It’s not black. It’s red.
A sob gets stuck in my throat. I don’t know if the blood is from the car or that black crap, but either way it’s bad. This is so, so bad.
This time the sob makes it out of my mouth just fine.
“I’m so sorry,” Ellis says. “I shouldn’t have been going so fast. I was rushing.”
“It’s not just the car. She got something on her. It was this black… gunk. I was cleaning it off when I got scared and we ran. I thought…”
Remembering the thing in the trees makes my stomach flip.
“What?” Ellis asks when I look to the tree line.
I don’t see anything. I don’t hear anything. That doesn’t stop the persistent feeling that if I reach my hand out, I’ll touch it. Whateveritis.
“It’s unfortunate.” He speaks slowly, carefully. “But illegal dumping is common out here. Some of it is extremely toxic. In combination with something internal from the car…”
What we found in that hollow didn’t feel like a by-product of industry. How it felt, how itsmelled, was of decomposition and rich, dark dirt.
Regardless of what it is or where it came from, we need to leave.
I tell him so and he says, “No kidding. We need to get you to a hospital.”
We’re going to an emergency vet first. That discussion can wait until we’re back on asphalt. I indulge in feeling Ripley breathe under my hand, then let Ellis help me back into the car.
“Why are you here?” I ask.
He reaches over me to buckle my belt. Before, this would have been thrilling. Now, I’m just tired.
“You never called. I tried your cell but it didn’t ring. The property owner has a trail camera on the gate. I asked him to check and he said your truck was still there. It was a slow day.” He shrugs. “I thought I’d drive down to my cabin in Hocking Hills for the weekend. Decided to pop over to check on you on the way. Hit you with my car instead. I’ll probably have to throw my ‘#1 boss’ mug away when I get back to the office, huh?”
“I’ll buy you another one if you can get us out of here. I tried to leave, but my truck wouldn’t start. And then… everything just kept getting worse.”
“You are having a rough day.” Ellis squeezes my knee. “Hey, want to drive?”
He jangles the keys in the air. He laughs at whatever face I’m making. “Joking. Extremely joking. You shouldn’t be walking, much less driving.”
It’s a terrible joke, but it does make me choke out a watery laugh.
“Lou.” His face is serious, and then he’s cupping my cheek. He leans in close and meets my eyes. “You have done so well. I should have never sent someone down here alone. This is my fault, not yours. I’ve got it from here. I’ve gotyou.”
The words don’t process. My brain literally can’t make the idea of someonehaving mecompute. Sometimes, when things are very bad, I’ll daydream about an alternate life where the moment I turned eighteen I got on a bus and never looked back. My mom doesn’t call. I don’t have a dog. Not even a houseplant. The only weight I’m carrying is my own.
Reality floods in every time.
Maybe I’m not a woman, but Iama daughter, and being a daughter is its own horror story. The walls are splattered with blood and guilt and righteous anger and, most important, love. Horror is nothing without love. The weight of it stoops my back until I’m curled in on myself like some fucked-up fiddlehead fern.
Something I’ve never been proud of and that feels almostimpossible to admit is that, honestly, I don’t want to be strong enough to carry my weight and someone else’s. I want to be rescued.
“You’re safe now. I’ll keep you safe. Okay?”
He shuts the door and moves around to the driver’s side. Relief is instant the moment the car gets going.
“How’d you know where I was?” I ask.
“I didn’t. This is the only other road near the property. Figured I might as well check.”
The rearview mirror shows Ripley lying on the back seat. If I focus, I can see her breathing. Ellis is such a pack rat. There’s junk everywhere. We go over a particularly large pothole. The pile he must have shoved over to fit her on the seat shifts.
