Story after the jump.
P.S. It's turned out longer than expected, so I apologize for that.
The outbreak began slowly. The populace didn't panic, the government didn't shut down major roads and there were no general quarantines. An isolated case in the hospital, first believed to be a case of mutated rabies that affected only a small percentage of people who were specifically susceptible. "A weird airborne virus, shouldn't be anything serious," was about the official stance. There were a few news stories of course, but it got less air time than any flu. Like most everyone else, I ignored the warnings.
My alarm began blaring it's annoying "EEEHN EEEHN EEHN" at 7:01, on a cool Tuesday in February. That extra minute was vital. Waking up at 7:00 is killer, it's bowing to requirements and admitting defeat. I know it doesn't amount to much, but it matters, okay. Turn the alarm off, fall off the bed and onto the floor. Grunt, groan and drag myself to the shower. Shave the little bit of stubble that's just started on my upper lip, brush my teeth, throw clothes on and grab my back pack. Dash out the door, and catch the bus to school at 7:20.
Go to class and march from room to room just like everyone else. Cut out on 7th period and make it to the mall by 14:30. Straight to the game store to waste what I've saved of minimum wage on whatever new shooter had just come out. My days were all the same at this point, a matter of rote and routine. I went back to suburbia and stared at the TV until 17:00 when it was time to get ready for my date.
Pulled myself from the blood bath that was reigning down upon my avatar by 17:20 and managed only a quick shower before I left the house. Ask mom to borrow the minivan and out the door by 17:40. Then I'm lost on the city streets. I keep finding 14th and 16th, but can't find 15th. Spit a curse and pull in at the nearest gas station.
It's like this every time we move. Dad gets a new assignment in Podunk, USA and the country folks welcome us with open arms. His military status ensures that. And then it's to Metropolitan City, Suburb C of some major city and I have to meet people all over again, "make new friends" is the best advice he and mom can give me. Eventually, I just stopped trying.
At the gas station, I go inside and ask the cashier how to get to 15th street. His directions are condescending and succinct.
"Piss off," I respond by way of thanking him.
Outside the station a homeless man is opening a new pack of smokes. It had been a while since I'd had any, so I ask him if I can bum a cigarette from him. I laugh silently at my pun.
"No problem, man," he said in his own slurred way. Lights one up, takes one puff, then another, and passes it to me. The smoke barely masks his own stench, but I take the and gladly place it between my lips. A calm washes over me with the first inhalation.
"You hear about this new disease, man?" he asks as he lights another.
"Ungh," I articulate in response.
"I think this guy I saw earlier had it man. Scary stuff."
"Right. You got something other than these cigs, making you see stuff?" I ask, a master of sarcasm.
"Nah, man. I'm not kidding." He seemed offended that I didn't believe him. Rather than continue the conversation, I stood in silence, quickly finishing the cigarette and getting back to my car.
I followed the directions and picked up my date from her prep school. Her nose and lip rings clashed with the uniform mandated by the school. Her otherwise brown hair was tinged with pink at the ends where she'd had to cut it. Brown eyes matched the natural color as she looked at me.
"You smell like smoke," is the first thing she says to me.
"Hmm?"
"Got one for me?" she asks with a grin.
"Nope."
I am a word smith.
She makes a disgruntled sound as we drive back to her place. Her parents got her a small apartment just outside of the city rather than pay extra for the on campus housing at the school. The daughter of some self-made business man and a trophy wife, she'd learned to rebel at a young age. I usually tuned it out when she started whining about it. I'd be gone soon enough, I told myself. Dad would get a new assignment, so there wasn't any reason to actually get to know anyone.
We get to her apartment soon enough, order pizza, and lay down on her futon. Turn the TV on for background noise. Get down to business.
"You taste like smoke," she says, half cringe, half enjoyment.
"You taste like ... so what?"
The doorbell interrupts us a few minutes later. She settles her uniform back into an acceptable arrangement and gets the pizza. I paid last time, so she pays. Devour the pizza and then it's back to the futon.
Lights down low, TV droning on. Some news station. I kiss my way down her stomach, enjoying her fingers through my hair. Move further down, pulling off skirt and everything underneath as I go. She pulls my head down as I nibble her thigh. She gasps, her hips pushing up toward my mouth. I'm teasing her now, using my tongue.
"Don't tease me," she breathes, a sigh in every word.
She's pulling my hair, trying to get my head away from her. I taste blood.
It can't be that time of the month, I think.
I feel my teeth sink into the flesh of her mound. She yells, but it sounds no different than the TV by now. I try to stop, realizing something's wrong, but my body won't obey. My jaws close on more skin, then muscle. She's crying now, trying to pull away, but my hands are gripping tightly to her ankles. She kicks. Connects. I feel my shoulder pop from the sock, a sick wrenching sound. But it joins the background noise. My mind is reeling, searching for some explanation. Her leg is squirting blood now, I might as well be flossing with the artery.
She's fighting less now, her cries softer. I continue my meal, the pizza forgotten on the table.
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