Page 35 of High Density

“The boss went to grab a few more hands to set up the gates so we can unload them,” the other guy shares.

Rather than try to maneuver these large trucks into position, given the limited space, it’s easier to create a chute to lead the cattle into a pen. Once Mackey returns with a couple of men, it doesn’t take them long to put one together, and I help, opening the dividing doors inside the trailer to release the next handful of animals down the ramp.

When I get to the section where the cow went down, Logan and the hand usher the rest of the cattle out, while I crouch down beside the motionless animal. It’s obvious she’s dead, her eyes are fixed and dull. Her tongue is protruding and slightly swollen, and what looks like vomit is crusted on the side of her muzzle and in her nostrils.

That’s odd. Cows rarely ever vomit unless they’ve chewed on a noxious weed, or ingested bad feed or some kind of poison. I’m going to need to get some samples from this cow.

“Logan!” I call out when I see him hustling the last of the animals down the ramp. “Can you grab the kit from the back of my truck?”

When he brings it to me a few moments later, I quickly collect a variety of samples, including blood and vomit, and slip the vials into my pocket.

“She was still alive when you first saw her?” I ask Logan, who crouches down beside me.

“She was, but barely. She was down and struggling to breathe.”

“Did you try to get her to stand?”

“There wasn’t any room, that’s why we were gonna unload, but I guess it was too late.”

“Yeah. I don’t think there was any saving her,” I assure him.

“What do you think it was?”

I shrug. “Not sure. It looks like some kind of poisoning but until I can figure it out, we’re going to be extra cautious and isolate the other cattle that came off this truck.”

“You think it could be some infectious disease?” Logan probes.

“Doubtful. I just want to be cautious, and isolating them also makes it easier to monitor the others for any signs they may be getting sick.”

“What’s going on?” Mackey walks in, followed by a portly older man wearing a ball cap.

“You’ve got a dead cow,” I inform him.

“Dead?Fuck. More fucking paperwork.”

This comes from the man in the ball cap who, I’m guessing, is the truck driver.

Mackey claps him on the shoulder. “Can’t be the first time an animal gets trampled on your truck, George?”

“I’m pretty sure she wasn’t trampled,” I interrupt. “I don’t see any evidence of any kind of contact on her, but what I do see are signs of some kind of poisoning. I was just saying to Logan, we’re going to have to monitor the rest of the cattle from this truck so they’ll have to stay isolated from the rest until we know what we’re dealing with.”

Mackey bursts out in a litany of curses, expressing his displeasure with both me and the situation. Ignoring him, I turn to the other man.

“George, is it? Are you the driver?”

He nods.

“If you could move this truck away from the stockyard, I need to open this cow up. I want a look at her stomach contents.”

“You wanna cut her open in my truck?”

“Best place for it,” I return. “I assume you were gonna hose it down anyway?”

He doesn’t seem happy, and neither is Mackey, who seems near apoplectic with rage as he rants on about having me kicked off the grounds, making sure I’d never work again, and threats of that nature. I’m ignoring him pointedly, which is the best thing to do with bullies; don’t give them the satisfaction.

“But first I need to have a quick look at the other animals,” I continue to explain to George.

I close my kit and get to my feet, grimacing at the pop and crackle of my knees.

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