Bitten

by Matt Shaw

  I stuck the syringe into the keyhole of the handcuff and started to wriggle it around. I didn’t have a clue what I am doing - it’s just something I’ve seen the bad guys do in films I’ve watched in the past. Bad guys? Am I the bad guy now? Don’t get caught up thinking about that now - concentrate on the task at hand.

  Click

  Really? Is that it? I pulled the syringe from the keyhole and the latch popped open freeing my wrist. It feels so good to be free from the harsh metal. I threw the handcuff onto the bed and rubbed my aching wrist. Who would have thought that would’ve been so easy? The first bit of luck I’ve felt for a while. Certainly the first time I’ve felt a little gratitude towards something.

  I turned my attention back to the exit. Definitely not a wise move going out of the door still and the only other exit seemed to be the window. What’s the betting I’m not on the ground floor? I shuffled my way across and pulled back the flimsy blinds which covered the window. Oh - what a surprise - at least two stories up. I glanced back at the door and wondered whether it could be possible that there was no one waiting on the other side. Maybe they were there but I’ve timed it just right and they’re on a well-deserved break? Could happen.

  No. Stupid. Just because I’ve had a little luck with the handcuffs - it doesn’t mean Lady Luck is smiling down at me. The window is the best option. Not the safest, granted, but still the best available to me at the moment.

  I turned back to the window. At least there weren’t any locks on it stopping me from being able to open it, I thought. A quick fumble with the latches and a sudden gust of wind blew in as I pushed the window to its maximum opening capacity. The cold air brought the hospital gown, that I was wearing, to my attention. Why do they put you in these things? Couldn’t they at least give you some normal night wear? At least something which did up properly at the back so you didn’t have to flash your naked ass to the world? Forget about it. Bigger things to worry about - namely falling to my impending death. It’s strange - looking up to a second story, from the floor, and you don’t think it’s too far but, looking down to the ground from the second floor...Yeah...That’s high.

  For reasons unknown to me, the R Kelly song “I believe I can fly” starts to play in my mind. I blame the hit I suffered. No other reason that crap would be playing. Certainly not a song I’d listen to by choice. And definitely not something I want looping through my mind as I plummet to my death.

  “I believe I can fly...I believe I can touch the sky...I think about it every night and day...Spread my wings and fly away...I believe I can soar...”

  I swear, I fall to my death with this shit bouncing around my brain and I will not be happy. Nervously I climbed up onto the window ledge. Great - I’ve added an extra couple of feet to the distance between the concrete and myself. Seriously no idea what I’m doing here. They make it look so easy in the movies; jump onto ledge, a quick look around to whatever bad guy is closing in on them, close their eyes and leap...Fall several hundred feet, land in dumpster, climb out and shake themselves off, turn around and realise the bad guy is now standing just a few feet away. Must stop taking the movies as Gospel...

  Looking down to the ground below made me I wish I were shorter. I was always proud to be six foot two. A sign of masculinity being height - in my eyes at least. Now I’m not so sure. If I were shorter, I’d be closer to the ground. Might not hurt as much when I bounce off whatever I’m about to land on.

  I held on tightly to the sides of the window frame and looked left to right. Lady Luck fortunes me as I notice a thin ledge just underneath the window. Not enough of a ledge to comfortably walk to the next window but, if I’m careful and take it easy, enough of a ledge to slowly edge my way across. And speaking of the next window - Lady Luck certainly does have a beautiful smile as I notice that the window is open; no doubt giving some much needed air to whoever is in the next room desperately trying to get away from the stench of various cleaning products used by the hospital. Or it’s open to air the room from the stink of death as the occupant’s smell lingers from where they passed during the afternoon? Dark thought. Not sure where that came from. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that the window is open and it’s my best shot of getting out of here.

  Slowly I stepped down onto the ledge. Keeping my back tight against the wall and ignoring the breeze which seemingly wanted me to fall to my death, I slowly edged my way to the left. Careful. Careful. Don’t look down. Don’t...Fuck....Looked down. A long way down. My legs turned to jelly and I started to wobble as panic set in. Forget about the distance. Forget about the drop. So close to the window. The open window. Concentrate on that. Besides - you can’t die now. Not until you’ve discovered whether the window is open to give the occupant some air or to help shift the smell of death. Now you’ve thought about it, you can’t help but wonder which it is. You can’t die until you know. Think about that. Think about pulling your body in. Think about that. So close. The open window beckoning me. With each instruction, from my mind, I edge my way ever closer until I’m close enough to reach out with a hand and touch the edge of the frame. A firm grip with my left hand. Nearly safe. I slide my left foot onto the window ledge. A little bit closer and I can get my right foot on. Perfect.

  Surprisingly I can barely feel my heart beating when I finally slide through the open window and back onto the safety of the hospital floor. I’d have thought it would have been beating like a sledge-hammer hitting the inside of my chest. Must be whatever medication they were pumping me with to try and get me feeling better again. Yeah - that must be it. Medication. Certainly nothing to do with that strange woman biting me. Her saliva infecting me with whatever poisons her own blood. Certainly nothing to do with that. Jesus. What if she had AIDS? Is that it? Was that why she appeared to be so rabid? AIDS infecting her bloodstream? And now it’s flowing through my own? Can’t help but wonder which would be worse - a vampiric infection or AIDS. At least there’s less of a stigma attached to vampires.

  Regardless of my heart’s status, I can’t help but feel a wave of relief rush through me as I came to realise that there was no chance of falling now. Just wish some of my friends had seen what I had just accomplished. A fucking action hero. Who’d have thought? Hope they believe me, when I tell them, because I will not be doing it again.

  A machine beeping behind me reminded me to pay more attention to my surroundings and less to my rather random thoughts - to which I still blame the bang I must have sustained to my head during whatever the hell had happened to me. A few feet from where I shakily stand is another bed with someone lying upon it. That answers that question then. Although, looking at them, it doesn’t look as though they’re that far away from death. Just as I awoke to find myself full of tubes, this person will also find themselves waking in the same state. A man. Not sure what happened to him. Shame we can’t trade places. At least he looks peaceful.

  Forget about him. He’s not important. Just get out of there before someone spots you. I turned towards the door which would lead to my escape and spotted some clothes on a chair by the side of the man’s bed. Well - looking at him - he won’t be needing them any time soon. Surely he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed them? Could even leave him a note explaining I’ll return them once I’m done. No. That would be stupid. Just take them. Chances are he won’t be waking up anytime soon anyway and they’re not the sort of clothes your family would want you buried in. Unless they didn’t like you.

  I limped across to where the clothes were neatly folded. Nice. They looked as though they’d only recently been washed. The thought of sliding into clean clothes made me feel less of a tramp compared to sliding into dirty clothes. I threw my tatty hospital gown to the floor and stepped into the grey trousers before pulling the blue sweater over my head. No time to be fussy but - fuck - this guy’s style is seriously lacking. Doesn’t matter. Just nice to wear something which doesn’t offer the world the chance to see my ass.

  Next to the stranger’s bed, under the chair where the
clothes had been, were a pair of black shoes. Without a second’s thought I stepped into them. A little bit tight but better than going out barefooted. Okay. Good. I turned back towards the door and stretched my hand out towards the handle. Least I look like a hospital visitor now and not a....Wait a minute...I raised my hand to my head. The bandages. Can’t believe I nearly forgot that. I’d surely be stopped if I were to leave the room wearing the bandages still - a sure indicator I’m anything but a regular visitor.

  I pulled the bandage from my head and dropped it. It hadn’t even landed before I did the same with the bandage stuck to my neck. A slight sting as I pulled that one free. Seriously - do they have to use so much tape to stick them to the skin? Sadists.

  Okay - bandages off, clothes on...This is as good as it’s going to get for me. Time to leave!

  I walked out of the hospital with relative ease considering the pain I was in. I worried, with every step I took, that someone would realise that I was a patient and force me back to my room - where they’d soon discover I’m also under arrest for something or other.

  The cold air hit me hard and made my already aching head pound harder. A tear welled up in one of my eyes as I tried to ignore the intense pain. Was it a car that had hit me or a bus? Hell, the way I’m feeling - could even have been a fucking train which had caught me.

  A moment of panic hit home, along with the headaches, when I realized that I didn’t have any car keys or money with which I could have paid for a taxi home. Another moment of panic as I realised my home could well have been compromised. I had, after all, had a wallet with me when I had been struck so they’d know who I was. When they realise I’ve discharged myself, through the back exit, they’ll no doubt go looking for me at my house. Shit. Worse still, before the police and paramedics arrived...She could have taken my wallet. A taste for the blood she feasted upon, she could be waiting at my house, right now, to finish her midnight snack. Definitely can’t go home. A quick thought to my wife flashes through my mind. I feel as though I should warn her but the way things have been going between us recently...Cheaper than a divorce. Jesus. Another dark thought.

  Remembering Helen of Troy reminded me of my neck wound, a pulsating throbbing - from where her teeth had sunk into my neck - made worse by the cold air flowing against it. Shouldn’t have thrown the bandage on the floor. Should have put it in my pocket so I could reapply it now. Funny how you think of these things when it’s too late.

  Forget about it. No sense worrying about the things I can do little about. The important thing, for now, is to get off the street. Get out of the open. Rest up and heal...

  I need a friend. Easier said than done. Most of my friends were only through my marriage and that was only because they liked my wife. They liked her. They tolerated me. I never was very good at making friends. How I even met my wife in the first place I’ll never know.

  I looked from left to right with no idea on the best direction to take. The problem with being unconscious when you arrive at a destination is, it makes it harder to find your way back to where you truly belong. Could just get a taxi? What? No you couldn’t, you idiot. You don’t have any money. Who cares? Hail a cab and then do a runner when you reach your destination? A tempting thought silenced only after a little wobble in my legs. I won’t be running anywhere and - if I did - I won’t be hard to catch.

  Just start walking.

  Find a friend - recuperate and then take things from there...

  Chapter Two

  Finding a friend was easier said than done. By the time I got to their home the sun was starting to come up and I was feeling even worse than when I had originally woken up in the hospital. On the plus side, the fresh air had helped my headache. Shame it didn’t help the soreness of my neck though which continued to throb like a son of a bitch. Can’t seem to shake the stupid thoughts of ‘vampires’ from my mind. What is that all about - seriously? It’s not as though they’ve ever crossed my mind before. Even when I was younger and suffering from nightmares which my mum would comfort me from - vampires were never something which usually bothered me. She was just a nutter. Nothing more, nothing less. If I keep telling myself that I might actually start believing it. Maybe.

  I was standing at Jen’s door with my hand poised ready to rap on the wooden panel. One of my oldest friends, back from college, I had no idea what I was going to say to her about my current state. No doubt she’d be concerned and try and get help but I can’t allow that. Not until I know what had happened to me and why I’m supposedly under arrest.

  I don’t know - the more I stand here thinking about it - maybe this isn’t the best of ideas? Perhaps I should find somewhere else to hole up for a bit?

  No.

  Has to be here.

  There is nowhere else. Can’t go home. Can’t check into a hotel - not without money. Maybe I could just borrow some money from her? I could promise to pay it back when I’m better and have cleared my name from whatever it needs clearing of.

  Suddenly the front door opened, making me jump, and Jen appeared - dressed for work. She also jumped when she saw me. To be expected. Neither of us were expecting to see each other at that particular moment.

  “Adam, you scared the shit out of me...What are you doing here?” she asked as she got her breath back. “Haven’t seen you in...” she’s looking at my neck, “...What’s happened to you?”

  “Can I come in?” I asked. Normally I’d have waited for an answer but I really needed to sit down before I fell down. I pushed past her into the hallway. Thankfully she closed the door behind me - I guess her way of saying it was ‘fine’ for me to pop in.

  “You okay?” she asked. She stepped past me and opened the door to her living room, “Take a seat...” I walked in and crashed down on her sofa just as she had offered. I knew she wouldn’t have turned me down. My dear friend, Jen. Friends for as long as I can remember. She sat down next to me, her eyes still fixed on my bleeding neck. “You been bitten?”

  “Animal...” I muttered. “Long night...” Whatever I thought the woman to be - she was definitely an animal so technically I hadn’t lied to Jen. Yet.

  She leaned over to a small coffee table, which was next to the sofa, and picked up a handset of a cordless telephone which rested there. “Should call someone,” she said under her breath.

  I snatched the phone from her, “No. Just need to rest a minute...I’m fine...Honestly. Just needed to rest for a while. Get my strength back and I’ll be...”

  “Where did you come from?” she asked without waiting for me to answer the other posed question. “Why didn’t you just go home?” She looked at the time and muttered something under her breath - something I didn’t catch which was rather annoying. “I need to get to work, you’re welcome to wait here a while,” she offered.

  She went to get up but I stopped her with my hand around the top of her arm, “Wait!” She dropped back onto the settee. “Don’t go, please...”

  She’s looking at me as though she’s concerned.

  “What happened to you?” she asked.

  I did my best to think on my feet, “I was out walking in the woods when something came at me...”

  “Something came at you?”

  I nodded, “Something attacked me - not sure what - it was dark. I remember falling backwards. The next thing I knew, I was walking near here. It was like I was on autopilot.”

  She looked at my head, “Well you’ve clearly suffered a bang. Maybe when you fell backwards? Why were you out walking in the woods?” she asked.

  Dammit. I was hoping she wouldn’t ask that.

  “I don’t remember,” I lied. It’s easier to pretend to be concussed as it allows me the chance to get away with more in terms of how in-depth I need go with my story. Less chance of being caught out with my lies too.

  “I should take you to the hospital,” she continued, “get you checked over properly.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, “I’m just tired and feeling a little stupid...Can I
just get freshened up here for a bit?” I asked. “Soon as I feel better I’ll go home,” I lied once more. I won’t go home. Can’t. Not whilst I don’t know what the police want with me.

  She hesitated. Not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

  “Let me phone into the office,” she said, “I’ll take a sick day. Wait here,” she told me. She stood up and walked through to the other room, after taking the phone back again.

  I sat there and patiently waited for her to come back, desperately straining to hear her telephone conversation in the other room. I’m one hundred percent sure that I can trust her but, given the situation I’ve found myself in, I really need to be one hundred and ten percent. I can’t hear her voice yet - just pacing as she goes back and forwards in one of the rooms; the kitchen, I’m guessing. Ah, there she is...Definitely not the hospital she’s on the phone to. Something about not feeling well. Something about up all night. She’s apologising and hopes she’ll be back by tomorrow.