Still, Dr. Dratoc tries to make an effort, and agrees to attend a friend’s party. He decides to go dressed up as doctor. Who will know? He considers helping out in the ER for a day, to get his lab coat nice and splattered. He dismisses the idea immediately, of course—Typhoid Mary was bad enough; he’d hate to be remembered as Staph-Infection Steve.
The party is thumping, packed with Miley Cyruses and government-shutdown-pun costumes. Dratoc is standing next to the punch bowl, marveling at a party in the modern era that even bothers with a punch bowl, nevermind the vectors for bacteria transmission it presents. Still, it’s full of alcohol, so there’s that. He’s talking to Greg Seibar, the party’s host's roommate, who’s dressed, of course, like a zombie.
“So, dude. Get this. Later? Doug? You remember Doug? Crazy Doug? He’s coming as a vampire. With bats, dude. With bats.”
“I see,” says Dr. Dratoc, trying to ignore Seibar’s attempt at lividity. Is that guacamole spread on his face?
“Real live bats dude. Seriously, it’s going to be—“
There’s a scream, and the crowd parts as a man stumbles into the room, falling over and crashing through coffee table. He’s dressed in dark red, a tattered cape on his back. He manages to stand up, and there’s more screams. The makeup on his face is incredibly realistic. Red welts all over, foam running from his mouth. His eyes are wild and rolling as he staggers towards a girl dressed like an undead postal worker, grinding his teeth.
“Dude!” Greg, sloshing a cupful of punch and taking it to the new arrival. “Freaking awesome dude! Have a—“
At the sight of the cup the man goes into a rage, bellowing at an ungodly volume, knocking the cup to one side, and lunging for Greg’s throat. Dr Dratoc leaps forward and pulls the man back before he can sink his teeth into Greg’s flesh.
~~~
Rabies, or hydrophobia, or lyssavirus, has been around for most of recorded history, and probably predates civilization. Since it’s naming, some 4000 years ago, the disease has always been associated with animals, which is why, when symptoms show in someone without the presentation of zootic contexts, diagnoses can be varied. This makes “zombie!” an easy way to describe someone afflicted with late-stage rabies.
Symptoms can be similar to what is seen in your “fast and angry” type zombie movies, such as World War Z and 28 Days Later. In fact, fans of these popular zombie vehicles will recall that at the start of the outbreaks in these films, rabies is believed to be the cause of the violence that humanity witnesses.
Rabies can be transmitted via the saliva, which is why biting is often the means by which new victims become infected. Modern treatments now include some protocols that have shown limited success even in post-symptomatic patients.
~~~
While Dr. Dratoc struggles with the enraged man, Greg scoots himself backwards and hides behind a table. “What the damn hell! He thinks he’s a zombie! He thinks—“
Moving quickly, Dratoc pulls his wallet out and shoves it into the man’s mouth. The man clamps down on it hard enough to make his jaw bulge.
Everyone’s staring. A girl dressed like slutty Gloria Steinem says, “Is he having a stroke?”
“No, he has rabies. The wallet’s for him to bite on instead of me." The man struggles, but Dratoc holds on. "Someone call 911. And get them to send animal control to this idiot’s house. He’s probably got a pile of dead bats in his basement.”
Half a dozen people pull out cell phones and start poking. One takes a picture. “Is he going to be alright?” the girl says.
Dr. Dratoc tightens his grip, even as the man begins to relax, easing from mania into lethargy. “Probably not. I say he’s got an eight percent chance. But stupider things have happened.”
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