{"id":55,"date":"2017-10-06T00:00:37","date_gmt":"2017-10-06T05:00:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/stories.astoundingoutpost.com\/?p=55"},"modified":"2017-10-06T00:00:37","modified_gmt":"2017-10-06T05:00:37","slug":"apples","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/2017\/10\/06\/apples\/","title":{"rendered":"Apples"},"content":{"rendered":"

The girl with the spiral scar pressed the point of a modified steak knife under the chin of a plump teenage boy.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSay \u2018Zombie Apocalypse\u2019 again, you little turd, and I\u2019ll slice your balls off and make them into earrings.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The boy opened his mouth a quarter inch and whispered, \u201cMy dad says\u2014\u201d but shut it when the knife tip drew blood.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYour dad\u2019s bloated head is stuck up his bloated ass. Tell him that from one of the students he failed in Molecular Biology 303.\u201d She moved the knife and the boy sidled out of reach. \u201cGo try and steal from some idiot in the \u2019burbs. You\u2019re getting fuck-all from us.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Fat tears rolled down the boy\u2019s round cheeks. \u201cMy dad won\u2019t let me back in without beer and supplies.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The girl laughed. \u201cYou eat all the food on him? Tough luck.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A whine ratcheted the boy\u2019s voice higher than before. \u201cI have a condition.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, and it\u2019s called stupidity. Get out of here.\u201d She whistled the opening measure of \u201cDeck the Halls\u201d and two men appeared from behind an overflowing dumpster. <\/span><\/p>\n

The boy took one look at the guns in their hands and rabbited. The slap of his feet in unlaced sneakers echoed down the empty streets.<\/span><\/p>\n

The tall man with waist-length dreads pulled into a ponytail holstered his gun. \u201cWho\u2019s the asswipe, Holly?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSon of my old bio prof. Everything handed to him all his life.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

An older woman with long white braids came into the alley. \u201cHe\u2019s the one who should get tripped so the rest of us can escape.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly laughed. \u201cJoan, you\u2019re the best pack mother our band of Merry Men could want.\u201d She wiped the drops of blood from her knife tip on her jeans. \u201cWho else is hungry?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Whispers of \u201cWe are,\u201d and \u201cI am,\u201d came from behind the broken windows. <\/span><\/p>\n

Holly looked up at the dirty brick walls. \u201cThink of sugarplums and candy canes, you guys. We\u2019ll be back as soon as we can.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory stepped to her side. \u201cYou think it\u2019s Christmas?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly shrugged. \u201cNah. Not cold enough. The idea keeps them distracted.\u201d She sheathed her knife. \u201cI want to see if David\u2019s hidden cellar is still ours for the picking.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The mismatched pair\u2014she stood nearly six feet tall, his head barely topped her shoulder\u2014stopped at the end of the alley. Each scanned one side of the empty street, searching for any Squatter activity. Holly remembered when the Merry Men\u2019s territory had been known as Georgetown, back when she\u2019d been studying for her Master\u2019s Degree in Biophysics. Back when Rory split his time between street magic and training for the Olympics. Back before some extremist fuckhead heard about NASA\u2019s wormhole experiment and decided it was the perfect vehicle to nuke all the Enemies of His God.<\/span><\/p>\n

The night the experiment went live the fuckhead drove a Hummer through the gates and blew his nuke. The wormhole connection sucked in the blast exactly like a giant vacuum cleaner. When nothing else happened, not even shockwaves or fallout, everyone said the world dodged a bullet. The Christians blamed the Muslims, the Muslims blamed the Christians, the talking heads on the 24-hour news channels blamed the Chinese and the Russians and the Taliban and everybody else currently on their shit list. <\/span><\/p>\n

Until one-thirty four that afternoon when NASA exploded. Fifteen seconds later, the first Leechface stepped out of the new, improved wormhole in a confetti shower of human and concrete debris. Holly remembered that bit because TV and radio broadcasts hadn\u2019t shut down yet and people always seemed to record everything on their phones back then.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory touched her arm and she shook herself back to the present.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhen I can\u2019t sleep I wonder sometimes how many wormholes the Leechfaces opened,\u201d she said with an apologetic smile.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIn technical terms? Enough to bugger us good,\u201d Rory said. \u201cI used to game\u2014play online video games. Every single one of us had seen a Leechface wormhole in his own country.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFuck me. Sorry about the derail. I\u2019ll get my head back in the game.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory cuffed her lightly on the back of her tangled brown hair. \u201cIf anything smelled the spineless asswipe, they appear to have followed him away from our place.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo he is good for something. Daddy\u2019ll be so proud.\u201d She turned to the right.<\/span><\/p>\n

He watched her out of the corner of one eye as they walked the debris-strewn sidewalks, his other eye, and both of hers, constantly searched for Squatter signs. She touched the whorls of the red-brown scar that disfigured her entire right cheek, but her body language remained alert. After two years hunting with her, he knew better than to remind her of that Leechface brand. <\/span><\/p>\n

Searching for a distraction, Rory touched the hollow gold collar beneath his football jersey. Perfect. \u201cI\u2019ve gotta get a new shirt.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly punched him. \u201cYou say that every time we go out for supplies. Squatters don\u2019t know from football. They only see meat on two legs.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCall me superstitious.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou think a Squatter\u2019s synapses are still firing hard enough to remember back three years when all good residents of DC automatically hated the Cowboys? They can\u2019t ever remember to\u2014\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

They flattened themselves against the nearest brownstone. She closed her eyes and he stopped breathing. <\/span><\/p>\n

Holly pursed her lips like she was about to whistle, but no sound audible to Rory\u2019s ears came out. <\/span><\/p>\n

A Squatter plodded out of a doorway. It had been a teenage girl. Its short plaid skirt dragged off one hip and its glitter-covered sweater was a mess of holes and blood and filth. It didn\u2019t even look in their direction.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSee? Minimal brain activity.\u201d Holly murmured in Rory\u2019s ear. \u201cEven my mom\u2019s yappy inbred poodle knew enough to search for the human calling it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She stepped away from the wall, balancing on the balls of her feet. Rory followed. They hurried in the shambler\u2019s wake until its stench enveloped them. Rory always regretted the need to breathe at this point. With a single movement he pulled the Claddagh collar out of his shirt and opened the hinged crown.<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly grabbed the Squatter by the throat and stabbed her knife up and in, piercing its brain stem. Its body collapsed against her, eyes wide open for the first time in six or eight months, judging by the Reek Gauge. <\/span><\/p>\n

Rory put his lips on the Squatter\u2019s lips\u2014rotting teeth stank like shit\u2014and pulled away. A trail of shimmering pink mist followed. He inhaled with all the power of his NCAA-champion swimmer\u2019s lungs until he\u2019d taken in every molecule of the mist. With an exaggerated gesture, he closed the Claddagh\u2019s crown and settled the collar around his neck.<\/span><\/p>\n

All the visible skin on the Squatter\u2019s body bubbled and sloughed away. Holly set the body on the sidewalk and grabbed Rory before he collapsed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory cursed in three different languages. \u201cThey killed her sister first. Then they killed her and put her spirit in her sister\u2019s body.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly cursed too. \u201cYou gotta teach me to swear better. Plain old English doesn\u2019t cut it anymore.\u201d She stroked her fingers across Rory\u2019s forehead. \u201cClose your eyes and talk to her, dummy. You know they calm down faster that way.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNag.\u201d Rory smiled as he obeyed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly\u2019s fingers kept their soothing rhythm on his forehead. His face relaxed. She wondered, like she always did, how he talked to the spirits he rescued from the Squatters. He kept the details to himself. The only snippet he\u2019d ever given her involved the collar. He didn\u2019t need it, but tangible act of opening the old Irish symbol for love and loyalty and friendship and then closing it when the spirit was completely inside him made the freaked-out spirits feel safe. <\/span><\/p>\n

Her spiral scar burned in her memory as she kept her fingers moving. She understood freaking out and the need for a symbol of protection. Hell, if she\u2019d been soul-raped and stuffed inside a dead body to Squat until her energy couldn\u2019t hold the body together anymore, she\u2019d grab at anything that reminded her of the pre-Leechface world. Hanging onto the meaning of an old piece of jewelry? Whatever kept these poor bastards clinging to Rory until he could get them back where they belonged.<\/span><\/p>\n

At least she\u2019d escaped Bobblehead Leechface before the worst happened.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory opened his eyes. She helped him to his feet.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAll set? Is she still herself?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cEnough to tell me where she thinks her body is.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow far?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOver on Reservoir Road.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly wanted to run, but Rory couldn\u2019t keep up, not carrying a rescue. Fifteen blocks later she hustled him up cracked cement steps and hacked through the curtain of leafy green kudzu covering the door. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCellar,\u201d Rory said. <\/span><\/p>\n

They navigated gritty stairs, the outside light dimming at each step. Holly shoved the door open far enough to get them both inside. The cool air smelled stuffy. Holly allowed herself to hope.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShe says they left her in their storage unit.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Holly walked Rory along the row of partitioned spaces filled with broken plates, ripped boxes, and dented appliances until he held up a wide brown hand. \u201cThis one.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

As she dragged open its bent door made of chain-link fencing and one-by-twos the hinged piece of wood snapped in half. The fencing slapped against the adjacent door. Holly grabbed the metal after a single <\/span>clang<\/span><\/i> and stilled it. When no other noises reached them after two minutes, they both exhaled.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory leaned against a dusty washing machine while Holly moved boxes. The smell hit them both at the same instant. The light wasn\u2019t strong enough to see the body\u2019s condition, so Holly knelt on the cement and touched its arm. The skin was loose, but not slimy. The phrase \u2018dry desquamation\u2019 popped into her head from a forgotten college class. <\/span><\/p>\n

Holly helped Rory kneel next to the body. \u201cShe\u2019s good enough. I didn\u2019t check the eyes or the mouth.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDoesn\u2019t matter.\u201d He touched its face until he found the mouth. The lips had pulled away from the teeth and maggots writhed in the tongue. The timbreless voice inside him projected the word \u201cSorry\u201d into his mind. He pressed his open mouth to the corpse\u2019s, ignored the tickle of a maggot on his lips, and exhaled. The glowing pink mist flowed into the mouth. A maggot wriggled out and fell to the floor, pinkish in the fragile light. <\/span><\/p>\n

Holly studied Rory\u2019s face, the mist giving his brown skin a much healthier look than anyone had these days. She told herself she did it to watch for signs he was going to pass out. That was the truth, dammit. Using his magic sucked the life out of him.<\/span><\/p>\n

The dead girl\u2019s body sucked in the last puff of mist on its own. Holly dived to the floor and caught Rory as he fell away from the not-corpse-anymore.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWake up.\u201d She slapped his cheeks. \u201cWake up, wake up. Don\u2019t you die on me too. Wake up.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOw.\u201d His voice was weak, but nothing worse.<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly kissed him so hard their teeth banged together. The not-corpse coughed maggots all over them. Holly brushed them off. \u201cYou gotta teach me more curses.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Hoarse sounds came from the not-corpse\u2019s throat. Holly covered their faces right before another cough sprayed maggots on them. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>H-hgk<\/span><\/i> you.\u201d It didn\u2019t sound like a teenage girl, but any sound at all from that mouth was a minor miracle. The body reverted to its six months\u2019 dead state as soon as the last syllable came through, and insta-rot took it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly heaved Rory vertical and dragged him into the main cellar before they blew chunks from the stench. <\/span><\/p>\n

She laughed. \u201cGot no chunks to blow.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory\u2019s head turned to her, but he laughed a second later. \u201cLet\u2019s go cellar diving. I want a can of Spaghetti-Os.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She dragged him up and out to the front steps and they sat on the kudzu as the weak sunlight peaked to noon.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory spat into the ivy. \u201cMaggots are not tasty. Remember Listerine? I could use a whole gallon right now.\u201d He leaned against the door. \u201cI wish we could find them when they\u2019re fresher.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly leaned next to him. What the hell had she been thinking? She\u2019d kept it to herself for two years, for Chrissake. She had five other adults and three kids to feed and protect. All her time was devoted to that. Period.<\/span><\/p>\n

She pushed a hand through several layers of dead leaves and found a narrow line of real grass growing against the side of the steps. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHere.\u201d She handed him a fistful. \u201cIt\u2019s not as good as parsley, but chewing it will clear some of the taste.\u201d She popped a bunch into her own mouth and bit down.<\/span><\/p>\n

He imitated her. He could barely remember what parsley tasted like, but this wasn\u2019t it. Not bad in a pinch, though. When she spat out a gob of green cud he cleared his own mouth and tested his breath against his hand. It\u2019d have to do. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d He touched her shoulder. When she turned her face to his, a shred of grass clinging to her full bottom lip, he kissed her.<\/span><\/p>\n

She didn\u2019t pull away. That thought shone through all the sensations crowding into him: Her soft lips moving against his, her breasts meeting his pecs, the feel of her tangled hair when he pushed his fingers into it and pulled her closer. Two years of wanting her and doing nothing about it because protecting the Merry Men came first.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou taste like grass,\u201d she murmured. \u201cThat\u2019s not how I imagined it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMe neither.\u201d He pulled her into his lap.<\/span><\/p>\n

She nibbled his ear. \u201cThink there\u2019s an unbroken bed in one of the rooms above David\u2019s cellar?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIf it\u2019s broken, we\u2019ll drag the mattress onto the floor.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve wanted you for two years.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSame here. We must be the last workaholics in D.C.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She laughed. He kissed her again, loving her voice, her smile, and how he could make her laugh.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCome on.\u201d She slid off him and stood. \u201cIf that cellar doesn\u2019t have Spaghetti-Os, I\u2019ll scour every house on the block until I find some for you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

They smelled the cellar from four houses away. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDamn. It\u2019s stronger.\u201d Holly covered her mouth and nose with one hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory did the same. \u201cOne of the skunks must have died.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMy grandmother would call that a mixed blessing. At least it\u2019ll keep everything living, dead, or Squatting away from our stash.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The skunk odor hit them worse than insta-rot when they opened the back door. Coughing and eyes watering, Rory set one foot on the stairs to the second floor and the wood shattered beneath his boot. He grabbed the banister and that shattered too. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTermites,\u201d Holly said through a cough.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCock-blocking insect bastards,\u201d Rory took her arm. \u201cLet\u2019s just get supplies this time and get back to the Men.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

She kept hold of his left arm as he stepped on the first wooden cellar tread. It creaked but held. He gave her a thumbs-up and stepped down. She followed. The next-to last stair snapped in half when they both set their feet on it together, but they jumped onto the packed-dirt floor with ease.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMy lungs are threatening to pack up and leave,\u201d Holly said, already at one of the two remaining full shelves. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cShould\u2019ve been a swimmer like me. Ninety seconds of breath holding in three\u2026 two\u2026 one.\u201d Rory handed her a plastic bag and they loaded themselves with canned peaches, applesauce, potato salad, and three kinds of beans. Rory knelt on the dirt to look through the bottom shelves and Holly stood on tiptoe to scan the top ones.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes!\u201d Rory stood with two cans in each hand, a spoon piled with circles of macaroni still discernible on their faded red labels.<\/span><\/p>\n

They didn\u2019t stop running until they were half a mile away. Panting, they cleared their noses and lungs with the usual city smells of dust and out-of control vegetation. This time of year they got dead leaves and\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI smell apples,\u201d Holly walked around a detached house and kicked in the door of a privacy fence. \u201cHoly shit, we\u2019ve hit the mother lode.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A dwarf apple tree rose above a tangle of grass and blueberry bushes gone wild. The berries were withered but the apple tree\u2019s branches bent under the weight of the fruit.<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly stomped the bushes flat and reached for the nearest apple. Rory dragged her back.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWasps.\u201d He pointed to an apple several inches to the right of his foot. As they watched, three wasps staggered from a hole in its side. One tried to fly in a jerky, confused pattern, and fell back to the grass. \u201cThey look drunk.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThey are. My aunt had apple trees in her backyard. One really warm fall the fruit got too ripe. Wasps used at least a quarter of the apples as their personal liquor cabinet.\u201d She stripped off her shirt and stepped around the fallen apples scattered in the grass. \u201cJust don\u2019t piss \u2019em off.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

They gathered as many as they could reach and loaded them into the improvised shirt sack. Her undershirt covered her chest so she didn\u2019t tease poor Rory. <\/span><\/p>\n

That didn\u2019t stop Rory from staring at her. \u201cLet\u2019s go. The Merry Men Apartments must have a private room with a mattress.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

They shared an apple as they walked. Holly thought it might be a Macintosh, but three years without pruning or fertilizing had sent the tree back toward its wild days. The aroma and tart juiciness filled her nose and mouth with decadent pleasure.<\/span><\/p>\n

They dropped the bags of food when they reached their alley. Even then it took several long seconds for the smells of warm blood and offal to cut through the appleness.<\/span><\/p>\n

One of the kids hung halfway out of the dumpster. Sasha. Holly recognized her from the Hello Kitty shirt because Sasha didn\u2019t have a face any more. Robbie, the adult who scavenged train sets for the kids to play with, lay naked in the right-hand doorway, spiral burns decorating one side of his body, stars still oozing blood carved into the other side. <\/span><\/p>\n

She walked deeper into the alley. Her boots squelched but she didn\u2019t look down. She needed Joan. Their den mother would have protected as many as she could. Holly almost pitied the Leechface who took on Joan.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory ran past her and tried to open the door, but it was jammed. Holly stepped on the closed half of the dumpster and hooked her fingers onto the window ledge. Rory gave her a boost and she climbed through the glassless window frame into the twins\u2019 room. Blood everywhere. Down the stairs through more blood with small drenched shapes in it. Scattered teeth. An ear. A finger.<\/span><\/p>\n

Joan Squatted against the door. Holly heard little whimpering sounds. No living human sat in that specific posture, but Squatters didn\u2019t make noise. Then who\u2026 Holly pushed her hand over her own mouth and the noises stopped.<\/span><\/p>\n

She tiptoed up behind Joan and gave her a small nudge in the back. Joan stood up, more or less, and shuffled in the direction of the nudge. Holly opened the door. <\/span><\/p>\n

Rory stopped himself from gagging at the blood-saturated air when he saw the tears streaking Holly\u2019s face. He followed her gaze and saw the Squatter. Joan. <\/span><\/p>\n

Holly took out her knife. He pulled out the Claddagh collar and opened the crown. Holly clapped her left hand over the Squatter\u2019s mouth, jammed her knife into its brain stem, and pulled its limp body down on top of her own. Rory clutched its head in his hands and covered its mouth with his.<\/span><\/p>\n

Joan\u2019s spirit sparkled pale green like sun glinting on new leaves. It lit the tears on Rory\u2019s face\u2014at least Holly thought it did, because her own tears blurred her vision into uselessness.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rory clicked the collar shut. He cleared his throat. \u201cShe says\u2014\u201d He swallowed and cleared his throat again. \u201cShe says the twins are\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He stopped because Holly made a gagging sort of scream and her blurry shape disappeared. He clawed the tears out of his eyes. A Leechface held Holly by her hair a foot off the ground and was licking its barbed tongue around the whorls of the scar on her face.<\/span><\/p>\n

Joan\u2019s wail inside Rory mingled with his incoherent roar as he slammed into the Leechface\u2019s scaled legs. It made that brittle nails-on-chalkboard sound that passed for a laugh. Holly kicked and clawed until it unfurled its five suckers and wrapped two around her. Rory dug his fingers into the lower sucker arm and used his elbows for leverage to pry it off. A second later the other three suckers pinned him to the floor.<\/span><\/p>\n

Three years into their invasion, Leechfaces still hadn\u2019t bothered to learn the language. This one projected images into Holly\u2019s mind: Of her terrified face twenty-three months ago, the first time it captured her. Of her agony as it branded her with its litter\u2019s symbol. Of its relish at its drawn-out ways of killing one of her species in the proper way for the body to host a Squatter. Of the bets they placed on whose Squatter would last the longest. Last, of the revenge it had been planning ever since she escaped.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cEat shit and die, you fucker! Why don\u2019t you fight me if you want revenge so bad?\u201d Holly forced herself not to puke from terror. \u201cWhat kind of conquering Leechface doesn\u2019t like a fair fight?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHolly, don\u2019t provoke it.\u201d Rory\u2019s deep voice came out thinner than it ought to, what with a sucker squeezing his chest and Joan\u2019s spirit crowding his own.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m going to piss it off so it lets you go to wrap all these sucker arms around me and you\u2019re going to get the hell out of here.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not leaving you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The Leechface projected humor into her head: Its opinion of \u201clove.\u201d Its tongue rolled over her face as it\u2019s mind planted images of pleasure at her fear-sweat. Its tongue cut diagonally across her lips. She opened them and bit two barbs off at the roots.<\/span><\/p>\n

It made a worse noise, like microphone feedback mixed with a dentist\u2019s drill. Its tongue dripped gray-green fluid where the barbs used to be. Its hate and revenge exploded into her head as it slammed its two-foot long tongue halfway down her esophagus.<\/span><\/p>\n

Holly gagged and choked and tried to scream as the tongue withdrew with shreds of her larynx impaled on it. Burning agony ripped through her. Over it she thought she heard Rory\u2019s voice. The Leechface clamped a sucker on her head and bent her neck down so she could see Rory. Her blood splattered his handsome face. <\/span><\/p>\n

Then the Leechface planted suckers on Rory and <\/span>ripped.<\/span><\/i> Holly screamed his name with her voiceless mouth. The suckers came away stuffed with flesh and blood and nails and eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

And dragging two glimmering streams of color: Joan\u2019s new-leaf green and the red-orange of the heart of a bonfire. The Leechface flung Joan\u2019s spirit to the floor where it frayed and vanished. It yanked Holly\u2019s head back and its puckered-tentacle rimmed mouth smiled. It raised the dripping sucker and shoved Rory\u2019s spirit through her face and into her own. Her mouth stayed open but her useless throat couldn\u2019t release their mangled howl.<\/span><\/p>\n

The Leechface dropped her onto the curling linoleum. Her broken, shredded body Squatted where it fell. The Leechface settled on the floor in front of her, opened its mouth, and began to eat.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

END.<\/span><\/p>\n

by Kate Morgan<\/span><\/p>\n

Bio: <\/span>Baker of brownies and tormenter of characters, Kate Morgan grew up watching Hammer horror films and Scooby-Doo mysteries, which explains a whole lot. When she’s not inspiring nightmares in short and long fiction, her alter-ego Alice Loweecey is creating trouble for her sleuth Giulia Driscoll<\/a>. If she’s not exploring the darkest parts of the human soul, she can be found growing her own vegetables (in summer) and cooking with them (the rest of the year).<\/span><\/p>\n

Twitter: @KateMorganBooks<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Facebook: <\/span>https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/KateMorganHorror\/<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n

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The girl with the spiral scar pressed the point of a modified steak knife under the chin of a plump teenage boy. \u201cSay \u2018Zombie Apocalypse\u2019 again, you little turd, and I\u2019ll slice your balls off and make them into earrings.\u201d The boy opened his mouth a quarter inch and whispered, \u201cMy dad says\u2014\u201d but shut…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_kad_post_transparent":"","_kad_post_title":"","_kad_post_layout":"","_kad_post_sidebar_id":"","_kad_post_content_style":"","_kad_post_vertical_padding":"","_kad_post_feature":"","_kad_post_feature_position":"","_kad_post_header":false,"_kad_post_footer":false,"_kad_post_classname":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[9,2,8],"tags":[54,97,100,101,104],"class_list":["post-55","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-archives","category-astounding-stories","category-zombie-tales","tag-living-dead","tag-zombie","tag-zombie-short-stories-walking-dead","tag-zombie-stories","tag-zombies"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=55"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=55"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=55"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=55"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}