Less Than Human Read Online Free Page A

Yeah, yeah. You fucking people are crazy, you know that?” Jason chuckled somewhat madly. “There's only one way out of his place, man. And that's if those redneck motherfuckers drag you out.”
    “ Well, we better find another one.” Ben looked around the room, surveying their worried faces. They wore looks of despair. “Because what's headed our way... is a lot worse than what those apes upstairs have planned for us...”
     

 
     
     
     
     
               CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    TWO DAYS AGO...
    I t had been over a week since Ben Ackerman felt alive. The past few days consisted of ambling back and forth between the couch and his bed. He was still unable to keep a meal down, which led to many trips to the bathroom. Salty crackers seemed to be the only food his stomach didn't reject. The beginnings of a beard started to bother him. He hoped to find the strength to erase it soon.
    Ben found himself in front of the bedroom mirror, appearing too thin. Much too thin . The emaciated reflection of himself was barely recognizable. The bathroom scale informed him that he had lost over twenty pounds since he got sick. Jesus. The number was alarming considering he was under his average weight before he started his saltine-only diet.
    Despite his frail frame, Ben felt much better. He had an appetite, which relieved him greatly. The thought of eggs and sausage made his mouth water and his stomach growl.
    After he ate, Ben decided to retrieve his mail. He wondered how large the collection had grown over the past week and how many bills awaited his arrival. Since the sickness hit him full force, this was first time he stepped foot outside. Slowly, Ben trudged toward the mailbox, shielding his eyes from blinding sunlight. Although he felt better, his muscles remained stiff from inactivity. Ben's eyes were still acclimated to the dim indoor lighting, burning with intensity when sunlight hit them. It would be a few more days before he felt one-hundred percent again, however, he was thankful to be on his feet. Ben had never been a sit-around-the-house kind of guy. If his free time wasn't spent grading papers or editing stories for the local newspaper, he was doing yard work or fixing up the old Mustang, which currently took up most of the room in his garage. That and hundreds of tools forced Ben to park his blue Sonata in the driveway.
    Ben grabbed the pile of mail from the mailbox, flipped through the envelopes lazily. Electric bill. Water bill. Lawyer bill. Doctor bill. Oh, a Chowmart Ad. Nothing interesting, nothing that required immediate attention. He wedged the envelopes under his arm, journeying back toward the house. His legs ached like he had ran a marathon. The flu had gotten the best of him, hit him real hard. He couldn't remember the last time he was that ill. Doctor Dillon had called in a prescription to help, but really the only thing to do was rest and wait it out. “You'll start feeling better in about week,” he had told Ben over the phone. And sure enough, today, he felt much better.
    As Ben dragged himself across the front porch, he noticed suburban life around him was fairly quiet, which seemed odd for summertime. The street was eerily grim, void of the everyday outdoor functions. It was like everyone had up and left. Maybe they're all on vacation, Ben thought. Or at the beach. It was, after all, the first week of summer vacation, the first week the kids had off from school. People were most likely out and about, doing things that involved cool water and catching sun-rays. Especially since Red River was only a five-mile hike from the shore. The beach was probably packed, every grain of sand occupied. Although Ben hated trips to the beach since childhood, even he admitted today was the perfect day for sand and sun.
    But...
    Surely there should be someone outside; the kids from down the block riding their bikes; Mr. Weathers from across the street letting his dog out to shit on the sidewalk; the always