Miguel had watched as people died by the hundreds. Like many others, he was plagued by guilt for surviving what he thought was the end of everything.

During his early life, religion had been a comfort but today, those thoughts had long gone.

He lived beyond the town, within a caravan that was bare fit of food or other essentials. As he gazed around after a week of terrible hunger, he knew that only one option remained.

“There must be others like me,” he hissed. “I just can’t sit here and starve to death.”

He ventured outside for the first time in a week, gazing at the surrounding wilds of the countryside.

“Let’s go and find something.”

He closed the caravan door and lurched into the undergrowth, scanning wildly for rabbits, snakes or anything that moved. He stopped when he saw the birds within the trees.

“How do I get them?”

He reached the trunk and saw the high branches.

“I’ll never climb that.”

He cursed and moved further from his home, vanishing into bushes that covered this side of the hills.

A sound of laughter brought him to an immediate halt.

“Am I dreaming?”

He crouched down and gazed toward the small stream. Two young kids not more than fourteen were splashing around in the clear water.

“Lucky devils,” he hissed.

He watched them at play, just two young boys having a great time in the midst of global tragedy.

He stared at them, his stomach rumbling loudly.

“I’ve no choice mate,” he reasoned with himself. “I won’t last much longer with any sustenance.”

He crept forward toward the stream and saw the scattered clothes.

“I need to do this pretty quickly.”

As the kids threw water at each other, he rushed from the bush screaming like an animal. The two boys turned as he threw himself at them. The first was grabbed by the hair and pushed under, while the second was struck savagely in the jaw.

The blow knocked the lad out but his friend tried fighting back. Miguel dragged the lad to the bank and throttled him, before wading back in and dragging out his friend. A cursory exam confirmed that he had drowned.

“I certainly won’t starve now,” he muttered.

He carried each body back to his caravan before laying it down carefully. As he stood rubbing his bearded chin, his mind began working out the next step.

“I think that I have what I need.”

He entered the van and searched through his meagre belongings.
Within a small box, he found the saw and carried it outside.

“Now just a little trimming may help.”

He gritted his teeth and knelt by the first corpse. Placing the blade across the weak throat, he began sawing slowly. As the blood flowed, he tried ignoring it, his mind finding solitude in pleasant thoughts.

Removing the head did not take too long and he tossed it off into the long grass. He scratched his head and tended to the abdomen. The blade opened it up quickly and he dragged out the viscera of the intestines carefully.

He carried them to a bucket where he carefully washed the useless material before cutting them into small sausages. He returned to the corpse and locating the kidneys, began to remove them with the saw blade.

Taking them to the bucket, he washed carefully before dicing the bloody meat. Taking chunks into his palm, he stuffed the intestinal sausages before placing these into another pot.

Turning the camp cooker on took moments and he watched as the meal heated up.

His attention turned to the chest area and he opened it up easily enough. However, the blade refused to split the rib cage and he gave up soon after.

The meat was boiling nicely as the saw cut through the thighs before removing the lower foot. The muscles were pliable and would make a more substantial meal later.

Miguel removed the pot from the flame and removed his sausages slowly before placing them upon a plastic plate. As he ate slowly, he hissed and gasped with pleasure.

“No one should miss those blighters,” he muttered as the meal continued.

When he was finished, he continued butchering the bodies until he had a pretty good supply that would last at least a few days.

“I’ll have to eat it quickly,” he reasoned. “This damn heat will turn it in no time.”

He placed the thigh meat and the liver into the pot before stirring slowly.

“What this lacks is salt.”

He found that inside his van and sprinkled it liberally into the mix. The actual cooking took about forty minutes and when it was done, he settled down to allow it to cool.

Disposing of the dismembered but inedible bits was easy enough. He tossed the second head into the tall grass while burying the remainder at the rear of the van.

He rubbed his palms vigorously, his wild eyes watching the meal to come.
...
The women had reached the outskirts of Matanzas, the coastal town they had washed up near too.

“Seems pretty quiet here,” Cheryl noted.

“We should find ourselves a store and bring the flour back,” Mandy reminded her.

“It’s weapons we need. I feel so ruddy naked without at least a hand gun.”

Mandy shook her head.

“You won’t find any here my dear. An army base will be well stocked. Not today though.”

They had reached the high street and stood gazing at a clothes store.

“Come on,” Cheryl suggested. “We need a new supply.”

The door was unlocked and the stock remained untouched. As they checked through the denim jackets and jeans, a lone youth wandered past.

“What do you think?” Cheryl asked.

Mandy smiled.

“Good choice.”

Cheryl was about to place the clothes inside a bag when she spotted the youth.

“Hang on a moment.”

She dashed out and said, “Hello there.”

The youth backed away in obvious fear.

“We are not a threat,” Cheryl said slowly. “Would you like to join us?”

The tall lad was only seventeen and his dusty clothes suggested rough living.

“I’m Cheryl.”

The language barrier was proving a problem and the lad rolled his eyes.

“Come inside?” she tried.

The youth smiled and followed her back into the store.

“Look who I found.”

Mandy had finished the selection and smiled at their new companion.

“He would be useful on the farm. Does he speak English?”

Cheryl shook her head and said, “I’ll try and find a phrase book. I think we have everything we need now.”

The youth offered to carry the bags as they reached the traffic lights. At the left stood a travel store, and they found the phrase book easily enough.

“Now let me see,” Cheryl said slowly. “Ah...You come with us?”

The lad nodded and replied in his native tongue. The women looked at each other blankly and giggled.

A little further on stood the food store and they managed to locate the flour. Another bag was borrowed and quickly filled with tin meat and vegetables.

Once it became rather heavy to carry the shopping trip ended.

“Perhaps a car would help?” Mandy suggested.

Cheryl was doubtful about that.

“At present we only know the path toward the farm. If we follow the roads we are liable to get lost.”

“A map then.”

“Later eh. We can soon have this treasure trove back. Let’s go eh?”

The return was a little slower but after an hour, it was obvious that they were lost.

“Do you remember that line of bushes?” Mandy asked.

Cheryl shook her head.

“We must be over to the left somewhere. We dare not get caught after dark.”

A sudden voice brought them to a halt.

“This is my land.”

A wild looking man suddenly appeared from the bushes, and the hunting rifle looked real enough.

“You speak English then,” the cop commented.

“Emigrated fifteen years ago,” Miguel replied. “What are you doing here?”

Mandy blushed.

“Would you believe lost?”

Miguel smiled.

“It’s too easy around here to find yourself lost ladies. I know these parts. Where were you trying to reach?”

He looked trustworthy and the women gave a description of the farm.

“That was the Rose farm once. It’s about two miles that way,” he said pointing.

“Thanks for the tip mate,” Mandy said.

They turned to the left and began the hike home as Miguel watched with mounting interest.

“There goes another meal.”
...
By the time they returned to the farm, they knew his name. A rather fitting one for such a youthful lad.

“If Conchello would like to follow me,” Mandy said pointing to the rear door.

The youth followed as Mandy collected a plastic bucket.

“Where are you two off to?”

“Just to milk the cow dear. Shouldn’t take too long.”

When they reached the field, she pointed.

“You watch.”

He seemed to understand that as she arranged the milking stool that he carried.

She gripped the udders tightly and began the squeeze, stroke technique that produced the desired result. After a moment, she stepped aside.

“Your turn now.”

The lad sat and carefully applied the pressure. As the milk squirted into the bucket, Mandy smiled happily.

“Not as difficult as it looks eh?”

The lad did not understand but continued squirting anyway.

As the bucket reached half full, she tapped his arm.

“You can stop now.”

He stood and carried it back as she lifted the stool. They found that Cheryl had changed into her denims and was thinking hard.

“You seem hard at it,” Mandy muttered.

“Just wondering if there are any wild strawberries around.”

“Why not go look? Cuba is famous for them.”

Cheryl smiled and left for the wilds. As she stepped out Mandy shouted, “Just don’t get lost.”

Conchello meantime was pointing to himself and gesticulating. As Mandy watched, she quickly realised what he meant.

“You want to wash. Follow me then.”

She found the water closet and pointed to the old metal shower.

“You can use that my friend. We have an aquifer here. No need for the mains.”

She left him too it as her friend walked among the trees, bushes and lovely plants.

“Such a gorgeous place here. No sign of the strawberries though.”

She walked through the wilds, keeping an eye on her route. Cheryl had no intention of getting lost a second time.

“Now this looks familiar.”

Ahead lay a line of bushes, and she wandered up. As she pushed through, her foot hit something hard.

“What the devil?”

She looked down and almost jumped.

“That’s a head.”

She gazed around and soon located a second. Being a cop of course, the ragged skin around the neck was obviously not animal wounds.

“Saw marks my girl. Someone did this deliberately.”

She crouched down to take a closer look when a sinister voice called out, “Sorry you had to see that.”

Cheryl stood and saw Miguel holding the gun.

“You did this?”

“I have to eat you know. Now move it!”

She watched the barrel as he marched her back to the van. As she passed the pot, the sickening contents were all too obvious.

“You crazy fool,” she muttered.

“You are the crazy one lass. Coming out here on your own.”

He prodded her inside and at the rear ordered her to sit.

“What do you intend doing with me?”

He smiled and licked his full lips.

“You can only guess. Now stay put.”

He turned and found a length of rope that he tossed at her.

“Now tie your legs to the bed.”

She decided to comply for the present, and was soon trussed up.
Miguel then took a cloth and used this to manacle the hands behind her back.

“We just need a gag now.”

He hunted around and soon found another piece of cloth that he stuffed into her mouth.

“There we are. Nice and quiet at last.”

He placed the weapon against the window and sat in front of his next meal.

“You are probably wondering why? As I pointed out I do have to eat my dear.”

He paused.

“If I could farm or catch animals that would be different I suppose.
I went without food for a whole week you see. Then the kids went dipping and so here we all are.”

She grimaced despite the gag.

“You may judge me if you like but it won’t matter. I guess you will provide some handsome cuts.”

He smiled and taking the weapon, popped outside once more.
...
Mandy had noted the passage of time upon the wall clock, and was getting rather worried for her friend.

“Over two hours have passed. Where could she have got to?”

As these thoughts passed through her mind, a call came from the water closet.

“He probably needs a bath towel.”

She found one inside the kitchen cupboard and took it through. As she entered, the youth covered himself with his hands and blushed profusely.

“I’m a nurse by the way. Dry yourself with this.”

She stepped out as Conchello dried himself and waited in the lounge with the phrase book. When he returned, she said carefully, “We have to find Cheryl now.”

He understood the Spanish of course and nodded. When they got outside, she gazed around.

“Problem is how the hell do we find her?”

Conchello must have felt her predicament for he started gazing at the ground. As he moved off, she followed.

“Proper little bloodhound,” she commented.

As she followed, Mandy noted the crushed undergrowth that the youth was tracking. They climbed into the hills and he turned right toward a line of thick bushes.

“I hope this won’t take too long,” Mandy muttered.

When they reached the bushes, the youth suddenly crouched down and pointed to the caravan.

When Mandy looked, she saw Cheryl at the rear window with a gag in her mouth.

“Damn it!”

The youth said, “Shush.”

“We have to free her,” Mandy whispered pointing at the van.

Conchello smiled and crept forward. When he was sure there was nobody around, he dashed for the door. Mandy caught up as he climbed inside.

“Thanks’,” the cop said after the gag was removed. “That bloke’s a nutter.”

“The one we met earlier?” Mandy asked.
Cheryl nodded.

“He ruddy well ate two kids. I found their severed heads.”

“We have to get you out of here,” Mandy said as the knots were removed.

The cop shook her head.

“We have to deal with him before he strikes again. Come on now.”

Mandy followed her outside and saw her gazing beneath the van.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something to crown him with.”

She pulled a crowbar from beneath the van and handled it carefully.

“This should do nicely.”

They returned to the van and waited with baited breath. Just before sunset, the killer returned with his weapon. He seemed a happy soul as he whistled away to himself.

“Hit him as soon as he opens the door,” Mandy whispered.

The man stopped a moment to stir his supper before reaching out for the handle. As he pushed it open, Cheryl sprang forward and smashed the bar over his unprotected head.

Miguel went down quickly and she jumped off the top step. As he writhed upon the ground in agony, the cop raised the bar and crushed his skull into a bloody paste.

“I think he’s dead,” Mandy whispered as the bar smashed down for the sixth time.

Cheryl nodded and grabbed the rifle.

“Check out the van for shells and then we will fire it.”

Miguel had three boxfuls and after these were removed, the van was doused in petrol before being set alight. They watched it burn before setting off for their new home.
...
“I think we need to talk about bedding arrangements,” Mandy said after their meal.

“I removed the couple’s remains this morning so Conchello should be safe enough.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Mandy whispered.

“You want a sex slave?”

“Why not? We could take turns.”

Cheryl blushed.

“Well I suppose you are right. You want to go first?”

Mandy nodded and took the youth’s hand.

“Come on lad and let me teach you about the birds and the bees.”