My Megan by Cary Rainey

 

Nathan’s headlights pulled in behind me and, half-way down the mountain, the shit hit the fan.  I didn’t know, then, what we had seen in the sky, but as Dina appeared in my headlights, it was what I immediately thought of and I knew it had changed everything.

Dina looked horrible, like she had been in a wreck or something.  She was limping up the hill, her hair wild and spotted with leaves and twigs.  Her clothes were covered in blood and her right arm hung limply at her side.  Recognition or awareness seemed to slowly come to life within her in the frozen moment it took me to stop the car, and, as I did, she started coming quickly toward us.

We both, Megan and I, were getting out of the car and I could hear Megan crying Dina’s name and she was closer to Dina and closed the distance, came to Dina’s side as Dina limped to her, but I didn’t.

I didn’t move past my door because something was wrong and I wasn’t sure but I thought I could hear Dina moaning except it sounded like she wasn’t really moaning.  It sounded like she was growling.

“Wait,” I pretty much whispered, small and quiet.

Then Megan was there, by Dina, saying things I couldn’t hear and she put her arms around Dina.  I did take one step forward then, but it was weak.  I felt stupid, like in a dream.  I watched as Dina twisted her head up and then slammed down, biting hugely into Megan's shoulder.

I started running toward them and I heard car doors slamming and in an instant Arnold and I were pulling Dina and Megan apart.

Dina fell on her butt, her left arm swinging clumsily at me, then at Megan.  I turned away, examining Megan’s bloody shoulder.  Megan was shouting at Dina, “What did you do?”

“Goddamnit!”  Nathan ran past us.

The bite had broken the skin, definitely.  I couldn’t tell how bad it was, but I knew she would need stitches.  I looked back to tell Nathan and Arnold.  Dina had risen and turned to face the two men.  That was when I got a good look at her mangled right arm and the bloody mess that had been her back.  Her jacket was mostly gone.  I could see bits of it and her shirt but mostly there was just a bloody mess of spine – actual exposed golf ball vertebrae – and a moving soup of muscle.

I looked at Megan.  Her eyes were locked on Dina.

Nathan shouted that he was going to get Barry and then he was gone, running uphill.  I forced Megan back into the car and jerked back around.

We were getting the hell out of there.

Arnold was facing Dina whose moaning was now actual moaning – long, loud, and pitiful.  He was backing slowly away from her and asking her things like if she was alright and what had happened to her.

Above them, I thought I could see more streaks in the sky.

I wanted to help Arnold, I really did, but I needed to help my wife.  Either way, I had to do something because I was suddenly sure I would go insane if I just kept looking at Dina because there was something very, very wrong with her, something way beyond her injuries; I could feel it, but all I could do was watch Dina chasing Arnold around until I heard Nathan’s car returning and then, finally, we were all together.

An image of the food not eaten, on paper plates by the grill, zoomed past and I nearly laughed.  I wanted to laugh because I didn’t know what the hell else to do.

Mort and Barry ran to her, to Dina, but as they drew alongside Arnold, Mort stopped and grabbed Barry.

“What the fuck!” Barry shouted as Arnold stepped back toward Nathan, and Dina, hissing and limping and moaning, moved toward Mort and Barry and that’s when my mind started screaming that she was dead.

“Dina,” Mort called to her.  “Say something!  Anything!  Tell me how you’re feeling!”

“How she’s feeling?” Arnold screamed.  “She bit Megan bloody!  She’s fucked up!”

“Mort,” I said and stepped forward just a step and pointed to her back.

“Dina, honey, it’s me, it’s Barry…”

Mort held Barry back and Barry had quit resisting.  He had gone limp and Mort led him in an arc around Dina and I stepped back to my spot.  I think they both saw it at the same time because Barry started moaning and pointing just as Mort started moving him quickly back to Nathan’s car.

I ran around to the driver’s side of my car and got in.  Megan didn’t even look at me; her eyes were still locked on Dina.  She was losing blood from her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to be in much pain.

Then Mort was back with Nathan’s pistol.  Nathan was struggling with Barry.

“Dina, don’t make me do this!  Say something!”  Mort extended his arms, gripping the gun in a double fist.

“She’s already dead,” I whispered.  “The real thing.”

“Nofucknofucknofuck-” Barry.

I started the car and drove.  By the time I got to the paved road, heading for the hospital, Megan was dead.  I looked over and she had slumped forward, eyes closed, and I heard my own voice in my head again (She’s already dead.) and I collapsed in tears when I heard Mort shoot Dina.

Somewhere overhead, up there, in God’s house, are planets and solar systems and so many stars that they will never be counted.  They say sometimes you can see Venus and Mars and Jupiter with the naked eye.  Right now there are human beings living in orbit over our planet.

I turned around on the paved road and drove back up to my house on the near side of the creek.  I took Megan inside, laid her on our bed, and went back outside, looking at the stars and planets and whatever the fuck else is out there through watery eyes, trying to breathe, and uncontrollably thinking about what had happened to Dina.

That voice, the one in my head, mine, began to speak again, asking questions and answering them.

What happened to her car?

She looked horrible, like she had been in a wreck.

She’s already dead.

She had been in a wreck.  I hadn’t seen her car but it had to be close by.

She’s already dead.

But how…?

The real thing.

Whatever had crashed…

Whatever that thing was it had kept her from dying.

The real thing.

“She’s already dead,” I whispered.

It brought her back.

Megan.  The babies.

I went back inside and took Megan downstairs into the basement.