I watched with horror as my feet began to move toward the sound. Ears attuned to the silence, I heard more sounds; someone was trying to break open one of the containers. I approached, my feet instinctively silent. I edged around the massive end of one of the trailers and saw, under the belly of the container, three pairs of Levi-­clad legs. If any of the boys bent over, to pick something up or to tie a shoe, they would see me and I would surely be dead. One walked toward the back of the truck, whispering to the others. More whisperings, then another set of footsteps ech­oed off toward the cab of the truck. I followed the sound, keeping the truck between us.

The footsteps turned away from me, toward the bus station. I hid as I followed, stalking, and then he stopped and unzipped his pants and I heard the splash of urine against a tire.

It was one of the leather-­jacketed hoodlums who had stormed the bus station earlier in the evening. Three of them were intent on robbing the container and this one had momentarily split off from the pack.

I watched the strong stream of urine splash, steaming, as he wet the entire tire, then I could smell it, and it fired the frenzy that had already begun in my mind. Suddenly I was overcome with hunger; I felt an ancient, innate, dormant hunger awakening within. I felt my saliva glands ache with the promise of sweet­ness. Spittle overproduced and I wiped a corner of my mouth on my coat sleeve. I was flushed with excite­ment; my coat was too hot.

My nervous system tensed as the stream of urine weakened. I took two slight steps forward, balancing my weight, crouching a bit, and he shook his penis and put it back into his pants, zipping up as he turned around.

I leaped and caught his throat before he even saw me.

He went over backward, and his arms were too busy trying to do too many things—trying to break his fall, trying to pull me from his chest, trying to free my bite, trying to gouge my eyes. All were ineffective. I noted each of his slight defense attempts with as much attention as I noted the noise we made as we landed on the ground. These were things to learn from, nothing more. What was of importance at the time was my starvation, my insatiability that was only aggravated by the first swallow. Then the blood pumped hot and sweet, and my lips found the straw and tugged gently, drinking quickly, milking, staving off the final rush, the release, toying, playing, dancing around it, until I could wait no longer, and an explosion of nerve endings sparked my body, and I shuddered, quivered, and was full.