“I want to go to the lake.”
Ada frowned.
“You hate the lake.”
Jennifer sighed, and stretched her arms.
“Usually, yeah. But the water seems so nice.”
They were on vacation. Out in nature, lots of fresh air, things they didn’t see back home. There was the lake, a two hour hike away, and the forest all around them. No electricity, no running water in the cabin. It wasn’t a popular vacation spot, so they really had the forest all to themselves. They’d gone to the lake on the first day, but Jennifer got nervous about swimming somewhere so deep and rocky. So they’d gone back home, and spent the next three days exploring the forest. It was on the fourth day when they made their discovery.
The pond had a strange quality to it, something almost man-made. At any rate, it seemed surprisingly well maintained, with fairly clear water and an even, pebbly floor. No one seemed to be around, so it may just have been the lack of human disturbance that allowed it to be so unsullied, but regardless it seemed a blessing. Here was their own personal swimming pool, not as deep or dangerous as the lake, calm and pretty, big enough to swim but small enough to see every side from any point. Upon wading in, they found that their feet just barely touched the bottom at the center. They spent several hours there. While Ada rested on the rocks, she was startled to alertness by a sudden yelp from Jennifer.
“What is it?”
Jennifer coughed violently, then caught her breath and responded.
“Nothing...I just stepped on a sharp rock. It made me lose my balance. I’m fine but I swallowed a bunch of water.”
Ada frowned.
“That’s not good. We don’t know what’s in there.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. At worst, I just ate a bug. Oh god...eww, that is the worst.”
Ada held out her hand and helped Jennifer out of the water. She was worried at first, but that evening Jennifer still seemed perfectly fine, no traces of illness or infection. She fell asleep that night and by the next morning had forgotten it ever happened.
But two days later, Jennifer began to complain of a stomach ache. She had been eating a good amount of sweets and energy bars that they had packed, favoring those over the more healthier meals, so both of them just assumed this was the culprit. But she tried to eat better for the next couple days after that, and nothing improved. In fact, the pain became worse and worse to the point where she could no longer stand without doubling over. Ada asked whether it could be menstrual cramps, but Jennifer shook her head, and said in a strained voice that this felt different. This wasn’t an aching pain in her abdomen, this was a tearing feeling through her whole torso, as though her organs were being turned to soup. Ada tried to call her mother on the emergency phone they’d brought, but to her dismay she found it wouldn’t turn on. Whether it was out of battery or had become damaged, she didn’t know, but the result was the same: there was no way to call for help. She considered going to the lake on her own to see if there was anyone else there who could let them borrow a phone, but couldn’t bring herself to leave Jennifer alone for hours just for that small chance. She decided to wait until the next morning; if it got worse, she would go, if things improved, she would wait.
And things did improve. The next morning, Jennifer said she felt perfectly fine. She laughed, saying that her body probably just wasn’t used to the fresh air and nature. Ada could not laugh, though. After the ordeal she’d endured the past four days, the forest had lost its charm. It had been nothing compared to what Jennifer had been through, of course, but she had begun to feel bitterly stupid for how they had followed some lofty ideal of “getting away from the city” without fully understand the dangers of such isolation. She didn’t know anything about this forest. Jennifer knew even less, at least Ada was a biology student. She could explain how photosynthesis worked, or what DNA was made from, but if one of them had been bitten by a snake or broken a bone, she wouldn’t have had the faintest clue what to do.
It was later that day that Jennifer told her she wanted to go to the lake. Ada told her that she wasn’t sure it was safe. If the pain returned and Jennifer became unable to move again, she could drown. She suggested they go back to the pond, but Jennifer insisted it had to be the lake. When Ada asked why, she had no reasonable response. Ada eventually had to put her foot down and say they couldn’t go that day. Jennifer reluctantly accepted, but insisted they go the next day. Ada assumed this strange whim would have passed by then, and did not say no.
As they sat in folding chairs outside the cabin, Ada watched a beetle slowly make its way through the grass. Jennifer glanced over and made a face of disgust.
“There are too many bugs out here.”
“It is a forest.”
“Still, it’s gross. Why do there have to be so many?”
“You have no idea. There are more beetles than pretty much anything else on the planet. Like three hundred fifty thousand different species.”
“Seriously?!”
“Yeah, the largest group on earth...unless you define group a little differently, and include relationship types.”
“Huh?”
“Like...predators, mutualists, and so on. In that case, the largest group in the world is parasites.”
“Like tapeworms and stuff?”
“No...well, yes, tapeworms are parasites. But other things are too. Mosquitos, viruses, hairworms, and so on.”
“Hairworms? Are those like lice?”
“No, though lice are parasites too. Hairworms are these long worm things that get inside of crickets, hollow them out, live inside them, then make them find water.”
“Water?”
“Yeah, the crickets will find water, then when they’re in it, the hairworm comes out of them with all the larva and stuff.”
“How do they know to do that?”
“The hairworms or the crickets?”
“The crickets.”
“Well, the hairworm releases chemicals that affect the cricket’s brain, and compel it to go to water. I don’t think the cricket actually seeks out water, though, I think it just walks until it finds some. It’s just a cricket, after all. It doesn’t really think. If the host was more intelligent, if they could actually find the best water, the hairworms would probably be a lot more efficient.”
“What do you mean, the best water?”
“Think about it. Let’s say the host was a deer. If they die in a swimming pool or something, because they just wander into it, no other deer are going to drink that water or even go in it. It would just end up disposed of. But if the deer could think about it to some degree, if the hairworm’s instincts worked in tandem with the deer’s relative intelligence, they could go straight to the best water source. Every other deer nearby would end up drinking it.”
“That’s a scary thought…”
“Right?”
That night, as they were getting ready for bed, something caught Ada’s eye. It was only momentary, so brief she doubted she had even seen it, and so said nothing. But while Jennifer was changing, her stomach seemed to move, a rippling of the skin like something was moving underneath. She wondered to herself if Jennifer was really still sick, and if she should seek help after all. But then it was gone, and she was able to blame it on the shifting light.
As they lay in their beds, from across the room, Jennifer whispered,
“Don’t forget, we’re going to the lake tomorrow. You promised.”
In the morning, Jennifer was different. She didn’t complain about pain- she didn’t complain about anything. She was usually the early riser, but slept until one in the afternoon. When she woke, she just lay there, unmoving, staring at the ceiling. When Ada spoke or shook her, her eyes moved, but she did not speak. Ada ran outside, determined now to go to the lake on the off chance she could find help, but before she could leave she heard the sound of someone walking towards her.
A moment of panic, the obligatory fear of strangers, gripped her for a moment, but she decided she would accept whatever kind of help she could get. To her surprise, though, it was not a stranger. It was someone she knew, if not very well- Jennifer’s boyfriend, Francis. He looked worried, but relaxed when he saw her outside and lifted his hand to wave. Then he saw the look on her face, and tensed up again.
She explained what had happened as quickly as she could- the stomachache, the recovery, and then what happened today- then pulled him inside. Francis dropped his backpack at the foot of Jennifer’s bed, then ran to her side. He felt her forehead and called her name, but there was nothing. She still wouldn’t react, wouldn’t give the slightest sign of life beyond the shallow, faint breaths of someone whose lungs are constricted, and the darting movements of her eyes. While he spoke to her, Ada tried one more time to turn on the cell phone she had brought, but to no avail. She set it down on Jennifer’s bedside table, then tapped on Francis’s shoulder and motioned for him to stand up. Not wanting to frighten her, if she could even hear them, they went to the other room and spoke in hushed voices.
“We need to get her to a hospital right away.”
“Why didn’t you take her before, when she was in so much pain?!”
“I told you, I couldn’t! We have no phone and no car. I can’t carry her all the way home.”
“My car is parked at the edge of the forest, about three miles east of here. If we can carry her that far, I can drive her to the nearest emergency room. We could also just call for help now, my phone is in my bag.”
“Let’s do that. We can ask them-“
Ada looked up and frowned.
“What is it?”
“I thought I heard something- like a crunching sound. Never mind, though. I don’t hear anything now, it must have just been a bug, or an animal outside. Anyway, we should call 911. We can ask them what would be the best option. I doubt they could land a helicopter here or anything, so we might end up having to carry her after all. At the very least, though, maybe they can help explain what happened to her.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
As they stood up to go retrieve his bag from the other room, Francis hesitated.
“I’m sorry for what I said.”
“What?”
“You did everything you could, it must have been really scary for you. I didn’t mean to blame you, I’m just worried.”
“It’s fine. As long as Jennifer is okay, none of it will matter.”
“Do you really have no idea what could have caused it?”
“I...I do have one thought, but I don’t have any evidence to back it up. A couple days ago, we went swimming in this little pond we found in the woods. I only waded in a bit then got out, but Jennifer hurt herself on a rock and was submerged. It was only for a second, but she said she swallowed some of the water. Whatever was in that could be causing this.”
“What, like a parasite or something?”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“They can treat those, though, right?”
“Yes...if they know what kind it is.”
She paused, then said,
“We should call now.”
They pushed open the partially ajar door, then hurried into Jennifer’s room to retrieve the phone.
And found her bed empty.
“Where is she?!”
The question was not directed at Ada, but more at the empty bed itself.
Francis was panicking, ready to run outside.
“Someone must have come in and taken her while she was defenseless!”
Ada shook her head.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“She left on her own.”
“How do you know that?!”
Ada pointed to the floor.
“The phone.”
On the floor next to the bed was what could only be Francis’s cell phone, smashed to pieces. It looked as if someone had stepped on it forcefully.
“Someone who took her could have done that, so we couldn’t call the police.”
“But there’s a phone right there on the bedside table, untouched. Wouldn’t they have smashed that phone instead, or at least as well? I doubt they could have taken the time to verify that it was definitely broken. The only people who knew that were you, me, and Jennifer.”
“So she just got up and walked away? “Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know. But it seems like she didn’t want us calling for help, so maybe she didn’t want us to be able to take her to your car either.”
“We have to get help. We have no idea where she’s going, so maybe we should just run to the car and drive to the nearest place with a phone. It isn’t perfect, but I don’t know what else we can do.”
Ada nodded, and started to head towards the front door. Then she stopped, and turned back.
“Actually...I might know where she’s going.”
“Where?!”
“The lake.”
“What? Why would she go there?”
“Yesterday, she kept asking if we could go. I said no because I was worried about her still being sick, but I told her we could go today.”
“Why did she want to go? She hates the lake, the beach, all of those things.”
“That’s why it was so strange...and that’s why I think it’s worth heading that way.”
Francis still seemed doubtful, but he followed her as she ran towards the lake path. It was a tiny track of slightly trampled-down grass and twigs, weaving around the trees. Impossible to run through, they were forced to walk carefully and painfully slowly for some time before the path fed into the larger lake trail. This one was more well defined, a dirt trail about three and a half miles long leading directly to the lake. Ordinarily it would take close to two hours to complete the hike, but Ada and Francis sprinted as long and as often as they could, jogging in between, and fifteen minutes later they were nearly halfway. Stopping to catch their breath, Francis glared at Ada.
“She isn’t here! She was sick, she couldn’t have been going very fast. If she’d gone this way, we should have caught up to her by now.”
“We thought she was sick, but she was well enough to hear you say your phone was in your backpack, find it, break it, then leave without us hearing. She went this way, I’m sure of it.”
They started moving again, walking quickly, too exhausted to run just yet. At their slower pace, Ada was able to pay more attention to their surroundings. About a quarter mile later, she notices something in the dirt. She crouched down to look.
Francis stopped and doubled back to stand near her.
“What are you doing? Don’t waste time.”
Ada pointed to something in the dirt.
“What does this look like to you?”
Francis crouched down to examine it. His expression grew dark.
“...blood.”
It was only a few drops, but it was there. Ada stood and walked forward until she found another cluster of blood droplets on the dusty ground a few feet ahead. It was as though they had fallen from something walking in that direction, shaken loose every few steps by the movement of footfalls.
Francis did not question Ada’s choice again. They ran in silence, following the sparse trail of blood.
Comments (0)
See all