Damn cat. I knew there was a reason Naked didn’t want Killer around. We thought it was because Killer had taken to biting us once we lived under the dome, but it was because Naked knew something the rest of us didn’t: Killer was a carrier of killers.
When the Parasites started to invade last year, we noticed something right away; they could infect humans, but they couldn’t infect animals. At first we wondered if it was because it was more trouble than it was worth to learn how to coordinate more than two legs or work a pair of wings. Scientists could never come up with a plausible theory, but after a while we didn’t care. We were just grateful that animals seemed to be immune. We couldn’t imagine trying to survive in a world where every bird in the sky, every mouse in the field, every beloved pet could attack and infect you at any given moment. We knew the death toll would have been so much higher if the animals turned zombie on us. Is there anywhere habitable where you could hide from the animal kingdom?
But something must have happened to Killer between the refugee center and the dome, something that allowed him to live and carry the Parasites within him. The first few weeks after we were rescued were fine. Killer seemed his usual affectionate self with KC and anyone else who offered a warm lap and a treat. But then the constant low growl that came from Naked every time Killer was around grew into a full-on bark, and then the biting began. It’s like something that had stayed dormant in Killer’s brain was awakened with the warmth of summer and set him on the attack.
We didn’t know this at first, because nothing seemed to happen to us when we were bitten. Killer took to living outdoors, and he would then bite unsuspecting people who would stop to pet him. This was aggravating, but not serious until the day he bit someone who hadn’t received the rabies vaccine.
It was a little old lady in our complex known as Francine, and she lived on her own. It would have been nice if she was like our friend from the refugee center Dorothy: we could have used a resident granny for all the orphaned kids around here. But she was crabby and bitter and full of so many petty complaints you didn’t want to start a conversation with her, ever. The residents did their best to ignore her until the day they saw her staggering around outside with dead eyes. It was a big shock; no one had ever seen the Infected dead inside the compound. It really messed with our sense of security. The army guys were good about it though; they made sure all the kids were cleared out of the area before they shot her in the head.
The town exploded with fear. They blew up the Internet with paranoia and speculation.
“How could she be infected? It was a sunny day and no rain has ever penetrated the dome!”
“She couldn’t have been bitten by an RB, nothing can make it past the cameras and guards and walls!”
“We’re supposed to be safe here! Now I’m too scared to leave my apartment!”
I didn’t want to admit it, but I was scared too. They found a bite on Francine’s hand, and it was definitely from a cat. There was only one cat in the compound, so it had to be Killer. That stupid cat bit my family and friends, but we were all inoculated. We felt safe at first, thinking that the vaccine protected us from the Parasites, but then that little girl bit an unvaccinated boy and he turned RB in a millisecond. The army found out that Killer had bitten her as well. She told them that “The kitty-cat done bit me, and all I wanted to do was pet him!” So does this mean we now carry sleeping Parasites in our system? It must, because those who rejected the vaccine separated from us like oil from water, and the government soon followed up with Health and Safety policies that turned societal segregation into law. People were moved to create residences that were either filled with the inoculated or the uninoculated, and schools and transport were split down the same lines. Stores began to post notices “Vaccinated May Not Enter,” and more of those signs started popping up all over the place: over restaurants and restrooms, water fountains and gyms, libraries and lounges. I could tell from the Internet and news that it was the same the world over. Although we were the only town who had an infected cat that went around biting everyone, the inoculated across the country were presumed guilty of infection whether they had Parasites or not.
So instead of a manhunt we have a cat-hunt going on in our town, or operation “Kill the Killer” as it’s known. Problem is, Killer is small and nimble and easily hides within the shadows. This has kept a lot of the vaccine-free trapped in their homes, fearful of the feline that can come out of nowhere and bite the unwary.
The creepy thing is, Killer still stalks us. I know this because every now and then, Naked lifts her head and starts to growl low in her throat. On the rare occasions we can see him, Naked goes into a barking frenzy. The last time this happened, I saw Killer at our classroom window, looking in on us. Of course, he was gone before the soldiers arrived to take him out, but it left me wondering what he wanted with us. We were already infected. What more could we do for him?