Prologue

The Bite

Rabies is nearly 100% fatal once symptoms appear, but it is almost entirely preventable with timely treatment. The vaccine for rabies was one of the first developed by Louis Pasteur in 1885, and it remains highly effective. Wildlife vaccination programs, such as those using baited rabies vaccines, have helped control the spread of the disease in wild populations, particularly among bats, raccoons, and coyotes.

People who are bitten by wild animals or animals that could be rabid are advised to receive post-exposure prophylaxis (PEP). Each year, about 60,000 Americans receive PEP after potential exposure to rabies. But what if they don’t…

T he rabbit’s small nose twitched as it sniffed the scrub grass, each inhale shaky, broken by a dull ache where the predator’s teeth had pierced its flesh. The memory of those sharp fangs haunted him, his tiny body quivering as the seconds replayed in his mind. Somehow, he had escaped. But how? He didn’t know. His thoughts fluttered like fragile leaves caught in a storm—disjointed, frantic.

He nibbled at the grass, forcing his mind to focus on food. Shelter would come next, but hunger gnawed at him. There was something wrong, a strange unease crawling just beneath his fur, but it was distant... for now. He chewed slowly, oblivious to the invader already working its way deeper into his veins.

A day passed, and the unease spread. The rabbit knew something was wrong. He was restless, his mind clouded by a strange, buzzing anxiety that tightened around him, smothering his thoughts. Sunlight became too sharp, stabbing at his eyes, and the slightest sound—the rustle of leaves, the whisper of wind—sent him into fits of panic. Every shadow held a threat.

Another day, and the terror bloomed. He was trapped inside himself, overwhelmed by a compulsion to run, to flee, though he didn’t know where. The burrow he had dug now felt like a tomb, its walls closing in, heavy with the scent of fear. His muscles twitched uncontrollably, and no amount of scratching could reach the itch deep in his bones. Food no longer mattered. His body was rebelling, and he didn’t know why .

Night blurred into day, time losing all meaning. The rabbit lashed out at invisible enemies, biting at the air, his movements jerky and wild. His throat tightened, and he couldn’t swallow. Each attempt brought a rising panic. Water, the thing he needed most, became something to fear. His body had turned against him, each nerve on fire, his mind unraveling into chaos.

The end was a storm of terror and confusion. Trapped inside his own skin, his limbs stiffened, and the world dissolved into a haze of pain and fear. He no longer recognized anything—friend, foe, or otherwise. Everything was a threat. Exhaustion weighed down his small frame as his muscles twitched uncontrollably. His eyes, once bright and alert, glazed over, dull and lifeless. He dragged himself from the burrow, collapsing in the open air.

“I’ll help you, sweet bunny,” a voice broke through the haze. The girl bent down, lifting the rabbit’s trembling body with gentle hands.

Then, a sharp gasp. “Ow, you bit me!” She pulled her hand back, watching the blood bead from the tiny wound. “But I forgive you,” she whispered.

The rabbit twitched, a final shudder as life slipped away. The virus surged with renewed energy.

Ah, at last... another host.

I slip in unnoticed, a quiet trespasser, creeping through the tiny break in her skin. She doesn’t feel me. Just a little prick, nothing to worry about. I spread, fast and quiet, sinking into her veins, riding her blood toward her nerves, inching ever closer to her brain. Soon, I will take control.

She will be mine.

Her body will bend to my will. Her bite will spread my legacy. Fear will follow her, an omen for my power. Her story will end, as they all do, but I will live on.

I am rabies.

I am unstoppable.