David Morrell - The Totem

"We have to guess for now it's rabies. Or a virus that has all its symptoms."

"Which is fine if no one were exposed to it," Owens said. "But what about that owner? And yourself? If this is rabies, you'll have to take the serum shots, but we don't know if they'd do any good."

They studied one another, and the medical examiner reached up to touch his mask, the swollen lip beneath it. He'd forgotten. Or more truthfully, he'd tried to keep from thinking of those shots. "I'll take them anyway."

"But what if they don't work well with the virus? What if there's a bad reaction?"

"Hell, if I've already got it, I'll be dead soon anyway. What difference does it make?"

The medical examiner suddenly remembered something that the owner had first told him, that he'd let slip by in the excitement, something that the rabies serum shots reminded him about.

"He said his dog had been inoculated."

"What?"

"The owner. He mentioned that the dog had received its shots."

"What's his name?"

The medical examiner told him.

"Okay, there isn't any other animal clinic, so his file will have to be here. Try some other slides. Make sure we didn't do them wrong. I'll come back in a minute." Owens hurried toward the door that led down to the offices in front.

The medical examiner obeyed the instructions he'd been given. His legs were shaking as he stumbled toward the microscope. He peered at all the slides, and each one was the same, and he was really scared now.

Owens pushed the door open so forcefully that the medical examiner flinched.

"He was right." Owens had a file in one hand, raising it. "That dog is five years old. It had its puppy shots, its boosters every year."

"Well, could the boosters be the cause of this? Contamination in the vaccine?"

"I don't know, but sure as hell I'm going to learn."

"Even if the vaccine were prepared correctly, could it have been so strong that it caused the virus?"

"In the case of rabies, maybe. With a weak dog. One chance in a hundred thousand. But I don't know how the vaccine would produce the thing we're looking at."

"One chance might be all this thing might need."

They frowned at each other.

"Look, I've got to make a call." The medical examiner grabbed the phone and dialed. Marge was answering. "I've got to talk to Slaughter."

"He's been looking everywhere for you," she said. "He's at the Baynard mansion."

"What?"

Then she told him the rest, and he felt sicker.

"I'm on my way."

He hung up, turning to Owens. "Run the antibody test, the fluoroscope. I'll get back as soon as I can manage."

"But what's wrong?"

There wasn't time to explain. The medical examiner tugged off his gloves and face mask. Urgent, he yanked at the door to meet the darkness.

It kept howling.

"Jesus. Lord, I wish that thing would stop."

The policemen stood in the glare of the headlights, a net spread out before them. Rettig had come back a little while ago. He'd looked everywhere to find a net, the sporting-goods stores, the zoo down in the park as Slaughter had suggested, but he hadn't seen one. He'd been frantic since the stores had all been closed, and he'd been forced to call the owners, but they hadn't been home. Then as he had given up and started back to Slaughter, he had slammed his brakes on, staring at the restaurant across the street. It hadn't done well, and the business had been sold. A seafood place in cattle country. Why had anyone put money in it? But the decorations still were in there, and he saw the heavy sea nets hanging in the window. He had run across. The doors were locked. He didn't know the owners. He finally pulled out his gun and smashed the back-door window.

Slaughter hadn't liked that, but he didn't want to say so. After all, the man had tried. At least they had the net now, and that really was what mattered. He told his men how they would have to do this as the howling kept on from the upper stories, and they clearly didn't want to go in. For that matter, Slaughter didn't want to go himself. "The main thing is, don't hurt the boy." He glanced to see if Dunlap heard that. If this thing turned sour, he wanted to avoid accusations about police brutality. He wanted all his men to know without a doubt that they were only to restrain the boy.

"But what if he attacks us?"

"Just don't hurt him. Keep the net between you and the boy. We'll get him tangled in it. After that, we shouldn't have much problem."

Slaughter looked at Dunlap again, hoping that Dunlap understood how clear and cautious every order had been. He squinted from the headlights aimed toward the porch. He saw the mother and the father, and they still weren't in their car. He saw the woman from the Potter's Field Historical Society, the other cruisers that had gotten here not long ago, the headlights of another cruiser speeding up the gravel driveway.

"Well, we've got enough men. Let's do it."

But the headlights weren't another cruiser. Slaughter recognized the car. It was the medical examiner's, and Slaughter told them, "Wait a second," as he stepped from the porch.

The medical examiner got out of his car and rushed forward.

"Where have you been? I've been looking-" Slaughter stopped talking when he saw the blood across the man's shirt, the mangled lips. "What happened to your face?"

"There isn't time to explain. I know this thing's a virus, but I'm not sure if it's rabies."

"Is it just as bad?"

"It's maybe worse. It seems to work much faster. There's a dog that passed through one stage of the virus sooner than it should have. We're still doing tests."

"Well, what about this boy up there?"

The medical examiner winced as he heard the howling from the upper stories. "That's a boy who's doing that?" His face was twisted with the shock of disbelief.

"I have to think it is. There could be some stray dog up there, but we don't have a reason to believe that."

"God, I once heard someone sound like that."

"A case of rabies?"

"Back in med school. But the other symptoms weren't the same as this. A victim of rabies might get vicious, even bark and snap at someone."

"Bark?"

"The muscles in the neck constrict. The person tries to talk, but all the words come out like barking."

"This is howling ."

"That's exactly what I mean. The symptoms aren't the same. It sounds more like an animal. Besides, I never heard of anyone with rabies who had actually attacked someone. Oh, I read cases in the medical books but never met a doctor who'd actually seen it happen."

"Then we don't know any more than when we started."

"That's not true. We know there's something, and we're fairly certain it's contagious."

"But the parents claim the boy was never bitten."

"Sure, and I just saw a dog that had its shots, and now it's dead back at the vet's."

The howling started again.

"Damn. I should have thought. The moon," the medical examiner said.

"Now you've lost me."

"Look at it." He pointed toward the almost full moon that was shining toward the mansion. 'That symptom is at least consistent. Victims of rabies are enraged by light. Their eyes are sensitive. They seek out darkness. When the moon rises, they start reacting to it."

"Howling?"

"Rapid dogs will, and in this case one small boy."

"They say he cut his hand on glass this morning."

"That's too soon. It takes about a week before the rabies virus starts to show symptoms. But if this thing is quicker than the normal virus, if the glass had been licked by an infected animal, that would be enough to transmit it. When you catch the boy, the first thing I want to do is see that cut."

The howls were rising.

"It's like something, someone, crazy," Slaughter told him.