Monster Island(8)



“Dekalb,” Osman said softly. “Dekalb. We can’t go through. There’s no way through.”

I stared north past the raft of corpses. It stretched as far as I could see, well past theBrooklynBridge. He was right. I couldn’t quite see the UN from there but I was so close. It was right there. My chest started to heave, with sobbing tears maybe, or maybe I wanted to throw up, I couldn’t tell. The drugs, my only chance to see Sarah again, were right there but they might as well be a million miles away.

Yusuf got theArawelo turned around and headed back toward the bay while Osman and I tried to figure out what to do next.

David Wellington - Monster Island





Monster Island





Chapter Seven


Back in the freezer section of the little bodega, back in the darkGary finally found what he’d been looking for behind smooth clear glass. He took the box of hamburger patties up to the front and laid them out on the plastic counter by the display of disposable lighters and the lotto machine. They’d been cool to the touch in the freezer-completely thawed out and with a little fuzzy white mold on top but still good he thought. He contemplated different ways to cook them until he got up the nerve to just bite into one raw and take his chances.

His mouth flooded with saliva and he forced himself to chew, to savor the meat even though his eyes were watering up. The tension in his stomach, the crawling hunger, began to subside and he leaned on the counter with both hands. It had taken him all of the morning to find any scrap of meat at all. He’d wandered far afield from his apartment, north into theWestVillage. But at every butcher’s shop and grocery store he’d found only empty walk-in freezers and vacant meat hooks swaying on their chains. Clearly he wasn’t the first one to be drawn to where the meat used to be. For the last hour he’d been combing all the little neighborhood convenience stores and the back pantries of shoebox-sized diners and this was all he’d found. Judging by the way his stomach was relaxing and his hands had stopped shaking it was worth it.

He was devouring his second burger patty when he heard a noise behind him and he turned around to find he wasn’t alone. The first of the walking dead thatGary had ever seen up close, a big guy in a trucker cap and sideburns had stumbled into the store and knocked over a rack of slim-jims. The intruder’s head rolled on his thick neck and drool slid from his slack lower lip as he stared atGary with eyes that couldn’t quite seem to focus. He had the same dead veins and bluish pallorGary had seen in the mirror but his face was slack and loose, the skin hanging in folds at his jowls and neck. He was missing a big chunk out of his left thigh. His jeans were caked with clotted blood and as he slouched forward the leg bent underneath him all wrong, threatening to tumble the big guy right intoGary ’s chest.

Without a word the dead man lurched forward and his hands went out, grabbing at the meat on the counter. BeforeGary could stop him the big guy shoved one of the patties into his mouth and started reaching for another, the last of the four. Gary said “hey, come on, that’s mine” and grabbed the back of the guy’s flannel shirt to pull him away from the food but it was like trying to move a refrigerator. He tried to grab the guy’s arm and got swatted backward, knocking him into a display of clattering cans of Starkist tuna. Slowly the big guy turned to faceGary with those dull glassy eyes.Gary looked down and saw he still had part of a hamburger patty in his left hand.

The big guy’s jaw stretched wider as if he would swallowGary like a snake swallowing an egg. Still no sound came out of him, no sound at all. He took a wobbling step forward on his bad leg, nearly fell. Corrected himself. His hands came up in fists.

“No,”Gary said, scrabbling to get to his feet but slipping in the spill of cans, “get away from me.” The big guy kept coming. “Don’t you dare!”Gary shrieked, sounding absurd even to his own ears but it just came out. “Stop!”

The big guy stopped in mid-stride. The expression on his face changed from hungry anger to just plain confusion. He looked around for a minute andGary could feel the guy’s cold form looming over him, a dead shadow in the air ready to come down like a ton of bricks, to smash him, to pummel him into mush.

He just stood there, coming no closer.

“Fuck off and die!”Gary screamed, terrified.

Without a sound the big guy turned on his good heel and walked out of the bodega. He didn’t look back.

Garywatched him go then pulled himself back up to his feet. He was feeling shaky again. Almost nauseous. He finished the patty in his hand but it didn’t help as much as his first one had. The fight with the big guy had taken something out of him. He ran a hand through his hair, looked back at the freezer section. It was empty now. He bent down and gathered up all the slim-jims the big guy had knocked over. Those were meat too, he thought. Maybe they would help.

Wellington, David's Books