| October 2, 2023 – 3:30 AM
The headlights cut through the thick fog, illuminating the gravel road ahead as Lin pushed the truck past the speed limit. The further they drove, the darker the roads became—no streetlights, just endless fields stretching into the night.
Helen sat in the passenger seat, checking her medical kit while Lin kept her grip firm on the wheel.
"How bad do you think it is?" Lin asked, voice even.
Helen didn't look up. "Four down already? Could be poisoning, could be disease. Either way, it's bad."
Lin pressed harder on the gas. "We'll find out soon enough."
Up ahead, a set of bright floodlights illuminated a large pasture. Several figures stood near a wooden fence, pacing, panicked.
Dawson Farm.
Lin barely had the truck in park before Helen flung the door open and jumped out.
A man in his late forties, wiry and red-eyed from stress, rushed forward.
"Are you Dr. Zhang?"
Helen nodded sharply. "Where are they?"
"Over here—please!"
The man—Tom Dawson, presumably—led them through a gate, past a few nervous farmhands, and into the pasture.
Lin felt her stomach tighten.
Four massive Holstein cows lay sprawled in the grass, their bodies heaving, labored breaths misting in the cold night air. One of them weakly kicked its legs, struggling to rise, only to collapse again.
The rest of the herd had been pushed back behind a secondary fence, mooing anxiously, stomping their hooves.
Helen dropped to her knees beside the nearest cow, already working."When did this start?"
Tom ran a shaky hand through his hair."Late evening—around nine or ten. Thought they were just sluggish from the heat today, but then one went down, then another, and now—" He gestured helplessly. "It's like they just... shut down."
Lin crouched beside her mother, watching as Helen checked the cow's gums, then its pupils.
Helen's face darkened."Pale gums. Slow response time. Weak pulse."
Lin exhaled. "Poisoning?"
Helen grabbed a stethoscope, pressing it to the cow's belly.
A beat.
Then—her expression sharpened.
"No. This is bloat."
Tom blinked. "Bloat?"
Helen snapped her fingers at Lin."We need a trocar. Now."
Lin didn't hesitate, sprinting back to the truck.
Tom stammered."Wait, wait—what does that mean? Can you fix them?"
Helen didn't look up."If we work fast."
Because if they didn't?
Every single one of these cows would be dead before sunrise.
| October 2, 2023 – 3:35 AM
Lin ripped open the truck's medical kit, hands moving fast, searching. Tubes, syringes, scalpels—where the hell was it?
Then—her fingers closed around the trocar.Long, sharp, meant for emergency use.
She sprinted back to Helen, who was already prepping the first cow.
Helen snatched the trocar without missing a beat."Lin, hold her steady."
Lin dropped to one knee, pressing her weight against the cow's massive side, steadying the bloated animal as its stomach convulsed.
Tom hovered, eyes wide with panic."Tell me what's happening!"
Helen didn't look up."Bloat means gas is trapped in their stomach. If we don't relieve it now, their organs will fail. They'll suffocate from the inside out."
Tom's face drained of color.
Helen positioned the trocar, lining it up against the cow's left side—precisely where the rumen sat beneath the skin.
Lin tightened her grip."Do it."
Helen drove the trocar in.
A sharp, wet puncture—then a horrifying hiss as trapped gas violently rushed out.
The cow jerked, but its body immediately sagged, relieved. Its breathing slowed from frantic to shallow, then steadied.
Helen exhaled. "One down. Next."
Lin was already moving to the second cow.
| October 2, 2023 – 3:50 AM
First cow—breathing normal, stabilizing.
Second cow—gas released, recovering.
Third cow—hanging on, barely responsive.
Helen's jaw tightened as she checked the last one."This one's worse. We need to move fast."
Lin's hands were already bloody, covered in sweat and dirt. But she grabbed the next trocar, pressing against the cow's massive form.
Helen lined it up—and pushed.
For one unbearable second—nothing.
Then—a deep, gurgling rush as the gas escaped.
Tom let out a shaky breath."Is it working?"
Helen checked the cow's pulse. Her shoulders finally relaxed. "Yeah. It's working."
Tom scrubbed a hand down his face."You just saved half my damn farm."
Helen sighed, wiping her hands."They're not out of the woods yet. They need close monitoring, fluids, and a diet adjustment."
Lin stood, rolling her stiff shoulders."Speaking of, what the hell have you been feeding them?"
Tom hesitated. "Same as usual—alfalfa, silage—"
Helen gave him a sharp look."Any sudden changes?"
Tom rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean… we did get a new batch of feed this week."
Lin's eyes narrowed."Where from?"
Tom hesitated.
Too long.
Helen shot him a look. "Tom."
He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It was… from a warehouse in the city."
Lin's eyes narrowed."Which warehouse?"
Tom swallowed. "One of those bulk suppliers near the industrial park. Guy said it was surplus from a bigger farm. Said they were overstocked and trying to clear inventory fast."
Helen's expression darkened."And you didn't question that?"
Tom threw up his hands. "It was a good deal! The guy said it was fine, and it looked fine!"
Lin let out a slow breath. "You paid cash, didn't you?"
Tom shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah."
Lin's jaw tightened. "No invoice?"
Tom shook his head. "Just a handwritten receipt."
Lin muttered a curse under her breath. "Great. So now we can't even track where this crap actually came from."
Helen dusted off her hands. "We don't need to. I can already tell you—this is bad feed."
Tom looked miserable."I just wanted to save some damn money."
Lin sighed, rubbing her temple. "Well, congratulations. You almost killed half your herd instead."
Tom dragged a hand through his hair, shoulders slumping."I screwed up, didn't I?"
Helen folded her arms. "You tell me."
Tom let out a slow, pained breath. "Yeah. I screwed up."
Lin nodded. "Glad we're on the same page. Now, show me the rest of the feed."
Because if this wasn't just a bad batch—if someone was deliberately dumping spoiled feed into circulation—Tom wasn't going to be the only one with a problem.