No streetlights burned, no houses were lit up. The McDonald’s on Main Street was dark, but they drove by slowly, staring into the big plate glass windows at the bugs covering the inside of the restaurant.
“What is going on?” Jason asked. “I mean, really, man: bugs?”
“Cockroaches, crickets, flies. I’ve seen grasshoppers and beetles. It’s not just one kind, it’s all of them,” Kevin said.
“How?” Jason asked. “Why? They’re not just swarming, they’re attacking. They got our—” but he cut himself off here, for Cory’s sake. He looked at his little brother, but Cory was looking out the window, staring at his school as they drove past it.
“I bet it’s safe in there,” he said. Jason glanced over to see what he meant, saw the school.
“It’s locked up, though,” he said. “And anyway, that place is so old, there’s probably a million ways they could get in there.”
“Then we could go someplace else,” Cory countered, “someplace just like it.”
“But where?” Kevin asked from the back seat.
“You think we should try the hospital?” Jason said. “Lots of people. And those places have back-up power, don’t they? For the machines and stuff?”
“Makes sense,” Kevin said. “We could try it.”
Jason turned the car around in a Dollar General parking lot, and headed back toward the highway. Cory turned on the radio and started scanning every station, hoping for at least one of them to still be on the air, but they heard only static at every stop along the dial, on both AM and FM bands.
Since none of the traffic lights worked, Jason stopped at every intersection, and every time he did, the chirp of the crickets got louder for a second. And the longer they were out, Jason noticed, the fewer and fewer people they saw. Some cars were left abandoned in the street, the doors open, lights on. Several houses they passed were also open, the doors wide, with nothing but complete black glaring out at them, daring them to step inside. Jason thought of how his father looked in those last few seconds. They weren’t just swarming him, they were eating him.
Kevin saw the lights of the hospital first and couldn’t contain his excitement. It infected the others and soon all three were eager to get there, to sit in the light, to be surrounded by people. The parking lot was as full as could be expected and Jason wondered if others had the same idea of safety out here. That would come as a huge comfort, especially to Cory, whose state of mind he worried about. Whatever was happening, it had to be even harder on a thirteen-year-old.
Kevin pointed out a parking spot, the closest one nowhere near any of the doors.
“I don’t see any bugs out here,” Cory said.
“Yeah,” Jason agreed. “Haven’t seen any outside, but we’ve heard plenty of them.”
“We’ll run,” Kevin said.
Jason pulled into the spot. “Cory, you hold my hand,” he said. He’d expected an argument on that point, but his little brother merely nodded.
They climbed out of the car, Jason taking Cory’s hand, and all three took off for the first door they saw. Halfway there, Jason had a moment to wonder if it had been locked, if someone had tipped them about what was happening, and someone in charge had locked the door against anyone else getting inside. Then, for a second, he knew it was true. They’d never get in. The people inside had everything they needed, they could survive for a while, probably, if this thing—whatever it was—went on long, so why would they ever want to let more people in and diminish their finite supply? They wouldn’t, he realized. The doors were locked, and the run back to the car was going to be even longer. And what if they didn’t make it, because there could be a million and a half bugs with sharp pincers hiding under every single car in this parking lot, and Jason could easily imagine those bugs working their way out of hiding this second, waiting for them to find the doors locked and have to turn around and come back, only to find their way blocked by a sea of insects.
But the door wasn’t locked. Kevin got there first, tore it open and held it for Jason and Cory, then darted inside behind them.
There was light, but not the bustling crowd of people Jason had expected to find. In fact, the halls were empty. The gift shop stood open, but empty. Same for the chapel.
“It’s so quiet,” Kevin said as they traveled down the hall. “It’s so weird.”
“No bugs anywhere, though,” Jason said.
“Yeah, that’s good,” Kevin replied.
“We should find the ER,” Jason suggested. “If there’s lots of people, that’s probably where they’d be.”
They found a map of the hospital, located the emergency room, then headed toward it.
“Maybe they can send an ambulance back for Dad?” Cory asked.
“Yeah,” Jason said. “We’ll see.”
They turned the last corner to the emergency room, and all three stopped dead. There was no refuge here.
Bodies lay scattered, half-eaten, and still teeming with skittering, clattering bugs of every imaginable kind. They went halfway up the walls, meandering about, crawling over each other. A few hundred were on the ceiling. One fell onto Jason’s shoulder, a cockroach, big as any he’d ever seen, nearly the size of a small mouse, and he flinched, swatted it half a dozen times, trying to get it off without actually making contact.
It fell into a pile of beetles and lay there, legs flailing until the beetles shifted around, turning the cockroach over, and it crawled away.
Crickets chirped randomly somewhere under the moving mass of insects.
Cory had already backed away half a dozen steps. Jason couldn’t take his eyes off the corpses. Bugs spilled from inside them, as if they’d set up hives or dens or whatever it was bugs typically lived in. A nurse lay slumped over a keyboard at the desk. A chunk was missing from her open left eye. With her chin resting against the keys, her mouth was closed, but Jason saw movement inside her cheeks and for a moment he imagined it was his own mouth those tiny, rapid legs were tickling. He wiped at the phantom sensation with his tongue, then bit the inside of his cheek.
The chirping of the crickets quickly changed from random bleeps, merged, fell into synch, and in the span of a few seconds they all chirped as one loud voice. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that couldn’t be a good thing, especially when the mass of bugs all seemed to stop and take notice of them as a whole.
Kevin didn’t bother with words; he grabbed Jason’s arm and hauled him away. Cory was already running.
They tried to run back the way they came, but before they reached the chapel, the hallway was teeming with cockroaches and the boys took the first turn they found. They ran, legs pumping and muscles burning, their chests pounding with their heartbeats. They had no idea where they were going, but as far as they were concerned, if there weren’t any bugs in front of them, they were headed in the right direction.
They turned into the cafeteria, and Cory headed for the counter, probably to hide behind, Jason thought, but he only lasted a second before they all realized the roaches were eating everything they found back there, every sweet, half-rotted, or exposed bit of food was swarming.
“Where the hell are we going?” Kevin asked.
“I don’t know, man. How do we get out of here?”
“Hold up,” Kevin said, and they all stopped to catch their breath and decide on a plan. The hallway was bare and silent, except for their ragged gasps. Kevin leaned against the wall, bent forward with his hand on his knees, holding himself up. Cory couldn’t run as fast, but he was definitely in better shape. He was breathing heavy, but didn’t seem on the verge of collapsing.
“You think that was on purpose?” Kevin asked.
“What?” Jason replied.
“They blocked the way we came in. They pretty much herded us further inside.”
“That can’t be. They’re bugs.”
“I know what they are, but you saw them back there. Those crickets. All at once?”
“They’re communicating,” C
ory offered.
Jason looked from his brother to Kevin, who nodded, then said, “I think so, too.”
Jason shook his head.
Cory looked at the floor, then said, “Listen.”
The other two went silent, cocked their heads. The rustling came through very faint, but just noticeable under the hum of the lights. From further down the hall. They crept forward, the bathroom and supply closet doors giving way to patient rooms. The rustling came from inside. Jason knew what he’d find, but he had to open one of the doors anyway.
The room was painted in bugs, the remains of a patient sprawled across the bed with tiny black and brown bodies nesting in the abdomen, crawling through the hair, over what was left of the face. When the door opened, the bugs came for them, and the three took off again, back the way they’d come, still trying to get out of the maze.
Jason pulled them over to the side and said, “We’re going to have to go through them. I know there’s a lot, but if they’re between us and the doors out of here, we have to. How many of us can they get if we’re running, anyway?”
“How many do they need to get?” Kevin asked. “One’s too many for me, especially if I’m that one. Are you nuts?”
“No, I’m trying to protect myself and my little brother.”
“Did you not see what they did back in the ER? And do you think we’re any stronger or faster than any of those people?”
“Stay here, then. Cory and I are gone.”
Jason grabbed his brother and said, “Come on.” Cory followed, but his reluctance was plastered all over his face.
Kevin followed too, under protest.
It didn’t take long to find the bugs, or for the bugs to find them. And that was the moment Jason saw the flaw in his plan. Kevin noticed it, too. The beetles clacked and clattered, barricading the hall, but not coming for them. It almost looked as if the bugs dared them to come further.
“We’re nowhere near the door,” Kevin said.
“We’ll be fine. We’re bigger, faster, and we’re going to keep moving, and killing as many of them under our feet as we can.”
“We don’t even know how far it is to the door,” Cory said. His terror was evident, and Jason knew if Cory was showing a reaction, he had to be affected in a huge way. Cory was the ice king, the inspector, the one who looked objectively at every situation and simply got through it to see what happened on the other side. But how do you remain objective when the whole town is in blackout and the one place you’ve found with lights is full of bug-infested corpses—and you’re next?
You don’t. And Cory was the proof of that.
“You’ll be okay, Cory,” Jason said. “Just keep up with me.”
“You know I can’t.”
“It’s okay,” Kevin said. “We’ll be here, too.”
Jason ran through his memory of where they’d been so far, trying to remember landmarks like artworks on the walls or where the snack machines had been, anything that might clue him in when to turn and which corridors to take.
He grabbed Cory’s hand, held it tight, and they took off.
The crunch beneath their feet sickened them and a few times they slid in guts when too many of the disgusting things got under them.
Cory tried to keep up, but mostly it was a matter of Jason slowing down for him.
The further they ran, the thicker the carpet of crickets and cockroaches; the bugs were fortifying their position and not making this the least bit easy on them. Soon the thin sheet of bugs had grown to a shallow pool that came to the tops of their feet, and then they were struggling through a swamp that covered their ankles and had to contain several million bugs. Their progress was nearly halted, but they fought through, taking down as many as they could. The door was in sight when Jason glanced over his shoulder and saw several dozen bugs working their way up Cory’s legs, some as far as his abdomen. In his fight to freedom, Cory didn’t notice.
Jason stopped to swat them off. What he didn’t see until it was too late were the ones crawling up Cory’s back. They’d reached his shoulder, crawled up his neck, into his hair, a few smaller ones slid into his ears too quick to be stopped, and took Cory to his knees.
Jason swept bugs from his brother’s hair, off his shirt, away from his face. But he only had two hands and they got into Cory’s nose. He gagged when they crawled up and down through his nasal passages and into his throat.
Jason shouted, “Help me!” but Kevin only stood there, a blank look plastered on his face.
Cory doubled over, clutched his gut, and that’s when the rest of the bugs swallowed him in a rippling, writhing cocoon, and Jason snatched his hands back so quickly he lost his balance and fell backward. He went wrist deep in the cockroaches, slid in their smashed bodies, and scrambled to his feet, sweeping bugs off him and telling Kevin, “Get them off my back.”
Kevin grabbed his arm and hauled him toward the door, but Jason fought him, yelling, “We got to get him out, we got to get him!”
Kevin got him outside, away from the building, leaned him against the trunk of a car.
“You can’t get him,” Kevin said.
For the first time since the attack started, Jason lost it.
He punched the trunk until his fist left dents, ignoring the pain, yelling “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” over and over. He turned and ran back toward the building, with Kevin giving chase.
Jason stopped before the automatic doors could open and watched the diminishing bulk of his brother buried beneath the swarm as they devoured him. He cried as they finally retreated. What was left was his brother sprawled face-first on the floor, covered in a hundred thousand bite marks, bleeding and gasping. When Jason saw Cory move, he tried to go back in, but Kevin stopped him again.
“You saw what they did,” he said. “They got inside him, man.”
“Fuck you,” Jason said, and turned around. He had to close off his heart now and find the car. But this hadn’t been the way they came in and the car was two lots over. They approached cautiously, wondering if the bugs had anticipated this and come out to head them off, but they got the doors open, inspected the seats, floor and ceiling as best they could with the dome light until Jason found the flashlight in the backseat.
The car was clean, so they got in and closed and locked the doors.
On the highway again, Kevin asked, “You want me to drive?”
“No, I got it,” Jason said.
Several times, Kevin opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, so he closed it again. What would he say anyway? Nothing Jason wanted to hear.
He drove aimlessly, watching the people in the streets. The bodies weren’t hidden inside their homes anymore. They saw more and more dead outside, on lawns, sidewalks, slumped over steering wheels. The bugs were getting bolder, branching out, expanding their attack.
“Fucking madness,” Jason muttered. “We have to get some gas.”
“Where?” Kevin asked. “No one has power.”
“I don’t know. But if we don’t try, we’ll be walking soon anyway. My old man never was one for filling the tank. Ten bucks here and there always seemed to do just fine for him. Nice going, Dad.”
“I’m sure he wasn’t anticipating this.”
“Like it matters. He’s dead. Cory’s dead. At least I think he is. I’d know for sure if I’d gone back inside for him.”
“And you could have wound up right next to him on the floor.”
“Well, thanks so much for saving my life, I guess. Keep your eyes open for a gas station.”
««—»»
Kevin directed him to a truck stop at the edge of town. “They might be on a different grid? Hell, maybe it’s just us this is happening to.”
“Sure thing,” Jason said. They pulled into the darkened lot, though, and knew it was for nothing. “Forget it, then,” Jason said. “We’re done. Low fuel light’s been on since the hospital.”
“Maybe one of these others has some gas in it.”
“You know how
to drive one of those trucks?”
“No, but there’s cars, too.”
Jason drove around the lot, both of them scanning for prospects. The entire place was barren, with the exception of all the abandoned cars.
“There!” Kevin said, pointing. At the far end of a row of gas pumps they found a pickup with the doors open, nozzle hanging out of the gas tank. Jason pulled up alongside it.
Kevin got out, checked inside the cab. The keys were in it. Then he swept the interior with his eyes, looking for bugs. There were none.
“This one,” he said over his shoulder, waving Jason over.
Jason turned off his dad’s car, got out and came around to the truck.
“Where are all the bodies?” he asked.
Kevin looked around and shrugged.
“I don’t know. If they were out here, surely they’d have run away instead?”
“Maybe,” Jason muttered. “I gotta get something to eat, man.”
Kevin stared at him, dumbfounded. “How can you eat?”
Jason shrugged. “Look, all this shit started while my dad was making dinner. I need some food. I’m gonna check the store.
“Here, take the flashlight, and keep your eyes open. I’ll be there in a second, and we can stock up.”
But Jason was gone before Kevin got to the end of his sentence.
Kevin put the nozzle back in its cradle, replaced the gas cap, closed the flap, and got into the truck. The engine roared and he had to restrain himself from howling with joy. There’ll be time to celebrate once all this is over, he thought. He pulled the truck up alongside the store.
It was dark inside, but he’d expected that. He had almost reached the door before it dawned on him it was too dark. Jason was in there, with the flashlight.
Kevin pulled open the door cautiously, watching the floor just across the threshold in case a wave of bugs washed over his feet.
“You in here?” he called. Jason didn’t answer. Kevin stepped inside. “Where are you?” He didn’t hear a thing inside the store. He went down the aisle closest to the front, past the motor oils and atlases, headed for the refrigerators. He heard a noise and turned toward the corner, then realized it was the urinal flushing, and the men’s room door opened, accompanied by the glow of the flashlight and Jason. “Shit, dude, you scared the hell out of me.”
Piercing the Darkness: A Charity Horror Anthology for the Children's Literacy Initiative Page 34
