No Man's Land Read Online Free PDF

They wouldn’t heal at all if she wasn’t able to eat. Her stomach growled, and she realized that the continual nausea wasn’t from her head injury but the lack of food.
    Great. She was starving, in a trailer in God–knows–where. What she wouldn’t give for a human right now, although feeding without fangs would be a problem. She could cut her victim open with a knife and lap the blood like a dog, but it would be a struggle. The venom in her glands had been more than a numbing agent and an anti–coagulant; it was also a narcotic, giving the human a rush of ecstasy followed by mild short–term memory loss. Without her fangs, feeding would be a violent affair, and she’d probably need to kill the human afterward. Not that there were any humans within grabbing distance. Besides, she was in no condition to wrestle her meal to the ground and hold them still as she dined.
    They hadn’t killed her, and although this wasn’t exactly the Hilton, it was a reasonable shelter. Maybe her family had also left her some food. Kelly made her way slowly over to the fridge and opened it, blinking as the light temporarily blinded her. It was empty except for one item; a raw steak.
    Steak. Kelly frowned at the meat neatly wrapped in plastic on a Styrofoam tray. Were they taunting her? A packet of fresh human blood would have meant all was forgiven and that she was to wait here for them to eventually bring her back. But a steak? Vampires ate solid food for hundreds of years before the need for it tapered off, but she required human blood in order to properly metabolize this food. She’d been so injured that she wasn’t even sure she could digest this without a few pints to wash it down. Animal blood would help, but there wasn’t enough of it in this package to kick–start her healing. And animal blood wouldn’t hold her for long. Did they intend for her to starve to death? Was this a sign of eventual forgiveness, or a cruel reminder of a short, agonizing future?
    Taking the Styrofoam and plastic–wrapped package from the shelf, Kelly looked at the date. It was fresh by human standards, not fresh enough by vampire standards. Her heart sank, but it was no time to for an internal debate over the meaning of this strange offering and whether she’d ever be welcomed back into her family. Right now, this steak was all she had.
    “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Kelly said out loud, slurring the words with her mangled mouth as she ripped open the package.
    She ate the steak raw, wincing as bits jabbed into the empty sockets where her fangs should have been. The thing had been slaughtered months ago and frozen since. It was horrible, but it was the only food in the house. Finishing the two–pound steak, Kelly carefully poured the blood from the plate into a glass and licked the plate clean. She had no idea where or when her next meal would come from.
    She eyed the glass of blood thoughtfully. Saving the blood in the fridge would allow her sustenance for later, but there was a good chance it would be undrinkable by tomorrow. She picked up the glass and threw the blood as a shot down her throat. Normally the taste filled her with peaceful satisfaction — a flood of flavors, warm and sensuous on her tongue. This stuff was cold and congealed. Nasty, but it would keep her going.
    Kelly rinsed the dishes then carefully peeled off her bloody clothing, washing it in the sink as best as she could before draping it across the counter and the chairs to dry. She freshened up a bit in the bathroom then collapsed into the lumpy bed, convinced she’d be covered in bed bug bites by morning. Reasonably full, and with throbbing pain from the empty holes in her mouth, she drifted off to sleep.

5
    B ang, bang. Bang, bang, bang .
    Don’t hit me! I’m sorry, please don’t hit me! Elizabeth cringed, covering her head as Cook flung another pot at her. It hit the table, ricocheting off the wall behind and onto the floor. She’d be blamed for the dented