The Longest Night by K.M. Gibson Page A

husband across the littered asphalt. Paper, food wrappers, clothes, money, brief reminders that people had been here once very recently, and they were no longer. Lives gone in the blink of an eye.
    She paused on the road, for she could see bodies lying up ahead. Her husband groaned at her side, trying to stay on his feet. Grip was weakening. Her legs gelatin, heart ice.
    “Please don’t move,” she whispered.
    “What?”
    She kept staring at them. Shelter, look for shelter. Her head would not turn. Her feet would not move. Fear like jaws clamping down on her spine. Her breath was hard to keep.
    One of the corpse’s arms moved and she let her bladder go.
     
    Once they crossed the river, she let her breath go. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding it. Some were crying behind her, while others cussed under their breath. Catherine was no longer at the front of the group as they neared the grocery store. She figured it would give a semblance of control back, being able to navigate their own town. They needed to feel in control of something .
    As they travelled down Thickwood Boulevard, the grocery store came into view. The parking lot was completely full of cars. At some point people stopped parking in the stalls and simply parked wherever there was empty space. Even the road was jam-packed with vehicles. But all was void of life.
    As they got closer, she could see that the automatic doors had been broken in and shoved aside. They were cracked and bent; half of one pane of glass had shattered completely. There were spots of blood on the edges. A faint trail led inside. The implication of food being in there made her step in. Skylights cast little light on the empty ruin. But as they passed the broken-down doors, they could see the mess clearly enough. A rancorous stench hit them as they ventured farther in. Rotten food lay scattered on the tile along with baskets, bags, scales, money. Nobody was here anymore because they had taken all the food there was to have and left. Nobody was here anymore because they died.
    She looked to the produce section that stretched from the entrance to the back of the store. Brown and black chaos remained in the green cartons lining the walls. Some people began to spread out and look down the aisles for any food that was left. She was almost certain there would be nothing, not even a coupon or a price tag.
    “Catherine,” Dave said from behind her. She turned slightly to see him standing there. They shared heavy glances, then turned back to the storefront. A man was rummaging through scattered papers on the ground. His son, who could have been no older than six, stood next to him, crying quietly.
    “Shit,” Dave muttered under his breath.
    “What are we going to do?” she asked quietly as a man began to curse wildly from somewhere on the other end of the deserted store, throwing around bins and shopping carts full of nothing. She’d known hunger, but she could never have fathomed starving.
    A scream pierced the air, shrill, petrifying. Her heart skipped. Dave rushed past her down the nearest aisle and she rushed after him. The shelves were stark white and utterly empty, and the scream just echoed .
    Dave rounded the corner and skidded to a stop, swearing loudly. She jerked to a halt beside him in similar fashion. A woman stood leaning against the wall, her hands shaking over her eyes as screams flew from her mouth uncontrollably. A large black and brown stain covered the floor at her feet, where laid the remains of a dismembered body, which had been pummelled and cut . From where she stood she could see the teeth marks.
     
    Their hands were of claws and blades of the beast, their teeth were of the iron that God had forged, their eyes were the omnipresent spirit not of good nor evil, waiting to claim every last soul and devour their humanity and their bodies. They were the saviours of the world and the reapers of the living, and they would feast on flesh not out of hunger but out of