The First

Chapter 32

On a knee-high table in the center of the room she'd changed in, a small box caught Savanna's eye. She picked it up, shook it, and the television in front of her switched on. It's a remote control box.

A woman spoke and a picture of one of the infant males appeared behind her. The young one sat on the body of his host. Flesh dangled from his mouth.

"One of the creatures has been spotted roaming the streets of Hillsboro. Authorities ask that you find a safe place to hide. Lock all of your doors, get to a basement or closet as soon as possible. Do not try and engage these creatures. They are nearly impervious to conventional weapons and..."

Humans could try to hide. But their beacons of life drew her kind to them like fish to water. Those surrounding the house glowed bright, smelled delicious, and made a lot of noise. Why hadn't they attacked? She focused on the beating of their hearts. They weren't normal.

Fear.

If they attacked, she'd destroy them without hesitation. Those men knew she would. Their smell permeated her entire body, reminding her of what she needed to survive. The need for sustenance gnawed at her innards. She hadn't eaten in some time and felt drained from the change.

Food wasn't the matter at hand. Each second, more of the chosen entered this world. Their numbers doubled by the minute. She felt them; not only the two males in the vicinity but twelve others heading her way. The gathering had commenced. She didn't know why finding the others had become so important, only that it needed to be done.

A powerful agonized cry ripped through her mind. One of her males needed help. Through the master bedroom window, she crawled onto the roof and assessed the situation. Fifteen fully armed men stood in pairs, except for one. He leaned against a fence, his weapon on the ground in front of him. A lit cigarette dangled from his lips as he flicked his fingers against his phone.

Her trajectory would put her many yards from him where she could head straight for the distressed male. But the hunk of meat which pulsed within his chest called to her. Each throb sent a vibrant glow of electricity through the vessels in his body. She ran barefooted across the edge of the roof and jumped. No longer did she care about stealth. No longer did she care about the clothes on her back. No longer did she care about the feelings of the humans as she had with the father and daughter earlier. The hunger won.

Hunger always won.

Splinters of wood scattered across the lawn as she burst through the fence, landing on the officer. Several jagged stakes of wood protruded through his flak vest. He struggled beneath her. This time, she wanted to see the torture on his face. She scraped her nails down his sides, just deep enough to scratch through his clothes and reveal his hair-covered barreled chest. His eyes went wide with fear under the clear visor of the helmet he wore.

Power over the human filled her with joy. She inserted the nails of her right hand into his chest. Blood seeped around her fingers as she dug through skin, cartilage, and bone. The man gritted his teeth and grunted, but didn't give her the scream she longed for. With her left hand, she tore the visor from his helmet. His eyes glared with contempt. She tapped his wide-open right eye. The blue-green orb exploded like a popped water balloon. Fluid Gushed down his cheek and the scream he'd withheld before came out loud and clear. His mouth quivered. Blood trickled from the sides. Satisfied, she leaned down and lapped at the fluid on his cheek as she tore his heart out.

Machinegun fire drowned out his screams. Lights from tracer rounds beamed through the night and bullets riddled her back. The force pushed her off of her prey, his heart still clutched in her hand. She crouched and leaped into the air. The rattle of guns behind continued while she sailed over the nearest house and landed in the driveway.

Savannah crept behind a car and bit into the heart. Warm fluid exploded down her throat, strength flowed into her body. She tore off a hunk of cardiac muscle, and let it slide down the back of her throat. The meal re-energized her. Small holes in her skin healed and bruises from the bullets disappeared.

Footsteps pounded the pavement behind her. Satiated for the moment, she let the half-eaten heart slap to the ground. She sprang to her feet and sprinted down the sidewalk, hurdling trash cans, children's toys, and a couple of parked cars. The men became a distant memory as the call of the male turned her northwest.