Retreating, I watched in shock as he picked himself up off the ground. He was strong, too strong. I was under the impression that most cannibals were weak; apparently, I had been misinformed.
He used the wall and steadied himself, then turned to me sneering, as he charged. I ducked again but this time he caught on and slapped the machete out of my hand. The machete cut into his palm and it sprayed all over my face, blinding me.
Squinting, I turned to my side, blinking several times. The blood that touched my pupils made my eyes sting and tears dripped on to the floor. Before I could react, the cannibal hovered above me, his large, calloused hand outstretched, going straight for my neck.
I tried moving away but he was quick. He clasped his hand around my neck and choke slammed me into the ground. My arms were flailing, my mid-section squirming, and I kicked my legs upward, hitting him repeatedly in the back. He kept me pinned hard to the ground, and I blanched as some of his spit drizzled on to my face.
Thrusting my hips, I tried to move him, even the slightest bit, to give myself some leeway, but he was heavy. Way too heavy. He had to be two hundred and fifty pounds at least. The crimson red blood from his palm flowed on to my shirt and it reeked.
He lifted his arms over his head and reached for the machete. His body odor filled my nostrils and I started gagging. I turned my head to the side and saw the shadow of the machete against the dirt wall. I was going to die. I fought and ultimately lost, and this was the end of the road for me.
Closing my eyes, I thought about Frankie, my parents, and Owen. I thought about everything I’d done in my life and how I had no regrets. For the first fourteen years of my life, I’d fully lived, and for the last two, I lived restricted. Even living restricted was a gift. There I was living, eating, and breathing, while the rest of the world was plagued by The Great Famine.
And with those thoughts in mind, I exhaled slowly and prayed for a quick and merciful death.
Chapter 24: The War Rages On
It is nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold and see if there be any sorrow like unto my s
orrow. ~ Lamentations 1:11
“ARGHHHHH!” Another deep voice bounced off the walls. Then I felt something warm splatter across my face.I shrieked and swiped at the liquid, smearing it in.
My eyes shot open as Owen, his violet eyes filled with determination, lifted the baseball bat with the nail spikes out of the cannibal’s head. The burly, human flesh eater’s eyes rolled back into his skull, and he fell over to the side of me.
I gasped, breathless as I scrambled backwards. “Owen.”
He smiled weakly, eyes gleaming in the dim light. “I told you I’d come back for you.” He tucked the end of the bat under his arm. “Now, come on, we have to go.”
“Go,” I repeated, once I was on my feet. “Go where?”
He glanced at me solemnly. “To the untouched place.”
“Have you been there already? It’s true, then?”
“No, I haven’t been there yet,” he admitted. “I stopped to come back for you.”
“Is that where the Bakers are going?”
Owen eye’s circled the room. “No. Listen, I’ll explain everything on the way but we have to leave, right now!”
“I’m not going anywhere without my sister! And there are other survivors!” I pointed to the hatch above me. “I can’t just leave them.”
Owen shook his head and started for me. “I know you’re a thoughtful and caring person, and I admire that about you, but we can’t take the survivors with us. We can take your sister and that’s about it. There are more cannibals headed this way and if we don’t leave right now, we will all die.”
At that moment, Mr. Vickers, Mr. Martin, and Mr. Edwards stomped up the last ramp. They hunched over, sucking in air. Mr. Vickers lifted his head. “Are the women and children safe?”
I nodded to the hatch. “They are.” I stared at the three men before me. “Where’s Colin?”
Seconds later, Colin came sprinting up the ramp. “There are about four more that will be here any minute,”he yelled in between breaths.
Climbing the ladder quickly, I pounded on the hatch. “Open it! We have survivors!” The hatch door flung open as I climbed down the ladder. Then the remaining surviving men climbed up the ladder and were greeted by their sobbing wives and children. Cries of joy, mixed with cries of pain, rumbled throughout the entire room. Aside from my parents, even more people had died. Dylan Edwards, a boy my age, had met his demise by the same cannibal who tried to kill me. His mother’s shrieks of agony, carried down the ladder and stabbed me right in the heart.
Owen touched my arm. “We have to go, now!”
I faced Colin. “Can you get me Frankie please?”
Colin raced up the ladder and a minute later came back down with Frankie in his arms. “Where are you going?” he asked.