by Urban, Ami
THE RABID: ADDENDUM
Ami Urban
Ami Urban
THE RABID: ADDENDUM
© 2018, Irish Anonymous
Self-published
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, stored in a database and / or published in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Addendum
To
Catastrophic Incident 10052042
Washington, D.C.
This addendum, signed by the Departments of Homeland Security, Defense and Interior supports Federal efforts in the response to catastrophic incidents as described in the Narrative Summaries of Incident 10052042 [THE RABID] and Emergency Search and Rescue.
To support national, interagency Search and Rescue (SAR) response efforts following Incident 10052042, the National Search and Rescue Committee collected and reviewed the contents of this addendum as guidance for Federal SAR responders.
Please note that the individuals identified in this addendum should not be approached without support. They are to be considered armed and dangerous.
On behalf of the National Search and Rescue Committee,
Dr. David A. Wood
CLASSIFIED
OFFICE OF STRATEGIC SERVICES
WASHINGTON, D.C.
FBI WASHINGTON
9-21-32
URGENT
AT APPROXIMATELY 19:50, THIS OFFICE RECEIVED A TELEPHONIC COMMUNICATION THAT TWO JOURNALS WERE RE COVERED NEAR TEHACHEPI, CALIFORNIA FOLLOWING INCIDENT [REDACTED].
JOURNAL NO. 1 CONTAINS APPROXIMATELY THREE-HUNDRED PAGES AND IS HARD-BOUND. SOURCE IS A CAUCASIAN MALE: JACK REYNOLDS, AUTOMOTIVE MECHANIC, THIRTY-FIVE YEARS OF AGE.
JOURNAL NO. 2 CONTAINS APPROXIMATELY FOUR-HUNDRED PAGES AND IS SOFT-BOUND IN RED. SOURCE IS A CAUCASIAN FEMALE: LISA REYNOLDS, DOCTOR OF MEDICINE, THIRTY-THREE YEARS OF AGE.
JOURNALS BEING TRANSPORTED TO [REDACTED] BY PLANE FOR EXAMINATION. ATTACHED DOCUMENTS ARE CLASSIFIED SECRET. FURTHER INVESTIGATIONS ARE BEING CONDUCTED.
END
ASSOCIATED DOCUMENTS
- TWO (2) JOURNALS, APPROXIMATELY 103,000 TOTAL WORDS IN LENGTH
- INVESTIGATIVE ELEMENTS OF RHABDOVIRUS VACCINE AND ANTIDOTE
- POSSIBLE WHEREABOUTS OF J. REYNOLDS AND L. REYNOLDS
Emergency Department Record
Emerald Bluff Hospital
[REDACTED] UT, 84512
[REDACTED]
PATIENT:Langford, Scott P.
DOB:[REDACTED]
WEIGHT:167 lbs
HEIGHT:5 ft. 10 in.
PROVIDER:Dr. B, MD
MRN:[REDACTED]
Acct No.: N/A
DOS:[REDACTED]
CHIEF COMPLAINT:Hairy Psalms
CURRENT MEDS:[REDACTED]
ALLERGIES:Zombie bites
SOURCE:Information obtained from patient
MODE OF ARRIVAL:Gurney
PREHOSPITAL:
Intervention(s):None
HISTORY OF PATIENT ILLNESS:Patient is a 20 YO male who presents with an infected bite on the left bicep. Physician assessment time was [REDACTED]. Nursing notes were reviewed, and the following are my comments: The onset time was approximately [REDACTED]. Patient was bitten by infected individual on left upper arm. Damage to outside tissue was minimal. There is semicircular tissue loss of 3x4 cm on left bicep with irregular margins. No other injuries present.
Patient experienced physical symptoms of rabies such as hydrophobia and violent muscle spasms. Patient was immediately given the antidote and vaccine, followed by shock therapy. Patient has since responded positively to treatment and will likely make a full recovery. No zombification here, y’all.
PAST MEDICAL HISTORY:[REDACTED]
FAMILY HISTORY:[REDACTED]
Unknown Date – Jack Reynolds
So much blood.
It was too hot. The whole bunker was too damn hot. The smell of dried, coagulated blood was overwhelming. It coated the back of my throat with a metallic tang. My mouth was dry. I couldn’t swallow.
Everything was drenched in red. The shiny white porcelain of the tub was thick with overflowing sludge. Black rivulets of slime cascaded over the linoleum tiles. The walls began to peel, blood poured from each tear. Not this shit again.
I tried to call out, but when I opened my mouth, blood and clots of tissue ran from it in a river. Spongey flesh squished between my teeth, causing my stomach to lurch.
And I think the vomit finally woke me up. I chucked what was left of my dinner into the trashcan near the pull-out sofa. It didn’t leave easy, either. The violent seizure of muscles tightened my throat as I coughed the rest out in short bursts.
Sweat had pooled under my lower back and when I flopped into bed, the sheets clung to me. My wife stirred next to me, then rolled over, placing a hand on my arm.
“Are you alright?”
I groaned as I sat up. My body just didn’t work like it used to. Propping myself against the cushions, I rubbed my left knee. The bullet wasn’t there anymore, but the pain sure was. And for some reason, puking made it worse.
I laid my head back. “I ate the fucking baby.” My voice was hoarse. I put a hand over my eyes.
“Again?”
“Mm.”
Sheets rustled next to me as my wife sat up. “I can give you a Trazadone.” She didn’t wait for my answer, only reached over to the bedside table for an orange bottle of pills. I just nodded without a word. Like I was on autopilot. Just like almost every other night.
She handed me the pill. I looked at the dumb little thing in my hand. Stark white against the paleness of my skin. Sweat dripped down my back, tickling my spine. The longer I looked at the pill, the stronger the taste of bile became.
“Do you need a Zofran, too?”
I looked at her. There was sincerity and pain in her eyes. “No. It’s pretty much all out,” I said. Flicking my wrist, I popped the pill into the air and caught it. “On second thought… I’m done sleeping.”
I hadn’t even realized what time it was until I ventured into the kitchen for a glass of water. Well, kitchen is giving the room too much credit. The little bunker we found only had half a kitchen – a fridge in one corner, a sink and a toaster oven. That and a lot of canned food.
Water was also putting it mildly. What came out of the tap was a pallid yellow, always cold and tasted…stale somehow. But it quenched your thirst and didn’t make you shit liquid.
It was sickly hot again in that little room. What I wouldn’t have given to open the bunker door and let the fresh night air in. The large padlock stared back at me, mocking me. I hadn’t been outside in…
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket. The thing hadn’t made or received a single call in almost a year. The words “No service” had been there for so long I was worried it’d burn into the screen. I wasn’t even sure if the date and time were right.
A soft noise pulled my thoughts back into reality. I fixed my gaze on the dark living room. And when I say living room I mean twenty-year-old pull-out sofa in dire need of repair in front of a 1970’s tube television with those silver rabbit-ear antennas. Of course, there was no cable. Not even satellite. Just a bunch of old movies we’d all seen four times already.
Something moved ever-so-slightly in the dark. I knew I’d sensed it. Someone was awake at two in the morning. Someone who shouldn’t have been. My wife had gone in to the only bedroom to check on her son, and a moment later, the sliver of light blinked briefly as someone passed in front of the door.
I slid some construction paper and a marker across the table to me. The kids had be
en drawing farm animals all day. A pink, misshapen duck was the only surviving piece of art from that day. Why? I have no idea. The damn thing had four legs.
I scribbled my note, then held it up toward the living room. I could tell when Lexi had read my message urging her to go back to bed because she stood up from behind the sofa and halfway into the light.
“I’m thirsty.” Her voice was no more than a whisper.
Following a lengthy sigh that felt like I’d unloaded a gravel truck’s worth of grief mixed with terror, I nodded, motioning for her to sit with me. She approached slowly, almost as if feeling me out to see if I was gonna yell.
Jesus. Did I have Resting Bitch Face or what?
Lexi filled a clean glass with sink water and came to the table. On instinct, she went to her usual seat to my right, but then hesitated. Instead, she chose to sit at a spot at the table typically unoccupied at dinner. Farther away from me.
She sat down, plopping her full glass in front of her, then crossing her arms. Her brown, kinky hair was pulled up in a bun. There were dark circles under her eyes. No, not dark circles. It was…smeared mascara.
My back creaked at the sudden straightening of my spine.
When the actual ass did Lexi start wearing mascara? My stomach flip-flopped at the thought of my wife piercing her ears last month! A girl her age shouldn’t be wearing makeup and getting her ears pierced!
“Is Aunt Lisa not having the baby anymore?”
Her somber question snapped me back into reality. She’d always been far beyond her years, but pride never failed to swell in me when her intuition was spot the fuck on.
I cleared my throat while pushing a hand through my hair. Before I could open my mouth to speak, she continued.
“Don’t bullshit me.”
“Wha—? Hey! Language!” Not like I cared. Canned response.
Lexi rolled her eyes and took a sip of water. Her nose wrinkled when the taste hit her. Never failed.
“No. She’s not having the baby anymore.” I couldn’t hide the darkness in my tone. There was a moment’s silence.
“That sucks.” She took a large gulp of water. “So, you gonna make another one?”
My head fell to the table where I pretended to bang it twice against the wood. “This conversation isn’t happening.”
“It so is.” A giggle escaped her. “What’s stopping you from just getting her preggers again?”
I snapped my head up. “Did I have that talk with you?” My voice came out way too high. “Who had that talk with you?”
“Oh, please.” Lexi waved a hand in front of her face. “Aunt Lisa had the talk with me way early. Besides, what else could you both be doing all day on Tuesdays when I have to stay in the room?”
The breath caught in my throat. In that moment, I realized she wasn’t the cool little girl I’d met two years ago. The cool little girl who asked me to teach her Morse code and the NATO alphabet. The cool little girl who had the patience of a saint when she played with her autistic cousin. The cool little girl who wanted to learn about cars while I worked on them had now transformed into an awesome young woman who was fluent in SOS-speak, could change your oil or brakes and was wearing fucking makeup.
“Didn’t we say no makeup until you were fourteen?” My voice took on a lower tone, almost making up for my high-pitched outburst from before.
Lexi tossed her head back and let out a groan. “Oh, my God! I knew you had no idea what was going on!” She looked at me, fire burning behind her dark eyes. “My fourteenth birthday was last month! That’s why I wanted Aunt Lisa to pierce my ears! But no!” She drew out the word, her eyes rolling to the back of her head for a brief second. “You go and flip serious shit, not even realizing how old I actually am!”
For a second, I couldn’t think of anything to say. She was right. I not only forgot her birthday, but I’d forgotten my own. And I acted like a dick the whole day. I’m the asshole. Preoccupied with grief over a baby I never even had.
Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ on a smoked salmon and cream cheese crudité.
How the fuck was I supposed to apologize for that? She sat in front of me then, her cheeks flaming pink, resenting me for not giving a shit about an important day in her life.
“I’ll have you know—” my mouth refused to shut itself, “I got you a present. It was a pony. But Amazon lost the package.”
A short pause later and she was breaking up laughing. I let out a breath in a long whoosh, happy I was able to diffuse a tense situation. It didn’t last long.
“You owe me.”
“Guess I wasn’t getting out of that one. But I’m not sure how much I can do.”
After she’d downed the rest of her water, the glass slapped back on the table with a sharp ring. “I’ve been reading about nuclear fallout.”
Jesus. “Lexi…” I put on my ‘dad-tone,’ as she called it.
“Even if they dropped the largest nuclear bomb right outside of Braycart, we’d only need to stay here a max of four days and—”
“Lexi!” My voice was perhaps louder than I’d intended because she’d jumped a little and stopped talking, her eyes wide. “I’ve made myself very clear these last few months that I’m not willing to risk everyone’s health for a breath of fresh air.”
“Few months?” Lexi slammed her hands down on the table, causing the glass to shake. She stood so fast the chair scraped across the tiles, the sound ringing throughout the small kitchen. “It’s been nine months, sixteen days and four hours. I’ve counted every second because this place sucks major ass!”
“Slow your roll, Lexi.”
But she didn’t sit down. Her fists clenched and unclenched by her sides. “There is zero chance of radiation poisoning—”
“Lexi—”
“Zero chance. And if you don’t open that door tomorrow, then I will.”
We stared each other down for what felt like hours. I wasn’t going to concede but was hoping she would. I couldn’t explain why I was right. I just knew it. Radiation sits on the ground for years. People were still getting cancer in Hiroshima. No, we weren’t leaving.
But she wasn’t backing down. And I knew she’d follow through on what she’d said. No joke. Alexandra Hargrave kept her word. Once she made a decision, there was little anyone could do to change her mind.
Fuck. I had to stop her from opening the door. We kept staring each other down, like two hungry coyotes fighting for a meal. The thought of food caused my stomach to flip-flop.
“I’ll do it.”
“No, you wo—”
The screeching of the bedroom door interrupted my command. My wife appeared, stopping in her tracks when she saw Lexi.
“Oh, there you are. Are you alright?” She asked, coming around and smoothing the hair on top of her head.
“Yup.” She looked back at me, a smug smile pulling at her mouth. “Just thirsty. Night, Uncle Jack.”
I grumbled after her, watching the rectangle of light appear and disappear once more. Then, I turned back to Lisa. She padded toward me wearing a thin robe. I could see the outline of her naked body underneath. A shock of arousal ran through me. She sat opposite me at the small table.
“Any chance you’d like to talk about it?” Her gaze bored into mine. She reached for my hand as she spoke. Why did she have to be so beautiful? So well-put-together? Why couldn’t we just have this child?
I sniffed. “No.” A slight nasally tone laced my words. “It’s not Tuesday.” That was all I could say. It felt curt, but by now she understood. I couldn’t talk about it. I could only talk about it once a week without going completely insane. That was on Tuesdays. And it wasn’t Tuesday.
Lisa nodded, a lock of her dark hair falling over one shoulder. “Well, then…” She paused, searching for the right words, no doubt. “How about those Jets?”
I felt a smile tug at my mouth. “The Jets suck, woman.”
She smiled in return, lifting both eyebrows. “All sports are violent.
All of them can easily kill a person. I don’t like them at all.”
“Ditto,” I said. “At least your small talk is improving.” My thumb absently stroked the back of her hand.
“No thanks to you.” She stood, a playful smile in her eyes and not on her mouth.
I scrunched up my face. “Ooh, burn.”
“Oh.” She turned back to me. “We have ointment for that.”
I let my mouth drop open comically. “Two for one special.”
“It comes with French fries,” she said, her eyes still twinkling as she came around the table to me.
I watched her move like water. So smooth and so enticing. I couldn’t help it. I gave her a light smack on the ass. “And a milkshake.”
She tapped my shoulder with her hand as if to scold me. “You’re insatiable.”
Humor passed before my eyes. “You have no idea…” Her hand left my shoulder, making the tiniest swish sound as the fabric of my t-shirt pulled back. But I turned to catch her wrist, pulling her down onto my lap. The night wasn’t over yet.
***
The tiny washing room was longer than it was wide. With about four feet of clearance on one side, it was almost impossible to fit one person in there, let alone two. And somehow, we managed to tumble in. The human libido is a powerful thing. And Lisa and I had to take it when and where we could get it. This mostly consisted of stand-up quickies or the like in the most random of places in case one of the kids walked in.
“Ow! Wait! Okay. Now go… No. This way.” I caught Lisa’s wrist as the back of her hand was about to make contact with my face. “Now you know hitting is only a Thursday night fetish.”
She giggled, blush creeping into her cheeks. I tightened my grip on her just a bit. There was about an inch of clearance behind me, and Lisa was backed up against the dryer. We were a tangle of legs and arms, trying to figure out what went where.
Lisa shifted her weight, standing on my right foot. Sliding the other away from her, I winced. Catching on, she looked down, gasped and apologized.