Origins of the Outbreak (5 page)

The Exotic Dancer
, 1:39 a.m.

Trisha was worried.  Normally,Trent checked his text messages at least once an hour when he went out to smoke, but he hadn’t replied back to any of her messages, including the one where she said that she’d be willing to have a threesome with Kelly.  She didn’t want to seem neurotic or something so she consciously made an effort to stop texting him after thirty-seven unanswered messages.  A girl’
s
gott
a
know her limits.

After their fight over Trent wanting to hook up with three or four of her fellow dancers from the Amorous Armadillo – including that skank Brandi – Trisha had to get out of the apartment for a little while
.
He always got lippy when he combined weed and tequila, but he wouldn’t stop talking about wanting to have a big orgy with the girls from the club.  When he started describing the exact details of what he wanted to do, that had been too much for her and she barricaded herself in the bathroom until this morning when she left to clear her head.

Thinking back on the fight though, maybe she
had been wrong.  He didn’t want to cheat on her; he just wanted to share a new experience with her, which was really sweet.  As she went through her shift tonight, she decided that it really was silly not to go for it while she was still young.  She did all sorts of things with the girls up on stage and back in the Champagne Room for paying customers, why not offer just a little more to her man?

Over the course of the evening, her belief that it was wrong evolved into excitement with sharing Trent with a couple of the girls.  He was an amazing lover, why not spread the joy?  Besides, the girls would be so jealous of her because she got
to have Trent all the time and they would only get it if she decided to let them.

Her texts to Trent had started out with an apology and a simple concession to hook up with Kelly, but became more and more explicit.  She thought that would break him out of his funk, but he hadn’t replied to her yet so she decided to leave early.  The ‘
Dillowas still packed when she walked out at 1 a.m.  It sucked because it was payday weekend and several of the guys were plastered
.
She could have gotten some good money out of them, but the feeling that something was wrong with her lover forced her to leave.  Her mama used to call it “a woman’s intuition” before she died.

The white Wrangler’s oversized tires made
a
whupp-whupp-whup
p
noise as they sped along the streets surrounding The Inked Apple, Trent’s tattoo shop.  At first she’d panicked, thinking he’d done something foolish and gone to the apartment, but his car wasn’t there.  It was sitting at the shop and she’d asked a couple of the other guys if they knew what had happened to him.
They said that he took a smoke break in the middle of a big shoulder piece for some college kid and never came back
.
He just walked off into the night and Klepto had to finish the work free of charge.  Nobody was happy with Trent, not the guys at the shop and certainly not Trisha.

What the hell has gotten into him?  It’s not like she broke up with him or screwed one of her customers for rent money again.  They’d been on pretty good terms all week
, until last night.  Maybe he was more on the edge than she’d thought. 
Geez, when I find that boy, I’
m
gonn
a
kick his ass!

To top it all off, the rent was due today.  If Trent had
gone space cadet all day long like Klepto said he did, then he probably didn’t pay the rent and they’d get another late fee.  They usually made enough money to pay their bills, but it seemed like the late fees just kept mounting up and they couldn’t get out from under them once they started. 
Fuckin’ life, man
.
It’d be so much easier if I didn’t like him so much.  That way I could just leave this stupid town and go to Dallas
.  Dallas is where girls of Trisha’s caliber went to dance and made a lot of money.  They had all nude, BYOB clubs up there and the rumor was that the girls made an absolute killing.  All she had to do was stay away from the drugs and she could bank five grand a month.

She let her mind wander about how much different life would be if she made that much money.  All it took was half a second for her to zone out and some damn animal jumped right in front of her Jeep.  The little SUV hit the creature and both the passenger side tires crushed it underneath them.

Trisha slammed on her brakes out of habit and the Wrangler’s rear end started to slide around to the front with a screech that shattered the relative calm of the evening.  She took her foot off and turned into the skid like Trent had taught her when dealing with ice and got it back under control.  She slowed to a stop and looked over her shoulder towards whatever it was that she’d hit.  The goddamn thing was still moving.

“Fuck!” she screamed into the night. 
That was a big dog, maybe even a deer.  I hope my car isn’t ruined.

She unbuckled her seat belt and opened the half door.  Trisha
jumped down and walked cautiously around to the front of her Jeep and cursed under her breath.  Her passenger side headlight was smashed in, but it looked like the bumper saved everything else.  “How the hell am I gonna pay for a new light?” she asked the night.

The dog gave a low moan of pain and she looked worriedly back towards its twitching form. 
Wait…  That’s not a dog.  Oh my God!

She ran towards the lump on the ground.  “Somebod
y
hel
p
me!” she screamed.  When she got up next to the heap, a dirty white lab coat took shape in the darkness and she slowed to a walk.

She got within a few feet of him and the man rolled over, his face was covered in blood.  She recoiled in horror at his sunken chest where her tires had crushed his sternum.  He reached out for her, obviously in pain, but she didn’t know what to do for him.  He was too far gone.

In a daze she dialed 9-1-1 and waited for the operator to answer.

“
9–1–1, what is your emergency?
”

“I…  Uh, I just hit a guy.”

“
Do you mean you punched someone or were you in an auto accident?
” the operator asked in confusion.

“I ran over a scientist with my Jeep.”

“
Is he alright?
”

“No, he’s messed up – he’s still alive, but he’s
gonna die soon.  His chest is totally crushed.”

“
Can you render aid?  Are you hurt?
”

“I’m fine, but there’s something wrong with his face too.  I don’t think that was from the Jeep.”

“
Listen to me.  Is he breathing?
”

“I don’t know.  He’s moving around.”

“
I’ve alerted the fire department.  Do you know where you are?
”

Trish looked around and squinted to see the street sign.  “No…
,” she said and then trailed off as a familiar shape materialized out of the dark.

“Trent!  Oh my God, I’ve been looking for you!” she screamed at her boyfriend who was slowly walking towards her from the drainage ditch between privacy fences.

“
Miss
.
Miss, I need you to focus.  Can you tell me where you are?
”

“No, I can’t, but my boyfriend is here now,” Trisha replied.  “He’ll be able to tell you where we are.”

“
Please put him on the phone.
”

“Uh, sure,” she said and dropped the phone down to her side.

“Trent, what’s wrong with you?” she asked, the phone hanging uselessly at her side.  He staggered like he’d been hit by a car towards her.  Did he get hurt somehow too?  Her eyes went wide as he stepped out of the ditch and she was able to see a shiny wetness on his neck and shoulder.

Trisha screamed and ran towards him. 
“Oh my God, Trent
!
What happened to you?”

He grasped one of her outstretched hands and pulled it up to his mouth.  Her scream was different than the one she’d emitted a moment before.  This time it was a primal screech from the depths of her soul as three of her fingers were sheared from her hand.

“What the fuck are you doing, you fucking whack-job?” she sobbed and tried to pull her hand away from him.  His grip was too tight and the blood already flowed freely from the severed stumps.

Trent dropped her arm, reached out and grabbed a handful of her tank top.  He jerked her towards him and both of her shoulder straps broke, exposing her eight thousand
dollar tits to the world.  He grasped her and bit deeply into her neck.

From behind her, Steven had finally managed to stand and he stumbled over, biting into the other side of her neck.  As Trisha’s mind began to shut down, the last thought that ran through her head was
,
Looks like that asshole is getting his MMF threesome that he always jerked off to.

The Thursday Reveler, 2:05 a.m.

Sean pushed him gently out of the pub’s door and Jake hit the railing.  He started to fall backwards down the steps.  “Whoa, fuck!” he shouted, grabbing the rail to keep from falling.

“Hey, douche!  You coulda just told me to leave!” Jake yelled at the door as the manager locked it.  He flipped the bird at Sean, who shook his head at him through the window, and turned drunkenly towards the parking lot.

“Fuck!” he said loudly and tried to recover his balance.  He almost had it, but his top half wouldn’t cooperate and he tumbled down the stairs in slow motion
.
Some asshole must’ve shortened the steps when I was inside
.
How were customers supposed to have a good time when they kicked everyone out early and people were running around changing the stairs while they were inside?

Jake shoved the hood of his
sweatshirt off his head where it had landed and glared at the pub from the bottom of the short flight of steps.  Eventually, he sighed and pushed himself upright.  Even though it was One Dollar Longneck night, he’d still spent most of the money that he had.  “Oh well, I blew too much money anyways,” he muttered and tried to fish his keys out of his pocket.

He successfully retrieved them and walked in a jagged line to the car.  The thought that he should call a cab briefly crossed his mind, but he discarded the idea as another expense that he couldn’t afford.  It just didn’t make sense to get a cab to go the two miles to his apartment.  It was a straight shot down Walnut Street from the pub and he’d driven it a hundred times over his years at the school.

Jake tapped the unlock button on his key fob and redirected himself away from a similar black sedan.  He placed a forearm against the back seat’s window and leaned heavily against his car.  After several unsuccessful attempts to open the driver’s door, he finally got it open and sat down in the seat.

He tried to fit the key into the ignition, but the damn thing wouldn’t go so he gently turned the steering wheel back and forth – sometimes it locked up and that helped the key to turn.  It still didn’t work and he pulled the keys out in frustration and held them up into the dim light of his car’s interior.

“Goddammit,” he murmured and slapped his hand ineffectually against the door handle.  “I need… light.”

Somehow, Jake’s hand caught against the handle and the door clicked open. 
Yes
!
h
e
congratulated himself and shoved against the door.  It went flying outward and he barely caught himself on the steering wheel.

“
Sombitch,” he cursed and then began to giggle.  “Didn’t get me!”

He held the keys up into the weak dome lighting and realized that he’d been using his apartment key instead of the car key.  The older cars like his didn’t have the fancy molded plastic keys like the new ones; all the keys on his key ring were plain nickel-colored metal.

He sorted through them until he found the GM key and once again crammed it into the ignition.  It slid in without any problems this time.  Jake snorted at his stupidity and reached out to close the door.

A low moan startled him and he instinctively jerked his hand away from the handle.  “What the fuck?”

The moan repeated from somewhere behind him and he checked his rearview mirror.  His eyes went wide and he jerked the keys from the ignition when he saw the cop sauntering his way.  Jake tried his hardest to remember if it was legal for him to be sitting in a car – drunk – if the keys weren’t in the ignition.  Or was it still considered a DUI? 
Dammit, why didn’t I pay more attention in Criminology class?

He did the only thing he could think to do and chucked the keys in the back seat.  There was no way that the cop could say he was planning on driving, Jake was just sitting in his car trying to sleep it off.  He chuckled to himself once more because he’d outsmarted the stupid police.

The noise rang out in the night once again and he whipped his head around.  “Was that…  Did the cop just yell at me or something?”

No one was in the car to answer him so he just placed both hands plainly on the steering wheel and waited for the man to arrive.  His features were hidden in shadow, but something seemed
familiar about the cop to Jake.  He couldn’t quite put a finger on it until the guy was near the back of his car.

Then he recognized Kyle, the campus rent-a-cop. 
Must be mad that I hit his little go cart earlier
.
Suddenly, Jake got extremely mad. 
Who the fuck does this guy think he is, tracking me down?

Jake
practically fell out of his car and stood on shaky legs.  He pointed a finger at the security guard and shouted, “Hey!  You’re not on school property and you don’t have jurisdiction out here.”

Kyle stopped and tilted his head like he was seeing Jake for the first time.  It was really creepy and a
n involuntary chill ran down his spine.  The security guard’s features were still draped in shadow and Jake couldn’t help but feel like the night was going strangely – even with the twelve-pack that he’d put away at the pub.

“You hear me, bro?” Jake said with more confidence than he felt.  “You
ain’tgo
t
n
o
right to be out here pretending to be a real cop.”

Kyle continued to regard him with a tilted head and then he leapt.  Jake beat drunkenly against his attacker, but it was ov
er before it started as the sickness transferred from Kyle's saliva to the unfortunate college student.