While the men and Ellis’s mother joked about what a mess they’d made of killing the deer, Ellis had stared at the dead animal slumped in the back of Rocky’s pickup. The buck with big antlers was one of the most beautiful things Ellis had ever seen. She’d glimpsed deer in the Wild Wood but never up close like that. The stag’s eyes were open, his tongue hanging out. Ellis remembered the bloody hole in the side of his belly. She had wanted to cry, thinking how bad that would hurt, but she knew her mother would tease her if she did. She kept quiet and cried inside.

Ellis held the stab wound in her side and staggered out of bed. She barely made it to the bathroom in time. After she emptied her stomach, she lay on the floor next to the toilet. The cold tile felt good on her feverish skin.

She shouldn’t have thought of the gut-shot deer. That was what made her vomit. But the fever delirium was making her see and think all kinds of things she didn’t want to.

She awoke on the tile, quaking with chills, and managed to drag herself up. She put a trash can next to the bed so she wouldn’t have to run to the bathroom the next time. She took more ibuprofen, drank more water. Fell into restless sleep.

She woke on fire. Why wasn’t the fever reducer keeping her temperature down? Maybe the fever had to do with her wrist. It was swollen to double its normal size and throbbed right through the large dose of ibuprofen. The stab wound hurt even worse. She pulled back the covers and lifted her T-shirt. She peeled back the duct tape and gauze. The wound was purple and rimmed in red. It looked bad.

She needed help. Someone she trusted.

She got out of bed, walked with teetering steps to her car parked in front of her motel room door. Just seeing Gep’s happy face made her feel better. She ripped him off the tape sticking him to her car dashboard, got herself back to the motel room, and cuddled him under the covers. “Do you think I should call Keith?” she asked him.

She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was smiling.

Gep was right. Keith would help her. He’d bring her antibiotics.

She took her phone off the bed stand and opened the messages. There was one conversation from two winters ago. First the directions to Pink Horses, then four one-sided texts: December 28: How’s it going? I hope you got out of the Midwest before that big storm. Let me know how you are. (This is Keith BTW) January 10: Where are you? Seeing great stuff?

January 24: Hi, Ellis. Could you just send one word so I know you’re okay?

February 2: One word. Or maybe just randomly type letters.

February 2, a minute later: Give the pony my regards.

She hovered her finger over the buttons. The only personal call she’d ever made from the phone was to him. She pressed her finger down. The ringing in her ear felt more like a fever hallucination than a real sound.

He picked up on the third ring. “Ellis?”

“You remember me?”

“Of course I do.”

She started crying.

“What’s wrong?” he said. “Tell me. Please stop crying and talk to me. What’s going on? Do you need help?”

“Yes. Yes,” she sobbed.

“Where are you?”

“Sweet Dreams Motel. Room 133.”

“Where is that? What town?”

“I don’t know.”

“What state?”

“I’m near you. I think I was trying to get to you after it happened . . . but I was afraid, and I stopped here and now I can’t leave.”

“I don’t understand. What happened? Why are you afraid?”

“I need antibiotics. Will you bring me some?”

“Are you sick?”

“Yes.” She started crying again.

“You’ll be okay. I’m coming. If I can find the motel, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Wait a second. Let me look it up on my computer.”

She waited. She was afraid it was all a fevered delusion. Had he said he was coming?

“I found it,” he said. “On Long Lake Road?”

“I don’t know. Yes, I think so. Are you really coming?”

“Of course I am.”

“Will you bring antibiotics?”

After a pause he said, “Yes, I will.”

“Keith?”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t call the police.”

“What happened? Why would you say that?”

The alarm in his voice scared her. “Promise or you can’t come!”

“Okay, I promise. Hold on tight. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t.”

“I’m already walking out the door. I’m on my way.”

The phone went silent. Ellis stared at it until the screen went black.

She held Gep against her chest and tried to sleep. A few minutes later, she threw up in the trash can, then fell back asleep.

Brown leaves madly spinning. She ran and ran through a forest. Someone was screaming. Screaming in her ears.

Pounding. Pounding. It stopped for a while. Then started again.

“We’re coming in,” someone said.

Ellis opened her eyes.

The ceiling light flashed on, and Keith rushed over. Everything was too bright. Glowing light shined off him, and she had to squint to look at him. There was another man who stayed by the door.