Once Bitten: Twice Mad

Chapter Two: They're dead, they eat folks and ya shoot 'em in the head

                “Are ya gonna live?” she asked as she stoked at the fire with a stick. The man shot bolt upright, his muscled torso gleaming in the firelight. He pulled his gun from the holster on his hip with an ease and grace that told Frankie he had a lot of experience at using the thing.  

                Frankie didn’t bat an eye when she found herself staring down the barrel of the .45 revolver. It wasn’t the first time she’d been in that position and with the way the world was quickly going to hell it wouldn’t be the last.     

                She barely fought the urge to let out the long ‘gnaaaa’ sound that the ‘rabid’ seemed so fond of making just to see if the man would really shoot her. Instead she held out her canteen of water and grinned. “Seein’ as how I saved your life back there, it’d be real shitty of you to pull that trigger.”

                The man blinked several times and then lowered his gun, sliding it back in the holster and taking the canteen from her hand. Frankie took a moment to study him as he drank deeply. He had a body that made it clear he’d lived a hard life. Bullet scars and knife scars marred his tanned torso. His face was rugged and sculpted. High cheekbones, firm lips, a straight nose and dark eyes. He had a dusting of stubble across his face and he looked sad. Tired and sad. Frankie wasn’t a real deep thinker but she would even say the man looked bone deep sad. Haunted even.

                It was a look she’d seen often on the faces of living folks she’d come across in the last three weeks. The sickness had spread far and wide and it had spread quickly. It had taken a week for the elixir to fully change all who had taken it and in that time those people had traveled, carrying their rabid sickness with them. There was no longer a single safe place. And that kind of thing led to a lot of haunted faces.

                “Can I ask you a question?” Frankie asked the man and he stared off into the night and nodded.

                “What the hell were you doin’ fightin’ off a bunch of the ‘rabid’ with a shovel?” The man raised a brow and looked at her. It was clear from his expression that he didn’t know what she was talking about.

                “You did know about the ‘rabid’ didn’t you?” The man shook his head. “Don’t you know how to talk?” Frankie asked with annoyance and the man nodded but didn’t speak.

                “Well since you seem to be a bit out of touch with the ‘rabid’ that have been takin’ over, I guess I’ll fill you in. Some folks, lots of folks, took some medicine that was promised to keep them from ever getting’ sick again. This medicine made them ‘rabid’ and caused them to want to do nothin’ other than eat those that weren’t ‘rabid’.”

                The man nodded, his jaw tightening. “Right…” Frankie continued, wondering why this man wouldn’t speak. “When the ‘rabid’ bite someone it causes the sickness to spread and it’s quickly spreading across the country.”

                The man nodded again, took another drink and handed her back her canteen. Frankie snorted.

                “Ain’t ya gonna thank me for savin’ you?”

                The man shook his head. Frankie saw that the sun was beginning to brighten up the sky, though it was still hidden behind the mountains around them.

                “Well I tend to not stick around one place too long so I gotta go.” Frankie said as she pushed herself to her feet. “You’ll find that sack there that I’m givin’ ya is full of some jerked beef and hardtack and an extra canteen of water. I gave you a couple of bullets too. You’ll want to stay on the move and get out of here soon.”

                The man gave her a questioning glance and Frankie rubbed the back of her neck. “Look, I don’t know a damned thing about you and I feel kinda bad leavin’ ya like this but I’ve learned that it’s best to be alone with the things that are goin’ on. … I hope you can understand me since you seem a bit off in the head… There are a few things you need to know and if you know these things then you should make it okay. So are you listenin’?”

                The man nodded but made no other response. Frankie sighed as she loaded up her few belongings into the saddlebags of her waiting horse.

                “Alright then. Once a person is ‘rabid’ they ain’t the person they were before and they never will be again. That’s somethin’ you gotta learn and ya gotta learn it quick. Here’s three things to go by, little gems of Frankie wisdom just from me to you. The rabid, they’re dead, they eat people and ya shoot ‘em in the head.”   

                The ghost of a smile pulled at the strange, quiet man’s lips and Frankie hopped on her horse and tipped her hat to him before galloping off into the thick forests on the tight mountain path. She had quite a few miles to cover before she reached her uncles cabin and she was hoping against hope that she’d fine him just as alive and un-cannibalistic as she’d left him a couple of months before.

***

                Colt didn’t bother getting up as he listened to the thundering hooves of the woman’s horse fade into the distance.

                His life was gone. His wife… His daughter…  Colt had worked so hard to become a man who deserved them over the last two years and now they were gone. They were gone simply because some yuppy city folks had wanted a quick fix for the common cold. He wished people with money, privilege and wealth had some brains to go with it.  All he saw when he closed his eyes were those ‘rabid’ bastards sinking their teeth into Sarah and Loralie.

                He wanted to go back and kill any of those monsters he had missed but he wouldn’t because he was too scared by what he might find… He didn’t want to see Loralie like that again. The strange woman, Frankie, had told him that once a person caught the sickness they didn’t get better and she had seemed to know what she was talking about so he trusted her word.

                Frankie had seemed to think he was soft in the head because he didn’t speak but Colt had no urge to speak again. He had failed his family, he hadn’t kept them safe, and a vow of silence was the least he could offer them. Until the day something made him feel alive again and he felt comfortable moving on he would never utter another word.

                It might seem a strange thing to some but the man who had raised Colt had been half injun and had instilled in Colt many of the beliefs of his people. When you lost something you had to grieve, had to mourn. A vow of silence seemed a fitting way to do that.

                Life as he’d known it was over. Colt pushed himself to his feet slowly and rubbed the lump on the back of his head. He wished that woman hadn’t saved him. He’d rather be dead than left to live without his wife and daughter.

                But alive he was and Colt hadn’t ever been a man who sat down and gave up without a fight. He’d teach these fucking ‘rabid’ a lesson. He had no horse but he had two good feet and there was a town not too far away. Colt was smart enough to know what he would probably find there but along with the ‘rabid’ monsters there should be supplies and hopefully living horses as well.

                Frankie had seemed surprised to learn he hadn’t known about this sickness but Colt hadn’t been off his farm in months. With town nearly a full days ride away, Colt only went two or three times a year whenever necessity required. The Wallis’s had been his closest neighbors and even their claim had been three hours away. How would Colt have known what was happening in the rest of the country? All he’d cared about was the little world he’d built with Sarah.

Colt slung the sack Frankie had given him over his shoulder and started into the woods. His shoulder’s thrown back and his spirit renewed with his new purpose.  He was alive for one reason now and one reason only. Vengeance.