When the sun rises I go into the kitchen, four dead bodies in a pile. Their blood is everywhere, but I couldn't care less. I need to clean and gut them before they start rotting. I find four towel racks in the bathroom, move them to the kitchen, and pray they can hold a hundred pounds each. I tie one child to a rack. The metal groans and bends, but doesn't break. Thank the nine. I quickly tie the other ones up to different racks. Then, I rummage around the kitchen and find some odd objects. A saw under the sink, some rope in a cupboard, and some handcuffs in the trash (who the hell keeps these things around?). Odd, but all of these items could come in handy. Then, I find some more sensible items. Four bowls, five spoons, and a butcher's knife. The butcher's knife is actually perfect for what I have in mind. I walk over to the corpse, decide which one to clean first, and chop off his head. I place the cranium to the side for later, then watch as some blood slowly seeps from the corpse. Damn, I should have found a bucket. Oh well, I can always tell the survivor I was gutting coons. And, I can still clean this mess up before the teenager sees. To see this mess she would have to be able to walk, and she isn't walking any time soon. When the blood is drained I begin to remove all the bones I can reach, then begin stripping the child's arms of his flesh and meat. I make a pile on the floor for the bones I remove.
A separate pile for the meat and flesh is on the counter, but now I have a problem. I need to remove his organs that we can't eat. I sigh as I go to work. It takes a while to gut him, but eventually it's done. I throw the guts out the window, then curse myself when I realize that might attract zombies. The cabin is raised off the ground, so I can't retrieve the organs. Damn. I turn back to the corpse and see his empty torso, a few bones still inside. I groan and go about removing all of the bones from his body, avoiding his legs. I'll take care of those later. Now he's just two bone filled legs, a decapitated head, and a hanging pile of bloody meat and skin. I begin chopping his flesh into manageable chunks and slices, adding the meat to the pile. Finally, the corpse is reduced to two legs. I quickly remove the bones, chop the meat into pieces, and add them to the pile. I'm sweating horribly from the exertion, so I take a moment to relax and look at my work. A pile of bones, a pile of meat with flesh on it, and a decapitated head. I can boil the bones later to make them edible, and the water will make a nice bone broth. Now, I have to take care of the meat. He hardly has any fat, but we can burn it if need be. So, I eat a can of turkey, shove the meat into the tin, and do my best to seal the container. It's not wonderful, but it'll keep hungry ants out.
His flesh is another matter. Can we eat that? I don't think so. Can I tan the skin and make it into leather? No. I don't know how, I don't have the supplies needed to do that, and the flesh is broken up into small areas. I cut a chunk of flesh off and feel it. I'll go ahead and cook it, I can always remove it if it doesn't end up helping. I also added a few edible organs to the pile (heart, lived, kidney, etc.), but I know how to properly cook them. Good, now all I have to worry about is the head. I can prepare the eyes, brain, and meat on his face into edible dishes, but I have a major problem. What if the survivor realizes she's gulping down human stew? Then, I decide I'll simply lie or chop the meat into tiny cubes. I strip the skull of its meat, pluck out the eyes, and yank out his brain and tongue. The blood that collected in his head is splattering my clothes and skin, but I ignore it. I'll clean up later before I feed the survivor. Finally, all that's left is the skull. I can't feed the survivor this. I'll snap the other bones in half before I cook them, so she doesn't realize they're human bones. But the skull would need to be shatter to be unrecognizable, and then it wouldn't cook right. Probably, I'm truly guessing on most of this. It helps to think of him as a deer or pig. I focus back on the skull in my hand and throw it out the window, the skull knocking a zombie on the head. Seems the bastards found the organs. Oh well, they're going to get a lot more over the next few hours. One child is completely cleaned and ready to cook, but I have three more to go. I sigh, pull out my knife, and go back to work.
As I work I think. Is this what it's really come to? Eating children simply because there's no other food? I remember near the start of the virus outbreak I found a cult of people (similar to the one I found today) who ate children. I shot them all and looked at their bodies with disgust, but there were other details I ignore. Every single member of the cult was thin, they had no food on them, and the smell of the cooking flesh was getting to me. But I had (a small amount of) food, and I refused to dine on the flesh of a human. Now I'm cutting up four children to eat. If my younger self could see me now she would vomit in disgust. I'm calmly sticking my hand inside a little girl's chest, fishing around for her heart. What else can I do? We need food. Surely this isn't as bad as I think it is. They tried to kill me! It was fight or die, and they just happened to die! If we didn't eat them, then some zombie would. I'm just saving them from lying around and rotting as the living dead slowly gnaw on them. Besides, the survivor is eating people to. She might not know it, but she is. Then, I realize what I'm doing. I'm trying to defend cannibalism! I feel loathing and shame swell in my gut, but I ignore it and keep cleaning. As I clean the children's bodies I keep quietly chanting, "We need food. We need food.". But in the back of my mind there's a small whisper that asks, 'At what cost?".
Survivor POV:
I'm lying in bed, my injured leg propped up on some pillows. I'm reading a pamphlet on Branson (I found it in the dresser beside me), but I'm most interested in the map on the back. It shows the surrounding area. Inner Branson is to our west, the lake is to our south, the outskirts are to our north, and a hospital is to our east. Then, Delphine walks in with a steaming bowl of something. I smile as she hands me the food. As I begin to eat she tells me, "I was able to start a fire on the balcony without anything going up in flames.". I spoon the soup, chunks of meat in the liquid. I put a spoon full in my mouth, then manage to slur out, "What is this?". Delphine tells me, "Coon.". Then, she leaves and returns with her own bowl. She instantly digs in, eating like a starved dog. I can't blame her, the stew is delicious! When I get to the bottom of the bowl I notice a few tiny bones, and when I question my elder about it she answers, "I stewed them, they should be edible. You don't have to eat them, but the calcium will help your bone mend faster and stronger.". Damn, I hadn't thought about that. I spoon the bones into my mouth, surprised at the taste. It's surprisingly decent and enjoyable to eat. Like pieces of candy my stepmother use to give me on my birthday. Not in flavor, but in the fact that it actually taste good. Most of the food in this world is canned, spoiled, or rotten. When the stew is done I place the bowl on the dresser, and when Delphine is done she takes the dishes back into the kitchen for later.
When Delphine returns she instantly begins undressing my wound, the first aid kit beside her. I'm not sure what to expect, but it isn't the concerned look on her face. Delphine curses and tells me, "Your bone and skin are fine. Well, besides being broken and cut. Anyway, your muscles are becoming inflamed and swelling. Those are the first signs of infection.". I feel fear grip my heart and I ask her, "Is there anything we can do.". She considers if there's an answer, then tells me, "We can always go to Kansas City and beg to be admitted to the city. Their security is ten times as tough as Oklahoma City, so we could never escape. But if it means your life, then I'm willing to do it. I suppose I could carry you or find a bike or-". She suddenly falls silent and snatches the map from my side. She cracks a smile and tells me, "I don't think we'll have to worry about that. This is great! There's a hospital half a mile from here! I can grab some antibiotics, pain killers, disinfectants, and some tools to stitch you up with.". I instantly tell her, "No. It's too dangerous.". She scoffs and tells me, "I can handle it. Trust me, I've been fighting zombies since before you were born.". I inwardly groan, tell her she's wrong, and continually argue with her. The fight goes on for a few minutes, then Delphine sighs and tells me, "You're right. Just promise me one thing.". I instinctively ask, "What?". In an instant Delphine lunges forward, pulls some handcuffs from her pocket, and chains me to the bed. She smirks and tells me, "Promise me you won't be mad. Now, I'll be back in a day or two. I'll break the cuffs when I get back. I'll return before you get hungry or need to pee. Wish me luck!". She struts away, leaving me cursing and yanking at my handcuffed wrist.
Delphine POV:
The gigantic building in front of me is in a horrible condition. It's leaning, all of the windows are shattered, plants have overtaken the side of it, and it looks ready to collapse in on itself. I nervously swallow. I managed to avoid any zombies or cultist on the way here (I'm just guessing there are still some cultist), but there's no telling what's inside. I had the foresight to bring a torch, but that might not help me in the tremendous building. The teenager is probably mad at me, but if I went back now she might forgive me. I curse myself for being a coward. It's just a big building. Nothing else. The teenager needs the medicine inside (if there is any), and I'm the only one who can get it for her. I slowly go inside, the darkness surrounding me.