Authors: Amy Cross
Enda
Grabbing hold of her wrists, I make sure to get a nice firm grip and then I start pulling. She's heavier than I expected, and she's not exactly at an easy angle, but finally I manage to haul her out through the broken window. There's still plenty of glass left in the frame, and she crunches against some of it, but the main problem is her weight.
None of them have ever been this heavy before.
Suddenly my foot slips and I drop down against the tarmac. Slightly out of breath, I stare for a moment at the unconscious woman, her face barely visible in the moonlight. To be honest, I'm starting to think she's gonna be too hard to get back to the farm, but I figure I've gotten her this far so I have to keep going. I'm not the kinda person who ever gives up on a job. That's one of the lessons I learned from Pa.
I grab her wrists and start pulling again, straining with every sinew in my body until I manage to get her most of the way out. Her left leg catches on a piece of glass, which digs hard into her flesh. I have to pull really hard a couple more times, but finally the glass breaks and I'm able to keep dragging her out. My arms are burning with the effort, and it's hard to get my feet gripped on the road 'cause of all the glass everywhere, but finally -
I stop suddenly, seeing her huge, swollen belly.
South-east Kent, about five miles from the village of Wexham, England.
Letting go of her wrists, I step around and crouch down, taking a closer look. This woman has the biggest, roundest belly I could ever imagine on a person, like something's seriously wrong with her. I glance at her face to make sure she's still unconscious, and then I pull her shirt up to get a better look. Sure enough, the skin on her belly looks tight, like there's something pretty goddamn big in there. I place my hand on the flesh, feeling it for a moment and trying to figure out if she's got some kinda parasite, or if she's really sick and -
Suddenly something moves, kicking at me from inside the woman's belly. Falling back, I feel my heart racing as I start to realize that whatever's going on here, it's not something I've ever seen before. It's almost like... It seems crazy, and I think I might be crazy for thinking it, but it's almost like this woman's got something else alive inside her.
I can't imagine what could cause a woman's belly to get so big.
Enda
'Cause of her weight, it takes me longer than usual to get her moved, which means it's almost sunrise by the time I get her in place back at the farm.
Even while I'm securing her hands and wrists at the edges of the table, I can't help glancing at her belly and feeling suspicious. There's no way a human being should have part of their body that's so large. Part of me's really curious and wants to examine her closer, but part of me's scared and feels like I should keep a safe distance. After all, I remember one time using a scalpel to cut open the back of a spider, and all these wriggling little baby spiders came scurrying out. That kinda thing shouldn't happen to a human, but I know that every so often nature goes wrong. Maybe that's what's happened here. Maybe somehow she's gotten infected by something.
I wish I could ask someone, but I can't. Pa's no use, so I'll just have to figure it out by myself.
Lifting the woman's eyelids, I see that the black parts of her eyes are still really small. That always happens after I give the injection, and it'll be a while before they go normal and she starts waking up. Her pulse feels pretty normal, though, so I'm sure she
will
wake up eventually, although...
Glancing along at her swollen belly again, I can't help staring at the tight bowl of flesh. Finally I manage to push my fears aside and step closer, slipping the front of her shirt all the way up so I can place my hands on her. The flesh is so smooth, and as I make my way around the table I keep my hands on her belly, feeling the -
Suddenly I feel the kick again, and I step back.
My heart is pounding as I realize that although I should start stripping and cleaning this woman, I might be better advised right now to just slow down and take stock. Sure, things
look
bad and I think she might be very sick, but sometimes people get sick and then they get better again. I know enough to know I'm no expert on the human body.
Maybe this woman can still be my new sister. Maybe I've just got to make her better again. But first, there's one other person I've got to sort out. In fact, I can already hear him struggling in the back of the truck.
Enda
The woman wasn't alone in the car crash. There was a man too, but at least his body isn't so heavy as I drag him out the back of the truck and start hauling him across the mud.
Good job I'm strong.
The hardest part is the mud. My feet keep sinking into the boggy ground, and there's a light rain falling all around, which is only gonna make things worse. Still, keeping a firm grip on the man's arms, I manage to drag him all the way to the pen's gate, at which point I let go of him for a moment and head over to pull the lever. First, though, I peer through and see that the pigs are all lounging at the far end of the pen. Looks like they're enjoying the bad weather.
“I've got something for you,” I whisper, with a faint smile. “You're gonna eat real -”
Suddenly I hear a burst of spluttered coughs, and I turn to see that the man has woken up again. I guess I should've hit him harder just now. Even though the car crash left him all battered and gnarled, with pieces of broken bone poking out here, there and everywhere, it turns out he's got some fight in him. For a moment, all I can manage is to stare in shock as he rolls onto his side and lets out a series of faint, gurgled cries.
“Penny?” he gasps, reaching his hand through the mud and rain as if he doesn't know where he is. Well, sure, I mean
of course
he doesn't know where he is. He's not from around here.
“Who are you?” he whispers, turning to look up at me. “Where's my wife?”
I stay completely still, not sure yet how to respond.
“Where's my wife?” he asks again, wincing with pain as he turns and looks toward the farmhouse. “What the hell is this... Where am I?”
He pauses, before turning back to me.
“Who are you?”
I stare at him for a moment, before turning and pulling the lever that opens the pen's gate. My hands are trembling slightly, and I sure don't like it when people watch me work, but I figure I just need to get this part done.
“My wife is pregnant,” the man continues, his voice tense with pain. “Please, where is she? She's eight-and-a-half months pregnant, I have to make sure she's okay. Her name's Penny, and I'm Pete. Pete Latimer. Can you tell me where I am?”
After pulling the gate open, I make sure the pigs are still at the far end of the pen and then I turn, grabbing the man's feet and dragging him through.
He immediately cries out, and I don't blame him. I can hear the broken bones grinding inside his body, and fresh blood is leaking out from one of the wounds in his side. There are pieces of glass, too, glistening in thick, deep red cuts all over his neck and face. His screams continue to fill the air as I drag him through the mud and manure, but I let go of his feet once he's all the way inside.
Over my shoulder, I can hear the pigs getting up. They know a meal when they see one, and this guy is going to be a real feast.
“What are you doing?” the man shouts, trying but failing to get up. His legs are broken anyway, so it's not like he can get very far.
Stepping around him, I make my way back to the gate. After a couple of steps, however, the man suddenly grabs my left ankle, as if he's trying to hold me back.
Turning, I look at the three pigs and see that they're already headed this way. Their snouts are twitching, which means they've sensed the blood.
“Where am I?” the man asks, squeezing my ankle tight. “Where's my wife? Please, the last thing I remember is being in the car, we were driving to my parents' house and then... I think there was something across the road, something that burst the tires, and...”
His voice trails off as he stares at me, and then he turns to look at the pigs.
“What the fuck?” he stammers, as I slip my ankle free from his grip. “What the hell is this place? What are you doing to me?”
Stepping out of the pen, I swing the gate shut and take extra care to push the lever back in place. The last thing I want is the pigs getting out, especially when they're liable to be extra energetic after a good feed. Already, their squeaks and oinks are louder and more fervent, and when I look back into the pen I see that they're now sniffing the man all over, ignoring his attempts to push them away.
“What is this?” the man shouts. “Penny? Penny, are you here? Penny, help me! Penny, call the -”
Suddenly one of the pigs bites down on his leg, crushing the bone. The man lets out a horrific, ear-piercing scream, but I force myself to keep watching. It'd be so easy to run and hide, to cover my ears, but I personally don't think it's right to shield oneself from the darker, more difficult sights that can be seen in the natural world. If you can look at a sunrise and find it beautiful, you should also be able to watch a man getting eaten by pigs too. Nature isn't just about the pretty things.
“Help me!” he gurgles, as another of the pigs bites into his waist.
I see a surge of blood erupting from the wound, covering the side of the pig's face. I always like the sight of fresh blood mixing with mud. It makes the blood seem redder and the mud seem browner. And that's what I focus on, as the rain starts falling more steadily and as the man's cries get louder and louder. After a moment, however, I realize that I'm allowing myself to get distracted, that I'm finding excuses to not look directly at the man's body as the pigs tear him apart. Taking a deep breath, I turn and look at him, and I force myself to keep watching as chunks of flesh are ripped away, and as the pigs' excited grunts drown out the last of his screams.
After half an hour, there's really not much left of the man at all. Just a few chunks of bone that the pigs will finish off later. They never leave much behind.
Enda
With my hand pressed against the woman's swollen belly, I wait in case I feel the kicking sensation again. Sure enough, after just a minute or two, I feel something pressing against the inside of the belly wall. Whatever's in there, I'm sure it's alive.
Reaching a hand down onto my front, I try to puff my belly out, but I can't make it nearly as big as the woman's. I also can't feel anything alive in there, so after a moment I put both my hands back on her body and feel the kicks as they continue. This is, without a doubt, the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life.
Somehow, something alive has found its way inside her.
Enda
“You'll eat it,” I explain, placing the bowl of soup on the table next to Pa's chair. “You'll like it, too. Don't be stubborn, now. You're gonna like it, 'cause it's good. It's potato.”
I wait, but he's simply staring down at his lap, watching his own curled, gnarly fingers. He gets like this sometimes, all introspective and thoughtful. I know it must be hard for him, having once been the master of the farm but now reduced to a cripple. Still, it's not like anything can be done about it, so he just needs to get used to the situation.
“I'll let you get on with it,” I tell him. “I've got things to do.”
I turn and head to the door, but after a moment I stop and glance back at him It's been a long time since Pa's said anything much, and I've kinda accepted his silence, but right now I figure I need to ask him something. Pa's smart and he knows so much more about the world than I could ever hope to learn. He's always told me things he thinks I need to know, but now I need to know something else.
“I've got this woman downstairs,” I say finally, “and she's...”
I take a step back over to him, and then I grab an old cushion and shove it under the front of my dress, to make my belly look big.
“She's like this,” I continue, with a faint frown, “but it's
not
a cushion, it's like her belly is all swollen and big, and I think there's something moving in there. And I just... I don't know what's wrong with her. Is she sick?”
Pa doesn't answer. I know he can hear me, but he's still just staring down at his hands. Maybe he's remembering when they were strong and firm, and when he used to do all the work around here. I don't blame him for being sad that those days are gone, but at the same time I can't do much to help him. It's not my fault he got old.
“Is she sick, Pa?” I ask again. “Is she dying? She doesn't
seem
sick, not in the rest of her body, but there's sure something going on inside her.”
Looking down at the front of my dress, I run my hands over the bump. The pillow feels soft and spongy beneath the fabric, but the woman's bump is different. Before I came up to Pa, I spent a while with my ear placed right against the woman's flesh, and I heard all manner of weird noises from inside her body. I'm convinced there's something alive in there, and the idea makes me feel pretty weird. I mean, there's no way anyone should ever have anything else
inside
them.
“I thought about cutting her open,” I mutter after a moment, “but then I thought... I don't really know what I'm doing, and I might kill her, and I might destroy whatever's in her before I get a chance to understand it. I might not be smart, Pa, but I know when I don't know something. That's one of the most important things you ever taught me.” I pause, before reaching out and putting a hand under his chin and then gently raising his face. I want him to look at me. “Pa, why is the woman's belly -”
I gasp as soon as I see his eyes. They've shrunk even more, and now they're definitely too small for the sockets. It looks like his eyeballs are about two-thirds as big as they should be, which leaves them resting at the bottom of the sockets, with the pupils just able to see over the lower eye-lids. A few of his eyelashes seem to have curled inward, and they might even be growing into what's left of his eyeballs. I don't know what kind of disease would do that to him, but I'm pretty sure he's got to be in a lot of pain right now. There's a kind of clear liquid smeared all down his cheeks, not tears but something that's leaking from his eyes. I wish I could help him, but I don't even know where to start.
“Pa, what's going on with her?” I ask. “What could make a woman's belly get so...”
My voice trails off as I try to imagine why a belly would get so big. I might not have done much learning, but I'm not stupid and I feel like I know all the important things. I remember Brother once got a swollen elbow after he fell off the wall, and Pa said it was broken, but I don't think the woman from the car wreck has a broken belly. I think something else is going on with her, and I need to figure it out before I decide whether or not she can be my new sister.
“Can't you tell me, Pa?” I continue. “Don't
you
know?”
I wait, before finally realizing that he's in no fit state to help me at all.
“I'll figure it out myself, then,” I tell him, taking a step back. “I guess the days are gone when I could come to you with questions, but that's okay. I'll figure it out myself, just fine.”