“Look at this, Batman.” Melinda waved a sheaf of papers in front of Scott’s nose, interrupting his Skyrimming time. He knew better than to start up when he was leaving in such a short time because Skyrim was like crack, but he simply couldn't resist.

“Back off, Lady Deathstriker. I’m about to go postal on this dragon’s ass. You’re messing up my flow.” Scott growled as he tried to peer around Melinda’s arm. She wouldn’t budge, though, so he reluctantly saved his game and grabbed the papers that Melinda was shoving in his face.

“You need to read this! Two dozen reported cases of bird flu at the clubs in the past three days. You –” Scott’s cell rang, and he answered it with alacrity.

“Hey, Jill, what’s up?” Scott turned away from Melinda as she made a face. Melinda couldn’t stand Jill, and the feeling was mutual; Scott didn’t much like Jill himself, but he was grateful for the interruption. He loved Melinda, but she got on his nerves with her constant worrying.

“Not much, handsome. What’s up with you?” Jill’s voice sounded thin and strained, but Scott just put it down to stress because there was always some kind of drama in Jill’s life.

“Going to The Nineties in a few. Gotta get my dance on.” At his words, Melinda started talking again about the bird flu and how it was sweeping the city, and Scott did his best to block her out.

“I left Gary, and I need to drink to forget my woes. Can I meet you there?” Scott frowned. He didn’t want to get involved in any of Jill’s drama because shit tended to get messy whenever she was around, but he didn’t quite know how to turn her down. Oh well. He could always ditch her at the club if she got to be too annoying.

“Sure. I’ll have my cell on. Give me a buzz when you’re in.” With that, Scott clicked off his phone, aware that Melinda was still talking about that damned bird flu.

“Three people have been reported dead.” Melinda frowned, looked at her notes, then slowly spoke again. “Actually, to be more precise, three people have been reported missing after contacting the bird flu and are presumed dead. However, they’ve been spotted elsewhere. Please, Scott, don’t go clubbing. I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I’ll be careful, Mel – I promise. Someone even looks like he’s going to sneeze on me, and I’m out of there. OK? OK?” Scott gave Melinda his best grin, and she reluctantly smiled in return. “That’s my girl. I gotta roll. Sure you don’t want to go with me?”

“Not if Jill the Pill is going to be there!” Melinda retorted, gamely trying to joke back. It was hard, though, because what she really wanted to do was lock Scott in his room to prevent him from going. “I’ll have my cell phone on. Call me if you need me.” Scott didn’t bother asking what she could do if he caught the bird flu because he knew she needed to feel as if she had some control. He simply nodded, kissed her on the cheek, then hit the road.

_____________

Scott had to get away from Jill. She was drunk and crying about how she had wasted her youth on Gary while simultaneously trying to grab Scott’s cock. In the meantime, a hot black guy was giving Scott the eye, and Scott wanted a piece of that action. He pushed Jill off him for the eighth or ninth time before excusing himself to go to the john. Jill immediately toddled off to the bar to order another double tequila shot. Scott made a face as he availed himself of the facilities. He wasn’t surprised to see the black guy come in a few seconds later.

“Hey. S’up?” The black guy nodded at Scott as he stood next to him at the urinal.

“Not much, you?” Scott discreetly glanced downward and was pleased with what he saw.

“’Bout to call it a night. Wanna head out with me?”

“Yeah.”

They were both zipping up when they heard a commotion outside the door. They glanced at each other before rushing out to see what was going on. There seemed to be a fight at the bar with two guys attacking everyone around them. At first, Scott couldn’t quite see what was happening, but then he saw that one of the aggressors was gouging the flesh out of the people he was attacking. Big hunks of flesh from their arms, legs, faces; he even ripped half of one woman’s boob off and stuffed it into his mouth. When the woman let out a howl, Scott realized it was Jill.

“Shit! That’s my friend!” Scott started towards Jill, but the black guy stopped him by grabbing his arm.

“Man, she’s a goner. Save yourself.” Scott opened his mouth to protest, but the black guy continued speaking. “Bro, check out the white dude. He’s not human the way he’s ripping shit up. He must be high on meth or something.” Scott looked back at the bar just in time to see the attacker tear off Jill’s ear and eat that, too. Pushing down his guilt, he nodded at his companion. Without another word, they got the hell out of there.