by Joseph Souza
“Come on, let’s go out there and see for ourselves.”
He reached in the gun locker, pulled out another rifle, and handed it to me.
“Take this just in case there are any more dogs out there.”
I took the rifle and followed him to the back door. Thousands of birds milled about in the sky, changing formations and careening back and forth. I didn’t want to ascribe our plight to the supernatural, but what else was there? I felt hopeless about our situation and somehow couldn’t resist the feeling that the end of times was near.
We headed towards the barn. A fierce wind kicked dirt up in our path. Blades of grass swayed in the pasture, and the field seemed to take on a life of its own, changing colors and absorbing the sun’s light in an odd manner.
The caterwauling got louder as we approached the barn. It sent chills down my spine. I looked up and watched as the abstract bird formations kept switch-backing and changing direction. What were they doing? The closer we got to the barn, the louder the cows’ cries resonated in our ears. It sounded as if the entire herd had come back to life.
Rick reached the door first and opened it with one pull. Light poured in and illuminated the inside. Hay flew up in the gusts and swirled around in tight spirals. The rank odor hit me first, a horrific mixture of decay and death. I retched into a pile of hay near the far wall. Just below me, I noticed the mauled, bloody chick pecking at the side of my shoe. I kicked it away in horror and stood back. The chick wobbled for a minute before wandering around the corner of the barn and disappearing from sight. When I looked back up, I saw Rick walking down the main aisle and staring in stunned silence at all the cows.
I picked up the rifle and ran after him. The cows were kicking and jumping around in their stalls, trying to free themselves from the narrow confines. Their eyes were not quite black, but more a grayish tint that made them look frighteningly surreal. I walked behind Rick, staring at the abstract blood patterns that had been splattered across the floor and wood slats. Every single one of them had the same bullet hole above their eyes.
“There has to be an explanation,” Rick whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You shot them,” I said. “The only explanation is that they came back to life.”
He turned and looked at me. “Are you kidding me, Thom? I spent over twenty years studying microbiology. That includes studying cellular structure as well as having performed countless autopsies on both animals and humans. I think I know a dead animal when I see one.” He returned his attention back to the cows.
“What else could it be, then?”
“Don’t talk like a damn fool. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” he shouted, gripping the rifle. “I’m telling you right now, there’s a reasonable explanation for why this is happening.”
“Give me just one.”
“I can’t right now. But I will.”
We continued down aisle after aisle, staring at all the distressed livestock struggling to be free from their enclosures. Wads of bloody, pink foam bubbled from their mouths, noses and ears. They kicked back against the wooden pens and glared at us.
Suddenly we heard loud squeals coming from outside the barn. We rushed out and saw that the pigs had started digging frantically in the mud and attacking each other with their bared teeth.
“Please tell me that you didn’t put them down, too?”
He turned and gave me a look. Yes, he’d slaughtered all the pigs in addition to the cows.
“If those pigs break loose from that pen, they’ll wreak havoc everywhere,” he said. “I’m going back into the barn and finish off the job. You head over to the pen and put a bullet in each and every one of their goddamn skulls. Stay far enough away, Thom, so that you don’t get bitten. It appears that all the farm animals have come down with the virus. It’s rare when it happens, but if that’s the case, then we’ll need to barricade ourselves inside the house until it burns out.”
“Jesus, Rick, what are you going to do about Susan?”
“Like I said, it’s rare that a virus of this type has the same effect on humans. But just in case, I loaded her to the gills with anti-virals. She should be fine once it works its way into her system. Now go finish those sows off.”
The thought of slaughtering those pigs filled me with dread, but I knew that I had no other choice. I’d never shot a living thing before, and my hands were shaking. I was going to kill a living thing merely to put it out of its misery, not for nourishment. Their death was to safeguard us from disease.
Rick fired the first shot, and the dead animal collapsed to the floor in a heap. By the time I reached the pen, my hands were noticeably trembling. I lifted the rifle to my shoulder and pointed it at the first pig charging towards me. Its head collided angrily against the rail. Its snout protruded through the opening and blew out a spray of saliva that flew up in my face. Terrified, I wiped it away with the back of my sleeve and staggered backward, fearful that I’d been infected. I raised the weapon and pointed it down at the pig. Its eyes flared and widened as it snarled, and its hind legs kicked mud up behind it and onto the surrounding pigs. I pulled the trigger and fired. The bullet struck it in the shoulder, but the wound only seemed to embolden it. I stared in shock, noticing that not a drop of blood spilled from it. It was as if this pig was made of stuffing, like one of the toy animals Dar kept on the shelves of her bedroom. I lifted the gun and aimed again, this time nailing it between the eyes. It collapsed instantly and fell back into the mud. I went around and methodically shot each pig in the face. When the deed had been completed, I stood staring at all the carcasses, feeling strangely aroused by what I had just done, and almost drunk with raw power. It gave me such a high that it filled my entire being with a primal emotion that made me feel invincible.
Rick was closing the barn doors by the time I made my way back. Above us, the skies looked ominous, filled with so many birds that they blocked out much of the sun. We went back inside and settled in the dining room. After a few minutes passed, Rick went upstairs to check on Susan. I went into the living room and knelt down next to Dar, who was still asleep. I placed the back of my hand on her forehead. Thankfully, it felt cool to the touch. Better to let her sleep, I thought. I went into the kitchen, made another pot of coffee, and returned to the dining room with fresh cups for both Rick and myself.
“How’s Susan?” I asked when he came back down.
“Still sleeping. Her fever hasn’t yet broken, which concerns me, but overall I think it’s a good sign that it hasn’t gotten worse. I’m convinced that she’ll come out of it, especially considering all the anti-virals I gave her.”
“Dar’s still sleeping, and thankfully, she doesn’t have a fever.” I sipped the hot coffee. “Now that Susan seems to be doing better, I think I should be heading back to Boston once Dar wakes up.”
“Might want to wait another day, Thom. If this thing is spreading—and I’m not saying it is—it’ll certainly be worse down there. Best thing to do is to give it twenty-four hours and see what happens. At the very least, drive down to the general store and call your wife, and see if she and Stephen are okay.”
“I doubt they’re having any problems down in Boston. Ever seen any cows grazing in the Commons?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Still, you can’t be too careful.”
He removed a clear plastic bag from his jacket and tossed it on the table. I stared at it, trying to make out what was inside it. It looked to be a piece of leather.
“It’s an ear from one of the dead cows.”
I stared at in revulsion, wondering what he was doing with a cow’s ear.
“I’m going to take it down to my lab and examine it, and try to determine the cause of this outbreak.”
“You have a lab downstairs? I thought you were coming up here to shovel shit and forget about the rest of humanity?”
“Yeah, well, I lied.”
I’d always been secretly scornful of his decision to leave academia a
nd New York City in order to move up to Maine. It seemed a rebuke of my own lifestyle, a slap in the face for all the decisions that I’d made by choosing to live in Boston. But I never admitted this to him.
“Let’s just say that I like to keep abreast of the latest innovations in the field, especially after having studied genetics all those years.” He stared at me, as if wanting to admit something else but afraid to.
“What is it, Rick?”
“I might as well tell you now, Thom. The crops I raise up here are not your garden variety. They’re a direct result of the research I’ve been doing in DNA.”
“You mean you’ve tinkered with their genes?”
“Of course I did, and it happens all the time in agriculture. It’s no big deal, Thom. Just by changing a few sequences of DNA, I was able to make these plants more resistant to Maine’s winter. I was also able to create produce that was both tastier and more efficient to grow. It’s an important part of nature, and a technology that’s here to stay.” He stared at me. “You tasted the corn and squash we had for dinner last night. What did you think?”
“They were delicious, but that’s more a testament to Susan’s cooking than your Frankenfood.”
Rick laughed and stuffed the ear back in his pocket.
“Don’t you think you’re playing with fire by messing with Mother Nature?”
“Wake up, Thom. It’s being done all the time these days in corporate agriculture. The only difference is that they have few ethical standards when it comes to these matters. With them, it’s all about the dollar, volume, and boosting the stock price. I farm with care and integrity and with no financial motive other than to make a living. Besides, it’s just Mendel experimenting with his peas all over again, mixing the genes to create a stronger hybrid.”
“You’re messing with the environment, Rick, and that worries me.”
“What the hell do you know about the environment, Thom? You complain all the time about environmental degradation and global warming, and yet you sit on your ass writing books. What if I told you I had the ability to create a plant that doesn’t require pesticides and can grow in all different climates? And what if I told you that because of my tinkering we could feed the world many times over, thereby reducing the carbon footprint required to transport crops from one place to another? Would you tell me to go to hell then?”
“Probably not. But it still sounds scary.”
“Anything does when you’re not familiar with the technology.”
Dar stumbled into the dining room and sat in the chair next to me. She looked tired, almost stoned, and I attributed it to the shock waves still coursing through her fragile mind.
“How you doing, kiddo?” I put my hand over hers.
“I just want to go home really bad, Dad.”
“Your Aunt Susan isn’t feeling well. I just want to make sure she’s okay before we head out.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“I think the situation has stressed her out,” Rick said.
“She doesn’t have what all those animals have, does she?”
“No, she’s fine. Your aunt Susan just needs a little rest.”
“What do you think, Rick? We can stay and help you out with Susan if you like.”
“Nah, I think you’re good to go home. We should be fine now. Besides, there’s not much we can do for Susan at the moment, except let her rest and make sure she’s well hydrated. Hell, I can do all that. I’ve got plenty of medicine and Tylenol. Pays to be prepared.”
“Okay, Dar, let’s go home. Our bags are still outside.”
“Can I go upstairs and say goodbye to Susan before we leave.”
“That okay, Rick?” I asked.
“That should be fine. Just don’t get too close to her, okay? I don’t want you catching any of this crud going around.”
“All I’m going to do is to sit with her for a few minutes and make sure she’s all right.”
“Yeah, that should be fine,” Rick said.
Susan had always been Dar’s favorite aunt. When she was a young girl, she used to spend a week in New York City with Rick and Susan every summer. Susan would take the week off from her law firm and take Dar to all the museums and parks, and then they would stroll around Central Park eating hot dogs and watching the street performers. The two of them developed a close bond during those visits, and it was one of the reasons Dar used to want to come and spend time with them at the farm.
I desperately wanted to get on the road and drive the hell out of here. As much as this situation terrified me, I pushed it to the back of my mind and accepted Rick’s explanation for what had happened. My brain couldn’t begin to process the horrors we’d seen, nor could it explain this perverted reversal of life that had taken place. My mind began to play tricks on me. For a brief moment, it crossed my mind that my brother’s genetic dabbling was somehow responsible for these freakish events. But Rick had a PhD in biological engineering from MIT and had taught the subject for many years in New York City. If he didn’t know what he was doing, then no one did.
His reasons for leaving the academic world had always been a mystery to me. I found it difficult to believe that he’d just decided to pick up one day and leave his challenging and respected position behind in order to farm vegetables in the hills of Maine. I rarely brought it up in his presence, as it seemed like a sore subject. I accepted his desire for independence and self-reliance for what it was. It had been his choice to make. He’d long ago earned tenure at the university and was held in high esteem in his field. The only way he could have been removed from that position was if he’d committed some egregious crime.
“Take this rifle with you, Thom, just in case. You never know if you might run into another pack of dogs.”
“The wife will kill me if she sees me with a gun,” I said, laughing. “She’s planning a petition to absolve the Second Amendment.”
“Good luck to her and the army of her choosing, trying to get these guns out my hands. You just tell that wife of yours that owning a gun is our God-given, constitutional right.”
“You know Margaret, Rick. She’d hand me my divorce papers if I ever said such a thing.”
“Always was a bleeding heart liberal, that girl. Too bad.”
“That’s what happens when you grow up in Brookline and then matriculate at Smith College. She’ll be a bleeding heart liberal till the day she dies.” I snatched the rifle out of his hands.
“These college professors love nothing more than to brainwash their students, turning them into liberal zombies. And I should know, having taught with these pretentious assholes my entire career.”
Just then, a vehicle roared into the driveway and screeched to a stop. Rick and I rushed over to the window to see who it was and watched a young man get out of the driver’s side door. He ran around and opened the passenger side and helped a child and a woman holding an infant get out. He seemed nervous and in a great rush. As he closed the door, I saw a terrifying sight out of the corner of my eye. The three dogs Rick had shot earlier stood between the family and the house. They growled menacingly and hunched their backs. The man held out his arm and told his wife and kids to remain perfectly still. One false move and the dogs would rip them to shreds.
“Christ!” Rick said, grabbing his rifle and heading towards the door. The second he opened it, the three dogs turned their heads and glanced back at him. Each of them had an oozing black hole in their skull. “You going to come out here and help me, Thom, or what?”
I followed outside, praying that my shot would be accurate. The dogs hesitated for a moment, glancing between the family and ourselves, as if debating which of us to attack first. Rick raised the rifle, and as soon as he did, the mangy mutt turned on his heels and charged. I shouldered the rifle and took aim, watching as the black lab followed behind it. Rick fired a shot and dropped the first dog. I aimed and fired a split-second later and put a bullet in the black lab’s head. When I looked back down, I saw the mangy m
utt lying motionless on the ground—again.
Buster turned and charged towards the family. Rick and I raised our weapons, but we were too far away to be accurate; we might accidentally hit one of the kids if we fired. Buster, bloodied and caked with dirt, headed straight towards the older girl. The girl’s father threw himself in front of his daughter at the last second and wrestled the dog to the ground, holding him by the scruff of his neck. The dog snapped its jaw inches above his throat and reversed positions, standing on top of his chest. I pointed the rifle at Buster and fired into the dog’s ribcage, but it had no effect because Buster kept attacking, single-minded. The children cried out in horror, scared to leave their mother’s side. She kicked the dog’s underbelly, but it did little to deter it.
“Have to shoot it in the head!” the man shouted, holding Buster at bay. “These things ain’t alive. They’re goddamn dead or some shit. Put a bullet in his skull.”
“Okay, buddy, hold tight!”
Rick pulled out his Glock and positioned himself next to the man. The dog snarled and looked over at Rick with a newfound hatred. He jumped off the man and leapt towards his former master, but Rick managed to fire a round into Buster’s head just before it reached him. Buster collapsed in mid-air, momentum causing him to topple over and onto Rick. He heaved the dog off and watched as it fell back to the ground. We all stood around in stunned silence.
“Hurry! Get inside!” Rick yelled.
“Come on, kids. You heard him,” the man said.
I looked down and noticed that the older girl had a nasty bite on her hand. Buster’s sharp canine teeth had penetrated the skin. Rick stood staring down at his former canine friend as he backed up towards the house.
“That’s your dog, ain’t it, Swiftley?” the man asked.
“Yeah, he was,” Rick said. “That’s Buster’s corpse all right, but that sure as hell wasn’t the dog I raised.”
“Wasn’t your fault, man. It’s this crazy thing going around making all them animals go haywire. Something’s gone seriously wrong around here. Animals lost their goddamn minds or some shit.”
