“Beaumont has over 100,000 people squeezed into an eighty-five square mile radius,” Mason said. “They turned most of the population, but not all of them. The rest are here.”
“What…is this?” Sandra asked, her voice almost a whisper.
“It’s a farm,” Mason said. “A blood farm. Don’t ask me how they do it, but they put these people in some kind of coma. They don’t wake up. Ever. Then they…well, you know what they do.”
“They feed on them?”
“Ding ding, give the lady a cookie.”
It wasn’t until Sandra said the word “feed” that Blaine noticed the teeth marks along the arms of the woman in front of him. Not just her arms, but along the sides of her neck as well. He imagined there must have been more, but her clothes covered up the rest. He turned slightly to look at an old man wearing shorts next to the woman and saw similar markings along his arms and legs.
We’re their food. This is what happens to food. You store it, then you feed on it when you’re hungry.
I think I’m going to throw up.
Next to him, Blaine could almost feel Sandra’s entire body trembling slightly.
“They’re alive?” Blaine asked.
“They’re breathing, yeah,” Mason said. “As to whether they’re really still alive?” Mason shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
“No one’s ever woken up,” the cowboy said behind them.
“So they just feed on these people…over and over?” Sandra asked. “And you let them?”
“Let them?” Mason almost laughed. “I guess you could put it that way. We just do the grunt work. Keep the place secured during the day while they sleep. At night, well, we try to stay out of their way.”
“And what happens then?” Blaine asked.
“What happens to what?”
“To the rest of you when night falls?”
“Nothing. They leave us alone. That’s the deal.”
Sandra looked over at Mason, then back at the cowboy, then over at the other two in the hazmat suits. “And you’re fine with this? All of you? Leaving these people to be…victimized over and over every night?”
They stared back at her with blank faces, though Blaine detected a slight movement in the woman’s face behind the gas mask just before she looked away.
Sandra focused her stare on Mason. “How could you do this? To your own kind?”
If she had expected Mason to retreat, Sandra would have been disappointed.
Instead, Mason glared back at her. “It’s a new world, honey. We’re doing what we have to in order to stay alive.” Mason drew his Browning automatic and held it at his side, then looked at Sandra before shifting his dark black eyes over at Blaine. “The question is: what are the two of you willing to do in order to survive?”
“He’s desperate for us to join him,” Blaine said, later, when they were back in the Sortys employee lounge.
Sandra nodded. She sat on the sofa, rubbing her hands together as if she were cold. “Why, do you think?”
“Maybe he’s running out of people. There’s only five of them. Mason, the cowboy, the third guy, and the two on the second floor. It explains why they didn’t risk attacking Will and the others. Not enough people to start a fight they don’t know they can win.”
There was a window above them, too small to escape through. Not that Blaine thought they could have gotten far anyway, without weapons or a car. There was a reason Mason had put them back in here. They weren’t going anywhere except through the door, and there was a guard outside named Lenny. He was the third man from Cavender’s.
They had two options that Blaine could see: join up or be killed. Mason had shown surprisingly little interest in harming Sandra, which both comforted and disturbed him. Sandra was not the kind of woman you ignored. At least, not after the first few minutes of being in the same room with her. But Mason revealed zero inclinations toward her, and neither had the cowboy, though Blaine had noticed Lenny stealing a glance at her when he had taken up position outside the door earlier.
Blaine’s mind returned, as it had every other second of the last thirty minutes, to the people on the second floor.
Thousands. There has to be thousands up there…
“We can’t, Blaine,” Sandra said after a while. “I won’t do it.”
“We don’t have any choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“They’re probably not going to kill us, Sandra. They’re going to give us to the ghouls. They’re going to add us to those people up there. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
She looked down at her hands. “I can’t, Blaine. I’d rather die than be a part of this. I don’t ever want to become like Mason, taking the easy road out. But I also don’t want to become like those people on the second floor. Do you understand?”
He nodded. “I understand.”
Blaine took the bottle of Tramadol from his pocket and shook out two, gulping them down without bothering to swallow. Mason had given him back his pills, though Blaine didn’t for a second believe the man was being altruistic. Mason wanted to turn them to his side, and letting him die didn’t figure into those plans.
“How long does it usually take for those things to work?” Sandra asked.
“A few minutes.”
“How many do you have left?”
He looked into the bottle at the dozen or so pills. “Not many…”
“There should be some over-the-counter painkillers around the mall. They won’t be the same, but …”
“Yeah,” he said, saving her the trouble of lying to him.
They looked over at the door as the doorknob turned. The door opened and a woman entered. They both instantly went quiet, and the woman stopped for a moment, like she had just barged into a room with two conspirators. Which wasn’t far from the truth.
She had short brown hair and brown eyes, and she looked much smaller without the hazmat suit. She wore cargo pants and a T-shirt like the others and had a gun belt around her waist, though it looked too big for her frame. She closed the door behind her, then pulled out bags of Doritos from a brown plastic bag and tossed them over.
“They’re a bit stale, but they’re edible,” the woman said. “It’s as good as you’re going to get around here, despite whatever Mason told you.”
Blaine remembered how the woman had looked away from Sandra’s accusing stare back on the second floor. She was the only one.
“Thanks,” he said. “Do you have a name?”
“Maddie.”
“I’m Blaine, this is Sandra.”
Maddie nodded and turned to go.
“Is it worth it, Maddie?” Sandra asked.
The question stopped Maddie, and she turned to look back at Sandra. Blaine realized she was much younger than he had thought. Late twenties, though she wasn’t wearing any makeup and that made her look slightly older. She was pretty, but in the same room with Sandra, you could get away with calling her homely.
“Is what worth it?” Maddie asked.
“Selling out the human race,” Sandra said. “Is it worth it?”
“It’s either this or become one of the people on the second floor. Or one of them. Honestly, I don’t know which is worse, and I hope to never find out.”
“Can we trust him?” Blaine asked. “Mason. Can we trust what he says?”
“Mason’s an asshole,” Maddie said. “But yeah, you can trust him on this. We lost a couple of guys a few months ago, so we’re short-handed. More and more people with guns are rolling through this place every week. Most of them are smart enough not to risk searching a mall, but you get the occasional idiots, and we have to deal with that.”
“What happened to those guys that came into town before us?” Blaine asked, hoping to sound just uninterested enough to not make her suspicious.