Edward Lee - Slither

Annabelle was clearly perturbed by Nora's presence with Trent. Nora loved it. What a drama queen. "I'll be on my way," she said and rose from the table. – - – - – - – - – - – -

Annabelle pulled back the shower curtain, brazenly hung up her towel so that both could see, then stepped in.

Another deliberate move. That self-absorbed bitch just can't stop showing everyone that her body's better than mine. By now, Nora couldn't care in the least.

"Oh, shit!" Annabelle bellowed. "Not again!" And then she leaped back out of the shower and flung the towel back on. "What is wrong with this freak-show gross-out island? I'm sick of it!"

What's she shrieking about now? Nora followed Trent over and looked in the shower.

"Looks like a piece of pink yarn," Trent said.

"Last night I had those disgusting worms in my lobster," Annabelle railed, "and now there's a snake in the shower."

That's no snake, Nora knew at once. The thing was a foot and a half long, glistening, and pink as bubblegum. I can't be this lucky, she thought. She dropped to one knee. The ground that served as the shower's basin was wet from the water that had accumulated; there was a half inch of muddy water topped by floating bits of leaves.

Nora leaned closer.

"Don't touch it!" Annabelle exclaimed. "It'll bite."

"It's just kind of floating there," Trent said. "Looks dead to me."

"It is dead," Nora affirmed. She looked up at Trent. "The insecticide you sprayed in here the other day saturated the ground." Then she looked at Annabelle, explaining, "And this isn't a snake. It's the same species of worm that infected the lobster, just older and more mature."

"Great, a worm. That's even more disgusting.'

But Nora wasn't disgusted at all; she was intrigued. The bands of the coelum matched those they'd examined last night with the microscopes.

Again, her observations were verified: This was not a species of annelid that she recognized.

Nora got her wish: a bigger specimen to examine.

"What's that stuff coming out of its mouth?" Trent asked. From the tip of the worm's eyeless head floated a plume of something nearly granulated and yellow.

"Ova," Nora said. "Motile ova. They're underdeveloped versions of those yellow things that were in here two days ago."

.You mean the worm's eggs?" Annabelle asked.

"Carriers of the worm's eggs," Nora corrected. "Once mature, they can move about independently. Some invertebrates don't lay eggs that hatch from a stationary nest, they disperse the eggs. Moving hairs called cilia or rings of muscle called parapods enable the ova to find its own hatching place. In the case of a parasitic ovum, the hatching place is another living thing, like a lobster, for example."

"Or a human?" Trent asked.

"With this type of worm, I don't think so," Nora felt confident in saying. "Not mammals of any kind. Once a worm or an ovum like this entered the bloodstream of a mammal, the macrophages in our immune system would kill it immediately. I don't think we have to worry about infections ourselves. The main thing I'm worrying about is getting in a thorough examination of this before it decomposes."

Nora looped the dead worm over her pen and lifted it up. Now I have something to do today!

(I)

Slydes barely slipped back into the woods in time; he'd just finished checking the head shacks where Jonas grew his pot, when-Goddamn! Not her again!-the skinny woman in the black one-piece turned the corner. Slydes ducked behind the trees. If he'd been a second slower, the woman would have seen him.

What the fuck is she doing in there?

She seemed intent on something, a half smile on her face as she bopped up to the first door. She's spending an awful lot of time in there…

Slydes noticed that she was holding something. It looked like a piece of pink string draped over her pen.

"Come on, worm," she absently remarked. "Let's see what you're all about." And then she went into the building.

Worm? Slydes thought. Is that what she said? So the pink string was a worm, obviously a dead one. But now that Slydes thought about it, the worm was the same color of the thing that had landed on Ruth two nights ago, and the same color of the worm they'd stepped on in Jonas's dope shack, but a lot longer.

And…

Ruth said something about snakes, too, didn't she? Giant snakes that were… pink…

Giant pink snakes? Or maybe giant pink worms…

He caught himself. Don't be an ass. There'd be all kinds of worms on an island like this. Not to mention that Ruth was fried crispy from drugs. The dumb-ass girl had hallucinations all the time.

He couldn't ignore the coincidence, though. Ruth harped about pink snakes, and now here was this skinny chick with the frizzed-out hair walking into the head shack with a pink worm…

Longest fucking worm I've ever seen…

He felt too lousy to dwell on it, though. He had a doozy of a fever now; his nose was running and stuffed up, and the headache throbbed constantly. He was out here trying to find Jonas so they could get out of here, but there'd been no sign of him yet. Fuckin' low-life pothead brother, fuckin' everything up. We wouldn't be out here now if it weren't for him and his damn souped-up dope. He slipped away from the old missile buildings. If we'd never come to this damn island, I wouldn't be sick…

But he knew he couldn't go anywhere until he'd found his brother.

Slydes searched for another hour, branches swiping at his face, vines threatening to trip him. Toward noon, the humidity was soup-thick; Slydes poured sweat. Just when he thought he'd keel over from the heat, he found a narrow freshwater stream. He thunked to his knees, then cupped cool water into his mouth and over his face. That's the ticket!

Then he looked down into the water and saw some inch-long worms crawling about.

The worms were pink.

If he'd had anything in his stomach, he would've vomited. Instead, he trudged away, revolted.

This island's a pile of shit…

Slydes's heart almost burst when a hand grabbed his wrist.

"Aw, brother, we are seriously fucked," the low, guttural voice told him. Slydes jerked away from the clammy hand.

It was Jonas.

Jesus…

Jonas stood leaning against a tree, his skin yellow like a bruised banana, but dotted with brilliant red spots.

"What-" Slydes gulped back some nausea. "What happened to you?"

"Them things, you know? Them little yellow buggers. Some of them, when they bite you, they change your insides. And some of 'em are just… eggs."

"Eggs? What the hell are you talking about, Jonas? You're talking crazy." Slyde's power of cognition was on a rough track. "Where you been? You left the boat a night and a half ago, and we haven't seen you since."

Jonas kept on the subject. "They're eggs for the worms."

Worms, Slydes thought in the back of his head. Worms…

"You've seen 'em."

Slydes's eyes widened in thought. The skinny chick, with the pink worm…

"One fell on Ruth the other night, and then we saw that smaller one near my plants." Jonas's watery eyes looked like wads of phlegm. "They're using us, Slydes. We're the subjects for their experiment."

"You're not talkin' sense!" Slydes yelled hard. "Experiments? Subjects? Man, we gotta get off this island! It's all fucked up, brother!"

"There were two parties of college kids who got here before us." Jonas scratched at the red dots on his arms. "They're all toast now-except for the big one. Usually a host'll kick the bucket after a couple of days, a week, maybe. But that big one's still walkin' around here. So just remember that, Slydes. The big one."

"The fuck you talkin' about? Big one?"

"Big, big guy. Like a football player. I guess he adapted better than most. Shit, maybe he changed over completely, ain't gonna die at all. He's a big guy. Watch out for him. He's trompin' around here like a fuckin' zombie."