Rabbit Blood

Chapter 53 - Under The Weather

Leslie and Science: it was an ill-fated love affair. Yes, they flirted for a while, she developed a sort of fascination and even respect... yet they were doomed to failure. If only she was smarter. They could have been so much.

Now here she was, crouched in a sixth-floor hotel closet and literally making out with a petri dish - for the greatest chance of contracting the mysterious disease growing on it. It was a relational development she never would've foreseen. Got to first base with a viral culture, she thought. Way to go, Les.

Two things had to happen by morning. Leslie had to be sick, and whatever vengeance Rosie had planned for Alastor, she should have dealt it out. It wasn't much of a plan, but...

Leslie didn't even know how to finish that thought.

o - o - o - o - o

Hours later, sunlight pierced the gap between the closet doors, and she squinted awake. There was a moment of self-examination, both outside and in. Leslie knew little about how the virus would present, but right now, she seemed to be... healthy.

No, no, no.

Yes.

She passed an hour, half-numb, half-horrified, curled in her nest of coats on the closet floor. Well, Leslie reasoned at last, the key part of her plan was self-isolation anyway. She could fake being ill, at least until Baxter hooked her up with something that worked.

She checked her phone. Low battery.

As Leslie trudged downstairs to recharge, Vaggie appeared on the fourth-floor hallway. She waved Leslie down, arms full of papers, and jogged to meet her. Leslie panicked and tried to look ill, wondering if she could affect a fluey-sounding voice.

"Les, hi!" said Vaggie, a little breathless. "I want to check-in, just real quick! Sorry for-- uh, rushing! Char's organizing something next week, like a dance, so I'm run off my feet... It's just a-- casual thing by the way! No expertise needed! ...Although if you feel like volunteering, you're very welcome. But enough of that. How are you? How are classes going?"

Leslie nodded. "Fine," she croaked.

"Good. No trouble-makers? Spirits up or down from last week?"

"Uh... about the same."

"Super," Vaggie said, giving her a friendly slap on the shoulder. "I'll call later, OK?" She was about to leave, then gave Leslie a double-take. "Sure you're fine? Sounds like you have a cold."

Leslie sagged. "Yeah... wish I was dead, to be honest."

"Shit. I'm sorry. You're still doing your class in an hour?"

"Uh."

"No, I just mean... lemme check my email," Vaggie said. Juggling the papers to find her phone, a cardboard folder dropped to the floor. "Carajo! Hang on-"

"I didn't cancel," Leslie said. "I would've done, but it came on so soon."

"Oh... I see..."

Do the class, said a voice in Leslie's head: a tiny, yet insistent grizzled voice. Dance while you still can.

What did that mean? Leslie wanted to snap back, ask where such a nasty idea came from. Then she jumped, sensing movement to her left. Nothing. Her imagination.

"Jesus, Les, maybe sit this one out."

"No no no, I'll do it, I have to. It's er, just a thing! Sorry." She looked unhappily into Vaggie's concerned eye. "I'm fine. Just let me do it, and it'll be fine, it'll all be fine, good, goody-good, fine good." And she walked towards the staircase.