Free The Flesh Eaters by L. A. Morse Page B

flesh with their knives and popping the pieces into their mouths. The younger children eat like dogs, crouching, attacking a thigh bone with their teeth. There is not much meat left, and two small children fight greedily for it, growling and grunting, snapping at each other with their teeth, clawing with their little fingers. Meg reaches down and gives each of them a hard slap.
    After the meal, their bellies full, Sawney Beane and Meg lie down to sleep. Often, at these times, when the urge is strong in him, Sawney Beane will hoist up Meg’s dress. He will squeeze her spreading breasts, lower himself between her heavy thighs. His fingers will dig into the cleft of her buttocks. A few quick thrusts—and then he will roll off her and go to sleep. Sometimes he takes her from behind, pulling her up onto her knees; he likes to feel the great weight of her breasts hanging down into his hands. The children always watch this activity with interest.
    Today, however, Sawney Beane and Meg just go to sleep, as do some of the children. Others groom themselves, in pairs. One child sits in front of another. The one to the rear examines his partner’s scalp, separating the tangled, dirty locks, looking for lice and other insects. These are picked out and crushed. Then the children exchange places.
    The younger children play a game of ambush. One child is selected to be the victim. He or she dresses up in an absurd parody of a real victim, wearing many items of fancy clothing, all far too large, and loaded down with rings and necklaces. The other children stalk the victim, hiding behind barrels and piles of goods.
    Then they attack, roughly, viciously. As in real life, the prey never escapes. Always, the girls play as savagely as the boys, giving and taking punishment with equal vigor and stoicism.
     
    An evening: The older children are grouped in a circle on the far side of the cave, away from Sawney Beane. Their discussion is animated, but they whisper so as not to be overheard. Eventually they reach a decision and, after much shuffling, cross the cave to where Sawney Beane sits.
    First Hunter leads the group, followed closely by his brother Second Hunter and his oldest sister, Girl Hunter.
    First Hunter has grown into a tall, gangling youth who moves with considerable awkwardness. His sunken cheeks are accentuated by a large, bulbous nose that seems to spread over his entire face. Huge red pustules cover the pasty whiteness of his face and neck. His small, closely-set eyes reveal viciousness, but little intelligence. First Hunter is the leader because he is the oldest, but he lacks the ability for leadership and compensates with an overwhelming slobbering nastiness.
    Second Hunter is small and dark, his body lithe and graceful. He is the most intelligent of all the offspring, and his hooked hose and bright, dark eyes give him the look of a falcon. He is smart enough to know that he must defer to First Hunter, but he has also learned how to work his own will through his older brother.
    Girl Hunter is two years younger than First Hunter, one year younger than Second Hunter. She looks much like Meg looked at this age, except that her body is slimmer and smaller. She has lost the angularity of childhood, and with the changes in her body she has come to savor the new experiences and sensations that are opening up to her. She, too, is learning how to use First Hunter for her own purposes.
    The children stand silently before Sawney Beane, uncomfortable as he pretends not to notice them. They shuffle uneasily until he raises his head and fixes them with a cold stare.
    “What is this?”
    They shrink’ back from the malevolence of his gaze. The silence grows even more oppressive, and then Girl Hunter pokes First Hunter to respond.
    “We want to start hunting by ourselves,” First Hunter blurts.
    Sawney Beane continues to stare, showing no reaction.
    Seeing that her brother will say nothing more, Girl Hunter speaks. “We can do it. You know