Disclaimer: I don't own any of the movies or characters from the "Cabin Fever" franchise. All "Cabin Fever" movies and their characters belong to their respective owners. I don't make any money from the writing of this story.
No sex in this one, just plot. But don't worry, the next chapter should be another hot one.
*****
The tears streamed silently down Marcy's cheeks as the glossy black casket descended into the earth. While members of Karen's immediate family broke down in grief, Marcy maintained a stoic dignity.
A stereo set up near the grave played a heartwrenching female folk band rendition of "Too-ra Loo-ra", a song that Karen's maternal grandfather apparently used to lull her off to sleep with when she was very young.
It was a tragic outcome to a long, painful battle against the horrible disease she'd contracted in those backwater woods. After more than two weeks in intensive care on a course of aggressive antibiotics, Karen finally seemed like she was on the mend. But within a week her condition began to deteriorate rapidly once more. Within 36 hours of the disease's resurgence she had lapsed into a coma. Within another 12, she was gone.
Everyone else had mercifully been spared the brunt of the contagion. Bert had begun to show lesions and weeping sores by the time he'd found help. But even he had received treatment early enough to prevent the virus from doing serious organ damage. He'd been discharged from hospital two weeks ago, having lost a frightening amount of weight.
Marcy, Paul and Jeff were all started on the antibiotic medication immediately after they were rescued. Marcy's bloodwork later revealed that she, too, had been infected. But seeing as she never developed symptoms, it seemed all but certain that her infection had been cured before it had a chance to do any damage. She had no idea whether Paul or Jeff had tested positive. She hadn't seen or spoken to any of the group since they were rescued. Until today.
One by one, those closest to Karen stepped up to the edge of the grave and tossed a white rose onto the coffin. Marcy dabbed her moist eyes and cheeks with a small, white handkerchief as her turn approached. She stood up and walked over to the officiator, who was holding a basket full of the flowers.
"Thank you," Marcy softly acknowledged, as she collected a rose.
Pausing for a moment by the grave side, Marcy sighed. Her fingers absently stroked the stem of the rose, hesitating to commit that all too final gesture of casting it into the cold, dark hole for eternity.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the memory of her departed friend, perhaps even her ghost, before finally letting the rose slip from her fingers.
Even if they'd overheard her, nobody would've understood what she really meant. Nobody except Paul.
Marcy turned and made her way down the aisle, vacating the grave side for the next mourner who wished to pay tribute: Ella, another of Karen's college friends. Behind the seats other attendees were beginning to gather in clusters, but Marcy drifted into an open area some distance away from any of them. Now that the funeral was all but over, she needed some time to gather her thoughts; to process the surprising impact the service had had upon her.
An hour ago, life had seemed so simple. For all its grief and regret, it was nonetheless simple.
She had made up her mind that she would have an abortion. It would be a quick, simple solution, and then she could put this whole awful ordeal behind her once and for all and try to get on with her life.
But then when she saw the coffin, when Karen's death became real to her - suddenly things didn't seem so simple anymore.
There was this part in the eulogy where the priest said, "Let us rejoyce for the life Karen led: a happy life surrounded by her loving family and friends." It really struck a chord with Marcy.
When Karen first showed signs of the infection, all her friends, Marcy included, turned on her and banished her from their comfortable cabin to a lonely little toolshed. Instead of comforting Karen when she was at her worst, Marcy was elsewhere finding diversion in some casual sex.
Throughout the funeral, the tragedy of it all resonated with Marcy. Such a bright young life cut short. Yet at the same time, there was the stirrings of a new life within her womb. A life spawned from the seed of Karen's would-be boyfriend, no less. Quite possibly, the child Marcy was carrying may well have been a child that Karen herself may have one day had with Paul, had she lived.
There seemed to be a cosmic, perhaps even divine balance to it all: one life being made in that cabin at the same time another was slipping away just outside. Having to carry the child almost seemed like it was the due Marcy had to pay for her appallingly selfish behavior. She began to suspect that if she didn't play her designated part in this exchange, if she didn't bring this child in to the world, her conscience would never truly be clear.
She still didn't want to have a baby. But now she felt like she *had* to see this pregnancy through.
On top of everything else going on right now, this realization was the last thing she needed. Marcy was traumatized from her own brush with death, still tender from her breakup with Jeff and in mourning for her best friend. Looking forward to a fresh start was the only thing she had to keep her going. Now that it seemed her immediate future would be consumed with the burdens of pregnancy, it felt like her whole world had just come crashing down.
She felt so alone right now. Nobody knew about the baby, nobody knew what she was going through. All she wanted was for somebody to hold her and tell her everything would be all right.
Ordinarily, she would've turned to Karen or even Jeff for solace in such a crisis. But Karen was dead and Jeff wasn't welcome here. Word had gotten out about his cowardly escape from the cabin - how he ran away like a little girl, leaving Karen, Paul and Marcy to rot. Karen's family were apparently livid with him, as were most of the people grieving here today. Marcy asked herself whether she would even want Jeff's hollow comfort right now, considering how he abandoned her before. She even surprised herself when she realized the answer was, "yes." Things were *that* bad.
Dabbing the steadily-flowing tears from her eyes with a handkerchief, Marcy raised her head for the first time since leaving the graveside and surveyed the cemetery landscape.
