Uncle Jett declares we’ve dug this chamber dry and had best start lookin’ for a new vein. Pa scowls at his baby brother and mutters somethin' 'bout knowin' his place. Ma gives Pa a disapprovin’ look, but those two hardly ever agree on anything, ‘cept God’s plan. 
 
We pack up our belongings and venture deeper into the caverns in search of coal and a new campsite. Pa says takin’ the downward path is always safer than the one leadin’ to higher ground. 
 
As we descend, Ma recites verses from the Bible to Sissy, me, and the other kids, same as every day. Sissy still ain’t old enough to understand most of it, like how sufferin’s a natural part of life that fosters faith in God. The way Pa tells it, we just like Noah and his kin, tucked away from the world's wickedness in these caverns. Says all the evil people on the outside been struck down, and that only demons disguised as humans still live there, ‘sides woodland creatures which God gave us for sustenance. Says we're pure of mind, body, and soul, and that's why we're the only ones still livin'. As such, us kids ain't allowed on the outside. To drive the point home, Pa explains the limp in his step is from tusslin' with a demon. I didn’t think nobody could harm Pa. He’s the oldest of us by far, but he’s tougher’n nails. 
 
Bein’ uprooted from their familiar surroundings don’t sit well with Aunt Janice’s little boys; Jonas starts howlin’ first, and Jasper soon follows his brother’s lead. Aunt Janice been widowed for about a year and can only handle one at a time, ‘specially with that swollen stomach of hers, so I lend a helpin’ hand. 
 
After an hour of walkin’, Pa lead us into a large chamber, and after surveyin’ its perimeter walls with his lantern, decides it’ll do. He looks up at everyone with that cold stare ‘o his and asks if anyone has a problem with the place. His eyes linger on Uncle Jett longer. 
 
Pa goes huntin’ for food at nighttime. Sometimes he takes Aunt Janice or Aunt Arlene, an’ other times it's Ma. Uncle Jett guards over us while they're gone. Ma says they risk their lives for us by leavin’ the caverns, but she don’t sound grateful. Sometimes we eat good, and sometimes we go hungry. Sometimes the meat’s lean ‘n tender, but every so often it's chewy ‘n tastes wrong. Pa always says to be thankful for what we got, 'cause things could be a whole lot worse. Last year, we lost Granma Jessup to sickness and Aunt Janice’ husband Jim to demons. But these hardships is blessins’ in disguise, Pa says, ‘cause they bringin’ us closer to God.
 
The adults always talkin’ in low voices after puttin’ us kids down for the night. Sometimes when I’m still awake, my curiosity gets the best of me and I hear some such things ‘bout sheriffs ‘n bounties, and I hear worry in their voices. Can’t stew on these things though, ‘cause I know we're God’s chosen few, bound by blood and faith. 
 
Pa and Aunt Janice been comin' home empty-handed lately, so I do my part 'n scavenge for salamanders 'n crayfish to eat, but it ain’t enough. “The good Lord will provide,” Ma keeps sayin.’ 
 
A few days ago, Sissy caught a cold. Kept gettin' worse, and the good Lord took her from us last night after everyone was sleepin,' 'cept Pa, who went huntin' to calm his mind. This mornin' the cast-iron stewpot had meat boilin' in it for the first time in two weeks. Ma cried all day. 
 
“What God gives, God may take,” she kept sobbin’ over and over again. I still don't understand how He takes people away when they die. Bodies ain't light, an' there ain't no tunnels leadin' up to Heaven that I know of.
 
I miss Sissy so bad it hurts, but I don’t cry. Pa would whoop me bloody if he saw me shed a single tear. That night, we chewed away our sadness in silence. Nobody seemed hungry but Pa, despite it all.
 
The adults been arguin' in hushed tones since Sissy passed. Pa’s eyes flare up like fire when they spattin,’ and I can tell he losin’ his temper. “It ain’t the first time and it won’t be the last,” he yells. 
 
Ma, Aunt Janice, an’ Aunt Arlene all huddled 'round Pa, tryin' to sooth him, and I can barely tell 'em apart. Judgin' by the fear in their eyes, they ain't havin much luck. “You girls is just like your Ma, always blurtin’ without speakin’,” barks Pa. Uncle Jett scowls and curses under his breath from across the fire, but avoids Pa altogether.
 
Later that night I wake to screams. The women are all cryin’ hysterically, huddled over Uncle Jett, who’s lyin’ on the ground in a pool of blood. He looks dead. 
 
Pa got a gash on his forehead, and he’s bleedin’ real good. 
 
“Stupid boy just like his brother Jim, ain’t never learned to honor thy father,” he roars in a rage. “But that’s one less mouth and one more harvest. The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Pa goes from hot to cold in seconds. He grabs a lantern, heads to a nearby water hole, and begins washin’ his face off. 
 
Pa’s words leave me feelin’ disgusted an’ confused. An I’m beginnin’ to think he’s been on the outside too much, that his soul ain’t so pure after all, and that he’s no longer a part of God’s Plan. I get up and reach for his unattended rifle. 

Carly shoulders open the ER doors; her hands are busy clutching her slim gut. Weary, wasting faces turn toward her, then away. The only gaze that remains is stony and belongs to the man behind the check-in counter.

“Please,” she gasps, “I need a doctor.”

“For what, ma’am?”

That should bother Carly. She’s too young to be a ‘ma’am’. But Carly, the Carly who cared about things like that, is gone, replaced by a desperate shell.

“My stomach… hurts,” she manages. “I’m dizzy. The worse it hurts, the dizzier I get.”

“Mmmm.” The man looks at his computer. “Have you suffered an injury?”

“No, it just… started.”

“Fill out this paperwork. I’ll have somebody with you as soon as I can.” He’s still looking down as he offers a clipboard.

She leans on the desk and notices her stomach has swollen enough to seem unfamiliar.

“How long will it be?”

“I can’t say, since we prioritize people based on the urgency of their condition. I would guess two hours.”

“Two hours?” she shrieks. The worn-down waiting faces sneak furtive glances her way.

“Well, if you’d arrived earlier, it might’ve been less. But this is a busy time of day, so, yes. Two hours.” The man is petulant, flattening his lips into a line.

“But… it hurts,” she begs, barely able to argue through the pain pounding on her abdominal wall. “Please.”

He jabs the clipboard at her. “Paperwork, ma’am.”

A nurse rushes through a set of double doors. Carly clings to her and feels her growing stomach brush against the nurse’s side.

She moans, “I need help.”

“Ma’am.” The nurse’s nostrils flare as she shakes Carly off. “You need to sit down and wait your turn.”

Carly admits defeat and lurches toward an empty chair. She nearly makes it, but she is weak; her abdominal muscles rip apart while skin tears like crepe paper from her navel outwards.

An uninteresting scream dies in her melodramatic throat. As her hypochondriac body flops to the floor, a pearlescent grub the size of a cat flops out from her burst midsection. It slowly unfurls, smearing milky, viscous fluid across the flecked linoleum. Six sharp, segmented legs tentatively explore this new world. Its pulsating midsection glows red with the host’s blood.

“Well.” The man sniffs. “If it was that bad, she should’ve said something.”