Bunny looked across to Bruno at the bar, who gave her a quick thumbs-up, meant to let her know she was doing a great job. If prancing around a stage in absurd heels and a G-string was doing a great job, then she guessed she was aces.
Then, there was that sixth sense. That situational awareness. Something in the crowd kept drawing her attention, something she just couldn't seem to stop looking towards. Deep down, Bunny knew, she was still a cop. No badge, uniform, or gun made you an officer of the law. It was something inside you, something no one could take away.
Sheila had dropped to her hands and knees, crawling across the stage, sexiness exuding from her gaze. In front of her, a customer kept coughing, and it was there that Bunny kept looking, at the back of his head. Something was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she couldn't give it her full attention.
She did a spin on the pole, sliding down it, blowing a kiss to the crowd, paying no mind to the practically drooling looks the men sitting around the edge of the stage were giving her. Something didn’t sit quite right with the coughing man, something that made her uneasy. He didn't seem dangerous, but then again, neither had that door when she and her partner had walked up to it.
Sheila pulled herself up to her knees, running her hands over her bare body, licking her lips. The coughing man rose, hacking hard and loud and took a single staggering step. The scene descended into the depths of hell in such a quick fashion that it was mind-numbing to witness.
From where she stood, Bunny saw it all clearly, but felt frozen, helpless to do anything but watch. Just like that day, all she could do was observe, and remember, for the rest of her life, what happened. It would be another nightmare to haunt her dreams.
The customer staggered forward and hit the edge of the stage. Sheila gave him a disgusted look and opened her mouth to say something, probably a warning about touching the stage. He raised his head, and vomited blood.
This was not a trickle, either, as it gushed out of him like a geyser, hitting Sheila as she screamed. It lasted only a second, maybe two, but it seemed like forever. An eternity of blackish-red bile from the pits of Hell itself washed over the woman.
Bunny broke from her paralysis as the man slumped across the stage, twitching. Sheila was still screaming as Bunny kicked off her shoes and jumped from the stage, pushing her way through the suddenly terrified mob. Voices rose, joining Sheila as people pushed and shoved, making for the exit. Chaos erupted like a wave, customers and waitresses running for the door.
Bunny froze for a second, overwhelmed by the horrid stench coming off the blood soaked woman. Taking a step forward, she reached out, intending to get the woman off the stage at least. She had no love for Sheila, but no one deserved... whatever this was.
The man moved, jerking upwards, hissing in a long, loud breath and letting out a feral, awful groan. Bunny stared at him, wide-eyed, the screaming mob, the sound of tables over-turning, glass breaking, all fading as the man turned towards her. She looked at his face, and knew in a flash, that what she’d always held as the worst day of her life had only been a prelude. This was the real thing.
His skin was pale and ashy, his eyes yellowed and seeping blackish blood. He stared at her with a horrible gaze, filled with something she recognized, for it was impossible to mistake. In those terrible eyes was hunger.
Opening his mouth, he growled and reached out for her, jaw widening. Bunny could only stand there, too shocked to move, until she felt a hand close on her arm. It was cold, the grasp impossibly strong. Instinct took over then, moving her body without hesitation, driving a fist into his face and staggering him backwards. Regardless, he didn't release his grip.
On the stage, Sheila was crying and screaming between bouts of coughing, a terrible sound Bunny had heard before from Amy and the man grasping her arm. She didn't have time to mull over the thoughts racing through her mind, as the man was turning towards her again, snarling, unfazed by the blow she'd given him.
Jerking her arm, she found his grip was iron tight. He reeled himself in to her, jaw opening, teeth bared, as if he meant to bite her. In a flash of realization, Bunny saw his intentions. The hunger in his eyes was literal, and she was the prey.
A deafening boom drowned out all other sounds as the man's head jerked sideways. The grip on Bunny's arm faded, and she watched as he toppled to the floor, half his face gone. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Bruno holding the shotgun Randy kept under the bar for emergencies, the barrel smoking in the bartender's trembling hands.
"He was going to bite you," Bruno said quietly.
Bunny nodded slowly, realizing she was panting and shaking herself. Turning her attention back to Sheila, she saw the woman collapsed on the stage, a trembling heap covered in horror. Try as she might, Bunny couldn't get a handle on things. It’d happened too fast, insanely fast.
"Get Rebecca," she said finally, voice trembling. "We need towels, and blankets."
Bruno said nothing as he turned and fled. Bunny started to step onto the stage, but felt a hand on her arm, stopping her. Turning, tearing her eyes off Sheila, she saw Caroline. They stared at each other for a moment then Caroline shook her
