Humans Bite Back
CHAPTER 16: The Zombie Virus

“The Zombie Virus is bad for our health but good for sales,” Edna commented as she hefted a rather impressive box onto the display floor. “The ball gags have been selling like hotcakes.”

The LVWG community had dubbed the virus “The Zombie Virus” since the humans seemed to disconnect from their humanity when their sudden cravings for magical blood were aroused. It seemed fitting because their blood lust had become increasingly insatiable. My Aunt Finn had claimed that one of them had almost caught up with her car the other day, and the witching community was considering making flying broomsticks a new normal.

“I’ve heard that it has gotten worse,” I informed her, “My Aunt Finn said that the new strain seems to be super contagious and more aggressive.”

“She may be right,” Edna told me as she began to unpack what appeared to be an assortment of odd wigs. “What are those?” I inquired as she shook out the strange hairpieces.

“Merkins,” Edna told me, “I heard they were coming back into fashion; they were all the rage back in my day.”

I cocked my head in confusion; I knew plenty of girls who wore hair extensions, but none that resembled the ones that Edna was putting on display. They were in small curly patches, almost like a beard. “Are they meant for the face?” I asked. “Um, sometimes they go on faces,” Edna replied, then turned to me, “Why don’t you stop asking so many questions and help me put away some of this stock?”

“I would,” I told her, “But Banana Pepper is wrapped around my ankles; she seems to like the taste of my socks.”

“Your feet must be sweaty, and she’s mistaken them for salt blocks,” Edna sighed as she dropped the merchandise she was sorting through and joined me behind the cashier counter. She reached underneath the shelves and appeared with a shaker of salt, which she began sprinkling on the floor to lure Banana Pepper. “Yesterday, after I had poured salt in Ricky’s wounds, she had swallowed him whole. I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but she’s addicted to the stuff.”

“Is Ricky alright?” I asked as I gazed down at Banana Pepper, who had begun to unwind herself from my legs to chase the trail of salt that Edna had put out for her.

“He’s fine,” Edna said with a dismissive wave of her free hand, “He enjoyed it so much that he even left a tip,” she paused as the bell above the door alerted us to an incoming customer.

“Welcome to Edna’s…” I paused in my greeting when I realized that Aunt Finn stood there with a crate in her hands, followed by Petra soon after.

“Welcome ladies,” Edna greeted them, then turned to me and said, “Now that you’re free, why don’t you help your Aunt with that crate?”

I obediently hopped the counter and relieved my Aunt Finn of the bottles of lust potion. “Sorry I’m late this week,” Aunt Finn apologized to Edna, “Things have been a bit hectic in the greenhouse.”

“Not a problem, dear,” Edna cried as she walked over to the cash register and began extracting Finn’s payment, “How is the zombie cure coming along?”

“It’s an enigma,” Finn complained, shaking her head, “We don’t know how the humans are contracting it; it is neither air-borne nor passed by bodily fluids.”

“It could be psychosomatic,” Petra offered, “Mass hysteria is what had prompted the witch trials, though they are now claiming that moldy rye was the cause.”

“I’m sure moldy rye was what started it, but a healthy prompting from brutes is what caused the mass hysteria,” Finn told her.

“There was something odd that occurred when I lived in Strasbourg, now known as France, the citizens were plagued with dancing,” Edna recalled, “They started dancing one day and couldn’t stop even when their eyes rolled back in their sockets, and their feet bled.”

“What put a stop to it?” Finn asked, intrigued.

“Well, death cured most of them,” Edna concluded, “Those who survived were so traumatized that they could do nothing but hum a tune for decades afterward. That was when it was determined that some music shouldn’t be played at certain frequencies.”

“Vibrations are pretty powerful,” Finn said thoughtfully. “Most of my customers would agree,” Edna told her.

“Frequencies can change the flow of fluids,” Petra put forward, “Do you think Dr. Briggs can get one of his patients to agree to a CAT scan?”

“I don’t suppose it would be a bother; most of Dr. Briggs's clients adore him when they are not trying to eat him. I think he would agree that it is worth a shot….” Finn paused, “That reminds me, Edna, can you loan Petra your vehicle? Mine is filled with dangerous concoctions, and Dr. Briggs had to take his into the shop because a human had propelled themselves into his windshield.”

“Sorry, no can do,” Edna told them, “We had to fire our delivery drivers on the grounds of being humans, so now Chad has to go down to the docks and pick up our orders himself. His motorbike is in the garage, but I warn you, it has a habit of choking.”

Finn exchanged a look with Petra; Petra shook her head, obviously not too keen on riding Chad’s bike. Finn turned to Edna, “Then can we borrow Bishop? He can escort Petra around town and see her home safely afterward.”

Edna looked around the store, which had been empty all afternoon. “It’s been a slow day, so I don’t see the harm in allowing him to go a little early,” she then turned to me and said, “Be early tomorrow and wear clean socks.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, giving her a salute. “Thank you, Bishop,” Finn cried, then she hugged Petra, “Keep him safe,” she joked in a loud whisper before giving Edna a little wave farewell and disappearing to the door.

“Where may I escort you on this fine afternoon?” I asked Petra, offering her the crook of my elbow. She linked her arm with mine, “To the bank, Finn thinks it may be a fine idea to keep cash at the house just in case the zombie virus mutates again.”

“Sounds wise to me,” I told her as I slipped out of her grasp so I could slip out of the shop to ensure that the sidewalk was clear before holding the door open so she could exit. “Such a gentleman,” she complimented me as she offered up her elbow to be reclaimed.

“We bank at The Where Woods of Silverdale,” she told me. “Ah, the werewolf bank, if we’re not safe there, then we’re not safe anywhere,” I told her.

“That’s what I told Finn, but something about this Zombie virus has her worried, though she won’t say what when I press her,” Petra complained.

“I’m sure she just doesn’t want to worry you,” I offered, “She and Dr. Briggs are developing theories right now, and I suppose they have to imagine the worst-case scenario,” I paused as we approached the bank. “Your financial institution, my lady,” I said, rushing to hold the door open for her. As Petra passed, I bowed my head slightly. “You are goofy,” she declared as she crossed the threshold into the bank.

The bank teller, a female wolf, greeted us. She seemed to recognize Petra upon arrival. “He should only be a few minutes; he’s just finishing up a phone call,” she told Petra, gesturing to a pair of seats, “I’ll let him know you’re here. You are welcome to wait in the lobby in the meantime,” the teller said, gesturing to a couple of seats. “We will stand, thank you,” Petra said politely before the teller disappeared into one of the offices.

“Why are we waiting around?” I asked, feeling impatient, “Why can’t we just withdraw the money and leave?”

“I suppose Finn and I are not the only ones who have decided to withdraw a bulk of our savings,” Finn told me, “Though I’m sure it will all turn out all right in the end, the bankers have every right to worry,” she patted me on the shoulder, “This is a courtesy, once I reassure our financial consultant, we should be able to withdraw our money and be on our way.”

The teller returned, “He’s on his way,” she assured us before skittering away into the massive vault behind the deposit counter. A few moments later, an unimpressive but recognizable wolf emerged from the office. It was my old buddy Ed; his eyes lit up when he saw Petra, but when he saw me, his eyes glazed over, and his nostrils flared.

I had raised my hand, and prepared for a friendly greeting, though I was pleased to see Ed again, the feeling wasn’t mutual. His head snapped back, his snout protruded, and his incisors extended into sharp fangs.

Startled, Petra recoiled slightly as she gazed upon Ed in confusion, “Ed, is everything alright?” she ventured.

“Petra,” I said carefully as I seized her hand, “We must flee now.”

“What? Why Bishop? What’s going on?” Petra stumbled as I began to pull her in the direction of the double glass doors in which we entered.

“I think your banker wants to murder me,” I cried, just as Ed let out a deep growl. I pushed past the glass, tugging Petra along behind me.

“You,” Ed howled as he began to barrel out the glass doors behind us.

“He’s shifting in broad daylight,” Petra exclaimed as we broke into a sprint, “What did you do to him, Bishop?”

I turned the corner onto Brewery Street, hoping to lose him in the industrial district. “I think he’s angry because of Petunia,” I explained.

“Who is Petunia?” Petra asked, “We have to move faster; I think he’s gaining on us,”

I shot a quick glance over my shoulder; Ed was still in the process of shifting, his hind paws burst through his leather shoes, and now we were being followed by the ominous clicking of his claws.

“Petunia is not a who; she’s a what,” I breathed as we disappeared into another alleyway, “And don’t ask me what, because I never quite figured that out.”

“Dang it,” I cried out as we turned a corner into an area I recognized. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Petra pressed me.

“That way leads to the river, and this building has an electric fence protecting it,” before Petra could test it, I warned her, “It’s quite powerful, I made the mistake of touching it, and I was knocked out for some time.”

She eyed the stone wall, “I have an idea,” she announced. I listened, the clicking had paused temporarily, but even from a distance, I could hear Ed’s nostrils expand as he sniffed the air for our scent.

Petra closed her eyes and pressed her hands against the stones; before my very eyes, they seemed to turn to putty and part. Once Petra created a hole large enough for us to fit, she seized me by the arm and shoved me through it. “Get inside,” she commanded.

There was a slight drop from the alley to the old boiler room where The Grandmasters and I had held our first meeting. As my body made an impact on the concrete floor, my bones reverberated in shock before screaming out in agony.

Petra was sent tumbling after me before I could recover, my body breaking her fall. We both lay there in a daze for a moment, then Petra asked, “Are you alright?”

I did a mental scan of my body, my hip and shoulder were sore, but I doubted they were broken. I lifted a hand to my hairline and touched upon a knot that had begun to form; though I was sure it would leave an ugly bruise, the skin didn’t seem to be broken. “I think I’m alright,” I concluded.

Petra stood up and brushed the stone dust from her skirt; then, she offered me a hand. I seized it and allowed her to draw me to my feet. I looked at the stone wall behind us. “How did you do that?” I asked her as I placed a hand on the stone that was now cold and very solid.

“I’m an empath,” Petra explained, “I can tap into another’s feelings and desires,” she rested her hand upon the stone. “Everything in nature desires to transform, change, and move, but these stones have been sealed in place, preventing them from reaching a new destination. I just tapped into that longing.”

“Rocks have feelings?” I asked her as I was suddenly plagued with guilt as I recalled all the times I had chucked a rock in anger or had kicked the side of a building.

“Not feelings, they just have needs,” Petra corrected me as she paused to stroke the recovered stone, “Just like everything else on earth, they are meant to evolve; when they are sealed together like this, it prevents them from achieving their natural results.”

Once Petra finished comforting the stones, she brushed the loose dust from her hands. “What is this place?” she asked and then wrinkled her nose, “And why does it smell so horrid?”

Petra and I had landed behind some drink dispensers placed in the room for storage; along the adjacent wall were crates of colorful cans. “Energy drinks,” I told her, “I heard the old factory had been bought to produce energy drinks.”

“Great, the entire industrial district will be crawling with humans,” she threw her hands up, “I don’t have anything against humans, or at least I didn’t,” she fumbled, then gave up, “Humans are just messy and hard to manage.”

“There’s a door,” I said hopefully, “Perhaps we can make a break for it without being discovered,” As soon as the words left my lips, the jingle of keys chimed, and the doorknob began to turn.

“We have to hide,” Petra hissed, tugging me by my sleeve. “Humans have an organization called The Police who have this scary thing called a paper trail.”

“That sounds awful,” I replied in a harsh whisper, “Could you imagine how painful those tiny paper cuts must be?” Humans had a history of being barbaric, which seemed to only worsen over time.

Together we huddled behind one of the drink dispensers as we listened to a pair of footfalls crossing the room; from their lofty pace, it was safe to assume that the new occupants were unaware that a couple of intruders were in the room.

The odor that I had dismissed earlier as energy drinks increased as the presence entered the room. It was a foul smell that managed to travel down your nasal cavity and coat the back of your throat.

The scent had all the hallmarks of being amphibious, achieved by humid days in murky waters and long periods spent in mud banks. The smelly owner must have been aware that it carried a scent that assaulted the senses because it attempted to mask it by adding a layer of expensive cologne.

Petra looked at me terrified and mouthed the word, “Leviathan.”

I eased myself lower, so I could track the movements of those who now occupied the room. My heart nearly stopped when I realized that two pairs of feet had come to a halt in front of the machine where Petra and I cowered. I braced a hand on the back of the device, prepared to send it careening if the need presented, but relaxed after a long period passed, and no cries of alarm sounded.

I viewed the shoes; one pair was expensive loafers, shined to a mirror gloss, which I could only assume belonged to the Leviathan that was stinking up the place.

The footwear that accompanied the designer shoes was stark in contrast, beaten leather with a high and well-worn heel; if I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed that the second pair of feet belonged to a witch.

“The trials went swimmingly,” complimented a familiar voice.

I clapped a hand over Petra’s mouth before she could vocalize her shock. She looked at me with wide and startled eyes; I lifted a finger to my lips to motion that she must remain silent. Though we should have felt safe in the presence of our Supreme Mother, I had a foreboding feeling.

“It went as expected,” an eloquent voice spoke with an air of arrogance, “We anticipated this moment; after all, we were just waiting for the rest of the world to get up to speed,”

“Of course, you did,” The Supreme Mother’s usually haughty tone had been replaced with a submissive one.

“Phase one will be executed at the county fair tomorrow night,” an eloquent voice flickered, “We have done our part; you must ensure that delivery from the brewery is made on time,”

“It will be,” The Supreme Mother replied in a clipped voice, “But what about the humans who decide to skip the fair?”

“Once phase one is in full effect, we should have no problem commandeering the water plant,” the Leviathan responded smoothly, “The ghouls won’t put up much of a fight once they realize that Silverdale is a lost cause.”

Together they chuckled, and then their feet disappeared. I listened as they departed from the room, locking the door behind them. I waited a few moments after their departure before I lowered my hand from Petra’s mouth.

Slowly we rose together and peeped around the machinery to ensure that we were in the clear. Not daring to utter a word, I pointed to the crates and indicated that we should climb them to make our escape.

Petra bobbed her head, indicating that she understood, and then she climbed up on the crates and worked her magic on the stones above them. Once the stones had parted enough for us to slither through, Petra slid through feet first with me not trailing far behind her. Once we were both in the safety of the alley, she touched the stones and sealed them back into place.

We didn’t speak until we reached the corner of Brewery and Breeze Street. “What was the Mother Supreme doing with a Leviathan?” Petra burst out. “What could she be up to?”

Before I could voice my own suspicions, Petra seized me by the arm, “Of course,” she exclaimed, “She must have discovered a cure and asked the Leviathan to help her with distribution,” she gazed at me hopefully, “We must tell Finn.”

I seized her arm before she could dart off into the direction of Breeze Street. “Wait, we have to make sure that the Leviathan is genuine,” I cautioned. “There is something you need to know about those energy drinks, something I didn’t think was important until now.”

I quickly recalled what I had witnessed happen to the rats in the alley when Bryce had spilled the energy drink out onto the asphalt. “They were vicious,” I concluded, “I think those drinks are dangerous.”

“We can’t approach the Supreme Mother with unfounded accusations; we will need proof that those energy drinks are no good,” Petra reasoned.

I glanced back at the smokestacks billowing from the roofs of the industrial district. I knew we couldn’t return, but we needed to get our hands on one of those energy drinks. I was about to suggest retracing our steps when another thought occurred to me, “Come on,” I said, seizing Petra by the crook of her arm.

“Where are you going?” She said as my eyes darted back and forth along Breeze Street; that was when I spotted it, the colorful kiosk giving away free samples. I began to steer Petra in the direction of the cart.

“That cart is passing out free cans of those energy drinks; it’s how we acquired them the other day. We can take them to Dr. Briggs and Aunt Finn for testing,” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“And if it turns out that the Leviathan is deceiving the Supreme Mother, then we will have proof,” Petra sounded delighted as she came to this conclusion on her own. “Precisely,” I told her as we approached the vendor.

The attendant gave us a harried look as Petra raised two fingers and stated, “Two please,” The vendor did as requested, but as he passed the drinks, he said, “It’s not my place to say miss, but these things are not good for your boy.”

Petra’s smile faltered, and her expression froze as she muttered, “Come, again?” I nudged her, “We have to keep moving along.”

Before we were out of earshot from the vendor, Petra exploded, “I can’t believe he assumed I was your mother,” she then turned to me in bewilderment, “Me, of all people,” she whined, “This pandemic must be aging me.”

“You don’t look a day over thirty,” I assured her, I thought my words would soothe her, but her hands flew to her face, “It’s that bad?” she cried.

“I’m sure Aunt Finn can mix you up some type of topical crème,” I told her, determined to press on.

We reached the veterinary clinic; the front was reserved for humans with sick pets, but the back service the rest of the magical community; the majority of his client base was werewolves, but he treated the occasional witch and vampire when they found themselves in a pinch.

A young werewolf, not long out of his pup years, emerged from the clinic as we approached. Following directly behind him was the dashing doctor himself.

“Keep taking those antibiotics, and soon enough, those nasty tapeworms will be gone,” Dr. Briggs advised the young wolf, “And stop licking everything that appeals to you.”

The doctor was about to disappear inside when he noticed Petra and me. “Hello, Petra dear,” Dr. Briggs greeted her, then he sized me up before adding, “This must be the young Bishop that Finn can’t stop talking about.”

“Hello, Dr. Briggs,” I said, stepping forward and offering my open palm to shake. Once the introductions were over, Dr. Briggs turned to Petra, “Finn and I still have a lot of work to do, I’m afraid she will be a while.”

“That is why we are here,” I intervened, “We need you to test something for us.”

I quickly launched into the retelling of what I had witnessed in the alley with the rats, and together Petra and I recalled our recent experience. However, the blood drained from Petra’s face when I mentioned the Supreme Mother. I understood the gravity of the situation; it was common knowledge that most witches were discouraged from acting without the Supreme Mother’s approval. Still, I assumed that the Supreme Mother would make an exception in our case.

Once we were finished, Dr. Briggs rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, “Well, that is an interesting theory,” he held out his hands to receive the drinks, “May I?”

Petra and I surrendered the drinks. “Is there any chance we can stick around to see the results?” Petra asked hopefully.

Dr. Briggs frowned and shook his head, “I am afraid not; we must do everything in our power to prevent cross-contamination. I will have Finn call you as soon as we find out something.”

“I would appreciate that,” Petra said, not bothering to hide her disappointment as Dr. Briggs turned away and disappeared into the clinic.

“Come on,” I said, giving her a playful poke in the ribs, “Let’s get home; after a long shower, we can prepare Finn a meal fit for a queen.”

“I think she would like that,” Finn agreed wistfully. “Hey, I’ll even do you one better,” I told her, “You can make it a candlelight dinner for two while I make myself scarce.”

Petra seemed to perk up a bit as we merged onto Breeze Street, but her happiness was short-lived. We had not been paying attention, and both of us were startled when we nearly collided with a werewolf, not just any wolf, but Ed Forrest.

I stepped in front of Petra and raised my hands protectively, hoping he would give me a minute to explain, but Ed wasn’t interested in conversing. He drew his hands up to his chest and tore away the tattered remains of his shirt as he fully embraced his beast mode.

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