Less Than Human by Tim Meyer Page A

against the cage. Ben pressed against her, keeping one hand over her mouth, wrapping his other arm across her midsection, keeping control of her movements. Slowly, he separated her from the cage. She tried to wiggle free, but Ben was stronger. She stopped twisting, finally accepting what had just happened. Ben pressed his lips against her ear.
    “ If you don't do exactly what I say,” Ben whispered to her, “I'm going to break your fucking neck.”

 
     
     
     
         CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
    ONE DAY AGO...
     
    J osh expected to stroll into a room full of disemboweled carcasses, but the inside of the recreation center looked open for business. Nothing looked displaced. There were no traces of a struggle. The desk where someone might have welcomed him sat clean and organized. The cash register on the registration counter looked brand new. For brief second, Josh wanted to smash the register and steal the funds inside. But money was useless now and he knew it. Cursing himself for his thuggish mindset, he continued walking cautiously in search of the restroom.
    Instead of finding the commode, Josh found a back office where he raided the desk and cabinets for anything useful. He hoped the desk belonged to an alcoholic, maybe there would be small bottle of brandy stuffed in the back of the drawers. It had been so long since Josh had a drink of anything. And right now, he needed something. Poison coursed through his veins, he could feel it. The dragon was hungry.
    After coming up empty, Josh headed for the bathroom. A white door on the opposite end of the building displayed a stick-figure drawing of a man. He cautiously pushed open the door, peering into the restroom. Making sure the coast was clear, Josh sighed. No flesh-eating corpses snacking on someone who had trapped themselves on the shitter waited for him.
    Josh tried the lights. Nothing happened. The bathroom seemed relatively spotless. Cleaned recently, Josh guessed. The tile on the floor and walls sparkled, even in the dim light a small window provided. As Josh approached the urinal, the dragon blew streams of fire into his chest. Try not to think about it, he told himself as he relieved his bladder. However, that's all Josh could think about. The pills. Putting one in his mouth. Swallowing. The feel-good sensations that soon followed. The warmth that consumed him.
    Sweat beaded on his forehead. His stomach lurched. He zipped himself up quickly, then stormed into the closest stall. He bent over, vomiting long streams of puke with the consistency of cake batter. Inside, the dragon continued its destructive path.
    For what seemed like forever, he knelt on the floor, resting his head on the toilet seat. Thoughts came to him. Ugly thoughts. He wondered if he should even bother carrying on. What was the point, now that the dead had risen and claimed the world their own? He'd seen the movies. How quickly everyone became one. Sure, in the movies the heroes survive, but this wasn't a fucking movie, and he wasn't a fucking hero. He was pathetic. Worthless. He'd eventually end up one of them, one of the dead. And that poor man he was traveling with— Ben. He'd only hold him back, probably get him killed too. Ben would probably would never see his son again thanks to Josh and his filthy habit. Pathetic, Josh thought. What's the point? I'm already dead...
    What about Olivia? Surely you care about her. Surely she's worth carrying on for.
    Sure he cared, but his feelings for her were limited, or else they'd probably still be together. Their good times were in the past. They partied a lot, they drank a lot, they smoked a lot, and they fucked quite often. But there was something missing, something Josh couldn't quite pinpoint, something he couldn't quite wrap his brain around. Let's face it—you're never going to marry the girl. You never planned on it. So really, what's the fucking point? The voice that spoke freely was right. The deep feelings weren't there, no sense that he