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Chapter 7:

Two men sat upon cushy chairs in an extravagant lounge room with a modern edge.  On one end of the room, a bartender wearing a facemask and sunglasses stood at attention, while a large aquarium of exotic fish lined the wall on the opposite end of the two gentlemen.

“Do you think they’re catching onto us?”  One of the men, a middle-aged man in a well-tailored gray suit asked, methodically stroking his goatee.  His hair was heavily grayed with a receding hairline.

“Do you have any reason to believe they are, Leo?”  The other man asked, raising an eyebrow.  He appeared in his early thirties, with dark skin, a shaved head, and a full but well-trimmed beard.

“Not specifically,” Leo sighed in response.  “As far as we can tell, they still assume the cause to be related to drug trafficking and distribution.  But, you can surely understand my concern, can’t you, Damon?”

Damon nodded in agreement before raising a hand and glancing toward the bartender.  “White Russian.  Tall glass; just a bit of ice.”  After his order, he shifted focus back to the conversation at hand.  “I hear you loud and clear.  The LSIU isn’t stupid, after all,” he stated simply, gazing toward the aquarium as a lionfish swam by.

“They’re definitely not stupid,” Leo agreed.  “That’s why I want your input here, Damon.  You’re the investigative expert after all.”

Damon pressed his fingertips together and slowly exhaled, still fixated on the aquarium.  “From what I’ve gathered, they’re likely still investigating the drug angle; it would be stupid to rule it out completely when there’s so much supporting evidence for that theory.  However, they’re definitely expanding their scope of investigation.  They likely suspect drugs to be a red herring and will start bringing specialized equipment and personnel to scour the areas where Livestock Syndrome outbreaks occur the most.”

Leo scowled and grunted under his breath.  “The odds of us getting caught will steadily rise if they preemptively put our target zones under surveillance, especially since we don’t know exactly what technology they have available at their disposal.”

“True enough.  I can say with certainty that they haven’t unveiled the source of transmission for our Livestock Syndrome outbreak and it would be best to keep it that way…  Not that we don’t have backup plans.” He accepted the white russian from the bartender and took a sip before setting it on the end table next to him.

Ten seconds of silence passed while Leo sighed and tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair.  “We will stop targeting low income areas immediately; let them continue digging around in the dirt while we move onto phase two.”

“Oh?  What’s the plan, idea guy?”  Damon asked with a slight smirk, taking another sip of his drink.

Jeanie stirred from her slumber and rubbed her eyes, letting out a yawn.  She felt groggy and hungover despite not having consumed alcohol the night prior.  Then again, her first days of work at her new job had been stressful to say the least, though her coworkers were incredible.

She stared at the ceiling, watching the fan oscillate while a gentle breeze wafted through the dimly lit room.  This was supposed to be her first of three days off, but she already couldn’t get work off her mind.

As she stood and went to shower, she felt strangely lethargic, her limbs requiring extra effort to lift and move.  “Ugh…  Maybe I have a cold,” she muttered, noticing the scratchy throat and dull headache.  It was no matter, though; she’d get a few days to rest and recover.

After showering and dressing in a tee-shirt and pajama shorts, she walked down the steps in her townhouse and flopped onto her couch, laying face down with her limbs stretched over the sides.  She had a ton to think about but no mental capacity left to adequately process the slew of thoughts and emotions swirling in her head. 

‘Maybe I should visit Mabel sometime,’ she mused after a few minutes.  She then winced and felt a mix of dread and guilt.  After spending all week dealing with Livestock Syndrome, she didn’t know if she had it in her to face Mabel, and that fact made her feel awful.  Mabel was her sister, not some random Livestock Syndrome victim.  It was hard, though-- seeing that look of forlorn longing and sadness in her sister’s eyes when they saw each other;  That unending wellspring of envy and longing within Mabel when her very human loved ones came to visit.  Sure, she hid it well, but Jeanie knew better.  The fact of the matter was that no matter how many inventions and accommodations were invented and provided for LS victims, they would never truly stop mourning their human lives. Carrie was something special, though.  Despite losing her humanity and even her sex, there was stalwart determination within the mare.

“Man…  What am I supposed to do?”  Jeanie lamented, shifting as she sat up with her legs crossed.  She flipped the television on and put on some cooking show on Netflix-- one of a seemingly infinite number of ‘Chopped’ knock-offs that served well as background noise.  She then pulled a throw blanket over herself and rested her head against the sofa’s arm, starting to scroll through her phone for mindless entertainment.  Anything to distract her from the increasingly distressing musings that wandered into her psyche.

After an hour, Jeanie’s phone rang just as she started to zone out to a stream of cute cat videos.  Without checking, she answered with a tired, “Mmm, this is Jeanie.  Can I help you?”

“Jeanette, it’s me,” a female voice replied.

Jeanie winced. ‘Of course it’s mom,’ she sighed.  “Mom-- hey.  How are you?  I just got done with my first week at the new job.”

“Oh, you started your FBI job?  I’m sure you must be stressed and regretting it by now,” the mother worriedly replied.

Regretting it? Jeanie winced again and resisted the urge to sigh into the receiver.  Mom had gone on and on about how she was getting in over her head trying to work such a ‘big, important government job,’ in her words.  “Actually, it went great.  My coworkers are great and I’m already doing well,” she replied, doing everything in her power not to sound snarky.

“I see,” mom said plainly from the other side. “Anyways, you should go visit your s-- well…  You know.  Why don’t you go see her?”

Jeanie’s heart sank further as she heard her mother’s words.  It was no secret that the family matriarch hadn’t taken Mabel’s Live Stock Syndrome well.  After seeing Mabel in a half-transformed state at one point, she made no further effort to ever see her again. “You were going to say ‘visit your sister,’ right?  You know, Mabel?  Your daughter?”  She asked with a twinge of harshness in her tone.

“Don’t start copping an attitude with me again, Jeanette,” the older woman sternly retorted. “This has been very hard for me.  It’s different when it’s someone you birthed and raised from a baby.”

“You know her mind is still intact, right?  She still remembers all of us-- all of the love you showed her and all of the fun we had as a family,” Jeanie nearly spat in response, clutching her phone tightly.  “Why don’t you visit her?  Tell her that you still love her and think about her?  You’re retired, so you can’t use work as an excuse any more.”

“I should have known you’d be like this,” she sighed in exasperation.  “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be asking you to go see her.  You get along with her better than anyone else, so it makes sense to have you send our well wishes,” she insisted. “You know I have depression and anxiety issues; can you understand how much it breaks a mother’s heart to see her child suffer?  Just be good and do this for me-- for us.”

Jeanie’s mother always had a retort for everything. ‘Always the victim,’ she mused with an eye roll.  “What if Mabel says she wants to see you?  What if she’d like nothing more than to receive a visit from mom?”  She knew she should have dropped it, but she couldn’t help herself.

There was an uncomfortable silence and a sigh from the other end before the mother spoke up. “We can tackle that issue if it comes up; why are you being so difficult?  I’m already in so much pain from my arthritis, so why do you want to hurt me on top of that?”’

“I’m not trying to hurt you, mom,” Jeanie said flatly, trying to stay calm.  “I grew up with Mabel, too.  We’re best friends and she’s my role model who I look up to.  Aren’t I allowed to feel sad, anxious, and depressed too?  Do you think my sister turning into a cow has been a walk in the park for me? Do you think it’s easier for Mabel than it is for you?  Do you know how sad she’d be if she knew you wouldn’t even refer to her by name or as your daughter any more?”

“She’s a fucking COW, Jeanette,” the older woman snapped. “Yes, she was my daughter, Mabel.  And if I didn’t love her, I wouldn’t be asking you for help.  You’re younger and more open minded with this whole Livestock Syndrome thing, but do you have any idea how hard it is for me?  You want me to go visit a literal cow with my daughter’s memories and just act like everything is normal-- like she’s human.  I was supposed to help her put on a wedding gown-- to get brunch like we do on the first Sunday of every month…  To go shopping and watch movies, but she’s a cow.  Am I supposed to hang pictures of a farm animal up in my home and proudly talk about how proud I am to have a daughter with hooves when company shows up?  Yes, she’s obviously the one hit the hardest, but pretending I’m not affected is disingenuous and manipulative.”

“Okay.”  Jeanie said flatly after listening to the rant. “I’ll visit her soon, but not because of you.  I visit her because I love her and I don’t need you asking.  Next time you feel guilty, strong arm someone else into doing your bidding for once.”

WIth that, Jeanie hung up the phone and dropped it onto the couch cushion next to her.  She then placed her hands over her face and broke into sobs, tears streaming from her eyes and dripping between her fingers. ‘Fuck-- fucking hell…  Some start to my goddamn weekend; why didn’t I check the caller before answering?’ She lamented, wishing had had never entertained the phone call to begin with.

“How are you feeling, Reggie?”  Shelly asked softly, speaking to a woman sitting up in a medical bed.

“I-- I’m okeh…”  Reggie stammered in response.  WIth her mouth stuck part way between mouth and muzzle, speech could prove difficult. A small set of horns stuck from atop her head, with curly white hair falling to her shoulders.

“Do your feet hurt today?”  Shelly prodded.

Reggie lifted one of her feet, exposing her cloven hoof before briefly wiggling it.  “N-- Neu-- no.  It doeshn’t hurt todeh,” she muttered hopefully.  A short tail tuft sticking through a hole in her medical gown gently swished back and forth.

“I’m happy to hear it,” Shelly smiled, taking a step back to look Reggie over.  The partially transformed woman had fluffy white fur around her neck, much like a scarf or muffler, along with curly white fluff going up her legs and arms.  Additionally, her ears sat high on her head and were elongated with a downward taper.  “I obviously haven’t given you an in-depth physical evaluation today, but from what I’m seeing, your symptoms have not progressed.  That’s three days in a row with no obvious progression.  Have you noticed any changes?”  She asked hopefully.

Reggie’s ears perked, a slight smile showing on her face.  “No-- I… I dohn’t think ah’ve ch-- changed,” she hopefully responded.

“How is your sense of vision? No changes?”  Shelly leaned in and took a close look at Reggie’s eyes, with were yellow-brown in color with slightly widened pupils.

“Ith weird having s-- such a wide fehld of vision… But neu-- no more chahnges.”

Shelly let out a sigh of relief.  It was too soon to say for sure, but this might be the world changing breakthrough they’ve been looking for.  Once Livestock Syndrome symptoms ramped up, the transformation proceeded with great haste.  For someone in an in between state such as Reggie to have no apparent progression in three days was unprecedented. ‘Please let this be the answer,’ she internally pleaded, hoping their most recent round of experimental medical treatment would lead them down the road of stopping Livestock Syndrome.  

“I have a new coworker I’d like you to meet next week if you’re comfortable with it.  She’s a sweetheart,” Shelly said with great warmth.

Chapter 8:

On the second morning of Jeanie’s weekend, she spent a solid forty-five minutes staring at the ceiling after waking up, her mind racing.  On top of everything she learned during her first week at her new place of employment, she had made the terrible mistake of taking a call from her mother the day prior.

A pang of guilt welled up as she considered whether she should go visit her sister.  The whole point of this three-day weekend was to relax after a grueling week, so she was erring on the side of going to see Mabel the following week.  That begged the question-- had visiting Mabel become stressful?  Why did the thought of seeing her sister make her heart sink?

She rolled onto her side and groaned, pulling a pillow to her face as she ruminated.  ‘Of course it’s stressful,’ she reasoned.  She knew her sister was still suffering a great deal of emotional and mental turmoil due to her bovine form, and who could blame her?  She would never forget that look of profound sadness and envy in Mabel’s eyes.  While she loved her sister with all her heart, it was hard seeing someone she loved in such a difficult state.

She had to remind herself that Livestock Syndrome was hard on everyone, not just the one infected.  The entire family would deal with the fallout and there was no shame in getting stressed out.  “I need to get out today,” she muttered, standing from bed as she let out a yawn and stretched.

After showering and dressing, she walked to her living room and flopped onto the couch, phone in hand.  It was only then she noticed a text from her good friend, Darren, who helped her get a job with the LSIU.  Faintly blushing, she eagerly opened the text.

“Congrats on finishing your first week of work!  Let me get you some dinner to celebrate; what do you say?”

Jeanie considered his proposal.  Spending time with Darren meant laughter, good drinks, and an overall great evening, something she desperately needed at this time.  Without any further consideration, she responded with, “Sure, why not!  Give me a call when you’re free?”

She sent the text and only just started to consider what to eat for lunch when her phone rang.  Happy at the quick response, she answered with an enthusiastic, “Hey!  Long time, no see.”

“Hey, Jeanie!  How are you holding up after your first week?” Darren warmly asked, showing interest in her wellbeing.

“Well, you know…  I’m still alive and all that,” she sighed and shook her head.  “I feel like I’m valued and my coworkers are amazing.  I’m stressed to all hell, but it’s no one’s fault, really.”

“I get it.  When should I come grab you?”

“Oh, umm…”  Jeanie briefly considered the question.  “Give me like an hour and I should be good if you want to hang out early.”

“Sounds good!  I’ll be there, then.  Don’t eat too much before we go out, okay?” Darren said warmly.

After saying their goodbyes, Jeanie took a deep breath and dropped her phone onto the couch.  “I need this distraction…”  There was no shame in being exasperated; she had to remind herself that all humans had limits.

Upon hearing a knock, Jeanie promptly trotted over and opened the door, a wide smile appearing as Darren stepped in.  He was a tall, muscular man with short, neat blond hair, a well trimmed beard, and pale blue eyes.

“Good to see you,” Darren grinned, leaning over to hug her.

Jeanie returned the hug and closed her eyes tightly.  Darren and her had been friends for well over a decade by now, and despite mutual chemistry, they never managed to be single at the same time so the prospect of a relationship never came to fruition.  “It’s good to see you, too.  You look good,” she added, pulling back as she admired the man’s fitted button-up shirt and slacks.

“Not as good as you,” Darren added.  “Shall we?”

Jeanie nodded and walked out with Darren, glancing down at her outfit.  She decided to wear a flowy deep red sundress that looked nice but not too flirty.  ‘I think this was a good choice,’ she told herself, proud of her fashion sense.

After getting into Darren’s car, they drove off and made small talk the whole way to get drinks and food.  Jeanie found herself laughing more than once, the stress of the last week gradually melting away in lieu of more optimistic, happy thoughts.

Before long, they arrived at a high-end sushi restaurant with a bar and were politely greeted by the hostess.  “Right this way,” she said warmly, leading the two to a nice, cushy booth near the back where they had a little more privacy.

Jeanie blushed as she sat, glancing around at the decor.  This wasn’t the type of place she would have eaten at in the past; not because she didn’t like sushi, because she absolutely loved sushi, but because she couldn’t have afforded it.  “Oh-- umm…  I haven’t gotten my first paycheck yet; I’m not sure if I can even afford an appetizer,” she weakly laughed, folding her hands in her lap.

Darren raised an eyebrow.  “You think I’d drag you to a place like this if it wasn’t my treat?  Enjoy yourself, no strings attached,” he insisted.

“Are you sure?”  Jeanie asked hesitantly, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt.  She wasn’t used to others paying for her; even her own mother started charging her rent as soon as she turned eighteen and until she moved out.

“Positive.  I’ll get us started,” Darren replied with a soft laugh.  

As the waitress approached, Jeanie noticed she was a little red in the face, with sweat beading on her brow.  ‘A little under the weather, perhaps?’

“Thank you f-- for your patronage; I’m Yumi.” the woman said softly through a strained smile.  “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Of course.  Let’s try a bottle of your lychee sake…  Hell, why not?  How about some of your top-shelf Soju as well?”  Darren replied with a smile.

Jeanie found herself distracted by the waitress’s demeanor; something about her screamed “not right”.  Whether it was some hidden intuition or unfounded paranoia, she couldn’t shake her mounting concern.

As the waitress left, Jeanie shook those troubled thoughts from her head; she was supposed to be relaxing, not stressing out over every little thing.  “Soju and sake, huh?  I do enjoy both-- and lychee, for that matter.  Maybe you’ll successfully butter me up at this rate,” she laughed.

“Why would I want to butter you up?”  Darren teased while raising an eyebrow.

“Because, umm…”  Jeanie considered the question.  “Because I’m super cute?” She asked innocently.

Darren gave her an incredulous look before the facade broke and his visage contorted into a cheeky grin.  “You make a good argument.  Since you’re so cute, I’ll have to keep buttering you up.  Perhaps with some seared garlic skipjack tuna nigiri?”

“I’m liking what I’m hearing so far.  What else do you plan on feeding me?”  Jeanie demanded, leaning forward as she propped her elbows on the table and placed her hands on her cheeks, staring directly into Darren’s eyes.

On the opposite end of the sushi restaurant, a man with short black hair, small-rimmed glasses, and a black suit sat at a booth, with a stoic expression.  As the red-faced waitress made her rounds about the restaurant, he kept a close eye on her while making sure his observations didn’t draw attention.

When Yumi approached him and served a platter of sushi, his stern expression became one of apparent concern.  “Thank you, Yumi…  By the way, are you feeling alright?”  He asked carefully.  “You look a little red in the face.”

“O-- oh, I am fine, Mr. Thompson,” she promised, forcing a smile.

The man quickly scanned the waitress from top to bottom.  Her well-fitted slacks and top appeared tight, with her top digging into her flesh. ‘Perfect,’ he mused, stopping himself from flashing a smile.  “Just make sure you’re drinking water and eating properly; I wouldn’t want my favorite waitress falling ill.”

Yumi smiled and nodded.  “Yes, of course-- I…”  Now that he mentioned it, she did feel awfully thirsty.  And, despite feeling nauseous, her stomach rumbled with hunger.  Just what was going on with her today?  “Please just let me know if you need anything.”

“Of course,” Mr. Thompson agreed.  “I’m good for now, but I’ll certainly let you know if I require assistance.”  For now, he only needed to continue his observation.

“Obviously we can’t discuss specific details in a place like this, but how are you feeling after your first week of work?”  Darren asked enthusiastically.

“Extremely positive,” Jeanie genuinely replied.  “It’s hard work, but everyone is so nice…  The benefits are great and I’m treated like I have value.  It’s weird feeling like a vital member of a team instead of a grunt who could easily be replaced.”

“I’m not surprised.  I wouldn’t have recommended you if I didn’t think you’d contribute a great deal of value to the team,” Darren stated gently.  “I’m proud of you; keep it up and we can keep enjoying celebratory nights just like this.”

Jeanie blushed and averted her gaze while lifting her sake cup to take a sip. “You want more nights like this?”  She asked sheepishly, clenching a hand over her knee under the table.

“I do,” Darren admitted.  “I-- well…”  He blushed while taking a deep breath.  “I’m hoping we can think of this outing as a date.  What do you say?”

Jeanie’s heart raced.  Was he asking her out?  Was this a date?  Did she want it to be?  Her mind swirled.  Why now?  It was true that they were both single now, and they lived close to each other.  Were the stars finally aligned?  “W-- We’re definitely on a date,” Jeanie replied, nearly hopping in her seat. ‘Holy shit!  I get to have a boyfriend?  I don’t have to be single-- and with Darren?’ This was exactly what she wanted.

“Oh my god…”  Darren slunk in his seat and let out a low, deep breath.  “You have no idea how nervous I was.  I kept psyching myself out-- convincing myself you wouldn’t want to date me,” he laughed weakly, shaking his head.

“You were that nervous over dating me?”  Jeanie asked in disbelief.  She didn’t consider herself a prized catch, but much of that had to do with confidence issues she was actively working through.  “Spending time with you makes me feel so light and free…  Like I can forget about all my life problems.  Dating someone who can make me feel that way sounds perfect,” Jeanie promised, offering a genuine, loving smile.

“What an amazing day,” Darren beamed, sitting up straight with an unyielding smile.  “Now that I have you, do I still have to spoil you?”  He asked innocently.

“Absolutely,” Jeanie immediately replied.  “How about some of that tuna you mentioned earlier?  That would be a great way to spoil me.”

“As you wish, my dear,” Darren chuckled, their table’s mood light and cheery.

“W-- Would you like to order something to eat?”  Yumi suddenly stammered as she approached the table.

“Yeah, can we g--,” Darren started before looking at Yumi and feeling deeply concerned. “Hey, is everything okay?” 

Yumi now appeared visibly bloated.  One of the buttons on her shirt was gone, her face bright red while she panted weakly.  “I-- I’m o-- ooooh…”  She groaned, a couple of small white feathers falling from her sleeves.

Jeanie’s eyes followed the feathers, a look of mixed dread and confusion plastered on her face.  She quickly looked up and noticed Yumi’s lips contorted strangely, taking on a yellowish tinge.  Everything clicked in an instant.  She and Darren locked eyes, exchanging mutual looks of horror.

Mr. Thomson watched the ordeal unfold from the opposite end of the restaurant.  He raised an eyebrow as he observed, plopping a piece of tuna belly into his mouth using his chopsticks.  For a brief moment, he couldn’t repress a smile.  ‘Faster than expected.’  If everything went as planned, Yumi wouldn’t be the night’s only victim.

END

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