In a world where zombies live among us, airline food takes on a new meaning. |
"Ruth!" I caught the animal skull with a laugh. Jamie, one of the West Coast crowd had thrown it from the huddle at the door. This had been a great conference and the fact that my reflexes were so fast just reminded me of how great life could be, even now. I'd been out of the N.Y. Office for the past week and it was fantastic not to have to worry about a caseload. Of course when I get back there'll be a ton of work, but until then it's was fun, fun, fun. Unfortunately Jamie wouldn't be sitting with me, I had the Peter's company to look forward to. But if the gossip was true Pete would have more chance with Jamie than me. But we'd all had some wild parties in Haiti, and where better for a bunch of fun loving 'zombies' to hang loose. "You going to do any black magic with that skull" Pete reached over to touch the cat skull, and casually held my hand in the process. I dropped it in his palm and adjusted my lap belt. "Why, do you think I need to use spells?" He blushed and looked away. Pete was a sweet guy, but he was in commercial lit. and I did criminal. A gulf too wide for romance, anyway I still hankered after the unobtainable Jamie. While Pete was fiddling with his own belt, a bit difficult one handed as he still had the skull, I took the opportunity grab "The Post" and got stuck into the crossword. I always took the opportunity to stretch my mind as it was the only way to truly appreciate the benefits of that the brain supplements gave. I know many 'zombies' couldn't afford the best drugs, but there was no way I was going to join the shuffling underclass out of some ill thought out sense of sister hood. Shit, they should have gone into a well paid career before they were afflicted. It was too late now as without the right supplements the even the best brain would rapidly deteriorate. With that thought I checked my wrist monitor, but it showed that I my blood levels were still good. Of course, if I was in court I'd want a supplement to boost my brain, but right now being a bit duller suited the flight. I'd was puzzling over 17 down when the Captain announced that we were being diverted around the edge of hurricane Albert, and to expect a few bumps. Well it seemed time for a break so I headed for the toilet. Now as a rule zombies don't have much use for toilets and such, but even a dead girl needs to 'freshen up', and my make up was feeling a bit tired. Now everyone always goes on about how great it is being dead, they all talk about not needing to sleep, no more periods or condoms, but they never mention the down side. The thing that really grates is that I don't tan anymore. Two weeks in Haiti and I still have to use fake tan. What's worse is that the only tan you can buy isn't designed for our oil free skin, so it rubs off to easily. So there was a white strip on my neck where my silver blouse had rubbed off the tan. So although I could add more tan, I couldn't do much about the brown gunk on my collar. Well, stuffing my makeup into my shoulder bag I decided to check when the food would be served, only to get confused by the door lock. This was a sure sign that I was getting low on the old brain juice, so I decided to let someone else try to talk to the cabin attendants. As I shuffled back to my seat I saw that some of my fellow passengers were arguing with the attendants already. The Air Canada attendants accent was easier to follow than that of most of the Haitians, but it still required more effort that I could spare. I didn't really want to try and listen, for even in my fogged state I knew that my fellow lawyers could argue in an empty room, so it didn't seem worth the concentration to find out what they were on about. But the down side of not sleeping was that I couldn't resist trying to analyse the argument. It sounded like Steve, the head of the Public Law team out of LA was protesting about the lack of neural supplement on the in-flight menu. Seems that you could have anything from macrobiotic lentil burgers to kosher longpig, but brain-stem puree ? nada. See, just because the dead now had human rights, it didn't mean we were getting equal treatment yet. But my head was too fuzzy to really get into it. I checked my wrist monitor again and was surprised how low my level was. It may have been a side effect of the cabin pressure, but I wasn't happy with it. A little mentioned problem with being undead was that we have to maintain the condition of our brains, which meant regular supplements. Now while the supplements boosted our brains back to their original state, which was fine while it lasted, we also built up tolerances. So we had to increase the amount and frequency of the supplements or we'd rapidly end up like the shuffling poor that had toted our bags back in Port-au-Prince. I must have drifted again as I took a moment to work out what had disturbed me, then a stewardess let out a gargled scream before disappearing into a huddle of my fellow lawyers. This was typical, here I am, trying to be polite whilst the West Coast crew scoff all the food. Well I'd had enough of this and went looking for some leftovers. There were a few rags and bone splinters left, but nothing of substance. This really wasn't on. I found a bare femur under a seat and the girls name tag, but if 'Ms Charlene' had been less petite I might have had more than a bone to suck on. If this is what comes of flying Air Canada then the pilot was going to get a bit of my mind. On that score I noticed that my wrist alarm was bleeping, so shuffling as fast as I could I banged on the cockpit door. I knocked again and was surprised when a woman looked out, here I was starving and they had more food hidden up front. Well I wasn't going to miss out this time and I shoved the woman back through the door and fell upon her. She was dressed differently to the other stewardesses, but when I ripped her blouse open she was as female as any of the others. Her small firm breasts seeming to tremble in anticipation of my attentions. She was making a right racket, but my mind was too dull to penetrate her thick accent, so I buried my face between her breasts and took a bite. Yes! this was what I needed, so tearing her chest open I forced my face into the gap until my teeth closed over her thrashing heart, and I felt it burst like an over ripe grape in my mouth. Now pleasurable though this was, what I really needed from this girl were her nerves, so I flipped her over and pulled her shirt up to expose her back. She had a firm athletic muscle tone, as was clear from the ridges of muscle in her back, so it took some effort to pull her spine out and suck down the invigorating juices within. I was starting to feel more myself now, and with the worse of the hunger receding I took stock of my surroundings. This was a small room, which from my position crouched over my meal was mostly obscured by the backs of two big chairs. I supposed that this was where the drivers sat, and I was grateful that they weren't paying me any mind. You see there's nothing that ruins a good feed than a 'normal' expressing their disgust. But if they were willing to ignore me then I'd get on with my dinner. I pulled her pants down to reveal a cute pair of knickers with little flowers on, and realised that the old neurones must be starting to fire again, so with a smile I chewed my way towards the base of the girls spine. With her spinal chord gone there wasn't much left down here to interest your average 'zombie', but my proclivities included the odd sapphic indulgence, so tugging her bloody pants do her knees I turned her battered torso over and buried my face in her gore covered pubes to taste her flavour. Now some people claim that all girl meat tastes the same, but I was sure that there was a hint of French cooking in her most intimate meat, with a faint residue of garlic as I rolled her clit on my tongue before swallowing. This meal was a great finish to my vacation and I made a mental note to thank Air Canada for the quality of their provisions, heck if they could provide this on a regular basis I'd never fly another airline again. Now I knew that I shouldn't be greedy, but as a lawyer I had no scruples about gorging myself on this young woman, regardless of the needs of my co-workers. By now I was sitting on the twisted flesh that had once been her chest and gazing into her peaceful face, admiring the cute smile that still seemed to play about her slack mouth. She had such kissable lips that I couldn't help myself, and as my cold tongue probed the blood warmed cavity I licked the blood of those pearly white teeth to bring her smile back to it's full glory. There were irritating beeping noises coming from the front of the room, but I was determined not to be distracted, so I kissed her silky lips again. I kissed that sweet mouth, then taking her soft lower lip in my teeth I tore it off and swallowed. This was some of the best meat that could be found on a girl, and within moments her upper jaw was exposed to the air, as I devoured her beauty. I'd just finished tearing her tongue out when the beeping started to change to an automated voice that demanded that we/I "pull up". It was getting quite insistent, so twisting her head loose from her slender neck I went to investigate, and found that the drivers seats were actually empty, and there I'd thought the drivers were just being polite when not interrupting my meal. The voice was getting even louder now, and it was very insistent that we "pull up". My head was still a bit fuzzy and I couldn't seem to focus, but I instinctively knew I needed to get smart, and fast! Now I hadn't touched the girls brain yet, it being protected by her skull, but now wasn't the time for subtlety, so I hit her head against the wall. This wasn't very effective but when I used the board with all the dials and screens I was rewarded by the thick slurping sound as I pulled the shattered head loose from the switched that were now thick with grey matter. This was what I really needed and I scooped out handfuls at a time and swallowed it down. I'd nearly finished scraping out the inside of the girls skull with her plastic name badge when the old synapses finally got up to speed, feeling like a dense fog clearing from my mind. I was sitting in the pilots seat in the cockpit of an airliner, so far so good. Looking around, there were panels of flashing lights that didn't look good, hell I panic when the oil light glows in my car and this place was lit like a Christmas tree. Now what I needed to do was find the pilot and get him to sit up here rather than me, I was sure it was a good idea to have a pilot sitting in this seat at the moment. UnfortunatelyI noticed the name badge I'd been spooning the girls cortex out with said 'Captain Julie Clarke', this wasn't good, in fact it could be very bad because I noticed there seemed to be a rather tall mountain in our way. I spent a few moments thinking whether I could put the pilot back together again, but the lightness of her bare and empty skull told me that might not work. Looking around I couldn't find the breaks to stop us, then remembered this wasn't a car. I think the sight of trees flashing past the windows had me confused a bit. I'd barely started cursing the Canadians for using edible pilots when I saw a large ridge straight ahead, getting very rapidly closer, closer... oh dear. |