Infected

(600) "Infected," By Jonni Michelle

Blood splattered against the porcelain, obscenely pink, a hundred round speckles running into one another and leaving a trail of red on white.

Junior coughed again, attempting to expell the vicious fluid building in his aching lungs. More blood, the sight making his head spin unpleasantly. Plus a throbbing bitch of a migraine had made itself comfortable.

The adolescent could feel the deadening begin to set in his nerve endings like the fine placing of splintered glass. The tips of his fingers were numb; nose, toes and cheeks tingling like a live wire. Soon the disease would reach his brain and render him stupid and mean like all the rest. His guts would be black with decay if the others didn't eat them right out of his stomach.

Junior shivered violently before contributing a mess of half-digested, dehydrated foods to the toilet bowl. Flushed it out of habit, even though the pipe gurgled pointlessly, protesting in a squeaky snarl of faulty plumbing.

The radio positioned above the sink issued a scream of static followed by a faint voice, a recording that had been playing for weeks now.

"Please stay indoors and remain calm ," a woman recited."Quarantine will be removed shortly. Medical attention is on the way."

A short pause."Please stay indoors and remain-"

"Shut the fuck up!" He screamed.

A rat shot from behind the tank and skittered out and down the hallway, sniffing at the scent of disease as it passed. The boy moaned, clutching his stomach and watching its patchy black body with distrust.

Fucking rats.

They were the reason for all of it. Everything. Carriers of the second plague, the end of the world.

Mean little Bastards- engineered for destruction or simply a byproduct of evolution. It wasn't the reason that was important. It was the effect.

Junior leapt after the nasty thing, blocking the pain and concentrating it all into the moment he crushed it under a heavy boot. The thing shrieked and gave way to a heavy crunch, little bones popping in its skinny pelt.

He scraped a bloody tuft of hair off his heel and slumped against the wall, resigned.

"-will be removed shortly. Medical attention is on the way. Please stay-"

Bullshit.

The voice wormed through his skull as consciousness tried to evade him, vision doubling, trippeling, blackening.

:.........

Junior started awake, slimy and cold with sweat. His sister Anna was fast asleep in the bunk above him, snoring softly.

Crickets chirped. Rain tittered on the shed out back. He could hear his mother giggling in the next room, his fathers rough whisper.

The dream slipped away, growing faint and invalid. Within minutes it had been almost entirely forgotten.

Instead he watched the family cat, Marty, staring intently into the dark. The cats tail twitched, its whiskers aquiver in absolute rapture. Probably a spider, Junior thought. Dumb animal.

The boy turned away, facing the wall. Closed his eyes and attempted to sleep away the early morning.

An itch near his foot forced him upright. The boy scratched it madly, squinting through the darkness at the source of his aggravation, finally clicking on the bedside lamp to observe the damage.

Damn spiders, always crawling into your bed and sneaking out of the shower drain. Dropping on your head if they fancy. A particularly nasty one must have caused the frightful itch, the nightmare.

A rat watched him from the safety of the boys bookshelf, eyes rheumy and red,observing as Junior discovered the small bite on his ankle.