Feeder
The buzz felt good.
Billy Hunter didn’t go to restaurants often, but when his old classmate invited him to be his guest at a Chinese buffet, Billy jumped at the chance. The scorpion bowls – how many did he have? – went down smoothly. He stifled a yawn and said, “Sure was nice to see you again, Walter.”
“Walker,” the other man corrected him.
“Sorry,” Billy replied. “I was surprised when you called. I haven’t seen you since high school.”
Walker Katz nodded from behind the wheel. “That’s right,” he responded.
Katz’s quick replies were making Billy – a born talker – uneasy. “Thanks for driving me home,” he said. “I think I had one too many scorpion bowls. Didn’t want to risk getting pulled over.”
“My pleasure.”
“One of my neighbors will help me get my car back tomorrow.”
“You’re not married?”
“Never had the staying power,” Billy answered. “You?”
“Divorced.”
“Too bad.”
“Sometimes it’s for the best.”
Billy felt the need to keep the conversation going. “Nice car,” he said. “You must be doing pretty well.”
“I’m. . . ‘comfortable,’” Katz answered. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
“Yeah, it was great. I must admit, though,” he confessed, “I’m not sure I remember you from school. Were we friends?”
“We weren’t,” Walker reminded him. “You were pretty mean to me.”
“Was I?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Not really,” Hunter said dismissively. “We were kids.”
“That doesn’t excuse everything.”
The nausea came over him quickly. “Say, uhm. . . could you pull over?” he pleaded.
“Why?”
“I think those scorpion bowls are getting to me.”
“Feeling funny?” Walker asked. “Tingly all over?”
“Yeah. How –”
“Right on time.” By the light of the full moon, Billy saw a Grinch-like smile take over Walker’s face. “Ah,” he continued, turning onto a gravel road, “we’re here.” Katz drove to where there was not a shred of light and parked.
“Where’s here?” Hunter asked, the taste of fear fighting with the taste of vomit for space in his mouth.
“Arms and legs numb?” Walker asked, already knowing the answer.
“H-How do you –”
“The drugs are kicking in,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What?”
“Don’t you remember what I told you over dinner? I run my own pharmaceutical firm.” Walker reached over Hunter and opened the car door wide. “Get out!” he ordered.
“I. . . I can’t move,” Billy said, starting to sweat.
“Then let me ‘help’ you.” With a loud grunt, Walker shoved Billy from the car. He landed in a heap on the gravel, stinging sweat rolling into his eyes. “Don’t go anywhere,” Katz joked. “I just need to get my bag.”
~~~OOO~~~
Naked, Billy shivered in the cool air. Walker had dragged him into the woods, dropped him on a pile of leaves, and stripped him. Unable to move to see his companion, Katz was only a voice to Billy. “Give me back my clothes,” Hunter said.
“Relax.”
“I can’t move. What the hell else am I supposed to do?”
“I’ll burn them later,” Katz told him. “Don’t want any evidence.”
Billy decided this was a very good time to suck up. “Walker, old pal,” he began nervously, “whatever this is about –”
Katz was astonished. “‘Whatever this is about?’ This is about revenge, ‘old pal.’ Sweet, long-awaited revenge for how you treated me in school.”
“I don’t even remember you.”
“I remember you: The name calling, the abuse, the humiliation, all because I wasn’t the athletic type like you. It’s burned into my mind.”
“I’m. . . I’m sorry,” Billy responded quickly.
“Too late.”
Billy tried in vain to move his head when he heard Walker reach into his backpack. Katz took a few steps toward him so Hunter could see him slightly. He was holding something. “What’s that?” Billy asked, sweating more.
“Honey. Lie still.” Smiling, Walker squeezed the sweet stuff from the bear-shaped bottle all over Billy’s naked form. Hunter tried to say something, but he coughed from swallowing some honey. “I told you to be still,” Walker reminded him, dropping the empty bottle to the ground. He removed a large paper bag from his pack. “My own ‘special’ mixture,” he went on. “Birdseed and bread crumbs.”
“You’re insane!”
Gleefully, Walker shook the bag’s contents all over Hunter’s sticky body, being sure to put extra near his eyes and crotch.
“Soon,” Katz said, “the sun will rise. The drugs will render you immobile even after your visitors arrive.”
“V-V-Visitors?”
“The creatures of the forest. Oh, you’ll be a sweet treat for them!”
“You’re lying.”
“I’ve been planning this for weeks,” Katz said proudly. “I’ve come here every morning and left food out. When I return, it’s always gone. The animals will be expecting breakfast soon.”
“You can’t –” Billy managed to say before coughing fitfully.
“Throat starting to close up?”
Hunter cleared his throat and answered, “A little.”
“It’s the drugs. They’re colorless and tasteless, so you didn’t notice them in that last scorpion bowl.”
“Walker,” Billy pleaded hoarsely, “you can’t do this.”
“It’s done.”
“You’ll be caught.”
Walker had to laugh. “How?”
“The waiters at the restaurant,” Hunter went on before stopping to cough again. “When I go missing –”
“I’ve never been there before. They don’t know me from Adam. Also,” he said, gesturing at his face, “this hair and mustache – fakes.”
“They’ll trace your credit card.”
“I paid cash.”
“Your car!”
“It’s stolen. The cell I called you on was a burner, and I was certain to phone until I reached you. No voicemail message to incriminate me.” Billy shivered and coughed again. “This place is well off the beaten path,” Walker went on. “Most people have forgotten it even exists. . . but the creatures know about it. It will take some time for you to die as they chew on your body for nourishment. By then, your voice will be totally gone.” He let out a chuckle and added, “You won’t be able to scream to relieve the pain.”
Hunter struggled to speak from atop the leaves. “Please don’t!”
“If you’re lucky, a bear will make a quick appetizer of you, but I hope not.”
Katz gathered everything up, including Hunter’s clothes, and put it all in the backpack. Certain the job was done, he zippered the bag and slung it over one shoulder. “Goodbye, Billy,” he said, starting to walk back to the stolen car.
Hunter managed a small, raspy, “Walker.”
At his name, Katz stopped and turned on his heel. “Chirp, chirp,” he said menacingly before walking away.
