Cold Ashes

Chapter 6 - Yellow

His voice shrank to a whisper. "You wouldn't dare."  

"Maybe not. It depends on how much extra gets put into that certain bag."  

"I can... I can put in an extra tin of stew that could be 'misplaced'."  

"Just a can?"  

"Any more and it'll get suspicious, alright? It's out of my hands."

A moment of consideration, Leah looked him up and down. Then she held out her hand with a slight smile. "You have a deal."  

Ryan wasn't paying attention to them. Instead he was looking beyond to a lonely figure shivering against garbage bins near the rear of the house. This man seemed lost, a relic from the lower parts of the city. He wore rags that hung off his body and sunken skin upon his skeleton. It was obvious he hadn't eaten in at least a week. Probably more. 

As Ryan approached, the old figure looked up. Grey matted hair blinding his vision, parchment skin that seemed as dry as leather and cloudy white eyes. He expected fear in them. Instead, he saw acceptance. He saw relief. He saw the final breaths of life. The man's eyes glassed over, staring into a nothing that wasn't there anymore. His mouth remaining open, as if calling for nourishment that never would come. His chest did not rise again. 

"What's wrong?"  

"It's just..." Ryan couldn't keep his eyes off of the man. The dead man. "I haven't seen anyone die like that."  

"Like what?"  

For moments, he couldn't find the word. Confusion furrowed his brow, causing him to concentrate. Remembering his brother's in quick, cold flashes past his memory. "Peacefully."  

Leah looked to the old man. Without anything more to say, she slowly closed his eyes. He deserved more but that was all they could give. There was nothing more to be done.  

"Let's go." She muttered.  

"We're just gonna leave him?" He hissed. "Doesn't he get... I don't know, a burial? Anything?"  

"No." Leah, for a moment, looked sickened and almost wanted to throw up. Not because of the old man, but what he would eventually become. Food for the rich. "Let's just... go."  

"I don't want to just leave him."  

"You don't know him. You don't owe him anything."  

"Should I need to?" He asked, turning to her. "He died alone. The least we could do is give him a proper funeral."  

"Ryan, we can't stay-"  

"I'm not going anywhere." He muttered. "Not until I see some humanity in this place."  

Leah sighed as she glanced at the fresh corpse. "You know what'll happen, don't you? 'Humanity' won't just leave him like this."  

He didn't answer. 

"But you know that... Don't you?" 

He turned away. Suddenly losing interest for the corpse in the road.  

"You can ignore me all you want, I know the face of a cannibal."  

Ryan grabbed her shoulders and violently smashed her against the wall, pinning her there as he stared at her. He felt it in his veins... His body on fire and the visions he had of ripping her limb from limb. He could see the blood spurt and spit from the stumps of her arms, her screams and coughing against his inferno of anger and hate. His breathing rasped and became heavy, his heartbeat faster and faster.