The First

Chapter 22

Savannah stalked around the house for an easy way in. She stuck to the shadows in an attempt to hide her nakedness and herself. Of course, she could have burst through the front door and devoured the humans inside, but instinct told her differently. Instinct said to stay hidden, feed on them one at a time. This would be her best chance of getting away without them alerting others. They worked best when in groups and their weapons seemed to be getting stronger. The bullets that hit her leg had left bruises, the one in her side still bled, though she was sure it went straight through.

The voices inside didn't come from the occupants, but from the television set they sat in front of. A beam of light shot across the lawn from the cracked open back door, Savannah slipped inside.

A young male stood several feet in front of her, his mouth agape. "Mmmom!"

Savannah didn't want him alerting the others. Instinct and natural reflexes took over, and like a wild beast threatened, she attacked. She whizzed by the boy with her claws extended. The tissue in his neck tore as her nails slashed his throat.

Silenced, the boy slumped to the floor.

Blood from her fingertips tasted sweet as she lapped at them. Blood spurt from the boy and sprinkled the flower patterned wallpaper; a spring shower of death.

"Danny! Danny!" A woman ran past Savannah as if she didn't exist.

Crouched in a corner of the small entrance to the kitchen, like a discarded appliance, Savannah reached out and wrapped a clawed hand around the woman's ankle. Time stood still as the woman tried to stop from falling. She fell forward. Her head smashed against a small table. The right side of her face caved in. She coughed. Blood, sputum and several teeth spewed from her mouth as she gurgled and tried to scream.

Not wanting to risk others in the house hearing the woman's cries, Savannah stood and stomped on the woman's skull. It crumpled under the extreme pressure. A gasp turned her attention to the doorway where two more people stood. One, her same sex and height, the other, a large man, neither of them moved.

The girl grasped the man around the waist. "Daddy, it's one of them isn't it?"

"I ...I think so, honey. Let's back up, very slowly. No sudden moves. I heard they attack if you run, just like what we told you about big dogs."

"But it's only a girl. Is ...is mommy – dead?" She cried.

The man sniffled. "I'm afraid so honey."

Savannah understood their words and looked at the two family members she'd killed. For a brief moment, she felt their loss. Tears welled in her ebony eyes.

Hand-in-hand the father and daughter backed out. They didn't break eye contact with Savannah, who for the first time, felt sorrow for what she'd done.

The two exited the house through another door. Savannah wasn't there to eat. She came for one thing only, clothes to cover her nakedness. She searched through the rooms until she found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that fit her tiny frame. But just as she started to pull the t-shirt over her head, the itch began again.

Not again.

Tiny prickles jittered under the skin of her big toes and worked its way up her feet, into her ankles, legs, buttocks, back, head and face. A tear in her forehead skin started the process. She inched her fingers into the crevice parting her scalp and face. The skin peeled back, revealing a new epidermis. Her old hair and skin sloughed to her back like a morbid hoodie. She followed the tear down her chest and when she peeled the skin back, two large mounds of flesh peeked out of the new skin.

When the transformation completed, she stepped away from the dead skin and found a mirror in a nearby bathroom. The young girl's clothes would no longer fit. But the mother wasn't much larger. In a room adjacent to the kitchen she found four baskets full of clothing. She pulled on a black t-shirt and skirt.

Platinum-blonde hair slicked across her shoulders with the same clear salve as before and crinkled down to her waist. Full rose-red lips contrasted her eyes. The look startled her; so different from the warm colors of the human's eyes. She'd also seen her reflection in windows when her eyes glowed making the night into day.

More objects in the house took shapes and names. The television in the living room had a woman standing in front of a familiar area to Savannah, the river's edge where she had gotten away from the policemen.

"... and that's when the officers stopped following. Again, this is Sara Merchant from News Channel 12 coming to you live from a sighting of one of the infected children. We're attempting to get a statement from a Federal officer who pursued the child."

The camera panned to a man in a suit. Words at the top of the screen took form and Savannah understood them. Then she tried something she hadn't before. She opened her mouth and tried to mimic the humans. At first, a quick chirp escaped. When she focused, the chirp's turned into a long screech, which rang throughout the home. Once more she focused until the screech deepened into a low growl. Then the sounds came out. "Breaking news." She said and smiled at her cleverness. She didn't know how she knew how to read and speak. Maybe she had absorbed some of the meal's (now humans) thoughts.

A deep grumble came from her belly. She pulled up her shirt and looked at her flat, defined, abdomen. Again her tummy growled letting her know it needed sustenance. The urge had to be satiated or the pain would start. She didn't want to feel her insides seared again.

She scanned the house for a meal, wondering where the two she let go ran off to.

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