Page 53 of Bloodlust

I'd trade with Zoey if I could. She still smiles with her eyes. There's hope there. She might even defy science. In a year or two from now, she might be healed. She might even forget.

As feeble and emotionally drained as she looks sitting on my couch, Pinto's head on her lap, she still glows. There's light inside of her. It hasn’t completely vanished. It flickers at a dim setting. But it's there. Likethe light of a new dawn. It's only a matter of time before the sun rises.

I don't glow.

No matter what science says.

"Here." I hand Zoey a cup of hot chocolate as I sit down beside her. I place my vodka on the coffee table. She looks at the glass. "Want a pour?"

"No." Zoey brings the mug to her lips. "I told you, I'm never drinking again."

"It wasn't alcohol's fault, Zoey." I ball up my fist. "It washis. And his alone."

"I know," she whispers, tone lacking conviction. Pinto stretches, hopping down off the couch and strutting toward the front door. "Hey, where you going, bean? I was warm.”

“I need to walk him." I check the time. It's late. Clear skies and empty streets. Ideal. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

"Can I go with you?"

"I want to be alone." I nod at the TV. "Watch a movie or something."

"Okay." Disappointment flashes across her face. "Don't be too long though."

"I'll be back before you know it." I grab Pinto's leash and clip it to his collar before grabbing a jacket from the closet. "You wanna go on a walk? Yeah?"

Pinto wags his tail as we enter the elevator. I smile at him, a wave of bittersweet sadness washing over me. Cells regenerate but we all still die. Some people are lucky and die from old age. They leave us naturally. Peacefully. Others are not so lucky. No. Others are taken from us. Ripped fromthe earth.

No goodbyes. No last words.

Nothing.

I lead Pinto out of my condo building and we make our way to his favorite dog park. Pinto walks beside me. No tugging. No pulling. He's a good boy. We trained him well. He wasn't always good. Pinto had to relearn a lot of things. He had to learn how to trust us. And we had to prove to him we wouldn't hurt him. We wouldn't hit him. We would only love him.

"Whoops, sorry," a passing jogger mumbles, accidentally bumping into my shoulder as he runs past us.

"It's fine," I say to myself as he's already gone. I sink down on one knee, setting Pinto free into the grass. "Stay close, got it?"

Pinto barks and lethargically sprints into the field. I pull out a pack of cigarettes and sit down on a bench. Street lights flicker above me as I light a smoke and watch my dog entertain himself. Another jogger runs past me, and I roll my eyes. God, people are insane, but at least they're runningoutsideand not on atreadmill.

Hmm... I wonder if he's at the gym tonight. I pull out my cell phone and type out a text.

Camilla

You up?

I tap the screen, waiting for a reply. I grin when I get the notification.

The Doc

No.

I take a puff, crossing my legs.

Camilla

Come to the dog park. I need to talk.

The Doc

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