Great Bitten: Outbreak by Fielding Warren

Author:Fielding, Warren [Fielding, Warren]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Iceni Publishing
Published: 2013-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Seven

“The scars of others should teach us caution” – St Jerome

It was nice to wake up without the sound of screaming echoing in my ears. I nearly shit myself though when I opened my eyes and saw a young face directly in front of mine. I bolted upright, from groggy to awake in less time than it normally takes me to fart when I first wake up. The child was startled too, and scooted back to its mother. She looked at me accusatorily, but then told off the kid for being nosy.

“Sorry. Wasn’t expecting that.”

“It’s okay. She should know better. I’m Heather. That’s Macy. She’s at that age, curious about everything. Can’t stay angry at her, she’s too cute.”

I had no opinion on her nosy child’s cuteness one way or the other. Macy had already gone off to prod someone else out of their lie-in, and this seemed to be tolerated by the adults, by and large. “Don’t worry about it. Possibly the best sleep I’ve ever had.” I looked around the cavernous room, trying to figure out whether it was day yet. I didn’t even know what the time was, and asked Heather.

“It’s about 10am. Your friends have already headed outside.”

I swore and went to get up when Heather spoke to me again.

“Bit of advice before you go and join them? There are toilets down the end of the hall, and here’s a bar of soap. There are towels in there. Have a wash. You look like shit. And you stink.”

I grinned genuinely for what felt like the first time in years. I took the bar of soap proffered to me. It smelt of fake lime scent, and made me sneeze. Straight away she was looking out for her daughter again, so I headed in the direction I thought the toilets would be. As I walked I raised my arm and sniffed under my armpit. It smelt like a skunk had crawled in to my shirt and died. Festivals weren’t this bad. The toilets were marked clearly enough and by habit, I walked in to the men’s. I walked out straight away again as the iron smell of blood overpowered my lungs. Something, or someone, had died in here quite violently. Whilst the mess and been cleared, it was evident the room itself hadn’t been cleaned. I tapped timidly on the door of the ladies and opened it when I didn’t get a response. I looked in the mirror and was disgusted by what I saw.

Dirt and blood was caked in to my stubble. My eyes were sitting in hollow sockets – I looked like I’d been punched. My skin was sallow, and my shirt… I took it off and threw it in the bin. Then I thought better of it, and rolled it up to take back with me. It had infected blood on it. I should really burn it. I ran cold water in to the sink and started working a furious lather from the cheap bar.

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