Free Vamp-Hire by Gerald Dean Rice

for about ten
years they tell me. I actually grew up—” he’d almost said in this
house, and thankfully caught himself— “in this city, but my memory
is really…”
    “Like Swiss cheese. Yeah, a lot of you kids
are like that. Did you know every adult who contracted what you
have died? A hundred percent mortality rate.”
    “No. I didn’t know that.”
    “Some seventeen year-olds died, even fewer
who were younger. Every single man and woman eighteen and older
died.”
    “How many people are infected?” Nick had been
wondering this for some time.
    “Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t know
who came up with that one percent business. So far as I know, it
could be ten or fifteen. There could even be people who are
infected who have never been diagnosed.”
    “So there could be adults who contracted it
who didn’t die.”
    Dolph thought a moment. “Yes,” he said. “I
suppose there could be. Not in any case I ever saw, though.”
    “How can that be? If they’re not taking
medication, then—” Nick realized he sounded like he was on both
sides of the argument.
    “We know the virus can lie dormant. For how
long? We still don’t know the means of transmission.”
    Nick mentally noted Dolph’s liberal use of
the word ‘we’. Then he did something that gave Nick an intense
feeling of déjà vu. He rolled his shoulders like he was loosening a
knot going across his back. It could have been any number of people
whom he’d seen do it, in that moment, though, he was certain it had
been the man standing in front of him.
    Phoebe and Randy headed down the stairs then
and the moment was broken. Dolph ladled out stew into two bowls and
had them waiting on placemats by the time they got to their chairs.
Nick felt a moment of panic, wondering if Randy might do something
to give him away. If Dolph watched the two of them as closely as
Nick thought he might, even one small glance might be enough to
blow everything.
    Nick had eaten dinner with the two of them
often enough and he had a pretty good idea of what Randy would and
wouldn’t eat. Although he’d enjoyed the stew, it seemed a bit much
for the palette of a toddler. When Dolph set the glasses of
lemonade down he also left a piece of chocolate next to Randy’s
bowl.
    Phoebe rolled her eyes at her grandfather as
her son unwrapped it. “Pop-Pop, I wish you wouldn’t do that. I’m
trying to teach him treats come after dinner. And not with every
meal.” The candy quickly disappeared and Randy dived into the
stew.
    “I know, but look at him,” Dolph said. She
silently watched her son eat for a moment then went to her own
bowl. Nick stared in awe. He’d never seen the boy eat so heartily.
Did the chocolate mean what he thought?
    He looked at Dolph, who was busying himself
with dishes in the sink. Nick didn’t understand. Phoebe was
definitely not infected and Randy was too young by five years.
Maybe—
    Nick’s stomach groaned.
    “You okay over there?” Dolph asked without
turning.
    “I—uhh, yeah.” Nick wasn’t honestly sure. It
groaned again and he felt movement inside him. He went to the
bathroom often enough, but never anything as urgent as this. He
stood up.
    “I need to use the bathroom.”
    Dolph cocked an eyebrow at him and Phoebe
looked too. Randy had eyes only for the bowl in front of him.
“Upstairs, second door down the hall.”
    Nick moved as quickly as his body would allow
and barely made it in time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d
done his business. His therapists had told him doing normal things
would inspire his body to do more normal things. Eliminating waste
was low on the list of things that came to mind when he thought of
normal things he should be doing and he used the time to actually
think about what had happened to him recently.
    Nancy was the first thing that swam into his
mind. Nick needed to get to the bottom of that. That probably had
been an abandoned house and they were using it. Nick had been
warned