunk.

Shit.

Josh stepped into the kitchen and immediately recoiled.

“What is it?” Victoria asked.

“Don’t come in here,” Josh told them.

“Is it… a zombie?” Emily asked.

“No. Just…” Josh shook his head. “Stay there. All of you. I’ll search the kitchen myself.”

Victoria huddled her daughters into the living room and waited. The house was less messy than the previous one. They were able to walk around without stepping in mounds of garbage. Victoria sat herself on the couch. Her daughters followed.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

He passed a hanged woman who had tied herself to the ceiling fan and kicked a chair out from under herself. Her skin was gray, a tone he had been accustomed to seeing lately. Josh surveyed her. There were no bites on her arms and legs. Maybe Ben’s kid has a chance yet. He walked past her, his gaze fixated on her cold, open eyes. He waited for her corpse to spring to life, but it never did.

Josh started rummaging through the drawers, finding nothing useful. No map. No GPS. Nothing they could use to find Melissa’s house. We’d be half way to that convenience store by now.

Josh opened the cabinet above his head. His heart skipped when he saw what was staring him in the face. His nerves tingled with delight. He cooed affectionately, not realizing he had done so. He imagined it smiling at him, opening its invisible arms and hugging him.

The dragon within grinned.

The plastic bottle containing opiates glowed in the dim kitchen. Josh licked his lips. His body and brain clashed.

The dragon crept forward.

Josh grabbed the bottle and felt power ebb through his veins. The rush of how good it would feel to take one pill into his mouth and swallow waded him. That phantom sensation.

The dragon purred.

The name printed on the bottle was Kelly Monroe of 1243 Yardsmith Street.

Josh glanced at Kelly, who remained hanged. “Sorry, Ms. Monroe.” The bottle popped opened gracefully. “Doesn’t look like you’ll be needing these any more.” He tapped the bottle and watched its contents invade his palm.

The dragon’s eyes widened with delight.

Then, he dropped them into the sink. “And neither will I.” He ran the water and watched the pills disappear inside the drain.

The dragon’s throat had been slashed, rivers of blood flooding the countryside.

A few moments later he entered the living room.

“Who were you talking to?” Victoria asked.

“Nobody,” he said dismally.

“You okay?” Brit asked.

“Yup.”

“Find anything?” asked Emily.

Josh shook his head and pushed open the front door, the sickness causing his body to tremor.

Ben’s legs weakened. The figure shifted in the corner of the room. Its eyes fixed on Ben’s. Eyebrows furrowing, the figure hunched over, as if it planned to leap across a small brook. Ben put his palm up.

“Wait,” Ben said. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The figure grumbled. It remained where it was, shrinking back into the shadows the window blinds provided.

“Are you hurt?” Ben asked.

For a second, the figure said nothing. “I’ve felt better.”

“I’m not here to cause any problems.”

“Then what the fuck are you doing in my house?” An elderly man vacated the shadows. He reminded Ben of a toad; short, round, with bug-like eyes resting above droopy patches of skin. His flesh was riddled with brown spots. A white gauze pad clung to his neck. In the center of it, Ben noticed a rust-colored stain. “Hmm?”