Chapter Thirty-Four

Things around town were strange. The leadership had disappeared and information was at a stand still. The towns’ people remained clear of the forest but with no one to guide them, they were unsure what to do next.

No one wanted to say it but everyone was beginning to feel it. Life as they had come to know it felt as though it was drawing to a close.

Special Handling was still functioning as Clint Littleford was continuing to oversee daily operations. With inhabitants on the decline, Clint had instituted immediate rationing. Families in New Haven were now only permitted to make one withdraw for the entire month. Individuals were forced to take limbs only, and that too, was only once a month. The breeding program was still a good month away from producing food which highlighted another problem. Clint was beginning to see that food was declining faster than they could replenish it and that meant drastic measures would have to be taken.

He had seventy-five males in the breeding program and he realized that he could reduce that number to zero if he milked the men and froze the sperm. The men were getting a free ride of nine months with little involvement in the breeding process. Freeing up the seventy-five, even with the new restrictions in place, would feed New Haven for less than a month.

The writing was on the wall. Their appetite was larger than their food stores and Clint was secretly preparing for his own well-being. He was solely responsible for records of the detainees which gave him an opportunity to forge the books from time to time.

One prisoner died of natural causes, meat spoiled.

Ten prisoners crushed in a rock fall, meat lost.

Two prisoners died from cannibalism, meat consumed.

In all Clint had shuffled more than a hundred specimens from Sector A of the mine into a special area in Sector C he had secretly reopened. It was his private stash that even his own security personnel weren’t aware of.

Elsewhere in New Haven, unease was building in all areas of life. There were no rumors of a food shortage. Every man, woman and child knew that New Haven was actively working on replenishing sources of food. The dirty little secret of the town that most everyone shared in was every resident was eating more than their fair share.

The New Haven bowling league had taken a trip to the neighboring county to shop for new shoes and bowling balls. The trip was the first out of New Haven since being blessed and being surrounded by so many humans became a distraction for them. On the drive home, literally drenched in sweat, the team captain suggested they find some food. No one argued, and everyone gave in. A short time later they came across two young boys on bikes and the rest was left to history.

Terri Bailey—Bonner—had been volunteering at the homeless shelter and even she had a hard time being honest with her fellow citizens. For every three shelter seekers that arrived, only two would make it to Special Handling. Clint would then siphon off one more for his personal stock pile.

Down at the Pump and Save gas station Billy Davenport and Big Mac were marking travelers for their own use. Single drivers paying cash were tagged and bagged after they would leave. Either Ron or Billy would chase the food down in the tow truck and get the driver to stop on an isolated part of the road. Once they had them stopped, they would go to lunch. Making the vehicles disappear was no hardship for these two. They’d take the car back to the shop and have it chopped up by day’s end.

The story was being repeated all over New Haven. Selfishness was spreading like a disease.

* * * *

“Tara, why aren’t you in the mayor’s seat?” Slade asked as he puffed a plume of smoke from his nose like a dragon.

“I am in the mayor’s seat,” she said, reclining in her old chair with a big grin.

“You know what I mean,” Slade said deep and serious. “You just let him push you out of your rightful role—why?”

“This may be hard for you to understand. I wasn’t selected to be blessed,” Tara informed. “I lived in the mine with the others. Darwin made me as a matter of convenience. He needed me to convince the others that the situation was over so they would let us pass to the emergency exit. I would never have complied if he hadn’t forced this life into me. He killed my children, why would I help him? He was smart though; he forced me to eat my husband no less. I couldn’t control it and I didn’t want to,” she told without emotion.

“Don’t you hold any ill will towards him?” Slade asked.

“He got me out of the mine and he gave me a new life. Do I miss my children?” she asked, embarrassed to admit the answer. “All I think about is my next meal and how that will make me feel. When I eat, I don’t think about my old life and I feel good. What I was, doesn’t matter, Darwin can have the job.”

Slade crushed his smoke in a crystal dish on the desk before he sparked up his next stick. The room was already hazy from the continuous emission of carcinogens over the previous hour. Tara wasn’t a smoker, but it reminded her of her grandfather and she welcomed the smell.

“What about you, Mister Slade?” she asked her smoking man who was sizing her up. “How do you see yourself fitting into New Haven?”

He sniggered with the smoke in his trademark spot. Feeling comfortable, he kicked off his shoes and placed his feet on the desk and leaned into the chair. “Tara, just call me D, would you please?”

“D, how mysterious!” she toyed.

“I don’t see myself staying in New Haven for long. Long enough to see what happens at the gate and Se Venire, but that’s about all. There’s nothing for me here,” he concluded.

“You could have family here; you could have me, if you want me, that is?” Tara said coming on to Slade as obvious as she could.

“Tara, I would love to have you. I can’t be with anyone. My touch, my blood, my seed, all of it’s poisonous. I’d kill you without even trying to. I’ll leave New Haven and keep looking for a new way to die. I’ve had enough of this world.”

“Dying should be easy, you don’t want to die; can’t we at least try to be together?” Tara entreated.

“My affliction is also my strength. Nothing that would kill you can kill me. Fire, that just hurts and silver just feels like any other metal. I’ve looked for more than a hundred years and I can’t find a way to die. Believe me when I say, my life has been nothing but hell,” Slade averred, finishing his smoke and moving on to the next one.

“I wonder if we could find a way to cure you, make you human again?” Tara suggested.

With his new cigarette ablaze Slade smiled, “My little pup, if it were only that easy. Thank you for caring though, it’s nice to have that even if it’s only for a little while.”

“Could we fuck if you wrapped?” Tara tossed her innocent school girl routine and went into full-on seductress mode.

Slade’s two hundred year confidence finally rattled. “I haven’t been with a woman in more than a century,” he mused.

Tara bolted from her chair and came around to the other side of the desk and sat herself on Slade’s lap, who seemed nervous but happy to have her. She quickly wiggled her butt with a grind, bringing the big Slade to life. Even through her clothes, she could feel he was hung and in need of attention.

“Tara,” he moaned, closing his eyes, unable to verbalize anything else.

Like a vampire starved for neck, Tara moved in and began licking his artery which made him purr. He was speechless and falling to her advances.

“I need you in me D. Give it to me!” Quickly she hopped off her man, grabbing his package firmly and pulling him in the direction of Darwin’s private room. “Cum with me, I know where he keeps his stash of condoms. We can double wrap if you’re worried.”

Slade smiled with a bit of drool running down his chin. He was primed and ready with a century of sexual tension brewing in his balls. He knew what a condom was but he’d never tried one. Being old meant a person had seen and done everything in life and new adventures were rare. For Slade, the idea of a condom was exciting. He had stayed away from them over the years because no matter how safe they were there was a chance of breakage. One too many exploding girlfriends during the 1800’s made him shy away from sex entirely.

“Why does a werewolf have condoms?” Slade asked like a nervous teenager.

“Darwin’s a prissy little fag, butt sex is dirty I guess,” Tara balked, now feeling moist and ready for action.

The two disappeared into the office bedroom and began to rewrite history by shaking Slade’s foundation. The earth moved so heavily that the Power of One fell from the wall breaking the protective glass.