Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 (26 page)

Fifteen minutes of torture later Amiel held her breath, flicked off the employee room light, and flew out the main doors with a terrified squeak. Fingers shaking, she locked the doors and ran to her bike. With the reassuring rumble of the bike beneath her, Amiel smiled at how silly she must have looked, running through the restaurant like a ghost was on her tail. Pulling ahead into the night, she flipped on the GPS and headed home.

Heated chills crawled across Amiel’s skin in an all too familiar, sickening way. The tags no longer comforted her; they were urgently warning her. She slowed the bike, hoping to better pinpoint the source and direction of danger. The last thing she wanted to do was run headlong into a pack of Rabids, alone, in the dark.

That’s when she heard the screams; the scream of a woman, followed by the barely inhuman screams of Rabes. A voice in her head warned against going in search of screams in the night, every horror movie she’d ever seen replaying in her mind. So, unlike all of the stupid women in those horror movies, Amiel ignored the sounds, instead sending up a prayer for whomever or whatever was screaming. Part of Amiel’s conscience angrily chastised her for her cowardice. The bigger part applauded.

Turning to head the other direction, her heart slammed against her ribcage in a staccato rhythm that left her breathless.
Get out of here!
a distant part of her mind screamed, but it was too late. A trio of Rabes stepped out of the dark alley ahead. Just like that her determination to run melted into a blood-lusty anger. Pain seared her heart and she let out a scream as the world seeped into a familiar black fog.

When the world finally returned, it was to find a pair of blue eyes staring down at her in concern. Brain fog receding slowly, Amiel realized it was Joyce. Scrambling to her feet too quickly, Amiel had to bend at the waist for a moment as the world spun around her.

“Joyce?” she asked blearily. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, Suga,” Joyce replied, looking around cautiously. “Was waitin’ for my bus, and outta nowhere them Rabids come runnin’ me down! One minute I’m screamin’ my head off, bein’ chased by three Rabids and scramblin’ up a light pole like a friggin’ squirrel in heels. Then they just stopped and sniffed the air. Weirdest thing I ever did see, but they turned and ran off the other direction. Then I hear this blood chillin’ scream from
somethin’
out there, a whole lotta ruckus and then just silence.” She gushed out in a winded sentence that ended with a heavy shudder. “It was so eerie, Amiel. All these awful noises, then it just goes quiet as a tomb. That’s about the time I ended up fallin’ off the pole onto my buttikins, and there’s no way in hells bells I was gonna make it back up there again. I’m surprised I made it up there at all in this thing.” She shrugged, tugging at the plastic suit.

“It was so quiet I took my chances, hopin’ the coast was clear. And there they were, and here you are.” She shrugged again, at a loss. It wasn’t until then, that Amiel realized three Rabids lay at their feet, ripped apart in a gory display. With dread, she looked down at herself. It was too dark to tell, but she had no doubt that the wetness soaking her was Rabid blood. Swallowing hard, Amiel looked around for her bike, finding it lying on its side a few feet away.

“Closest I can figure, y’all musta crashed on one of them bodies,” Joyce reasoned, edging away from the carnage. Amiel just nodded quietly. She knew that wasn’t what had happened, but refused to voice the truth. Joyce followed behind, nervously watching the shadows. “Where y’all goin’?” she squeaked out.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home, Joyce,” Amiel muttered, grunting as she pulled her bike upward, praying her body hadn’t been as scratched up by the Rabids as her bike had been.

“Holy guacamole, y’all must have some undercover muscle liftin’ that thing ‘round like that. I need to start goin’ to the gym,” Joyce muttered, hesitating. 

“It’s not as heavy as it looks. Ready to go?” Amiel urged again, more than eager for this night to be over.

“On that?” Joyce asked, surprised.

“Why not?”

“Y’all just crashed on it, Doll,” Joyce pointed out bleakly, clearly not eager to get on the bike with someone who had a less than stellar driving record. Amiel could feel her nerves jarring, the shivers in her fingers. She needed to get home fast, or she’d fall apart right here.

“Did you want to wait for the bus again?” Joyce’s eyes widened as she searched the inky streets around them.

“Well, I suppose that bike’s certainly safer than the streets at the moment,” Joyce agreed before flinging a leg over the seat. She paused as she settled, suit squeaking against the leather seat. “What happened to y’all tonight anyways, Amiel? With Stint, I mean.” Amiel relaxed slightly when Joyce clarified her question.

“Stint wanted me to stay behind to watch some employee video and lock up,” Amiel replied in a daze.

“Figures. Lazy jack’n’ape don’t know his head from a hole in the ground.” Amiel nodded distractedly.

“Let’s get home.”
I have an appointment with doom
, Amiel amended morbidly in the dark recesses of her mind.

“I live over on Alberone Street, Tesaroone Apartments.” Address tapped into her GPS, Amiel started the bike engine. Joyce whistled in appreciation.

“Y’all must have a lotta dough to afford this kinda technology!” Amiel wasn’t in the mood to explain her financial status, so she settled for vague.

“It was a gift.”

“Mmm, a suga daddy! Share him with me?” Amiel didn’t reply, fighting to ignore the wet sticky feeling of unseen blood slicking the clothes to her skin. Just like she tried to ignore the way her hands shook as she carefully pulled out onto the road. But as hard as she tried, Amiel couldn’t ignore the feeling of eyes on her back, from the dark shadowy figure that watched them down the street. She kept the knowledge that they weren’t alone to herself, as Joyce was already freaking out enough as it was. The tags hummed their quiet warmth of assurance, comforting Amiel in the knowledge that no more Rabids were close by. Which meant the shadowy figure had to be a regular guy, just like them. Right?  Regular or not, Amiel still wasn’t keen on meeting strangers in the dark early morning hours. Glancing over her shoulder, she let out a sigh of relief to see the shadow had disappeared in the distance that the bike had now put between them.

“What, what is it, what are y’all lookin’ at?” Joyce shouted out, nervously looking behind them, still seriously spooked over her encounter tonight. Her jerky movements unsettled the bike, causing them to wobble slightly. Amiel grit her teeth, fighting both her nerves and the bike for control.

“Nothing, I’m just a little jumpy, I guess.”

“Preachin’ to the choir! I sure as heck don’t wanna have to climb any more poles but if anythin’ else jumps out at me tonight, I’ll be up there faster than y’all can blink.” Joyce barked out a rather unladylike, sarcastic laugh, making Amiel’s lips widen with a smile. Following the GPS Amiel had Joyce at her apartments in no time. Her friend climbed off the bike, giving it a genial pat.

“Nice bike, if I do say so myself. Makes ya look like a tough biker chick.” Joyce giggled nervously, the fall of adrenaline finally starting to creep in on her. Amiel knew that feeling well.

“Go on and head to bed, Joyce. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Alright, thanks for…” Joyce nodded gratefully, before pausing and looking down at her gloved hands. “Eww! Amiel what have you gotten all over ya, Doll?” She wiped her gloves off on her plastic pants, leaving red streaks behind. “Oh my heavens, are ya hurt? I didn’t even think to ask! Lemme take a look.” Amiel’s stomach turned.

“Oh no, don’t worry about that. I kinda got freaked out by being in the dark alone at the restaurant and tried to run out of there. I tripped over a vat of spaghetti sauce Cookie had in the kitchen. I stayed long enough to clean up the mess, but didn’t want to stick around to clean myself up. It’s spooky in there at night.” Joyce nodded, holding her hands out to the side in disgust.

“Cookie ain’t gonna be too happy ‘bout that one, I wager.” She giggled quietly. “Alright then, ya gonna be alright to get home safe on your own, Amiel? Y’all can crash at my place if need be.” Amiel smiled, appreciating the kind gesture. However, she had a pretty big freak out moment coming in her near future, and she didn’t want to do that at her new friend’s house. Not to mention, once she got into full lighting, it would become pretty obvious that she hadn’t just tripped over a vat of spaghetti sauce.

“Thanks, Joyce. I appreciate that. I’m just going to head home. I’m spoiled, can’t sleep in a bed that isn’t my own.” That much was true.

“Well, I’m gonna jump in the shower, clothes on and everythin’, to wash this gunk off. Y’all best do the same, Doll. At least I got this plastic stuff on, you don’t got no protection! Spaghetti sauce stains like nothin’ else!” Her friend smiled and quickly headed into her apartments. Amiel sped away, eager to get home. Once home and her bike secured, Amiel rushed to her apartment. Darvey reached the top of the stairs landing just as she got her door unlocked. He called out to her, but she ignored him, quickly slamming the door behind her. That’s all she needed, for someone to see her covered in blood and be suspicious of her being infected. Speaking of which…Amiel took a deep breath, pushed away from the door and walked to the bathroom. Flipping the switch, she braced herself for the damage she’d see in the mirror.

Her hair was in disarray, shiny dark liquid covered her jacket, gloves, and pants. She was grateful she’d worn her black jeans tonight- any other pair would have been ruined. Stripping out of her jacket, gloves, boots, t-shirt, pants, and underwear, Amiel was relieved to find that most of the blood had stayed off her skin. Jumping in the shower, she scoured her skin until it was tender, checking every inch of her body for any scrapes or abrasions. Again it seemed she had escaped the clutches of infection. Luck could only hold out for so long, though. If this blackout thing kept happening, sooner or later her luck had to run out, didn’t it?

She tried to remember something, anything that had happened during her blackout. She knew from Tandy that her blackouts turned her into some crazed Rabids slayer. Yet as far as her own memories went, she could remember nothing. Was she dangerous to anyone besides Rabes? She had given Tandy a black eye, but he was certain that had been an accident. Aside from that, thus far she hadn’t been a danger to anyone else. But that could have just been luck. And without fail, the blackouts seemed to happen each time she encountered a Rabid. If she got close enough to sense them, the battle of wills was already lost, and she was drawn to the fight. The water ran frigid, matching her mood, and she climbed out the shower just as numb as she had been going in.

Drying off, she stared at the bloodied clothes on her floor. With a sigh, she set about scrubbing the leathers free of the gore, and then set her clothes to soak in the tub overnight. Towel wrapped snuggly around her torso, she grabbed Jaron’s journal. Desperately scouring the pages she’d already read for the hundredth time, she yearned for any links that could give her answers until her eyes blurred with exhaustion. As always, she was left with no answers. She slumped onto the bed, too exhausted both physically and emotionally to even dress. Her bottom lip began to wobble as she grasped her pillow, hugging it tightly. The tears followed, streaming down her skin in a reflection of her internal molten pain.

“Jaron. Oh, Jaron. What am I supposed to do?” she moaned miserably, body shuddering under the force of her emotions as they roiled at the surface of her restraint. She’d tried all this time, forced herself to hold the pain of her brother’s loss at a safe distance. When her thoughts strayed to him, she carefully kept the emotions tightly bound. She somehow knew that the moment she let the emotions free, she’d have to fully accept the empty part of her soul where he’d resided. That restraint she’d held onto for so long was dangerously close to slipping now.

“You gave me these tags and I don’t know what to do with them. I feel like I’m losing my mind!” The sobs came harder now, and she pressed her face to the pillow in an effort to abolish them from existence. “I could really use that two way ticket you promised me right about now. I need help. I need you,” she whispered in agony. Was this how the rest of her life would be spent? Randomly drifting in and out of blackness, killing without conscious control of it? Was this an even remotely sane lifestyle? Had Jaron felt the same way? Why had he made her promise?

She gulped back the rising panicky grief, knowing she was toeing the edge. She couldn’t allow the grief to swallow her, couldn’t let it cripple her. Allowing a few more shudders to rack her body, Amiel pulled the covers over her head. As usual, she left the lights on all night. Her thoughts wandered as exhaustion began to take over.

Maybe there was a way she could turn these blackouts into good, use them to help those around her. Perhaps this was her calling in life, to help as many as possible despite the risks to herself. Wasn’t that the way Jaron had lived
his
? She thought back on the stories his comrades in arms had told her, of the many times he had saved them heedless of his own safety. Could he expect less of her? But would these tags one day cause her to kill innocents, as well as the infected? She really had no idea what they were capable of.

Jaron had given her the tags, had made her promise to never take them off. Would he make her keep that promise if the tags were a such a bad thing? She had to believe that he’d given them to her for good reasons. She had to. Because in the end no matter the dangers, she knew she’d never take the tags off. No matter his reasons for gaining her promise, she’d
made
the promise, and it was a promise that Amiel would keep until death denied her the choice.