The screams out in the street echoed throughout the neighborhood and reverberated through the brick walls of the Dansons' home."Just ignore it." Mr. Danson sighed, "Nothing can be done about it, now. Nothing at all.""He
should've realized the consequences of disobeying curfew", Mrs. Danson
said primly, "He knew it was right home at six o' clock. He only has his
own tardiness to blame."
Their son, an exceedingly pale red-haired boy, was busily at work on his history homework.
"What a dumb a--" he started to say.
"Cory! Watch your language." his mother said in a warning
tone, before turning back to her sewing basket.
"Jesus! JESUS!!!! Help! God, somebody please--"
The man's screams slid into piercing shrieks amidst the wet, ripping sounds of his limbs being separated from his body.
Hungry,
animalistic growls accompanied his shouts and ignored pleas, combining
into a cacophany throughout the block other families were busily
drowning out by way of televisions, music, and earplugs.
The
daughter of the Danson family, a slender girl with frizzy auburn hair
and eyes furtively darting out the living room window, said haltingly
from her spot on the couch,
"Can't we--can't we do something? It doesn't seem right to just let him get caught by the night eaters. Maybe we can..."
Her
voice trailed off at the family's cold glares. Her brother's pencil
dangled in his fingers as he stared at her, open-mouthed, her mother dropped her
sewing, her own mouth pursed into a thin, tight line
of disapproval, and her father's book had fallen upon the thick carpet, fear glittering in his black eyes like a pair of shiny marbles.
"Julia, you
know to obey the rules!" her father yelled. "Every evening, they have free reign and all
the fresh meat we can provide for them, and the rest of us have the
good sense to be at home at sunset. The next morning,
nobody's worse for the wear except dumb shits who don't know how to
obey the rules!"
"Language, Richard." Mrs. Danson said softly, nodding her head, as she resumed her sewing.
"I'm
trying to reach your daughter, Lillian!" he barked, "I've had
it up to here with her bleeding-heart garbage. It's gonna get us all ripped to pieces one of these days, like that poor s.o.b. out there!" he
jerked his head towards the window where the screaming had finally been
silenced and the remains of the victim were being hungrily devoured by
the growing number of
night eaters digging into the ragged fragments of his flesh.
He turned back to his daughter, the veins bulging like cords upon his neck,
"I
raised you to obey the rules, young lady. You shut your mouth and
do so unquestioningly from now on. Am I clear?"
Julia's
shoulders had slumped in submission and she nodded her head meekly. It
didn't pay to question, she thought. She didn't even know why she had
bothered.
Finally satisfied, her father gave her one last glare
before picking up his book and returning to the story of Russians vs.
Americans and the then-feared event of nuclear apocalypse.
Julia
struggled to prevent the tears from flowing freely, because she knew
that would anger her father even more. He despised her
weakness.
She walked upstairs to her bedroom and wept into the tiny embroidered roses on her pillow.Sometimes
Julia wished that so many of her
neighbors and friends wouldn't have to turn into night-eaters every
evening. She knew that it was simply the way things were, that the
curfew made those who didn't have the virus safe (except for those few
rebels who didn't have the sense to get home by sunset and in that case,
they deserved whatever they got), that it was just another natural step in
evolution--but sometimes, in her fantasies, she'd wonder what it would
feel like to let the night air brush across her skin, stare up at the
fullness of the moon and just....be.The soft rays of dawn gently rose her from slumber the next morning.
She
yawned, stretched her body, and padded tiredly to her bedroom window.
The remains of the screaming man from last night were bloodily splayed
upon the pavement, his entrails spilling onto the concrete from his
bottomless torso. His mouth was frozen into a silent howl of agony. The
steaks, hamburger, and raw chicken the block's residents had laid out
the day before, had been left untouched. The night eaters would always
ignore it if the rare living flesh was around.
The corpse on the
ground was that of her best friend's father. His car was parked
alongside his body. With a dull pain in her stomach, Julia noticed that
two of the tires were flat.
Her hand dropped from the curtain and she turned away, a tear streaming down her cheek and plopping onto the carpet.
After all, it was just another natural step.
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