They were nearly within sight of the lake when they caught up with her. She was moving quickly, not quite running but at a speed that suggested she was in a hurry. The closer they got, the more her movements seemed somehow wrong. It was as though she had forgotten how to walk, and was being dragged forward. Like some grotesque marionette, her legs would jerk forward one at a time, the rest of her body following. The drops of blood left in her wake were becoming more frequent and heavier. When they finally reached her position, Ada reached out to grab her shoulder, but found herself pulling back her hand. A sense of revulsion had gripped her, as though something in her mind didn’t want her to touch Jennifer. As she stepped back, she wondered if Jennifer’s sickness could be contagious.
Francis did not seem bothered by this, and grabbed Jennifer by the arm, forcing her to turn. When Ada saw her face, she was immediately glad she didn’t touch her, though she felt guilty for the thought. Blood ran from Jennifer’s nose down over her lips and chin, her eyes bulged from their sockets with fluid leaking from the corners, and her neck was swollen. She stared blankly at Francis for a moment, then attempted to turn back. When he stopped her, she abruptly thrust out her arm, hitting him in the chest and sending him stumbling backwards. He hit the ground, hard, and yelled out in pain. Ada moved immediately to help him up, but by the time he was standing, Jennifer was already walking again, moving as quickly as her unnatural movements could carry her. Blood was dripping from a gash on Francis’s hand where it had hit a rock when he fell, but he ignored it and continued to chase after Jennifer. Ada followed closely behind.
Though they ran, she reached the end of the path before them. Ahead, a stretch of rocks sloped slightly downward before disappearing into the edge of the water. The lake was small, only about a thousand feet across, but the water became deep very quickly. Jennifer stood for a moment on a wide, flat rock, overlooking the water. The bright sun seemed wrong for such a gruesome sight as her unsteady silhouette with its swollen limbs. Another family was playing in the water nearby. Two young children splashed in the shallows, and one more paddled a little further out. The parents sat in the sun and watched them, a blanket spread out beneath them. At the sound of Francis shouting Jennifer’s name, they looked over, but did not seem to react. They were probably too far away to see the blood, close enough only to perhaps sense some vague unnaturalness about her figure.
After a moment standing still, Jennifer moved. She lifted her shirt over her head and flung it to the side. As she removed her clothes, Ada remembered what she had seen the night before. It had been no trick of the light.
Her abdomen was swollen, not bloated by gas or water but stretched tight by something inside, The surface of her skin was not smooth, but ridged, as though something long and ropelike was coiled within. As the skin was bared, they saw that this strangeness continued down her legs and arms, up to her chin. She was like a scarecrow stuffed full to near bursting, empty of everything but this mass.
The children in the water were not looking her way, but the parents were standing now, staring in horror. Even at a distance it was obvious something was terribly wrong, something that shouldn’t even be possible. They watched, all of them, as she began to walk towards the water. As she moved, the shapes beneath her flesh shifted and surged. It seemed that they moved forward on their own, carrying what was left of her body with them.
It was only when she entered the water that the woman standing with the family, the mother, broke from her shock and screamed at her children to get out. Confused, the two in the shallows headed to shore, but the other one, looking up at the sound, had seen Jennifer and stood still, watching. The mother ran into the water towards him, yelling for him to come, but before he could move, Jennifer began to shake.
The water, which reached her chest, began to roil. Something crested the water, a twisting shape , wriggling and thrashing like an earthworm burrowing into the dirt. It went on and on, a wormlike creature already three times the length of a human body. As it exited, her arms collapsed, empty and deflated, and then her chest, and then her neck. When the tip of the tail appeared, her hollow skin crumpled into the water, then drifted to the surface, flat and deserted, with only her head still holding any shape. The worm writhed and flailed, then disappeared into the deep water.
It was only then that Ada realized Francis was gone from her side. He had run down the rocky bank, waded into the water towards what was left of Jennifer. He clutched the skin in his hands, carrying it towards the shore. A ways away, the mother was pulling her child out of the lake by the arm, as he refused to move on his own. The woman stumbled and fell, dragging the child down with her. Both disappeared under the water for a moment, before she reemerged and picked him up, throwing him over her shoulder and carrying him onto dry land. He was coughing but unharmed, though he seemed to be trembling in fear. On the rocks, the father was shouting into a cell phone. Ada stood silent as Francis emerged from the water with Jennifer’s water-soaked skin draped over his arms, as the sound of a helicopter filled the sky, as she was taken to the hospital, given a sedative and left to rest. She didn’t say a word.
There was so little they could learn about it. There were five witnesses- the younger children had not seen anything- but not one of them could really describe what had happened. One of them refused to even speak. They searched for this “worm” everyone described, but no sign of it was found. All the evidence remaining was a pile of waterlogged skin, a malformed head, and the testimony of several traumatized people. With only this, all they could label it as was a freak accident, an unprecedented disaster, but only for one individual. So, with that, they treated the wound on Francis’s hand, checked the others for injury, then gave up trying to learn anything more for the time being, until proper tests could be done.
Ada said nothing of her theories or worries. She sat obstinately until they let her go home. They thought she must be deeply scarred by the experience. Which was true, certainly, but there were more pressing things on her mind than fear or trauma. Before she left, she exchanged phone numbers with Francis, and told him to call if he needed to talk. When she got home, she sat on her bed and waited. Three days later, she got the call.
“Hey, Ada…”
“Francis.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call before. This must be hard for you too.”
“It’s okay. How are you feeling?”
“I mean...I don’t know quite how to answer that. How could I possibly be okay?”
“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. But, how about physically? Is your health fine?”
“Fine enough. I feel sick when I think about it. I’m so exhausted, and my stomach hurts. But I think that’s all to be expected. How about you?”
“I’m tired, and my head hurts. My stomach feels normal, though. Let me know if your stomach ache gets any worse.”
“I will. So…”
Francis tried to talk to her, to continue the conversation, but she was distant, detached. Before long he gave up, and told her that he’d call again soon, and he hoped she felt better soon.
Another call came the next day. His voice sounded strained, weak. He told her the stomach ache had gotten worse, that he couldn’t even move from his bed. He lived alone, so there was no one else who knew. He asked her if she could take him to the hospital. She grabbed her bag, but before she could leave he called again. His voice sounded calmer this time.
“You know what? Never mind, don’t worry about it. I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“Are you sure? I can at least come over and check on you. It’s only a twenty minute walk.”
“No, no, I wouldn’t want to trouble you. Right after I hung up, it started feeling a little better. I think I can just wait it out.”
“Okay…”
Ada paused for a moment.
“Francis, how bad was that cut on your hand?”
“From when I fell? It was pretty bad, it was bleeding a lot. It was treated at the hospital though. It’s fine now, don’t worry. It didn’t get infected or anything.”
“...got it. Call me again tomorrow.”
As she sat quietly in her bed, the lights in her room off, she heard a quiet knock on her door.
“Come in.”
Timidly, as though he didn’t want to frighten her, her brother entered. He was carrying a plate of food. He brought it to her bedside table and set it down, then turned to leave. He stopped, though, and stood there for a moment, his back to Ada. She could tell he wanted to speak, but was nervous to do so.
Owen was only ten, he had known Jennifer since he was born. She’d been coming to their house for thirteen years now, since she and Ada were only five, so she had been a familiar part of his life. All he knew now was that she was gone, and that his big sister had seen her die. He didn’t know how it had happened and he didn’t understand why. It was obvious that he wanted to ask but didn’t want to upset Ada.
“She got sick.”
“...how?”
“We don’t know, exactly.”
“Was it scary?”
“...yeah, it was. It still is.”
“Isn’t it over?”
“I don’t think it is.”
“Are you sick too?!”
She saw his expression of panic and pulled him over to sit next to her. Putting her arms around him and holding him tightly, she whispered,
“No, I’m not sick. I hope no one is anymore.”
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