Page 38 of Fresh Flesh

Maisie

Another snowstorm comesin a day later, and once again the trails are covered with a thick blanket of white.

The air is too cold and thin for the Zoomer to operate anyway, but I’m glad that we’re stranded. It gives me more time to spend with Joras.

I show Joras many things in the next two weeks as we explore the area surrounding the barn. The first thing I reveal is how to set snare traps for rabbits. It’s not nearly as easy as you might think. If you don’t get the knots tied just right, the rabbit will be able to pull its head or leg out.

Do it right, and your dinner will catch yourself. Joras is amazed.

“Such a simple trap, with simple, basic materials, and yet so ingenious.”

“It’s just a snare trap. There are a lot more elaborate ways to catch animals for dinner that we haven’t even touched yet. Most likely we won’t need to.”

“Still, I have often wondered how humanity was able to reach the levels of population they had with such primitive technology. Now I understand that your natural ingenuity is far greater than your low tech levels would otherwise suggest.”

I laugh and pat him on the shoulder.

“I think there was a compliment in there somewhere.”

Then I cock my head to the side and give him an intense look.

“Wait a minute, your people have had high technology for a very long time, haven’t they?”

“Yes, for longer than recorded history can attest.”

“Well, maybe your folk used to be just as ingenious as humans were, but that part of you atrophied away because you didn’t need it any longer.”

It would explain a lot. Like the fact the aliens haven’t considered other food sources than humans. I know they think they need to metabolize intelligent beings or they’ll get sick and die, but from what I can see that just isn’t the case.

For two weeks, we’re snowed in, and Joras eats nothing that doesn’t walk on four legs. He seems satisfied to me. In fact, he even seems healthier. I remember someone telling me once that a lot of wild animals don't like preying on humans because they’re not as nutritious as other mammals. Like sharks in the ocean think they’re chomping on a seal and get disappointed when it’s a surfer instead.

After the fortnight passes, the air carries a hint of warmth that says the snow might soon be melting. I turn to Joras and clear my throat.

“How are you feeling?”

His brow ridges rise high on his face, and a lecherous grin spreads over his face.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I know you’re always horny,” I say with a chuckle.

“And you are hardly one to say such a thing to me,” he replies jovially.

“Yes, I have a massive libido. What I mean is, how do you feel physically? As in, is your diet agreeing with you?”

His face scrunches up like he hadn’t really considered it.

“I suppose I feel just fine. My stomach seems to enjoy deer, rabbit, and even squirrel though the meat was a bit tough.” Joras smiles, and I feel a lot better about the whole ordeal. “In fact, I think I prefer animal flesh to human flesh. It’s more flavorful, more abundant, and unless I miss my guess, richer in nutrients.”

“Yes, humans are sixty percent water. So when you eat human flesh you’re mostly just getting filler.” I take a deep breath and plunge into the next topic. “Joras, do you think you could stop eating humans now? Now that you know there are alternatives?”

He considers it for a long moment. I wait, barely daring to breathe while he thinks it over.

“I suppose I could,” he says with a nod, much to my relief. “I always believed that Grengorans had to eat intelligent beings in order to survive. Obviously that is not the case.”

“And if you could, that means all the Grengorans could, right?”

He nods, as if not quite getting the point I’m trying to make.

“Don’t you see, Joras? Your people don’t have to eat my people. We could find a solution where the humans don’t have to be slaughtered.”

Joras nods sagely.

“I think it might be possible. I’m not sure if command will be so easily swayed as I am. Then again, if they try some of your venison sausage they might change their minds.”

“Yes,” I say, then come over to him and rub my hand on the growing lump in his crotch. “And speaking of sausage…”

We make love there in the barn, while the smokehouse burns and our skinned rabbits hang from the rafters to keep them away from rodents.

Maybe there could be hope for us all. Right now, I’m just grateful to be safe and happy in Joras’ arms.

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