After stuffing my face with as many sweets as my stomach could hold, I left with them. We walked past rows of ghostly houses and leftover, molded food. While Wastia and Styke were in the front, I paced behind Charles in silence.

Crows cawed in the distance. Some perched on street lights, others pecked at abandoned lunches. I huffed. It wasn't fair; they were eating all the good stuff! To distract myself from shooing them away, I closed in on Charles.

"Hey," I called, poking his back. "Quick question. Actually, a few."

"Yeah?" The toothpick between his teeth nodded when he turned to me.

"Before... when I was fighting a savage," I swallowed down any thought of Bonnie and Mary, continuing, "at some point, I couldn't control my body. Is that normal?"

He glanced to me as I tapped my fingertips together. With a sigh, he answered, "Ah, that happens sometimes. Then you hear the buzzing, right? It's pretty common. You'll get used to it."

I didn't want to. "Oh," I commented. Silence. "When we were in the bakery, Wastia and Styke left to have a meeting. Why didn't she call you too?"

A smirk curled his lips upwards. He stopped and folded his hands behind his head. "You really wanna know?"

Charles leaned down to my eye level. I gulped, tempted to step back when he winked. "They like to feel each other up in public. Somethin' about exc―"

Styke's arm wrapped around Charles' neck before he could finish. "Whatcha chatting about, Charlie?" He looked from me to him, smiling. "Sounds fun."

Slowly, Charles lowered his arms to his side. He gave a small laugh. "Oh y'know, just the perks of being dead. T-There's plenty to go around, right?"

When I looked at him, Charles had a slight glimmer in his eyes. He didn't seem terrified at all. In fact, he looked pretty satisfied. I cringed back. At that point, I was weighing the pros and cons of sticking with these misfits. On one hand, I could gain possible protection, but on the other, it didn't seem like they'd hesitate to kill me if I slipped up. Wait, could I die again?

"Would you two shut up?" Wastia hissed. "We haven't even left the sector and you're already playing around." She whipped her head back, eyes narrowed on them. "If you keep this up, your brains'll be fried next."

"Yes ma'am," they said in unison.

We resumed walking, this time Wastia's threat keeping my questions unspoken. For the moment, at least.

The deeper we traveled, the louder the wind howled. It lifted torn flyers and dead leaves. Some of both brushed against my legs before gliding into ransacked houses. I sighed and slowed my pace. The desolate sight reminded me of the past, when Jack and I scoured every sector we could find for a meal. Whether it was stale bread or leftovers, we didn't care as long as we survived to the next day. No matter how much I thought on it, I couldn't understand. Why would he leave me behind, after years of having my back? I had to know. If... If what he says isn't reasonable, then I'd―

"Lulu!" someone yelled.

The distant call pulled me back to the present. Wastia, Styke and Charles were far ahead, pausing to look at me. Apparently I'd stopped in my tracks while thinking of my brother.

I jogged until I was caught up. "Sorry about that," I muttered, keeping my eyes on the ground. A tornado of questions swirled in my head. Ones I wasn't sure when I'd get the answer to.

Charles' shadow turned back. I lifted my gaze to his, forcing myself to not look away. It felt like his stare could penetrate into my conscious and peek at my troubles. That, or I was overthinking a simple look.

His lips spread into a toothy grin, brows raised. "Getting cold feet?"

"What?"

"About joining us." He pushed his bangs back with his hand, though his efforts were fruitless as they fell over his forehead once more. "I can see why you'd be scared. Don't worry, the initiation is easy."

I shook my head. "No, it's not that. I was just distracted."

"Well, it's your first day. You aren't expected to accept this so easily."

Wastia huffed in front of us. "Which is why I always say we shouldn't take in fresh meat. But no one listens," she grumbled.

"Sorry." There it was again; guilt twinging in my stomach over something I had no control over. No, I did. But for some reason I made the worst decisions. Upsetting Jack, abandoning Mary and Bonnie, and now...

Charles pushed me down behind a flipped car before I could finish the thought.

I tightened my hold on my machete, glaring at his swinging jaw. "What the hell are you―"

His hand slapped over my mouth. "Be quiet for a second, Sweets," he whispered. "There's danger ahead."

The others soon joined us. Styke squatted next to me while Wastia leaned against Charles' back. They tried to mold themselves to the car's shape as we sat upright.

Was there another savage, or better yet, a cake, running around? Curious, I peeked above the door Charles sat by. Lo and behold, a fat and sweaty man stumbled from a corner. With a green bottle in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other, he frolicked over corpses.

He must've been like Dib, a nasty savage who murdered the innocent. Who knew how many kids like Mary he ruined with his grubby, disgusting hands. I bent down, eyes widened. What if he tasted sweeter? He had to have sugary meat since he was bigger. That wasn't fair. He should've known that sharing was caring.

I couldn't help gulping when he tripped. One more fall and he was bound to get scratches. My trembling hands found their way to my mouth. Gnawing on them was the only way I could resist jumping the savage and cutting him open. He must've had a plethora of crimes under his belt. My legs shuddered at the thought.

"No one move," Wastia uttered, "or we're all dead for good."

She looked under the vehicle, then turned back to us. If she was nervous, it didn't show. Her lips stayed locked in a thin line, stare never wavering. She furrowed her thick brows before sighing. "Our best bet is to lay low until the drunk leaves."

What? If we waited for him to leave, then he'd hurt others. "That's such a waste!" I whined without thinking. My voice bounced against the walls. Shit.

Three sets of bulged eyes stared daggers into my face. Styke covered my mouth, but to no avail. It was too late; the savage was headed in our direction.

Deep chuckles reverberated from him. "Is that a survivor? Come on out. I don't bite," he cooed.

Dammit, dammit, dammit! Today really wasn't my day. I had to fix this blunder, or else I'd be back to square one. My grip on the machete tightened. I frowned at the thought of it getting so dirty right after I cleaned it. Still, I used it to hoister myself up. Charles tried to pull me back down. This had to be the initiation he mentioned. I swatted his hand away and whispered, "I want to try."

I wasn't sure if this counted as the test, but I'd be damned if I passed this chance up. With a lick of my lips, I left my hiding spot.

"There you are! It's dangerous hanging around this sector. How about I..." the savage paused to let his eyes skim over my body. Limbs covered in dried bite marks and clothes in blood made it pretty obvious what I was. He tilted his head, then laughed. "A zombie, right after I lost my gloves? What luck."

"L-Listen up, you savage!" I held my machete between my legs, pointed to the ground. "I'm―"

Sweet bread, blood and meat flooded my nose as he came closer. I inhaled their strong scents, eyes wide. No way... that was inside him? Dib's meat was sickly sweet, so maybe his was too. Drool seeped from the corner of my mouth. I shouldn't do this but, it was no use. I had to make him suffer. After wiping my mouth and readjusting my grip, I continued, "You shouldn't have taken the job."

On that note, I sprinted to him before the others could stop me. Laughs bubbled from my gut, some shakier than others. A grin sneaked on my face. Only sugar and justice were on my mind. I couldn't wait to taste him. All I had to do was beat him like a piñata. That's what he deserved, right?

Which meant it was okay to pop him open. But what about the other savages? Did they taste sweet too? My mouth watered. I couldn't wait to eat more.

The savage's once cherry-tinted cheeks now held a ghostly pale hue. He rummaged through his pockets as I honed in. Alas, his fumbling movements couldn't counter my thrust in time.

I tackled him to the ground, machete piercing his stomach. A splash of red hit my lips on impact.

"Get off," he spat. Sweat beads clung to his black hair.

"Funny, that's exactly what Dib said before he stabbed me." I pushed the weapon down, silencing him with my hand when he screamed. "Wasn't that mean?"

He glowered at me. Eyes wide open and teeth digging into my skin, the man tried his hardest to resist my advances. It was frutile. I didn't plan on letting this late-night dessert escape.

Regardless, he continued stirring and flailing. I clicked my tongue. He needed to stop moving. It was a pity I didn't have any crowbars...oh! I sat on his stomach and held his hands down with my feet. After ripping the machete from his gut, I slammed it through his chest.

Screeches simmered to gurgles. His feet and arms spasmed until silence filled the air. The savage's brown eyes rolled to the back of his pretty little head by the time I lifted my head up. Blood stained our clothes red.

"Better," I muttered between giggles. "Now, where's that sweet bread?"

Once my clothes were wiped of dust, I placed the machete on his arm. My shadow draped over the savage's still body. His head was leant to the side. Thick fat chunks popped out his stomach, covered in goo. I slurped up my saliva. The sight mesmerized me.

After letting out a squeal, I allowed my trembling hands to scrape blood in my nail. The sweet, sweet liquid was centimeters away from my tongue when a heel slammed into the side of my face.

I slipped off the body, my head meeting the ground for the millionth time today.