The Rabid

by Ami Urban

  "I hand't meant to! I was nervous!"

  "Nervous about going on a date with a mechanic?" I nudged her with my elbow.

  "You're always underestimating yourself." Her tone turned serious. "You've never learned to appreciate yourself like everyone else does."

  I was quiet for a moment. Deep words like those were rare coming from her. "Nah." I decided to joke instead.

  "My mom adored you."

  "Allegra liked everyone."

  "Well, you especially." She tucked her knees under her while turning toward me. "First thing she said to me when the outbreak happened was to go find you, because you were probably my last hope at getting married."

  "Snap."

  "And then she got attacked." Claire went silent again, staring at a wet patch of concrete.

  "Bummer." It was all I could offer as far as sentiment went.

  "As usual, mother was wrong." We looked at each other. "A guy like you doesn't stay single forever."

  Told you she was nice.

  For some reason, no words came to me. Probably because Lisa wasn't one for doling out compliments like they were candy. One here and one there was how she did business. Being flattered was, well...flattering.

  A bang on the door interrupted our moment. Claire jumped while I scrambled to my feet.

  "Jack!" The whisper was harsh, but I recognized the voice. Raychel and Gregg were waiting for us outside the doors.

  "Raychel?" I kept my voice low. "Are the Biters gone?"

  "For the most part."

  "We're kinda stuck in here right now. Can you maybe..." I stopped when I felt a tug on my jeans. It was Lucky. And in his tiny little hand was another Allen wrench. I knelt down. "Oh you beautiful little creature. I could kiss you." I stood with the wrench in hand. "But I won't."

  When we were finally outside, the non-chlorinated air smelled sweet. Raychel and Gregg were right outside in the dark, waiting for us. I look at Raychel's flashlight. There was blood all over it, casting an eerie red glow on the walls.

  "That's not yours, is it?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

  She shook her head. "I got one of those things."

  I nodded. "Good. Let's get the hell out of dodge."

  The lobby was clear as well. While the lights were still off and it was dark, we could see a little with flashlights. We were almost to the door when Claire screamed.

  We all swung around to see a Biter reaching out to her. I tried to grab her, but couldn't get there fast enough. The thing grabbed her by the shoulders and sunk its teeth into her throat.

  I cocked my shotgun just as it was tearing a chunk of her flesh out and shot it square in the chest. It fell to the floor as I rushed over to Claire.

  She'd fallen against the front desk and sunk down. A streak of red painted the wood behind her, reminding me of Silas — alone and rotting in his own home. Claire gasped for breath and clung to me. Blood gushed with every beat of her heart. That thing had bitten right through her artery.

  I pressed my hands against the wound. "Just hold on. Hold on, Claire. you'll be okay."

  She kept gasping. Blood poured through my fingers. I wasn't putting enough pressure on the wound. Claire's grip loosened. Her head fell to one side and life faded from her eyes. Her last breath escaped her in a long whisper.

  I sat there and stared at her for a few seconds, blood still pooling beneath my hands. I felt as though my own heart had stopped.

  "Fuck!" I moved back and slammed a fist into the ground. "Fuck! Shit! Fuck!" I felt no tears but a raw emptiness built inside my chest. I wasn't able to dwell on it much longer, because Raychel screamed behind me. I spun around just in time to see the diseased monster taking a big bite out of Gregg's ankle.

  "Fuck you!" I pointed the gun at it, making its head explode in a cloud of blood. Red splashed on the both of them. Raychel was sobbing while Gregg writhed in pain.

  I stepped over the thing's body to get a closer look at his bite. "Jesus Christ. It bit right through your Achilles tendon."

  "Oh shit. Oh Jesus. What's that mean? I'm I gonna die?"

  "Will he be okay, Jack?" Raychel's tears were coming in torrents.

  I looked up at them. "I know a doctor."

  From the Desk of Dr. Lisa James

  December 19

  The days were beginning to shorten. Darkness fell upon the Huntington house around five every evening and the children were asleep by seven. Ms. Huntington always invited me down for tea afterward and we'd talk about anything and everything. Besides Jack. Whenever his name was brought up, I'd change the subject. I didn't need to be made to feel guilty for him anymore. He wasn't my responsibility.

  Snow had started to sneak into our lives. During the day it was a refreshing sight. While it didn't match my moods most the time, I grew accustomed to the transition. Inside was very warm and inviting. People would come in and out of the house. For some, it was just another pit stop on their way somewhere else. For others, it was a permanent residence. I'd met many new faces.

  The nights we're only getting more and more difficult. I never did have a chance to figure out why. I suppose deep down I knew. But I hand't made a mistake. My head had never steered me wrong. The heart was weak. There was no way I could follow it to a correct decision ever again after what had happened with Chase.

  And because of that, I had a decision to make.

  It was a Tuesday. There had been a snowstorm sometime during the night. The driveway was muddy and puddles had built up. Rex and Alex were out jumping from one dirty gray patch of snow to another. I watched them from the window. Clouds still hung low in the sky, but it seemed the snow had stopped for the most part.

  I can't recall how long I stood in the kitchen, but it felt as though hours had passed while I steeped the green tea in my cup. The kitchen was bustling as it was right after breakfast, so I waited until everyone had filtered out to go to the far cabinets.

  Inside, I found a large box of rat poison. Taking another quick look around, I dumped several spoonfuls into my tea and stirred it up.

  "I'm telling you, Scotty, you have no idea what it's like."

  I looked over my shoulder to see the chef and his friend waltz into the room. Scotty, the chef, was the taller of the two. He was a young redhead full of ambition and hope.

  His friend, Tango, was short and scruffy. He seemed to like arguing and making up stories. The two of them stopped at the kitchen sink.

  "Dude, I know." Scotty's voice sounded exasperated.

  "No, man, seriously. I was on the SWAT team that raided that guy's house, man. You have no idea what weed does to you."

  Scotty picked up a rag and slung it over his shoulder, then he turned to face me.

  "Oh, hi Lisa. How are you?"

  "Hey, Lisa." Tango glanced at me briefly, seeming eager to continue the conversation.

  "Hello. I'm fine. Just going to have some tea."

  Scotty's eyes glazed over with something that looked like concern. His features went from excited at my presence to wonder.

  "Ooh, make sure you don't get any of that in there." He came over to grab the box of poison. After placing it back in the cabinet, he tossed me a flashy smile. "Can't be good for you."

  I nodded my agreement.

  "Oh, yeah, yeah. I know what you mean." Tango began to rant once again while Scotty rolled his eyes. "I swallowed rat poison once in the army and was sick as a dog for days, man."

  I excused myself while the two continued to argue about arbitrary things. Eagerness flooded into every fiber of my being. I just wanted to end it.

  Alex and Rex had moved to the sun room to play, so I sat in the loveseat across from the window, watching them teach each other about life.

  I stared down at my reflection on the surface of the tea. Deductive reasoning told me I looked tired and haggard. But I felt oddly at peace. The children were taken care of. My presence was no longer a requirement of their wellbeing.

  I took the first sip of tea. It was bitter. Not awful, but
enough to cause my cheeks to pucker on the inside. I'd had a good run.

  Somewhere upstairs, a door slammed. Running footsteps echoed around the hall. Scott and Tango emerged from the large kitchen.

  "What's all the noise?" He wiped both hands on his apron.

  "I'm not sure." I looked toward the stairs as Ms. Huntington stumbled down. I stood as she passed the sitting room.

  "Oh, Lisa! Dear, I need your assistance!" She seemed frantic. Ribbons of her hair had come loose and were falling around her face.

  "What's going on?"

  "Someone's been bitten. they're bringing them in."

  "Oh, shit! I'll help! I have training." Tango ran toward the front door.

  "I see. Scott, please boil some water and fetch me as many towels as you can find. I'll need antibacterial soap, something to make a tourniquet with and we'll need to tie the patient down in case they turn." I handed him the cup. "And please pour this out. Make sure all of it goes down the drain."

  Scott nodded, confusion knitting his brows together. Then, he disappeared into the kitchen. Ms. Huntington showed me to a room adjacent to the kitchen where they would keep individuals who were ill. We cleared a bed for the newcomer. Scott came back with a large bowl of steaming water and towels.

  "I couldn't find anything like a tourniquet," he said.

  "It's fine." I turned and snatched a sheet from the neighboring bed and began tearing it into pieces. Ms. Huntington paused for a moment while watching me. "I'll gladly replace these."

  She nodded just as the front door smashed open. There were voices and cries of pain. Scott and Ms. Huntington rushed toward the parlor while I continued ripping the sheets into pieces. A few moments later, the shouts continued, but Tango and Scott were carrying someone I'd never seen before. They brought him into the room and laid him carefully on the bed.

  "The bite is on his right ankle." I said the words more to myself than anyone else. The man squirmed. "Can you both please restrain him?"

  Scott and Tango nodded and they each held down his legs and wrists. Luckily, the man did not fight.

  "I'm sorry, sir. This is for everyone's safety. When were you bitten?"

  "Uh...um...about an hour ago?"

  "What's your name?"

  "Gregg."

  "Okay, Gregg, I'm going to wash the wound. It's going to hurt very very much. The water is quite hot, but this could potentially stop the spread of the virus through your bloodstream."

  "Whatever you say, doc."

  I instructed Scott to find some kind of liquor for Gregg to dull the pain. He didn't seem to be struggling, so I made the decision to not restrain him as harshly.

  "Mmm." Tango came around to see the wound. He then put one hand to his chin as if he were thinking. "That's a nasty bite, son. A dog bit me there once. Not fun. Needed stitches."

  Scott came back with the whiskey and shoved the bottle at Gregg. He happily began chugging it down.

  I grabbed a towel, dunked it in the hot, soapy water and pressed it against the bite wound. Gregg immediately tensed and shouted a curse. But he kept as still as he could. I occasionally squeezed the towel to allow more hot water into the wound.

  "Who found him like this?"

  "A guy named Jack Reynolds brought him here," Tango said.

  I tried to still the jump of my pulse.

  "Jack said you were the best doctor he knew. He said you could help me." Gregg's voice was hoarse with pain.

  "I'm the only doctor he knows." I turned for more hot water.

  "Should I tell them anything, Lisa?" Scott took a step toward the door.

  "Them?" I didn't look up from my task.

  "Jack and Raychel. I'd assume they'd want to know your, uh...."

  "Prognosis." Tango finished the sentence for him.

  The thought of Jack with some new woman was not one I had time to dwell on as much as I wanted to.

  "Tell them I'd like to speak to them. I won't know anything until I clean the wound. Have them come see me when they're ready."

  Scott left. Tango stayed and helped me work. It took about fifteen minutes to properly clean the bite. I tied the tourniquet just below the knee and placed fresh towels under Gregg's leg as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

  When I was done and Tango had gathered the supplies to bring back to the kitchen for a thorough cleaning, I went to the window. It overlooked the garden and outside I could see Jack speaking with a lovely young blonde woman. They smiled at each other while they spoke. She touched his face.

  He'd grown a goatee, but it was neatly trimmed around the sides. The two of them talked for a few more moments before turning to go inside. I fell back from the window.

  "Jack was right."

  I looked toward Gregg.

  "You are the hottest doctor I've ever seen."

  "Thank you. Try and rest, Gregg. Your body requires some hibernation after such a trauma."

  "You got it, doc."

  Jack's voice came to me from the hallway. Ms. Huntington was asking him about his female companion. He introduced her as Raychel. He hand't mentioned anyone by that name to me. For some reason, the realization I'd made caused my heart to sink a few metaphorical inches into my stomach.

  I stepped out into the parlor and shut the door to the room myself. A twinge of dull pain spiked in my insides. I'd have to remember to induce vomiting at some point.

  The three of them stopped talking and turned toward me. Jack seemed to visibly deflate when he saw me. The woman's expression registered some recognition, but I was sure I'd never met her before.

  Ms. Huntington turned back toward them. "Raychel, dear, I'll show you to your room"

  "I've got it." Jack interrupted the woman and grabbed Raychel's hand. "She'll stay with me."

  With that, he whisked her up the staircase and out of sight. Her gaze seemed to linger on me, but I didn't even get a chance to gather my thoughts at seeing Jack again.

  "A snack, dear?" Ms. Huntington's voice interjected into my thoughts.

  "Tea would be fine, thank you. I'll take it in the sunroom. Where are the children?"

  "Ah. Mr. Davis took them into the backroom to put that thousand piece puzzle together while they brought the poor man in. Is he going to be all right?"

  "Only time will tell."

  ***

  I had nearly finished off my ginger tea when the French doors opened and closed. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed two people. When I turned my head, I saw Jack and his female friend approaching me. Neither of their expressions told me what they could have possibly been thinking, so I gave them a polite yet guarded smile then went back to watching the snails crawl on the concrete.

  The two of them sat down and for a few excruciating moments, none of us spoke. Finally, the blonde woman made a funny noise in the back of her throat before standing up.

  "If you're not gonna do it, I will."

  Jack said nothing, so she approached me.

  "I'm Raychel." She held out her hand, so I shook it. Her voice was raspy but quite full of happy energy.

  "Lisa James. Nice to meet you."

  We were quiet again. She sat back down next to Jack.

  "I brought him here because I knew you could help him." It was Jack who'd spoken. I studied his face, but he kept his expression stonily blank.

  "I appreciate it."

  "Ugh. Would you look at that?" Raychel gestured toward the French doors. I turned and saw a mangy-looking raccoon rummaging around in the flowers.

  "Did he come with you?" I was curious.

  "He came with Jack. That's his baggage, not mine." Her voice was drenched in humor, but Jack didn't seem to find it amusing.

  "His name's Lucky."

  "I kept telling him it's super gross. I mean, Raccoons are the number one carriers of rabies. How can you be so silly?" Raychel nudged him.

  "Actually the number one carrier of rabies is dogs. But raccoons are on the list." I watched Lucky try to munch on a flower then spit it out, using his paws to
rub the end of his nose.

  "Oh."

  "How long have you had him?" I turned back to Jack.

  "About a month." He didn't look at me.

  "Then you're fine. He would have shown signs by now. Unless he gets bitten, we have nothing to worry about." I watched the animal scratch at his patchy fur. "He has fleas."

  "Yeah, I know. But there's not much I can do about it, is there?" Jack's question was flat.

  "Ms. Huntington keeps boxes of Dawn dish soap in the shed on the other side of the house. If you stop up a tub and put him in the water with some of it, it'll kill the fleas."

  He finally looked at me. I thought I saw a sparkle of humor in his eye, but it vanished as quickly as it had come. "Let me guess... You studied veterinary science in college?"

  I took a deep breath. "Yes. For a semester." If I wanted answers as to who this mystery woman was, I'd have to ask difficult questions. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

  Both of them snapped their gazes to me at the same time. They were silent for a second or two before Raychel burst into almost hysterical laughter. Jack rolled his eyes.

  "You can stop now."

  Raychel put her hands to her mouth and tried to control it. "I'm sorry. I'm just...I'm not done laughing yet." She wiped a tear form her eye while quelling one last chuckle. "Jack is my brother."

  I felt instantly stupid. "Oh."

  "I'm involved with Gregg in there, actually."

  "Oh! I apologize. I don't have a fountain of information for you yet. The next twelve hours is very critical. I've cleaned the bite as best I can. The good news is it's as far away from the brain as it can possibly be, so it could take quite a few days to spread. I should know more by tomorrow morning, and hopefully we won't need to amputate."

  "Thank you." The words emerged quietly from her mouth.

  "Of course."

  "So, does he have a leg to stand on?" Jack asked.

  Raychel groaned. "Grow up."

  Jack lifted his shoulders in response. "It's a legitimate question! Gregg might have to learn partial arts."

  "Are you serious right now?" Raychel stared at him, but he just kept a straight face.