Patient Zero

I'd always figured mushrooms would crunch when you stood on them.Couldn't tell you why. Maybe it was something my brother had told me once- "Mushrooms are crunchy, Dean, you'll see - you've gotta bite down hard if youever eat one." 

Cue me breaking my teeth, right? 

It didn't matter, anyway. It just surprised me - that soft squelch as I crushedone of the little things, instead of that crunch I'd always expected. 

Scraping the fungal mess that'd stuck to underside of my boot against a tree,I pulled out my phone and flipped it to selfie mode, checking my hair throughthe rear camera. 

It had to be perfect. No way was I going to catch something and look a mess- it had to look great.A little ruggedness was fine - windswept, maybe? But it had to look good. 

Truthfully, if my friends hadn't chickened out of the whole thing, I'd havestaged it. One of them was an actual hunter - honest to god, went out everyweekend just to shoot shit in the woods. 

I asked him if he'd shoot something big and let me take a picture pretendingit was mine, but he said something about integrity and ethics and ran off.Asshole. 

So, instead, I was lugging this heavy rifle through the woods withrealistically no idea what I was doing. 

The guy at the gun shop - this old place in town called "Gun Rodeo" - hadrecommended it. Expensive, but it'd look damn good on camera. 

Sleek wood, beautifully engraved steel - what wasn't to like? 

Tall trees loomed over me on either side, blocking much of the sunlight fromgetting down to the forest floor. It almost smelt like something you'd put in anair freshener - that sharp pine smell that always seemed to invade your nostrilsbefore you'd had a chance to open up the window.

 Suddenly, I stopped. I didn't know how I'd seen it, but somehow - throughthe brush - I saw a deer.A grin started to form on my face as I got to my knees to get a better look,but it slowly started to fade - something seemed off about it. 

The first thing I noticed was its fur. The movies always showed this sleek,elegant and unblemished fur - but, this one had pockmarks and scars coveringthe surface. 

Never had I heard of a deer so unfazed by it's surroundings, either. Surelyit'd heard me coming? I hadn't exactly been quiet, but it was just standingthere. 

It's head was crooked, looking down at the stream of water it was standingin like it'd never seen water before. 

As far as I was concerned, that just made it an easy target.Raising the rifle, I rested it on a low branch and set the sights against it'sunmoving head. 

Slowly, I did as the sales clerk in the shop had told me - once I had it in thecrosshairs, I exhaled and squeezed the trigger. 

The rifle bucked hard into my shoulder and the scope slammed into my eyeas I lost my grip on the gun, causing me to yell and stumble backwards. 

Swearing, I scrambled to catch the gun before it dropped into the dirt. 

The deer was almost surely gone. No way was it going to stick around afterthat fiasco - yet, to my surprise, when I got back up I saw I'd actually managedto hit the thing. 

Lying face down in the stream, the water going red around it, I knew thenthat it was dead. 

With a fist pump, I pushed aside the brush and tumbled into the clearing,marvelling at the catch. 

Now that was a deer. Who said I couldn't be a hunter? 

Holding it by it's front legs, I dragged it out of the stream and set it down inthe grass. 

Taking my phone out again, I did one last check of my hair and clothes - justright - and snapped a photo beside the deer. 

I'd initially thought I'd leave the thing where it was - let the forest take it.I'd gotten the picture after all, right? 

But then, the thought of cooking up a piece of it took hold. Now that wouldbe quite the story to tell. 

So, I took out a large hunting knife - again, one that I bought at "Gun Rodeo"-and set it against the side of the deer. 

When I'd thought this whole thing up, I'd watched a youtube video on howto cut one up, so I vaguely knew what I was doing. There was no way I'd cut thewhole thing up - just a piece to cook for dinner. 

Without a second thought, I plunged the knife into it's side.A cloud of blood and debris sprayed outward, filling my nose with an awfulmix of iron and earthy musk. 

It seemed to linger in the air, each breath pulling the cloud deep into mylungs. 

Starting to cough, I doubled over, falling forward into the stream as I triedto clear my airways. 

Trying to regain my footing, my foot slipped against a wet rock and I wenttumbling forward again - though, this time, with no time to protect my head. 

Before I knew it, my head slammed into the ground and everything wentblack. 

I had no idea how much time had passed by the time I came to. It'd gottendark, I could see that.My clothes were soiled. My hair was a mess of mud and leaves, and my headfelt like it was about to explode. 

Everything felt sluggish - when I tried to move my arms, it took a fewmoments before they'd co-operate. My eyes felt slow, jerky - everything I triedto look at was out of focus and - hell, painful? 

Slowly, I managed to sit up. The deer had disappeared - drag marks cravedinto the dirt, heading off into the tree line. I didn't even care. Some predatorprobably picked it up - would probably do the same to me if I didn't move. 

I took out my phone again. 

Emergency services came to mind, but without signal I was out of luck.Instead, I thought of something different. 

Switching it to the rear camera, I tried to see the damage. 

It took me a few moments to really see anything in the dark. My eyes triedto adjust, though with each attempt I could feel it losing and gaining focus -struggling to see. 

But then I saw it. 

Pulling the camera close, I tried to really see - to make sure I was actuallyseeing what I was seeing. Sure enough, there it was. Small, but there. 

The stalk of a mushroom, slowly pushing its way out of the corner of myeye. 

I screamed.