Free Wormfood by Jeff Jacobson Page A

laughing hysterically.
    I landed on my side with a flat slapping sound, dropping into a space between two dead cows. It was almost warm, like a bath that’s been waiting a little too long. I fought my way to the surface of the rancid soup, gagging and thrashing. The greasy water was in my eyes, my ears, my nose, and even, oh, Jesus, my mouth.
    It didn’t taste dead, like I expected, but horribly, horribly alive, as if I could actually feel the bacteria and viruses and germs and God knows whatever else in that toxic soup swim and flit about across my tongue. The panic tumor in my brain burst, sending adrenaline shooting throughout my body, and I kicked and flailed, feet and hands slamming against soft, rotting meat.
    Fibrous chunks of flesh disintegrated under my fingers, floating away from the rolling carcasses. Shadows danced wildly across the cows, making them look as if they were surging around the pit, fighting not to drown.
    “Oh God, oh fuck.” I gagged.
    The meat hook sunk slowly into the liquid muck to my left.
    “Let’s go! We don’t have all night!” Junior shouted hoarsely, cupping his hands over his mouth.
    I thrust my chin toward the sky, anything to keep the thick water out of my mouth. My arms thrashed desperately at the hook, managing to wrap my fingers around the smooth, curved metal. I grabbed the cable with my other hand and pulled myself somewhat out of the water.
    Things twisted and squirmed all around me. I felt something moving in my right nostril and forced myself to stick a finger in there and dig out whatever it was. I pried it out and caught a quick glimpse in the erratic light of a squirming maggot on the end of my finger.
    “Let’s go!” Junior hissed.
    I took several quick, shallow breaths, and flicked the maggot away into the darkness, then locked my lips together and rolled the nearest steer over. I gritted my teeth and sunk the hook into a meaty shoulder of the carcass.
    “Get out of the way!” Junior shouted through his cupped hands.
    I reluctantly let go of the cable and paddled backward. Bert reversed the winch and the generator began reeling the steel cable toward the back of the truck. The dead steer was slowly lifted out of the water, its neck hanging at an odd angle and its eyes staring blankly at me. Streams of dark water ran off the matted hair as the light followed it up.
    I clung to a basketball-sized rock sunk in the wall and kicked away another carcass, rotten to the bone.
    I looked up just in time to see the steer’s shoulder muscle split in half with a wet, ripping sound. The carcass dropped back into the pit, landing on me like a freight train and driving me under the surface. This time, panic took over completely. My world got as dark and muffled as a nightmare; I could hear only thick, liquid sounds and my own frantic heartbeat. I fought my way to the surface, twisting, clawing, and kicking at the water and the soft meat.
    My hands found the rock again and I managed to pull my head out of the water.
    Junior hollered through cupped hands, “I said a
fresh
one, dumbshit!”
    Bert giggled and lowered the hook once again. Pushing away from the rock I grabbed the hook, then lifted my head and shoulders out of the water, kicking away some of the more rotten cows.
There. There’s one
.
    I half kneeled on one of the carcasses and raised the hook above my head. Thick warm water trickled down my neck. Then I brought that sucker down with all the strength I had, sinking the hook, deep this time, into the neck of the dead steer.
    I heard the winch begin to whine above me. The steel cable grew taut and began to lift the second steer out of the water. Junior followed the carcass with the flashlight. It spun slowly in midair, front legs jutting stiffly away from the body. I hung onto the rock in the pit wall, watching the splayed rear legs being pulled from the water. Then the light was gone completely, leaving me in total darkness.
    “Get the light down here!” I shrieked.