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Authors: HC Hammond
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had taken hold.
It took twenty
minutes to test the blood. Both were positive for infection antibodies to Vosanguvirus of the subfamily: Creuviridae , of the family: Human Abeoviridae; generally
called Abeos. The blight of humanity, affecting people by changing them in
many different, strange and terrifying ways, depending on the particular
virus. Harold held the remains of Zeke’s blood sample up to the light. He had
Vampirism. The dark fluid hid its secrets from the average observer. Without
a bite mark and with fangs retracted, Harold looked like everyone else. Just
as that man down in the ER did. Harold didn’t know the entire story with Zeke
and Bill, but he did know both were fucked. Bill would end up in a treatment
facility until doctors deemed him suitable for release. Zeke, well, once the
coppers got these test results they’d investigate more thoroughly. Test the
DNA of the infection in both men. Draw their own conclusions.
David now worked
laboriously over a series of biopsies for the surgical department. His back
was to Harold and he was completely absorbed. Harold made a split second
decision.
He went into the
freezer and grabbed a bag of whole blood with the same blood type as Zeke.
Quietly skewered the bag with a syringe and drew a clean sample. He slipped
the pint back into the case sideways for later retrieval and went back to his
workstation. Harold tossed Zeke’s true sample and results out, reset the
centrifuge and ran a new test with the clean sample.
Twenty minutes
later Harold delivered the results to the highway patrolmen waiting
downstairs. One clean and one infected.
Harold finished
up his shift feeling a little bit on edge. David came back from break a few
hours later with news from one of the nurses about the same scene Harold
endured earlier. David talked on that the rest of the night while Harold
played indifferent to the topic and tried to start up game of poker, but the
man was all over the story. He spent the rest of the shift speculating about
what happened, tossing out everything from willing victim to late night snack.
Harold only said they’d probably know more after the report came out in the
news.
Chapter Four
Harold slid into
the booth at the all night diner where Zork the slug sat stuffing itself with
blueberry pie. A pretty waitress tried to give Harold a menu. He waved her
away.
On the wall, A
Time to Dine Clock, brightly announced the current time to the diner crowd so
they could flip their menus to breakfast, lunch or dinner by its calculations.
Waitresses, brisk and professional, click-clacked across the tiles with
platters full of plates. Underneath, the black and white tiles shined from a
recent waxing and Harold wondered how those brisk women could hurry so without
slipping and sliding all over the floor. A unique geometric arrangement to the
tiles had Harold’s eyes following them along the restaurant’s layout. They
traversed through the ins and outs of the dining area. It felt nostalgic to be
in one of these places again. The retro theme was very similar the diners of
old. Too much music and fluorescent lighting and the clothes weren’t right,
but it was almost as the same.
Large by most
diner standards, this place was filled to the brink with normies and a few
other questionables. Every booth boasted two or three folks and every booth
featured a glittered red and grey chevron on plastic vinyl. The red repeated
itself in the soft backlight reaching across the ceiling. Classic big band
songs familiar to Harold from his younger days, played softly in the
background. Blinds on the wide windows only accented his view of those rushing
to do late night holiday
It took twenty
minutes to test the blood. Both were positive for infection antibodies to Vosanguvirus of the subfamily: Creuviridae , of the family: Human Abeoviridae; generally
called Abeos. The blight of humanity, affecting people by changing them in
many different, strange and terrifying ways, depending on the particular
virus. Harold held the remains of Zeke’s blood sample up to the light. He had
Vampirism. The dark fluid hid its secrets from the average observer. Without
a bite mark and with fangs retracted, Harold looked like everyone else. Just
as that man down in the ER did. Harold didn’t know the entire story with Zeke
and Bill, but he did know both were fucked. Bill would end up in a treatment
facility until doctors deemed him suitable for release. Zeke, well, once the
coppers got these test results they’d investigate more thoroughly. Test the
DNA of the infection in both men. Draw their own conclusions.
David now worked
laboriously over a series of biopsies for the surgical department. His back
was to Harold and he was completely absorbed. Harold made a split second
decision.
He went into the
freezer and grabbed a bag of whole blood with the same blood type as Zeke.
Quietly skewered the bag with a syringe and drew a clean sample. He slipped
the pint back into the case sideways for later retrieval and went back to his
workstation. Harold tossed Zeke’s true sample and results out, reset the
centrifuge and ran a new test with the clean sample.
Twenty minutes
later Harold delivered the results to the highway patrolmen waiting
downstairs. One clean and one infected.
Harold finished
up his shift feeling a little bit on edge. David came back from break a few
hours later with news from one of the nurses about the same scene Harold
endured earlier. David talked on that the rest of the night while Harold
played indifferent to the topic and tried to start up game of poker, but the
man was all over the story. He spent the rest of the shift speculating about
what happened, tossing out everything from willing victim to late night snack.
Harold only said they’d probably know more after the report came out in the
news.
Chapter Four
Harold slid into
the booth at the all night diner where Zork the slug sat stuffing itself with
blueberry pie. A pretty waitress tried to give Harold a menu. He waved her
away.
On the wall, A
Time to Dine Clock, brightly announced the current time to the diner crowd so
they could flip their menus to breakfast, lunch or dinner by its calculations.
Waitresses, brisk and professional, click-clacked across the tiles with
platters full of plates. Underneath, the black and white tiles shined from a
recent waxing and Harold wondered how those brisk women could hurry so without
slipping and sliding all over the floor. A unique geometric arrangement to the
tiles had Harold’s eyes following them along the restaurant’s layout. They
traversed through the ins and outs of the dining area. It felt nostalgic to be
in one of these places again. The retro theme was very similar the diners of
old. Too much music and fluorescent lighting and the clothes weren’t right,
but it was almost as the same.
Large by most
diner standards, this place was filled to the brink with normies and a few
other questionables. Every booth boasted two or three folks and every booth
featured a glittered red and grey chevron on plastic vinyl. The red repeated
itself in the soft backlight reaching across the ceiling. Classic big band
songs familiar to Harold from his younger days, played softly in the
background. Blinds on the wide windows only accented his view of those rushing
to do late night holiday
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