THE WOLF INFESTATION

Chapter Four

The next day, I let out a strangled breath as I stepped into Bob's Diner.

Whatever the hell that was — contagious disease — or whatever was turning people into monsters, Dr Howard said so himself. And, just maybe, for some reason, the bikers were involved. I couldn't even look at him — Dr Howard — without shaking in my shoes yesterday. Then Dr Andrews had started noticing my weird behavior.

“You okay?” He had asked.

“Y-yeah I'm fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You sure?” He said, handing me my pay slip.

“Yes.” I had said breathlessly. Then that was the end of the conversation. Also the end of the work week.

The bikers were not in the diner that morning and I let another breath of air escape through my teeth. They were probably at Clint's Auto contaminating him and his son. Maybe they brought some virus from out of town? Quinn was concerned yesterday and I usually never had much reason to lie to her, but I did. I wanted someone to talk to, but at the same time, I didn't want to potentially put the only family I had in danger. Who knows what would happen if I told them. Dr Garner seemed pretty serious.

The situation I had been put in, made me aware of the people and things around me on a subconscious level. The way the patrons of the diner seemed to cough. I held my breath, as if I might inhale the germs and toxins. My fingers shook with the effort. A kid had thrown up all over the floor and a waitress was grumbling as she cleaned. From my seat, I could see two teenagers lip locking over a plate of pancakes.

“Hey.”

I startled at Quinn's touch, releasing a gasp.

“Hey.” My voice came out in a higher pitch.

“You've been acting weird.” She looked in through the kitchen window to see if Bob was paying attention. He wasn't. “You okay?” She lowered her voice to a whisper.

“Uh, yeah. Just a bit shaken up, y'know... after what happened with Paul Mendez.” I whispered too, just in case Dr Howard was somehow listening in.

Her eyes seemed to glaze over. “I'm still thinking about how strange it all is. The priest will put it all to rest hopefully.” She turned to rinse the cloth at the sink and began wiping again. “You going to Paul's funeral? He was a friend of the family. Then there's Mr. Gonzalez's funeral too.”

“I- I'm not sure... No. I'll go lay some flowers down later when I'm done with those errands.”

“Okay. Have fun. I think Paul might have liked morning glory, his front yard is filled with it.” She smiled sadly. “Where's Willow?”

“Funeral.” I told her, slipping into my jacket.  “Bye.”

The grocery wasn't too far from Clinton's Auto and as I passed by it, seeing all those motorbikes outside, I couldn't help but think that Clinton Eastwood would be making an appearance at the clinic a few days from now. Or maybe he wouldn't need to. Not if Reeve — the new paramedic — got to him fast enough to give him the anecdote.

Anecdote to stop him from turning into a monster as Dr Howard said.

I didn't put the thought about that kind of stuff out of my head. How hard is it, to believe that these bikers may or may not be infecting people with a disease that might turn them into something ungodly — something out of a horror film.

—Thinking too much.

Maybe just a real bad infection.