"The HUNGERy"

by JesseSprague

The first Tsunami hit on August 4th 2020. "They" named the storm Trudy. Around this time someone discovered an ancient temple that had been revealed by the melting icecaps. It was a huge story, especially since there was a curse inscribed over the doorway, but when more storms hit, the temple was quickly forgotten. They named the next three Tsunamis Winnie, Yolanda, and Genevieve. They—whoever it was who used to name storms. After that, the storms went on and the coasts were ravaged. They stopped giving names. They stopped being a they.

I was living in Seattle at the time—far enough from the coasts not to be hit by the first wave of storms, but the icecaps continued to melt and ocean levels rose, and by the time the storms stopped, Seattle was submerged and my family and I lived in a tenement camp in Western Washington.

At seventeen, I'd never really experienced hunger before, not real hunger. But that summer, in the sticky heat of 2021, I ate green berries off of bushes until I puked the acidy mess up—anything to fill the aching hole in my gut.

And we were the lucky ones. I didn't know it then, but the people we'd left behind—those that had camped out on hills and mountain ranges around Seattle faced a worse hunger.

My sincerest hope as I write this is never to experience that hunger. I don't fear death. I fear The Hunger.

***

His eyes were white, a soggy, foul, white like spoiled milk. When I saw those creamy eyes staring up at me, I jumped and then tightened my arms around the apple bough I'd climbed up onto, I immediately tucked my legs around the trunk. I'd heard him approach but assumed it was either Dad, Rajesh, or Sajiv coming to call me back to the camper van.

So I hadn't been prepared when I glanced down from my rather unproductive session of apple picking to find any stranger looking me. Still, I couldn't have told you what beyond those blind eyes unnerved me so fully. I clung to the tree trunk as if my life depended on it. His lips were cracked and white, and his hair had twigs sticking from its greasy strands, but that was true of half the refugees back at camp. And if anything, blind eyes should have eased my fear of being caught alone with a strange man, since it implied he couldn't actually see me. I had a distinct advantage.

"Hungry," he muttered, and his mouth hung open after the statement.

At his voice, the hairs rose on my arms and legs, standing so straight my skin felt stiff. My duffel bag of apples rested behind me on the tree limb, wedged between two offshoot branches but my backpack hid between me and the tree trunk—its bulky awkward contents dug into my chest. Including the bladelike edge of the sign I'd confiscated earlier.

My silence didn't affect him at all, and the blind-eyed man continued to stare directly at me. "Hungry."

"Get your own tree!" I snapped. "It's an apple orchard!"

"Hungry," he repeated.

He clearly wouldn't be much of a conversationalist. I must look a complete doofus clinging to the trunk of an apple tree arguing with a blind man. What if Sajiv saw me? He'd never stop laughing...or seeing me as a little girl.

"Hungry," the white-eyed annoyance said.

"Yeah, so is everyone. What's wrong with you?"

Then my brother screamed. The sound came from the southern part of the orchard, near the entrance. Jack was only ten, and lots of things scared him, especially since we had to flee our home. But I'd never heard him scream like that.

The man, who had up to that point not diverted his creepy eyes from me, turned and took a lurching step in the direction of the scream. He ambled away, his limbs seeming to be stiff and hard to move. Never-the-less he managed a decent pace.

I reached into my messenger bag, which was still squashed between me and the tree. I grabbed out a can of peaches—mostly because it was the heaviest thing in there. It was meant to be my lunch, and maybe my dinner too depending on what we were able to scavenge up. I brought my arm back, fingers tense around the can, and I chucked it at the man's head.

The impact made a hollow thunk as it struck his temple. I half expected the man to fall down, but he barely even staggered.

"Leave him alone!" I shouted.

The clap of a shotgun rang out in the distance. Dad's I assumed. Since the only gun the Bhatti's had was a pistol. Though it could also mean the asshat in front of me had friends who were armed. Somehow, I didn't quite buy that. Nothing about Mr. White-eyes screamed social success.

"You go anywhere near them and my dad will shoot you!"

The man turned to me, after taking another lumbering step toward the other commotion. I was dimly aware I'd just threatened him with my dad, which made me feel about twelve, but it had worked. And anything that kept this freak away from my brother was worth it.

I adjusted on the bough and dug into my bag. I wasn't willing to dig into the duffle where I had my stash of apples. Fresh food was hard to come by, and even this orchard had already been raided. Most of the trees were picked over, and all the farm animals had been slaughtered. But I'd had my messenger bag to draw from and from one pointy edge digging into my ribs, I knew I had something left in there that could serve as a weapon.

"Stay back, I'm armed," I lied. No way Daddy would give me a gun, but this freak didn't have to know I meant a metal sign I'd found over one of the barn doors. It had appealed to me in its simplicity: DO NOT ENTER. I assumed it meant visitors to the orchard not the staff, but it didn't waste time explaining that as some signs did. I'd hoped to save it, put it over the door of my room...you know, if I ever had a room again. All I really had was a metal sign to hit White-eyes with.

"Hungry," the man said, and a maggot crawled from the corner of his mouth, dropping to the dirt at his feet.

I gagged, but he didn't even appear to notice. "What's wrong with you? Are you sick?" I asked. "Sorry about the can." I wasn't sorry.

"Hungry." He swiped an arm up towards me, his fingers grazed my calf where it curled against the tree limb.

My fingers closed around the sharp edge of the sign, but somehow the act of slashing him with it sickened me. He was still human after all. I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted him to go away and hopefully get some help.

"Get away—I'm warning you."

His fingers continued to claw at my leg, his face tilted up, jaws snapping. Maggots churned in the back of his throat and a small scream erupted from mine as his teeth continued to clash together.

I pulled the sign out of my messenger bag and slashed down, aiming at his flailing arms. The flesh of his forearm sloughed off at my cleave—far more easily than flesh should have. Rather than blood pouring out a thick black ooze made crawled down his arm.

More maggots erupted out of his open mouth.

I screamed and flailed madly at those arms with my sign, not bothering to aim. Soon the sign was coated in black ooze and the man, thing, creature, freak showed no signs of noticing that bone peered in patches from under his grey flesh.

Zombie. I thought the word easily. But acceptance was harder. Zombies didn't exist.

Still, I tried to aim around its arms at its head. One blow made it clean through and the edge of the sign sank into one milky-white eye—now white ooze dripped over its face but it showed no signs of stopping.

A clap of riffle fire—deafening this time—closer. My ears sent shock waves through me at the sound.

The zombie's stomach exploded outwards, slicking the tree with black goo which writhed with maggots. The man continued to claw up at me, though I noted its swings had less force behind them.

Another shot—this one collided with the zombie's shoulder.

The zombie fell to the ground—a hole in its gut I could've stuck my arm through and one arm barely attached. Still it mumbled, mouth clashing, feet pawing at the earth.

I felt a need to pound in its skull. Especially as I saw those teeth, now stained with black, clash in the direction of my father's leg. Thankfully, Dad remained out of reach. The same word the zombie had said all along gurgled from his lips.

"Hungry."

"Willow!" my dad shouted. I got the feeling this was not the first time he'd called me, just the first time I'd heard.

I dragged my eyes away from the zombie-man-thing on the ground to Dad.

"Are you okay?" He asked, but he didn't look at me, instead he glanced back over his shoulder, then once more back towards the zombie, only then lifting his gaze to me.

"Fine, Dad." My arms shook. "Shoot it in the head."

"Come down, Will. We got to go—now."

"Shoot it in the head!" It was like he'd never seen a zombie movie.

"No need. Look at it."

I looked. The creature had stopped moving. A smell like rotting fish lifted from him making the area putrid.

I jumped down from the tree, cradling my messenger bag. My eyes never left the dead thing until I vaulted far out of its reach. "What's that?"

"I don't know." Dad waved me to follow him. His energy was nervous and his eyes didn't settled on anything. "Come on."

He took off running with a glance behind to make sure I followed. That's when I noticed my brother Jack wasn't with him. I ran after Dad.

When we came to the van Usthma stood outside, looking worried. Her husband Rajesh stood in front of the van holding his pistol—though from what I'd seen of that thing a pistol wouldn't do a damn thing to against another like the zombie-thing.

"The Hungry," Rajesh said, mostly muttering to himself but perfectly audible. "It couldn't be, they aren't real. Not real, just a silly rumor to scare people off the coast. There's no such thing as the Hungry."

Inside the camper van Sajiv, Usthma and Rajesh's son, who'd been a med student before it all, sat over my brother. Dad was already at the bedside, and I didn't want to crowd in, so I stood back peering over their shoulders.

"One of those things bit him," Usthma said softly from behind me.

***

My brother Jack hadn't woken since Sajiv medicated him and bound the Hungery's bit on his shoulder. A garlicky oily smell lingered in the air, making my stomach growl, even while watching my unconscious brother.

Rajesh had caught some fish earlier in the day from a river that meandered along next to the orchard. Dad and he must have had some for an early lunch while the rest of us were out in the apple orchard because the remnants sat on plates, perched precariously on the sink. The remaining portions would be in the fridge but despite the growling from my stomach I couldn't bring myself to pull any out and eat.

Sajiv didn't either. And for once Usthma didn't nag at us to eat something while it was fresh.

How could I eat when a zombie had bitten my brother?

The bleeding had been awful when I first entered the camper but Sajiv had gotten it staunched and bandaged. We'd driven a short ways into one of the orchard's barns, since Dad feared that more of those things were wandering about. He'd seen more in the orchard but wouldn't tell me how many.

In fact, he wouldn't tell me anything. He just moped silently and lashed out to fight with Rajesh.

So, I was alone to stew in my worries and fears. Mostly fears about Jack. He'd lost a lot of blood, which in a normal environment would be enough to worry about.

But I wasn't afraid of the blood loss. I wondered if anyone was. We all knew what happened to people bitten by zombies. Rajesh had wanted to tie Jack to the bed, but Dad had refused that point blank. Still one of us had to sit with the shotgun watching Jack. Since Dad wouldn't let me touch the gun and Usthma wouldn't touch the gun, which wound up being a rotation between Dad, Rajesh and Sajiv.

Sajiv was watching Jack as the sun set, threatening us with darkness at any moment. A song played at a low volume on the radio, barely audible to me but I still caught a few lines about rude guys and gals. I sat in a chair monitoring every twitch or sigh Jack made. His blond hair was plastered to his head with sweat and on occasion he let out a moan.

"Rajesh, Jesus! How could you not have told us about these things?" My dad yelled. This was not the first time this argument had popped up and I sank lower in my seat.

Rajesh sat in the passenger's seat and Dad stood in the isle blocking my view. Usthma must have been in the driver's seat because she hadn't left and she wasn't back with Sajiv, Jack and me.

"I had nothing but rumors on the AM radio to go by—and it sounded ridiculous—fake. The DJ's laugh about it. I mean come on...an ancient temple buried in the ice with a curse." He waggled his fingers off to the side, to mock the idea. I couldn't see his face but even this little movement irked me.

"You should have told us," Dad said. His back stiffened under his worn jean jacket. Black blood stained his shoulder and a dried black spray covered his right leg.

I rolled my eyes and glanced over at Sajiv. He was twenty-one and in the world before I never would have even thought to talk to him. A med student old enough to drink? He didn't want anything to do with a little seventeen year old. Things were different now.

His hair did this little flip in the back, where I assumed he couldn't see it, a cowlick but a fascinating one. It was just a tiny grouping of his black hairs that refused to flow with the rest and stood out staunch and strait pointing toward his left ear. He gave me a shrug and a lazy, though strained, smile, which suited his thick lips and generally heavy features.

"What do they hope to accomplish?" I asked.

"Don't know," he said.

It seemed like a really profound moment. Then I returned to watching the parents and my brother in turns. No one had suggested killing Jack...yet, but I knew it'd crossed everyone's mind. Heck, it'd crossed my mind. I'd never do it. Never. But that didn't mean I hadn't thought of the possibility.

"The main group of them were headed East," Rajesh said. "I saw them pass between those barns."

I couldn't see Rajesh, but I assume he pointed.

"So we go South," Dad said.

"California is underwater, so is a large portion of Oregon. South doesn't work," Rajesh said.

"The Tsunamis have stopped," Dad said. "If we have to skirt the coast for a while, it's no big deal."

"Except the radio said the plague...curse...whatever it is comes from the ocean." Rajesh sounded annoyed.

Usthma's voice cut in, her words soft enough I leaned forward to hear. "As the sea levels rise all the crap we dumped in there is coming back at us—something in the salt water and it's massively contagious."

I thought of the temple they'd uncovered then and wondered if Usthma was right. Was this just a matter of chemicals causing a corruption? It seemed to me an ancient curse would be harder to escape so I wanted to believe her.

"How does the radio say it spreads?" Dad asked.

And the unvoiced question—does it spread by saliva? Is Jack doomed? My eyes flicked to Jack's pale face and the neatly placed bandage sticking out from under his collar.

"It's been suggested that its physical contact with saltwater—it attaches to the skin and sinks in—maybe it requires blood contact. They don't really know. Sexual contact has been suggested, so has the idea that it could be spread by mosquitos and other bloodsucking bugs and people have been warned against eating anything that comes from the ocean."

"Shit, I'm so hungry—I'd almost risk it," Dad said, he slumped to the side, leaning on the back of Rajesh' seat. One arm lifted to rest over his stomach.

My mouth fell open. How could he even say that?

"Me too," Rajesh said. "Any apples? I'm so hungry...so very, very hungry."

I wondered how either of them could even thing of eating with Jack laying there all pale and flushed. Dad moved aside and Usthma strode into the back with us. She grabbed up a purple backpack she'd taken out that morning and unzipped it. Golden and red apples peered out. Usthma handed all of us apples. I recalled I'd left my whole score up in the tree.

"Eat, eat," Usthma said. "I know you don't want to but we must stay strong."

This sounded more like the usual Usthma. I managed to down one apple before I started feeling queasy thinking about those maggots falling from that man's lips. I stopped eating before I puked up the little I'd managed.

Sajiv saw me watching as our dad's munched away. I think he was as uncomfortable with it as I was, because he turned his back and placed himself in front of me, blocking my view of them.

"Willow?" Sajiv asked.

Gratefully, I focused on his face and nodded.

"Were you named after the character on Buffy?" he asked.

Part of me was surprised it took him this long to ask—I mean we'd known each other for months now. But maybe the show wasn't as big of a deal for him culturally as it was for me...and all the people who usually asked. Part of me was surprised that he chose that moment to ask. But another part of me understood. He had to talk about something, anything to distract us from how odd our dads were acting.

"No, though everyone asks," I said. "I was named after this old movie "Willow" and Jack's name comes from another movie called "Legend."

"Oh." Sajiv said. He fidgeted, clearly lacking a follow up question.

I figured I'd help him out. "Mom was a huge fantasy movie buff."

He looked even more uncomfortable, and I realized I'd never talked about my mom. Not since we met up with him and his family at the refugee camp. It wasn't like she was some big secret though, Dad just didn't like to hear about her. She'd run off when I was ten and hadn't contacted us since. I thought she'd died. Dad thought she'd left us. Jack didn't remember her.

Sajiv retreated back to his post by Jack's bed.

Dad and Rajesh ate the rest of the fish and several apples each. They hadn't stopped eating when I curled up in my chair and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

***

Jack woke up in the morning. His crisp, blue eyes lifted a weight from my soul. Sajiv and I crowded around his bedside. Our parents were slumped in the front of the camper, and I should have gone to wake Dad but, truth was, I wanted a moment alone with Jack.

"How do you feel?" I asked. My stomach clenched, afraid to hear that one word. Hungry. And what if he said it...what if...

"My neck hurts—A LOT," Jack said in a soft voice.

"Let me check the wound." Sajiv said. He reached out for the bandage.

I turned away not wanting to see. I figured maybe I could go wake Dad now, but instead I saw that Dad was already awake. Something was wrong with his movements as he struggled out of his seat.

Rajesh was bent over Usthma, sleeping in her lap, or so I'd thought originally. Now I realized his torso was jerking slightly...his head moving...while she was completely motionless, head slumped to the side, mouth hanging open.

"Hungry," Dad said.

I tasted bile.

Puke ran down his chin—bits of fish and apple staining the front of his shirt. He staggered forward a step. I crept back.

His eyes were a milky white.

Behind him Rajesh moved, lifting his head away from Usthma, his face coated in blood. Half of Usthma's thigh was missing.

Seafood...fish migrated back and forth from the ocean. And wasn't the ocean where the curse was supposed to be. Had they been carrying the same ancient curse under their scales—the same hunger filling their eggs with it? How far would the curse carry? Bears and other carnivores ate fish.

My mind reeled with these thoughts, though looking back, I should have been focused on the terror of the moment. It was too much. I couldn't focus. I could barely get my mouth to move.

"Stay back," I said grabbing up a metal handled pan from the stove.

Dad stepped forward.

A fish arced over my shoulder, hitting the floor.

Dad's milky eyes went to it and he bent to retrieve it. I glanced over my shoulder. Sajiv stood by the refrigerator, and rather than the shocked, lax expression I was sure I had, he looked focused and angry. Jack had struggled out of bed and was backing up toward the wall. The shotgun lay at the edge of the bed.

Sajiv lunged for the riffle and I ducked out of the way. The sound of the shot firing clapped like thunder in my ears, leaving only a ringing sound. I covered my ears as Sajiv moved by me. Another shot fired.

I spun and ran back to my brother. Once I had a hold on him I wait, hunched against the sound of further gunfire. When the shots stopped I looked up at Sajiv, black splattered over him and none of the adults moved.

Jack sobbed. I wanted to comfort Sajiv, I couldn't imagine how hard firing those shots had been. My own emotions balled tight inside me and among them was an irrational anger, and an overwhelming sorrow at seeing my dad's head caved in kept me from verbally comforting Sajiv. So instead of speaking, I tugged Jack out the door.

He couldn't stay there anyway. He was too young to see any of that. So was I.

Once I'd exited the barn and stood in the open, fear froze me. What if there were more Hungery out here? I couldn't protect Jack. With distain, I dropped the pan I found I was still holding.

Jack sobbed, but through my ringing ears I couldn't hear him, only see his little mouth quiver and tears roll down his face.

Sajiv caught up to us. He had the riffle slung over one shoulder and his arms full with his backpack, mine and Jack's. He was alone. I think part of me had hoped that at least Usthma had made it out alive. But the tension on Sajiv's face kept me from asking.

He tossed me my backpack at me and placed Jack's next to him. I looks down, surprised at Sajiv's presence of mind. He'd thought to strap our sleeping bags to the bottom of the packs. His pockets bulged with riffle shells.

"My duffle, with apples is still out in the orchard," I said, though I couldn't hear my own words. I doubted he could either.

Still, Jack and Sajiv followed me as I strode into the orchard toward that tree. We walked in complete stunned silence. Anything I wanted to say remained frozen in my lungs as my mind recalled the splatter out of Dad's head.

When we reached the tree with my duffle Jack and I stared at the Hungery's corpse. I held him and he trembled. Sajiv went up the tree.

Then we started walking again. My dad was dead. So were Sajiv's parents. The shock dried all intelligent words off of my tongue, but as we reached the edge of the orchard, I found myself wanting to speak. Wanting to let Sajiv know I didn't blame him, though in all honestly, I don't know if I did blame him.

"End of the world, hunh?" I asked, like an idiot. "Good thing we have someone who trained to be a doctor with us."

"Actually I didn't," Sajiv said softly. "My parents just liked to say that. I was in nursing school, not med school."

"Why would they lie about that?" I asked.

Jack trudged behind us silently, eyes on the ground. He looked pale and I doubted he could go much farther. But we had to make it out of the orchard at least. Away from this scenery that would forever represent losing Dad.

Sajiv shrugged in response to my question. "They were ashamed I guess. They thought, hey, end of the world, we can make up our own narrative. So they just changed it."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

It was another one of those profound moments. We approached the fence at the edge of the orchard and stopped. Climbing it would be tough.

"Do you think this was caused by that temple they found when the icecaps started melting?" Sajiv asked me. Then he motioned to Jack. "Let me help you over."

"No," I said.

Sajiv hoisted Jack up as far as he could and Jack struggled to pull himself up over the fence.

"It couldn't be," I said, taking off my bag. I figured I should throw it over in front of me. "It's like the pyramids—sure there were curses etched into them but curses aren't real."

Sajiv and I both threw our packs over.

"But Willow, don't you remember the wording they translated from the door? It was all over the news?"

I did. But I didn't answer him. He waited a moment and then climbed the fence.

I remembered the translated curse. I didn't want to but I did: Let not your insatiable urges guide you. The water is hungrier than ever you or yours could be. Seek not to conquer what is not yours lest the water's hunger conquer you."

I climbed over the fence and without another word we started walking. My compass said it was Northeast.

"How did you manage to do that...I mean just shoot them, so easily?" I asked Sajiv.

"If you have to eat shit, best not to nibble. Bite, chew, swallow, repeat. It goes down quicker."

Not a phrase to make you hungry. Still, I wasn't sure I ever would be hungry again, but I did feel oddly optimistic. Maybe with Sajiv on my side, and Jack to motivate me, I could actually survive the Hungery.