The Rabid

by Ami Urban

  "Drinking won't solve your problems."

  I stopped and put my hands on the edge of the counter. "What, you're playing conscience now?"

  "I've always been your conscience, you moron. You killed me and that's why I'm here."

  I could feel my face twist into a sneer. "Enough with the killing business!"

  "You're a murderer, man. What else can I say?"

  "Nothing! You can shut your fucking mouth!" I was beginning to feel a slight buzz.

  "Murderer."

  "Stop it!"

  "Murderer."

  "Shut up!"

  Silas leaned forward until he was as close to me as possible. I could smell the decay on him. "Murderer."

  "Fuck you!" Without thinking, I closed my eyes and hurled the bottle of Red Label at him. When I heard the smash of glass, I looked up to find him gone and expensive whiskey dripping off the mirror across from me.

  "Great...now how am I gonna get drunk?"

  When no one answered me, I decided to head to the separate cabins in the back of the hotel to hunt around for whatever might have been left. Darkness had already settled on the world when I stepped outside. Even soft snowflakes began to fall from the clouds. The first snow of the season.

  The familiar glint of Huntington's beacon broke my heart just a little more. But I had to keep going. And as soon as I consumed every single drop of alcohol left in that hotel, I'd move on. Where? I had no idea.

  I was yards away from the cabins when I heard the breaking of glass to my left. Stopping in my tracks, I pulled the pistol from my belt. Instinctively, I put an arm out to stop whoever was behind me from moving forward. But then I realized there was no one left to protect.

  Something metallic scraped against the ground. I looked toward a dark corner of the building. A garbage can fell over and rolled half a foot away. I drew my weapon and pulled back on the hammer.

  "Who's there?" The calm of my voice surprised me. Whiskey really was liquid courage.

  I took a step closer to the garbage as the rummaging continued. The fallen can rolled a bit more, then settled. After a few seconds, a very thin malnourished-looking raccoon poked his head out.

  "Oh..." Holstering my gun, I crept closer while kneeling down. "Hey, there, little fella."

  The raccoon looked up at me, chewing a bit of something he'd found in the garbage. Snowflakes collected on the end of his fur. He didn't seem frightened, so I kept approaching him.

  "How'd you get all the way out here?"

  He continued to chew as I got closer.

  "I don't suppose you found any liquor out here?"

  The raccoon stopped what he was doing and scurried away. So much for that. I took a deep breath and sat in the dirt. With my back to the outside wall of the hotel I began thinking about next steps. Where was I going to go? I supposed Braycart. But what if Lisa went there too? I guess it didn't really matter.

  Or maybe I could go find Raychel...

  Something nudged the side of my leg. I looked down to find a furry animal looking up at me. It was the raccoon. We stared silently at each other for a second or two before he stood on his hind legs and offered me something. It was a can of beer.

  "You understood me, bud?"

  I took the beer from him and reached out my hand. At first, he flinched back, but once he smelled me, he allowed me to pet him.

  "You sure are lucky to be alive." I popped the top on the beer and began to chug. It was warm and flat, but it didn't matter, because my buzz was deepening.

  "Jack."

  "Fuck you, Silas." I let out a sigh of relief as I emptied the can.

  "No, seriously. Look. The beacon is saying your name."

  I looked up at him. The blinking light illuminated his face in a familiar pattern. I counted them. I don't know why. Short blink, three long blinks. Pause. Short blink, long blink. Pause. Long blink, short blink, long blink, short blink. Pause. Long blink, short blink, long blink.

  "Holy shit." I scrambled to my feet and looked toward the direction of the beacon. It was dark for about three seconds before it started to repeat my name. "Lisa?"

  "You'd better answer," Silas said.

  Without a second thought, I started to run toward the cabins. The first two doors were locked, so I threw myself in reverse, stepping on the raccoon's tail.

  "Sorry, bud!" I ran past him. "Didn't know you were following me!"

  The third cabin was unlocked. I kicked the door open with my foot and ran inside. Once there, I frantically searched through each drawer, hoping and praying to find something to signal back with. Somehow, there was a large flood flashlight in the cabinet near an old dresser. I flicked it on. Still worked.

  Running back over to the window, I cleared a small wooden desk of clutter, then found a paper and pencil to write with. Then, I got to work. The raccoon watched me curiously.

  .-.. .. ... .- ..--..

  Lisa?

  There was a pause. Whoever had been signaling must have been translating a response. Did Lisa even know Morse code?

  .--- . ... .. -.-. .-

  Alex.

  Of course.

  --- -.- ..--..

  Ok?

  I hand't taught her much, but at least there was someone real to talk to.

  Yeah. What are you doing up, Juliet?

  Wanted to sure you were ok.

  I'm fine. How's Rex?

  Ok. Aunt Lisa sad.

  Me too.

  Come back?

  Can't.

  Why?

  I just can't, Juliet. I want to, but I can't. You'll understand when you're older.

  There was a long silence. Just darkness. I supposed she was done. I turned to the raccoon with too much feeling in my chest.

  "At least I'm lucky to have you."

  The animal regarded me silently. I wished for a moment it could speak, then allowed the silly thought to vanish. Then I wished there was more beer.

  ..- -. -.. . .-. ... - .- -. -.. / -. --- .--

  I turned my attention back toward the window. Understand now, she'd said.

  I'm sorry, kiddo. I can't explain it.

  There was one last message before the end of the conversation. .. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-

  I love you.

  I felt tears well into my eyes. What was I doing? I'd allowed a little girl to look up to me so much that she loved me and I left her. But if I couldn't have been her father, then it wasn't worth watching her grow up. It would have been too painful. I signaled back that I loved her too and that we'd meet again someday. Even if it was a lie, I had to tell her something. After a deep sigh, I set everything down and got ready for bed.

  From the Desk of Dr. Lisa James

  December 15

  Time seemed to pass quickly, but not quickly enough. Two weeks after Jack left, the kids seemed to be doing all right. Alex had sulked for days, but seemed to have the spring back in her step again. And Rex drowned himself in sleep, ice cream and butterflies. The interesting part of the whole thing was that he'd never been happier. There were times when he'd dream of Jack. And the only reason I knew that was because he'd talk in his sleep. I'd hear him mumbling through the wall at night or Alex would tell me the next day. If he could have understood, I knew he would have been hurting.

  But I had to keep going strong. So I did. The plan to end my life kept creeping ever forward in my head, however. Day by day it became a louder voice inside me. And day after day I choked it back down. It wasn't healthy, no, but I'd find a way to deal with it when I had the time.

  One night — about two and a half weeks after Jack had left — I was tucking the children into bed. Rex had had his bedtime story and was fast asleep. When Alex's turn came, she quickly hid a book she'd been writing in under her mattress and straightened up.

  "What's that, sweetheart?" I knelt beside the bed.

  "Nothing."

  "A diary?"

  She paused. "Yes."

  I nodded. "Just know I'm here to talk if you need it, okay?"<
br />
  "Oh, I'm fine." She smiled wide and puffed out her chest. "I talk to Jack all the time."

  The poignancy of her statement weighed heavily on me. "Alex. it's not healthy for a girl your age to talk to herself."

  "But...!"

  "I understand you miss him, honey. So do I. But we have to keep going."

  Alex was silent for a moment. "It sounds like you're trying to make yourself believe that more than me."

  I smiled on the inside. She was a smart cookie. "It's bedtime."

  "I know."

  Even though I'd grown accustomed to sleeping in a bed by myself after Rex was born, it was difficult again. I felt the need for warmth and companionship. All because of Jack. he'd simply asked far too much of me. If I were to give in, who knows what would have happened. Having no plan is not a healthy way to live.

  Writing has become very difficult. I find I may not continue with journal entries unless I deem it necessary.

  December 17

  Okay...what the ever-loving fuck just happened?

  I was asleep. The bed was fluffy and soft. It'd been about two and half weeks since I'd left the house. I just couldn't allow myself to move on. I knew I would, but there was still food and water at the hotel. I couldn't let it go to waste.

  My little buddy Lucky woke me. He was scratching at his thin fur. I assumed he had fleas. There was nothing I could do about it.

  "Why don't you go find us some grub, buddy?" I rolled away from the harsh white of daylight through the curtains. The raccoon had somehow clicked with me right away. He'd brought me a beer the first night we'd met. And since, he'd been fetching things for me all over the place. He could get into places I couldn't, so he'd find random stuff to snack on.

  The curtains parted and Lucky exited through the broken window. I sat up slowly, rubbing my temples. While I hand't had a drink in three days, my body was still experiencing a hangover. I thought a shower may have helped, so I stood and stumbled my way to the bathroom.

  The water was cold, but at least it woke me up. And at least it was still running. There were some clothes left behind, so I gathered those and dressed myself. It seemed like hours — me standing in front of the mirror, staring at my scruff.

  "Maybe I should grow a goatee." I made a few poses in the mirror to cheer myself up. Then I remembered my cell phone. While I'd thought it was a useless brick since it couldn't make or receive calls, it could still take pictures. I reached for it in my back pocket.

  "Maybe I should take a selfie!"

  "Or maybe you should do what's right for once." Silas was looking worse every day. His skin had turned a very sickly gray. Veins were noticeable just under his skin and I could even see shiny bone poking through his jawline. The hole in his chest had ceased pulsating but was exchanged by a thick, black drippy substance that smelled like sewage.

  "What do you know about what's right?" I rolled my eyes while facing him.

  "I know more than your dumb fucking ass."

  I leaned against the sink. "Whoa...what's with the hostility?"

  Silas took a step toward me. Something inside him made an awful gurgling noise. "You'd better do what's right, Jack. Otherwise it's gonna come and bite you in the arm."

  That was an odd choice of words. "I think you mean ass."

  A smirk slid across my friend"s face, ripping some necrotic flesh from the corner of his mouth. "Nope. I definitely meant arm."

  Without warning, the long glass window of the bathroom shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. On instinct, I shielded myself from it while cursing.

  "The fuck? Did a bomb just go off or some..." I stopped dead when I saw what was once a woman clawing through the new opening. Thick rivulets of foam dripped from her mouth. She was covered in blood, but I wondered how much of it was her own. And where was my gun?

  I spun around, trying to remember where I'd put it when I went to sleep. Why the hell had I taken it out of my belt? I made a move to get it, but the bathroom door slammed shut in my face.

  "What the fuck?" I grabbed the knob and pushed, but the thing wouldn't budge. "No!" I slammed my fist against the wood. Then I kicked it. I could hear the diseased thing behind me creeping closer. Throwing my entire shoulder into the door didn't even move it.

  "I told you. Do what's right, Jack." Silas's voice mocked me from beyond the door.

  "Silas! Silas, let me the fuck out! This isn't funny anymore!"

  My friend laughed. The woman behind me grabbed my ankle. I kicked her in the face, but she didn't let go. A yank later, I was on my ass on the bathroom floor, struggling hard to get her away. But her bony grip held fast.

  "Get. The. Fuck. Off!" With each word I spoke, I gave her a swift kick. I swore her growls sounded like laughter.

  "Do what's right, Jacky-boy."

  In a split second, the diseased was on top of me. She was strong as hell. Too strong. She hissed and spit at me as I held her at arm's distance.

  "Silas! Help!"

  A sudden hot, raw pain tore through my bicep. She'd bitten me. Her rotting teeth had torn right through my skin and into my muscle. I cried out, but no one answered me. Tears stung my cheeks.

  A good chunk of my arm ripped off in her mouth. And the look in her eye as she happily chewed my flesh and the pain of the virus flooding my veins just pushed me over the edge.

  With all the strength I had left, I shoved my knee into her stomach. She growled and fell to the floor. As I tried to use the toilet to lift myself up, more burning pain clawed at my shoulder.

  The bitch had jumped on my back and sunk her nasty teeth into my neck. And that was all it took. My rage turned violent. I screamed and grabbed the lid to the toilet tank. Then I spun around and smashed her head with it. She went down, but I didn't stop. I didn't stop hitting her with the lid until her swollen brains splashed over the tile floor.

  I threw the lid behind me where it landed on the floor with a loud clunk. The sound hurt. I was breathing hard. The ringing in my head grew to a deafening level until I had to hold my hands over my ears.

  "Make it stop!"

  I fell to my knees and began to cough. My body hurt all over. My stomach was in knots and I couldn't focus. A splash of blood came out of me. Then another. Suddenly I was vomiting a waterfall of red. Dizziness overtook me and everything began to go dark. And then I fell to floor in a pool of my own blood. I was dead.

  ***

  A faint tinkling melody roused me. My brain was a fog; my vision dark. When I opened my eyes, the room was a blur. I could only see a few tiles clearly. My phone vibrated three inches away, singing a tune.

  I tried to move, but could only get one arm to cooperate. The tips of my fingers came into view. The phone stopped vibrating and the screen went dark. I made an attempt to pull myself up, anticipating the white hot burn of the bite on my arm.

  But there was nothing. No pain at all.

  I sat up in one quick motion and pressed a palm to my neck. There was no bite. The floor wasn't covered in blood and there wasn't the body of a diseased woman lying dead next to me. The bathroom door stood wide open and Lucky was munching on something happily. What the hell had happened?

  The tinkling melody filled my ears again. My phone was vibrating. The screen was bright. The name "Raychel" was clear.

  "Holy shit!" I lunged for the phone and pressed the answer key. "Hello?"

  "Oh, my God, Jack! Thank you, Lord Almighty! The phones weren't working! I finally found a signal!" Her voice sounded like it hand't changed at all.

  "Raychel...where are you?" I stood slowly to steady myself. The back of my head ached.

  "we're at your house! We didn't know where else to go..." Static crippled the line for a moment.

  "Raychel?!"

  "Jac...I...here...you...there?"

  "Raychel, do you have a car?"

  Static. "Yes."

  "Okay, drive straight to Las Vegas and stay there! I'll meet you there. Don't get out of the car and don't talk to anyone, okay?" I began to search f
rantically for my gun and a jacket.

  "Okay. See you."

  I paused. The air hung empty with the words I knew we both wanted to say. "See you."

  "I—"

  The phone beeped loudly in my ear. I looked at the screen. No service. I didn't have time to dwell on what had just happened in the bathroom. I had to light a fire under my own ass.

  I found both my guns, shrugged into a beat up coat, and threw open the hotel door. "You coming?" I turned back toward Lucky. He regarded me for a moment, then jumped up to follow me out the door.

  December 18

  Ten hours. Seven hours of driving. Two hours of stopping to piss and one hour spent syphoning diesel fuel with a hose. Man that shit tasted terrible.

  It took me ten hours to get to Vegas. In that ten hours, I had way too much time to think about what happened between me and Raychel. So many hurtful words were exchanged and so much time had passed without a phone call that I wasn't sure how it was going to go.

  "Now we're talkin...!"

  I jumped halfway out of my seat, causing the van to swerve into the shoulder. Dirt and snow plunged into the air. The sound of skidding tires met me. I calmly took my foot off the gas pedal and turned the wheel back toward the road.

  "You're lucky I know shit about cars." I rolled my eyes skyward, avoiding the disgusting corpse rotting in the passenger seat.

  "Wait...how am I lucky? I'm already dead."

  I opened my mouth to say something, but he was right. My jaw hung open for a few seconds more before I closed it again.

  "Why the hell did you pull that stunt back at the hotel?" I kept my eyes on the road ahead. Only ten miles to go.

  "Me? Man, that was all your imagination. You have a damn powerful one."

  "Not the hallucination. You telling me I need to do what's right. What is right?"

  "This. What you're doing right now is what you should have done ages ago."

  I took one hand off the wheel to scratch the back of my head. "No shit."

  Five miles.

  "You know...I never met Raychel. Is she as hot as Lisa?"

  My blood pressure spiked. "Why'd you say her name like that?"