#michael morrow

It wasn’t like the movies. As Michael folded, he leaned into her instead of falling backwards. His weight fell on her good side, knocking her backwards.

The two of them fell to the ground. All she could feel was pain. The worst of it radiated up from her side, her hand offering little protection from the hard dirt road. A second ache, dull but insistent, stabbed into her shoulder. She squirmed, but that only made it worse. There was something hard on the road underneath her, pressing into her shoulder blade firmly.

A clammy breath ruffled the hair on her cheek, and the touch of sticky fingers made her jerk her head away. She brought her booted foot up and slammed it into Michael’s side, jostling him. His hand fell across the top of her chest instead, the touch making her skin crawl even more.

He wasn’t moving any more. Alice blinked, taking a deep, shuddering breath. She could only fill her lungs about halfway; the rest was being squished too tightly. He was heavier than she had been expecting. As she breathed in again, she realized that she couldn’t feel any breath joining hers.

She was going to be sick. She was going to scream. She stared up at the night sky, everything blurred by her tears into one immense, black void ready to swallow her whole.

She had to get out of here. She wiggled, keeping her hand clamped to her side. She placed one foot flat on the ground, and pressed her hand and other boot against Michael. She took a deep breath.

Don’t think about the wetness. Don’t think about the smell hanging heavily in the air. Don’t think about the whine of mosquitoes circling around. Don’t think about the pinprick of tiny legs on your skin, or about how they’re going to be descending on him with even more hunger.

She pushed. A wave of dizziness hit her. She could feel the blood trickling out between her fingers from the strain. After a few seconds, the pain was too intense for her to continue. She slumped back down.

His hair was almost fully covering his face, only part of his mouth and chin exposed in the low light. The cut on his lip was still obvious, dark and scabbed. She turned her gaze away, ignoring the sinking feeling in her body. She had to get out of here first; she would go back to everything else later.

His body had shifted slightly to the side, his weight mostly lying on her limbs now. She grabbed his arm, pushing it up and away from her chest with as much force as she could. It flopped back by his own side, making his torso shift ever so slightly.

With the new position, she could feel something digging into her stomach. She blinked, reaching down and patting the edge of his pocket. When she pressed it, a small ball attached to a chain slipped out.

The keys.

She pulled on the chain frantically. It slipped from her fingers. She wiped her fingers on her jeans, then tried again.

Her hands were still slick, but this time, she was just barely able to keep her grip. The keys clinked as they came free, sliding against her palm. The feeling of the cold metal pressing against her palm gave her a boost of energy she hadn’t thought possible. Her heart pounded, and the feeling of her pulse racing through her was even more intense than the pain.

She pushed again, and this time, Michael finally slid off of her. His hair fanned out around his head, matching the puddle of dark red growing underneath him.

The keys jingled as she sat up. She sucked in a full breath, sighing in relief. She was rewarded with an immediate stab of pain from her side, and she began breathing shallowly again.

She turned her head towards that awful, accursed, rundown farmhouse, but her focus was entirely on the car in the driveway. She might actually make it.

Alice pressed her good hand against a spot of dirt next to her that hadn’t been stained with blood yet. The keys dug into her palm, but she didn’t let go. She pushed herself up, first on one knee, then slowly, shakily rising to stand. Tears ran down her cheeks, and she wiped her face.