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The sounds of screams and random gunfire echoed in the darkening canyon of office buildings, the sun ducked for cover beyond Jersey to the west. Bits of skull and brain matter flecked the adjacent wall and floor. It had only taken one Apples ’n’ Spice candle to teach him his lesson. Karl’s eyes roved to The Wall of Beauty, a veritable tapestry of pinups, centerfolds, magazine clippings, and most personally gratifying (and now, in retrospect, most painfully sentimental), Polaroids from the good old days when he was “getting some” and could occasionally convince his conquests to pose for him in the raw. Back in the day, one of Karl’s fave porn starlets offed herself. He pitched forward, his bony, naked ass slamming against the sash as his legs pinwheeled by her astonished face. She dragged her feet across the floor toward the open window Mike fell through. Cadaverous, leathery skin, yellow as a dead plucked chicken, translucent enough to display dull plum-tinted veins, blackened gums receded all the way, teeth huge, eyes glazed—if it even had any. Another disemboweled Mike, unintentionally inviting several others to mooch off the uncoiling spoils. He’d looked up from the alley’s floor and seen Ellen perched at her windowsill, eyes like saucers swimming in roomy sockets. The ones with enough foresight to reseal the entranceway usually didn’t make it ten feet from their homes before the horde picked them clean. We know we’re gonna die if we don’t eat, but I figure so will they, eventually. I’d like to set my feet down on pavement again, even if ain’t exactly gonna be tiptoeing through tulips.” “Me too.” “It’s a waiting game and nobody knows how it’s gonna play out, but play out it will. If he had any balls he’d have hurried the process up. Because as lousy as this life was, this was all you got. Except these days it wasn’t, so death had lost some of its appeal. Today, much like the day before, and the day before, and the day before that. Even the ache in Abe’s empty belly had quieted to a dull numbness. With some effort, Abe opened the window, leaned his head out a little, worked up some glutinous saliva and spat into the mindless crowd directly beneath his fifth-floor dwelling. He’d stopped changing clothes on a daily basis weeks ago. He’d stopped bathing before that, except to wipe a damp sponge in a desultory manner under his pits and over his balls and ass. Of answering that question.” “Then what’s the point of asking it every day? Exactly so.” “I hate talking to you when your eyes are closed,” Ruth complained. Those who believed in Christ as their personal savior were invited to eat the bread and drink the juice that was dispensed. Though Karl didn’t miss that old-time religion, he could go for some of that body and blood right about now.
Mixed in with the usual filth in the gathered curbside snowdrifts was a new hue: deep red, and plenty of it, like big, bloody snow cones. ” He pounded a few times, rattling the pebbled glass with Bender’s name and logo painted upon it. Abe raised a hand to his mouth and then lowered it, realizing he was going to neither scream nor throw up. Lost it.” With the rhyming game over, Karl rolled over on his side; the mattress where he’d been lying was damp with perspiration. Karl stared at the wall, or at least in the direction of the wall. He was just thinking about the them that constituted the others in the building. All the windows of apartment 5B were open but you’d never know it, the air was so still it felt like a vacuum. He’d lit the wick, basked for a moment in the delicious bouquet, and then puked from a crushing whiff of the ceaseless alfresco parade of putrescence. In the light Karl could make out the trappings of his bedroom. When things had been different he’d been discreet and kept these pix salted away in a private place, but now? Karl got up from the bed and shuffled over to the wall. Consequently, his massive cache of videos in which she’d appeared became anathema to his libido. An inarticulate screech was the only sound she could manage as her husband fell out the window. She didn’t want to look, but desire was not a factor. A shriek echoed through the alley as they tore into Mike, picking the meager flesh off his bones with those horrible teeth, digging their jagged nails in, peeling him. Bestial growls accompanied the feeding frenzy, the things poking at each other, scrabbling, circling like hyenas. That was so Mike of him, always trying to protect her feelings, even now. One did get as far as the entrance to the supermarket, and even managed to detach the moldering sheet metal, but the doors had been automatic. He’d pounded on them as much in exasperated fury and disbelief as in attempt to actually infiltrate the emporium. He’d arranged his frail, emaciated body into a semblance of comfort in the threadbare upholstered chair, parted the dingy chintz curtains, opened the dusty venetian blinds and took his position as eyewitness to nothing. He’d actually welcome the sharpness of the hunger pangs, but you can get used to anything. The thick, pasty blob plopped onto one thing’s noggin and the schmuck didn’t even have the decency to notice, to become outraged or even annoyed. Abe sighed with resignation and eased back from the window, repositioning himself in his seat. “This is what passes for entertainment in this hollow semblance of a world. But to see Ruth in the same situation was intolerable. She had been vain, back when vanity wasn’t such a futile pursuit. “I hate talking to you when my eyes are open.” Weeks ago that rejoinder might have brought tears to Ruth’s eyes, but she knew what Abe meant, and if she had any more tears to cry she still might shed a few, but she was dry as the Sahara. One of those mini-SUVs, only he couldn’t hear the roar of an engine over the wet thud of rickety bodies jouncing off its hard surfaces. Abe wanted to shout to its pilot but there was no point; that machine wasn’t stopping for anything.
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