The road was clear for the first time in almost three hundred miles. It was upsetting that they had ditched their motorcycles because traffic was too thick. Near all the major centers of population before the outbreak, there were insane amounts of stalled cars on the roads, the rotting corpses of their masters sitting behind the wheel--almost as if they still hope to escape the fate which has already befallen them.
The only sounds in the barren plains that was Kentucky were the heavy footfalls of a boot wearing man in jeans and a leather jacket, the clicking heels of a woman in high heels and a mini-skirt, and the sound of their singing.
Oh whats the sound of the world out there, the man sang in a booming baritone voice.
What, Mr. Todd? What, Mr. Todd? What is that sound, the woman sang back in a pleasant alto voice.
Those crunching noises pervading the air!
Yes, Mr. Todd! Yes, Mr. Todd! Yes, all around!
Its man devouring man, my dear!
And who are we to deny it in here, they sang in unison.
The man was known as Freak Boy. He wore an eye patch, a faded leather jacket from the late 70s, loose fitting blue jeans, a red CCCP shirt, and a pair of heavy steel toed boots. His mullet was still there. The womans name was Kelsey Kramer. She stood about 54 with a beautiful body, and a pleasant face with a pony tail and bangs. She was very pale with freckles and smiled frequently. She wore an REM tank top from a concert they gave shortly before the plague hit. On the back were the titles of the songs they sang. The last number was Its The End of the World as we Know It.
They were the only immune survivors of the plague in the group. In addition to them there was Toni, the badly burned and almost bald survivor of Marks spiritual cleansing. There was Dr. Griggs, a round Irish man with short curly red hair; Andy, an annoying kid in his teens--the kind that seems like hell never grow up; Pete, a well rounded individual--good looking--who seemed to be the most mellow and sensible member of this group; and Chuck--the manly I aint nobodies bitch he-man. There were others with them--about 13 total--but I do not remember their names, nor do I care to for they were instrumental in my arrest.
Here we are, Kelsey said, presenting Freak Boy with an invisible pie.
What is that?
Its priest. Have a little priest!
Is it really good?
Sir, its too good, at least.
Then again they dont commit sins of the flesh.
So its rather fresh.
Got a lot of fat.
Only where it sat.
Havent you got poet,
Or something like that?
No you see the trouble with poet
Is how do you know its
Deceased?
Try the priest!
Heavenly. Not as hearty as bishop, but then again not as bland as curate either.
And its good for business. Always leaves you wanting more--the trouble is, we only get it on Sundays.
Lawyers rather nice.
If its for a price.
Then again get something to follow
Since no-one should swallow it twice.
This song, if you cant tell by now, is about cooking people and eating them. Perhaps not the best song to sing in the company of an individual who was almost in that situation, and many others who fear that perhaps they are small enough to be put in the same danger. Ill admit it wasnt a good choice, and the upcoming conflict was inevitable.
Freak Boy and Kelsey stopped at around three to start cooking lunch. Freak Boy set down the backpack with the nonperishables and the cooking supplies while Kelsey set down the purse with the rest of the plague victims in it. Freak Boy began starting the fire and setting a pot with water over it. The plague victims stretched out and saw the endless expanse of road before them and the beautiful sunset that was beginning.
Wow
you never appreciate stuff like this when youre in the city, Dr. Griggs said.
Sun hurts my eyes, Andy said simply. And with that he retreated into Kelseys purse again.
Should we tell them now, Pete asked. The whole group made a collective shushing noise.
Tell us what, Kelsey asked, laying on her stomach and bringing herself to eye level with the rest of the party.
We were wondering--
Why the hell are yall singing bout eatin people, Chuck demanded, cutting off Pete.
Kelsey and Freak Boy looked at one another. They smiled.
Oh god, its true, Toni screamed.
They began laughing.
Dont, I mean--come on, what the fuck is wrong with yall, Chuck growled.
Dudes, you got it all wrong, Freak Boy said, casting a warm smile. Kelsey and I are into musical theatre--when the plague hit-- Freak Boy began laughing again.
The two of us had the lead roles in the UCLA production of Sweeney Todd, Kelsey finished. Its a show by Stephen Sondheim set during the famine in Britain. Its a complex story, but basically what happens towards the end of Act I is they decide to start killing customers who come into Sweeneys barber shop and turn them into meat pies to be sold in my pie shop.
My
what a lovely musical, Dr. Griggs said.
True story, Freak Boy said, still laughing. Only Sondheim, eh?
Yeah
well at least we know you arent planning on chowing down on us any time soon, the doctor said.
Sorry we ever thought it--were just scared is all, Pete said. Sorry, you understand Im sure.
Dont worry Id be scared shitless too, Kelsey said. After all, I know I totally look like a murderer. Everyone began laughing. Of the two of them, Kelsey was the one who looked attractive and sweet to a tee. Freak Boy was the one who looked like a murderer--he fit the description perfectly: Mullet, Hispanic, eye patch, nondescript scars on his knuckles, arms, face and who knows where else, rugged unkempt appearance, leather jacket, constant 5 Oclock shadow--the list goes on.
It was Freak Boy they feared, and as a result of this they seemed to expect the worst from the two of them. After all, anyone who can hang out with someone that creepy looking (and kinda nutso acting for that matter) has to be messed up.
The evening passed rather uneventfully after that. Freak Boy and Kelsey sang some more songs from Sweeney Todd--the ones that werent about eating people, like Johanna and Kiss Me. And after that they fell asleep around the fire. Well most of them did. Freak Boy had wicked insomnia so he tended to sit up all night with a shotgun in hand. Tonight Kelsey joined him, head resting in his lap.
So
how long have you had insomnia?
Before I can remember--I know Kindergarten at the very latest, but Im almost positive its before that.
Sorry to hear that.
Dont be. You cant help it.
No, thats true
but Id like to help make your nights more interesting.
You do, Kels, Freak Boy said with that same warm smile. Its a lot more fun talking to you than it is talking to myself
and I feel more sane by comparison.
Kelsey rolled her eyes. Ha, ha.
Hey, what can I say, talking to any woman makes me feel sane. I dont know how you guys can think with all that damned estrogen clouding your thoughts.
Kelsey lightly smacked him. Freak Boy was something else
he was completely oblivious, for starters. Ever since her boyfriend died in the plague, she had grown
lonely. Freak Boy seemed to be a good decision to fill his spot. Why, she couldnt exactly place. He was funny, but that wasnt all
his cynical sarcastic wit was definitely appealing though. She cant say she was fond of the new eyepatch. Perhaps it was simply he was the only man her size in the area. Whatever the reason, she wanted him
but it was clear she had been filed away in the friend zone. Still
she could hope, right? God
I hate writing about myself in the third person. It makes me seem like a narcissist
or some sort of chauvinistic pig. Oh well, the point is, I was blind back then. I suppose things may have turned out better if I simply knew Kelsey was feeling lonely. But well never know now.
Giantess World
Author's Chapter Notes:
Story 27: Punk by the Book