Virulent (A Malady Story)

1

Hunter was riding home with his dad. A fluff had filled his brain, brought on by the pain medicine the doctors  had given him. He thought they were doctors, though even in his foggy state, he didn't think doctors typically wore helmets or carried guns.

Maybe I'm a dangerous radioactive substance that the bad guys are trying to steal, and that's why I'm being protected with weapons, so I don't fall into the wrong hands. Like in cartoons. He thought as he squinted at the horizon. The sky was too bright, and it didn't help that he was in the front seat, being hit with it from three angles. He stared at his lap, blinking. I don't like that. I want to be the hero, or at least the cool bad guy who blows stuff up.

Some time rolled by, tracked by the arcing sun. They lived far away from this particular hospital. Hunter didn't understand why they had to go to this one over the others. Maybe it was because this one had guns.

He decided to speak up, "Dad?"

"What is it, Hunter?" His father sounded tired. His hazel eyes were focused on the road, but there was a purplish shadow underneath them, like a bruise over his fawn skin. He got that look when he finally emerged from his office, smelling strongly and talking in a slurred, slow manner that was almost impossible to decipher through his thick New York accent.

"When I was at the hospital, we got put in a big room with," Hunter counted for a moment, "ten other kids. One was a toddler, while some were older than me, like TEENAGERS. And there was this big guard who wouldn't let us out. A kid asked for some water and the guard didn't even respond!"

"How rude," his dad said dully.

"Yeah! The guard only helped give me pain meds when my arm started aching! I think it was this arm," Hunter flexed his sore muscles on one side, glancing at it for a few seconds before raising the other arm, "No, maybe this one. Maybe both of them, but one definitely hurt more. Anyway I don't think that guard was a doctor. Could someone be a doctor and a guard?"

"Probably not,"

"Anyway I got the pain meds. They were really icky too and they wore off super fast. A different girl also got pain meds. She sat next to me and she kept poking me," he shuddered, remembering the girl with eyes such a pale shade of purple, they were like amethysts or lilacs. Surprised, he jumped in his seat. "Oh! I think  her teeth fell out! There was a lot of blood everywhere and suddenly she was holding two of them in her palm. She was, like, crying almost as loudly as the toddler! I didn't see why- my teeth fall out all the time," he wigged a loose one on the top row with his tongue to prove his point. "See?"

"Don't do that- anyway, is she your girlfriend now?" His dad asked lightly, obviously not believing anything he had said. 

Hunter huffed. "NO. I wouldn't like-like her. Her teeth were all falling out! If I tried to kiss her, they'd end up inside my mouth!" He shuddered. If I was going to like-like someone, though, it wouldn't be her.

His dad laughed at his disgust, eyes returning to the road. His expression was still a little sleepy, eyelids drooping. Maybe he had gone straight to his office after the doctors took Hunter for that emergency visit. Hunter could usually tell from the smell of the house how his father spent his alone time.

Home. He sighed loudly. Soon I can collapse on my own bed, in my own room, with my own comics, and my own dog...

He was too distracted with his own thoughts that he lost track of time. The fluff cleared out of his head as he stared wordlessly at the golden, passing farmland. The only thing to snap him out of his trance was a sudden shock of pain coming from his right arm.

Hunter yelped and looked down at it, stung. His heart did a flip as the interior of the dirty car came into sharp focus. Blinking in surprise, he though subconsciously, what if I really am a super radioactive mutant!

It would make sense, since his entire arm was covered with strange dark bruises, like thunder clouds gathered under his skin. And laying above them was a spider web of purple lines.