Chapter One: Remember the Simple Days?

I loved to watch the world go by, yet I wondered why I wasn't running to catch up with it. That was my problem in life: always thinking and never really doing. I was continuously badgered by my family for it, but there's not much a person can do about their own nature, especially when it dictates the very fabric of your well-being… or what you think is best for yourself, however you want to word it. Maybe I had my childhood to blame for my somewhat reclusive nature.

I'm not about to point out a specific culprit, though. I never liked to cling to the past.

Typically when my thoughts carried me away, I would gaze out the window of the 4th floor apartment I shared with a roommate in the relatively quiet town of Abbeville, South Carolina. The sticky southern heat bore down on the people that walked the streets below. I chuckled as I spotted my married neighbor leering at a dirty-blonde woman in a midriff baring shirt and jean cut offs, sweat clinging to her toned body. She smiled his way, and he went back to washing car in a newly nervous manner. I could see why a pretty person would bloom on a day like this.

I on the other hand hated the heat, and loathed each day such as this that I had to step out from my air-conditioned safe haven. Work required it, of course. That's why I moved here from north California in the first place, a reason that contrasted with my mother's disillusionment that I wanted a good relationship with her. June was always telling me how much our 'momma' missed me. Still, I never gave any signs of interest.

I stepped away from the window. That's enough thinking for now…

After an hour of throwing something together for dinner, the familiar jangle of my roommate's keys scratched on the door.

"Afternoon, darlin'. How goes it?" Jeff closed the door behind him, grocery bags in hand and that big, gap-toothed smile on his face. He reminded of a young boy at times… "What'd ya make?" He sniffed the pot, wrinkling his nose as though he already deemed he didn't like what was cooking. A young boy… in both appearance and actions.

"Spaghetti, you half-wit. The noodles are boiling."

"Alrigh' alrigh', no need for name calling! You feelin' hospitable tonight, chef?" I couldn't help but smile at that.

Most would be put off by the idea of a man and a woman of close age living together in a completely nonsexual manner, but I'm more put off by the idea of having to share an apartment with a female who would flip moods just as easily as I, PMS or not. Besides, Jeff was more than amiable and could make anyone crack a smile even on their crappiest days, and I needed that in my life. He's good people, that's for sure.

"So git this" he began as he grabbed a bowl and filled it with the contents of the pot once I finished, "Friend'a mine up in Charlotte tells me a lady worker of his gone missin'. Ain't nobody seen her in a few days. Checked her apartment, otha places, nuthin'!" He moved his hands as he talked, paying no attention to the food he just piled in front of him. "Then they spread the search, lookin' everywhere, go on down to a park 'bout two miles from where she lived, an-"

"Do I want to hear the end of this story?" I felt my face contorting in an unpleasant way, implying that I probably didn't want to know since I was already thinking of horrible ways this ended. Of course, Jeff kept going.

"But you needa hear this! Keep yerself safe!" I chewed on my bottom lip, and nodded for him to continue. "Anyhow, the coppers find this lil' lady. Only… she wasn't all there, if ya git my drift. Rita-girl, they found her torn the fuck up. I'm talkin' chainsaw massacre kinda thing, or my Pa leadin' a cow to the slaughter. Hardly nothin' left o' her, they didn't even know it was her 'til they ran her blood in the system!" I felt my stomach twist and drop in a less than comfortable manner, but I held my tongue as he carried on "Poor girl, kind lil' thing he said she was. No one can figur' who'd do it to her, say maybe it was a loon. I mean there's motive, but the way this girl was ripped apart, you'da think she committed a sin against God himself!"

"And now I've lost my appetite" I snapped. I closed up the pot and stalked out of the kitchen only to hear the pound of Jeff's heavy boots following me. He took my shoulders and spun me around, looking at me in a way that made me raise a brow. "What?"

"I'm bein' serious, Rita" he insisted, and I knew he meant his business when he left out the 'girl' tagged on that created my annoying nickname. "Be careful, 'specially after dark. People been goin' missin' all over lately, and this lady ain't the first to show up like this."

I patted his hand, then went so far as to pull him into a hug. "You're saying there's been more murders like this?"

"I'm saying you gotta watch your back." He looked at me with such an intensity, I thought he'd burn a hole into my skull. "Don't want nobody I care for ta end up like that. Friend'a mine is frightened outta his damn mind over it."

I nodded, and ran my hands up and down the long sleeves of his shirt, attempting to soothe him. "I'll be fine Jeff, you worry about yourself. Besides, it's in Charlotte… whoever has a penchant for mutilation is miles away from here." He gave a curt nod but still looked stricken. I gave him one last squeeze, then turned to head into my room for some much needed peace. "Oh, one more thing" I stopped in the hallway to turn back to face him. "Do they have any leads?"

"Kinda narrows it down some sonnabitch who…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"… Who what?" I pressed.

Jeff looked out the window briefly, then back to me. "Found some bite marks on what was left of 'er. Thought it was an animal attack at first, but…"

I waited for a moment, then "But? Just spit it out."

I could hear his teeth grind together, like he'd rather not think about it at all, let alone tell me. "… But the impressions in 'er skin was made by human teeth. Least that's what it looked like."

xxx

A few days later, my constantly sputtering Nissan '99 finally gave out on me and I decided I really couldn't put off getting it fixed any longer, or else I'd have to ride Jeff's old bike to work more than once. It was embarrassing enough as it is that I had to ride it there today. I made sure to stuff my tailored black pants and button up blouse deep into my messenger bag, underneath all my other crap so they wouldn't have a chance to fall out. Being an overweight girl, I hated wearing these tight leggings, but I wasn't about to sweat it out in work clothes. I suppose I'd make the most of my situation and not look at anybody as I wheeled by.

I took a few deep breaths, swallowed my bout of self-consciousness, and pedaled out of the private parking lot of my apartment building. Don't look, don't look, don't look! I stuck to the side walk, eyes trained ahead of me to avoid any uneven pavement. I thought I heard someone call out, but I ignored it. Pedal, pedal, pedal…

Working at a hospital, you'd think I'd take heed to all the obesity awareness going on. I wasn't obese, but I definitely could skip a burger or two. That, and I wasn't even a medical practitioner of any kind: I simply filed billings, records, and all that jazz. A keeper of important documents, if you will. There's a fancy name for it, but whatever. I went to college for some kind of medical degree, truth be told, but when I saw this career as an option and realized it was a pretty awesome pay and not too taxing on the hours of my life compared to that of a nurse or doctor, I clearly favored my newly found option.

That was me: constantly taking the easy way out, and never having remorse for being a self-proclaimed lazy ass. It made sense, it made life easier. I guess you wouldn't call it lazy, really… just "not reaching full potential", as my dad would say. Smart, but unmotivated. Not that he's complaining either, as long as I'm doing something with my life. What about romance, you ask? A special someone in my life? Pfft, forget it. I've had exactly one, count 'em, ONE sexual partner in my life, and I haven't bothered adding to it ever since. I didn't want to think about how long it had been.

Back to the present, though… this bike ride was becoming rather enjoyable. I wasn't thinking about being looked at with snide smirks, but rather how the wind felt on my face. The heat wasn't getting to me as I feared it would, seeing as how sweltering it was yesterday. The slightly warm air felt nice… I breathed it in, rode for another 20 minutes without a negative thought, and pulled up to the Abbeville Area Medical Center. I locked the bike up, adjusted my bra under the white sport shirt, and ran inside. I had less than 10 minutes to clock in, meaning I only had time to change.

I wasn't the most orderly-kept of people, as my job would lead you to believe. I tore off my bike-ride clothing, not caring that they landed on the bathroom floor, and yanked on my work clothes. Added some deodorant, a spritz of sweet spray, and I was good to go at the check-in desk. I smiled as I approached the voluminous red-head Darcy, who acknowledged me over her wire-rimmed glasses, "I see you're takin' my advice on being more active, darlin'?"

My smile immediately turned into an eye roll. "No, I had to ride my roommate's bike because my car is being stupid. Can I just have my badge, please?"

Darcy chuckled, handing me my ID card. I quickly clipped it to my bosom as she scribbled down my name and muttering "Rita Fuentes, present. See ya at lunch, honey."

xxx

I stared down at the pile of papers and manila envelopes on my desk, frowning. I turned to David Carmichael, who sat quietly to himself, sorting through his neat stack. "What the heck is this?" I nearly growled, "Why does it seem I have twice as much of a load than you do?"

"The boss likes me better," he cracked.

"David. Seriously."

He giggled like a boy a bit more then said "Schiffer called in sick. Said he ain't feelin' well, think maybe it's a cold or sumthin'. Fever 'n everything. Asked me if I could bring him some soup after work, that big pussy."

"Language, David" I chided.

"You cuss more than me!" He protested.

"Outside of work," I smiled, not so bothered by the mess anymore since Tommy was sick. He was here every day, never complained about a busy day or night. This was the first day he didn't clock in, which made me think it must've been pretty serious if he stayed home. "So you're going to stop by, right?"

"I'm thinkin' about it. Maybe if he lends me some Playboys and Penthouses, I will."

"You're gross."

"But the ladies loooove me!"

"Your hand doesn't count, David" I winked at him, and he pouted. "Nor do the busty ladies on magazine pages." We shared a few more laughs, and he went back to his computer as I went to organizing.

xxx

A few hours later, David called me over to his computer desk, his face crinkled into concerned forehead lines, "Rita-girl, come getta gander at this." He clicked a few files to set up a listed format, where we could see patient's names, sex, age, and diagnosis in neat columns. He pointed under the diagnosis column and I followed his index finger streaking down the screen: name after name, every diagnosis read in bold red typing "UNKNOWN".

I frowned, licking my lips nervously. "Typos?"

"Not this many, don't ya think? Not all at once" he countered.

"Click on one, read the file, then compare it to another" I suggested. He did as instructed, and I read the symptoms paragraph out loud "High fever, vomiting, thinning of the veins, profuse sweating and fluid leaks…" I trailed off when I further read the description. "'Possible form of rabies'? They were bitten by animals?"

"It doesn't say" David's voice shook as he spoke, and clicked on another file—it bore the same symptoms and description. "There've been a few cases like these 'n the past two weeks, but this is the first day I've seen such a crazy number. There definitely wusn't this many a few days ago. Think it's a new virus? A contagion?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." I didn't want to read the files any further, and returned to my desk. "Just… do your job, David. It's none of our business getting too detailed with those pages, anyway."

"But aren't you freaked out?" He protested, then stared at the screen in sudden realization. "Holy shit… what if that's what Schiffer's got?" I stared back at him, unsure of what to say. Then he pressed "Maybe I should go check on 'im. He might have to come in to get examined, get some help. He really didn't soun' good, Rita-girl." I chewed on my nail thoughtfully, still set in a nervous posture.

"I don't know what to tell you. If he does have it, which we're not sure if he does… c'mon, this is just a wild guess, you're being paranoid just because you're looking at all this crap."

"I'm gonna go check on 'im to be sure, though. If it is contagious, I'll take a surgical mask with me, jus' in case." He stood, looking at the clock as he grabbed his sweater from back of his chair. "It's my lunch break anyway."

I forced a smile, trying to lighten the situation as best as I could, "What's with the sweater? It's sticky noon in South Carolina."

"Never know when it might rain, honey. Said it yerself: it's the south" he smiled back and winked. "See ya, Rita-girl." He logged off his profile, pushed his chair in, and pinched my cheek playfully before he walked out.

That was the last I'd heard of Tommy Schiffer and the last time I saw David Carmichael.

xxx

A/N: I love reviews, so please leave them! This was an introductory to the rather lifeless world of Rita Fuentes, and things are definitely gonna get to be a bloody good time next chapter. Thanks guys!