Mandible

by Ian Woodhead

  “My father is in one of these, I think. He might even be in the next chamber, or the one after that. I'm not really sure to be honest.”

  “Fuck.”

  Ellis tore her gaze away from the pods. “Jason?”

  “I know why the archway brought us back here. It wasn't a mistake at all. I know what's happening now. I think the Mantil are collecting humans and converting them into their own kind. That must be what this is. It's a hatchery and if we don't find some way to stop them, we are going to be in serious trouble!”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Tooled up and ready to Rock

  A few moments ago, the damn gun became more a hindrance than a help when it got in Andrew’s way and he went arse over tit and ended up on the floor. To make matters worse, the fall had reopened his leg wound. The temptation to wang the bloody thing almost got the better of him but instead of throwing what might come in useful later on, he laid it on top of a second-hand washing machine, intending to return for the weapon when he'd retrieved some actual shells for the bloody thing. Andrew now felt as naked as the day he was born, armed with just his damn knife. Granted, it had saved his bacon a couple of times but only against the smaller specimens that he'd run, or limped into.

  Andrew needed to go back and check out that locked-up shop. Surely they must have dispersed by now? He hurried along the edge then stopped without knowing why, apart from his neck hairs standing up. Andrew spun around, hoping to Christ that one of those bastards weren't behind him. Thankfully, he found himself still alone. What the hell could that have been? His eyes informed him that there wasn't anything close by, that is, until Andrew just happened to look towards where he'd laid his gun.

  “You have got to be shitting me!” he whispered. The shotgun had vanished! Andrew limped back to the shop, thinking that perhaps it might have just kinda fallen off. He wanted to slap himself upside the head. Kinda fallen off? What was he now, a retard or something? Some fucker had stolen the bloody thing. Andrew stopped in front of the washing machine. Besides, if it had fallen off, it would be right there, lying next to that silver dryer.

  What pissed him off more than anything was his inability to yell out. Not after the last occasion when he'd opened his gob. Christ on a bike. Andrew shuddered. No, he didn't want to go through that nightmare again.

  Andrew just happened to stumble across the shuttered up shop again. The fact that he'd walked full circle hadn't really bothered him. What pissed him off more than anything was the fact that his best buddy, that shitty scumbag, Nelson, had lied to him. Both bolts were off and lying on the floor. The devious bastard must have unlocked them earlier, meaning he fully intended to kill Andrew first before returning here to stock up. At that moment, Andrew might have yelled out a few choice insults. He couldn't remember the exact words, nor did it matter. It was the consequences which counted, namely the appearance of over a dozen of those bastard insects, all craving one thing: Andrew's soft insides.

  It took him a good ten minutes to lose them all. Even so, Andrew almost ended up as dinner twice. Thankfully, a shop selling pots and pans saved him. Andrew took refuge in there while fleeing from a particularly persistent pair of bright yellow termite type creatures. They ended up meeting the business end of a copper bottom frying pan.

  Whilst inside that shop, it occurred to Andrew that this was as good a time as any to get the fuck out of there, meet up with Tony, if he was still alive, and get the hell out of Dodge. He hurried over to the other door which led out onto the main street and took a look outside. Any hope of escaping evaporated when he saw just how many of those things were out there now. Andrew wouldn't get ten yards past the door without one of those huge monsters charging him, pulling off his head and scoffing the insides. Whether he liked it or not, Andrew had to face the simple fact that he was stuck in here for the foreseeable future.

  He took a single step back, placed his hands on his hips and scanned the immediate area. From this vantage point, Andrew saw into four stalls and one shop behind him. He saw nothing out of place, not that he expected to, it wasn't going to be that easy. Andrew had to face the fact that he'd lost the gun. There was no way he was going to start poking his head into the shops, not a chance of that. Andrew preferred to keep his head attached, thank you very much. Hell, if he had felt suicidal, that katana, hung on the wall inside that shop directly in front of him would already be in his hands by now. The insects had to be somewhere, and as they weren't roaming the aisles, the only place left were the market stalls, lurking out of sight, just waiting for their unwitting prey to trip over them, then bam! Insect dinner.

  “Sneaky fuckers,” he muttered under his breath. Andrew spun around and retraced his steps, intending to get back to that shuttered up shop. He made his way back to the market edge and limped from pillar to pillar, keeping an eye out for any movement coming from those dark interiors. There were sliding shadows and the occasional movement of what could be either leg or claw but nothing raced out to catch him.

  He heard the unmistakable sound of something heavy being dragged across the tiled floor. It came from the market interior. Andrew froze as three humanoid shapes appeared from behind a kebab stall. Oh fuck, it was the things from his vision. The insect-men. Christ on a bike, so they did exist after all! Andrew quickly shifted to the left so the concrete pillar obscured his body. He tilted his head and watched them pull something down the aisle. Andrew couldn't tell what it was due to a bright-orange fabric sheet covering the bulk. Whatever was under there was big and heavy, due to how those things were struggling with it.

  They pulled it, inch by inch, down the aisle. The insect-men dragged the object past where Andrew hid and finally pushed it against the front of a hardware shop. The cover slipped off the huge object to reveal, what looked to Andrew, to be an arched door. He barely had time to comprehend the significance of this new development before the three figures totally blew his mind by standing in front of this archway, uttering a string of clicking and buzzing sounds before vanishing into thin air.

  It took him a moment to work out that the insect-men hadn't exactly vanished, they had somehow walked into that archway. Andrew waited for a few moments before he ran over to where they had once stood. He saw little point in trying to explain to himself what he'd just seen. Where was the point in that? The practical side of him did spot a potential way out of this damn market. As insane as it sounded, Andrew might be able to follow them through to wherever the fuck they went.

  He took a hasty step back. No, of all the stupid ideas he'd come up with today, that one really did need to go right to the top of the flagpole. Christ knows what could be waiting for him through there. Andrew might be trapped in here due to the insect army outside generally running down and tearing apart any human foolish to step outside but at least he was still alive.

  Andrew jumped back again when he heard a low hum coming from the archway. Did that mean he'd inadvertently activated it? He spun around, or how about some more of those things heading this way and remotely activating the damn thing?

  The hum increased in volume! Andrew took one last look at the weird gizmo before running back into the retro arcade, knowing that if more were coming then hiding behind that pillar would not save his arse.

  He took up position behind one of the arcade cabinets and waited to see if there really were any more of those things on their way. Andrew had no intention of staying in here for any longer than necessary, not after what happened the last time. The noise coming from that gizmo had changed to a high-pitched warbling sound. It fair hurt his ears. He decided to give it a couple more minutes and if nothing of interest happened, then he really would move out. Andrew still had to make his way back to that other shop to see exactly what lay beyond those metal shutters. In fact, what was there to stop him from taking enough food and drink with him in there? If there really were weapons inside then all he had to do was to close the shutters behind him and hold out until help finally arrived. Andrew nodded to himself. Yeah, that id
ea was golden, a lot sodding better than wandering around here armed with a crappy knife, that's for sure. Staying out in the open was basically the equivalent of signing his own death warrant.

  Andrew slipped out from behind the cabinet and moved further inside the arcade, making sure that he could still see outside. So concerned with watching for activity beyond the arcade entrance, he forgot about any possible hidden obstacles inside. Namely, what remained of his old partner, Nelson. His foot landed right in the middle of where the man's head had landed.

  “Oh hell,” he muttered, lifting up his leg to reveal a thick coat of grey slime attached to the sole of his shoe. Andrew gazed down at the mess; despite the disgust he felt, it really did shock him at how little of Nelson remained.

  “I have a cloth in my back pocket if you want to use it, dude.”

  Andrew jumped. He turned a little too quickly and almost lost his balance. Only his quick reactions and a conveniently placed change machine stopped him from falling face first into the stinking muck staining the carpet.

  “Sorry, dude. Didn't mean to scare you there.”

  The apparition was back. Standing in his usual spot, leaning, as casual as you like, against that sit-down arcade cabinet and sporting a grin which, thanks to Andrew's current mood, so needed slapping off.

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a yellow duster that had seen better days. “It'll only cost you one shiny pound coin. Now, I think that's an excellent trade, dude.”

  “Tell me why you're here.”

  “Does this mean you're not going to hand over a pound? Man, I thought we were pals. I mean. I did save your life, or have you forgotten about that?”

  Andrew lifted his leg and scraped off the mess using the hard edge of the change machine. It had already occurred to him that the appearance of this apparition was no coincidence. This guy obviously knew something about that structure outside. He wasn't going to ask though as Andrew just didn't care. The cloth and the pound coin swap had a deeper significance here and he was pretty sure that Mr. Geek over there had plans for Andrew which no doubt involved him getting his arse bitten off. He'd already made up his mind to hide out inside that shuttered up shop and wait for all this to blow over. It was the sensible thing to do.

  He fished out a coin from his pocket and flipped it towards him. “There you go. A pound coin. Now go do one. I've stuff to take care of.” Turning his back on the apparition was, in Andrew's mind, the most effective method of terminating this conversation before it started. He walked towards the entrance, this time avoiding the stain, and took one last glance at the structure before heading outside, his thoughts already turning to the best place to acquire adequate supplies without running into any more of those insect things.

  He blinked and found himself back in the arcade, leaning against that sit-in game. The geek sat beside him, yet again trying to beat that high score. Andrew so wanted to explode, to reach into that cabinet, pull him out and punch him into the middle of next week. He suppressed the urge, partly because he wasn't even sure that would happen but mainly due to the fact they now had an audience looking down from the balcony. Tony had joined Nelson who gave Andrew a little wave. Nelson just glared at him, not that he expected any less.

  "The fact that you did toss over some cash is the only reason why I didn't let you blindly wander into what could well have been your certain death." He took his eyes off the screen for a second. "Do you really want to join your pals, Andrew?" He returned to the game. "Granted, Nelson is deader than dead now. You made sure of that. As for poor Tony? Well, the insect warriors pulled his kicking and screaming body out of that car and stuck him in one of those cocoons. The enzymes are converting him as I speak. Just like they're converting me."

  The huge insects were outside the arcade again, which kinda restricted his choices a little. There would be no running up the stairs this time either. Andrew was pretty sure that those two goons would give him a good kicking. Nelson especially. The old bastard wasn't exactly a looker but he still had the charm to pick up the odd MILF in one of the many clubs in the city. The shotgun blast to his face buggered that up for him. Not to mention the flight over the balcony. The fact that he was also dead probably put a spanner in the works too.

  Had he totally lost his fucking mind? Just what the hell was all that about? The old bastard couldn't hurt him, no more could the monsters out there. This was all some deranged hallucination, caused by this tosser. Andrew clenched his fist. All he had to do was drop the cunt and walk out. Simple as.

  “I bet that, right now, you're thinking that none of this is real, that it can't harm you?” The young man climbed out of the cabinet. “It probably isn't a good idea to put that theory to the test, dude. Got another pound coin by the way?”

  “What do you want with me?”

  “Oh, so you can talk, and you vomit out a direct question.” He grinned. “That's a great start, cutting the small talk down to the bone. That's uber cool. I can work with that. What do I want, you cry? Oh, that's an easy one, dude. I want you to kill me before the conversion process is complete. I also want you to follow those warriors back to their staging post and somehow put a spanner in the works.”

  “Oh, is that it? I thought that, you know, you wanted me to do something really difficult.”

  “Wait, is that sarcasm?”

  Andrew reined back the desire to hurt the kid when his expression lost the pretend street-wise look. Christ, he now looked about twelve.

  “I don't want to hurt my mum and dad, man,” he whispered. The lad took a deep breath. “Or my mates, or any of my family. That's what will happen, Andrew. When the conversion finally turns us all into those murderous things. The first step is to eliminate every person who you're attached to and...” He clicked his fingers. The representations of Andrew's colleagues vanished and the giant insects faded away. “Why am I even bothering? Forget it. Just leave me alone.”

  He didn't even bother arguing, Andrew simply turned and found himself back where he should have been. The arcade had now gone dark. None of the machines were playing and all the lights were out. If the kid was trying to guilt-trip Andrew into doing his bidding then the daft twat obviously didn't know him. He sighed heavily. “Christ, what a loser.”

  That annoying distraction had cost him at least ten minutes. Time that Andrew could have spent picking up essential supplies in readiness for his attempt to sit out the rest of this disaster in relative peace and comfort. Then again, ten minutes, an hour or ten hours, he supposed it didn't matter all that much as long as by the end of it, he was safely stowed away inside that shuttered up shop.

  The only shop he found which looked safe enough to enter sold Polish food. Andrew didn't recognise any of the labels. He grabbed a plastic bag and added a couple of jars of what looked like meatballs. Beggars can't be choosers. Andrew added a few packets of biscuits and a couple of water bottles. Before leaving, he threw in a few more meatball jars, just to be sure.

  Just as he left the shop, laden with his goodies, Andrew glanced back at the dark arcade, and the insane thought of actually going back inside and doing what the kid begged took root and no matter what he did, the thought wouldn't budge. “Bollocks to that,” he whispered. Andrew walked backwards, while watching the arcade entrance. No, he wasn't going back in there, not without lighting. Hell, he had already witnessed the carnage that those things protecting the cocoons could do. It was all very well the kid saying that they wouldn't harm Andrew but that might change if he went back inside with the sole purpose of wrecking another one.

  He turned around after he reached the shutters, placed the bag by his feet, crouched down and got ready to lift the shutter.

  The smell hit him even before Andrew had the shutters to ankle level. He moaned, partly in disgust but mostly in frustration. He knew exactly what awaited inside the ship and it sure as hell wasn't a handy cache of weapons. Andrew slammed the metal shutter up past his head and looked at the dozens of foul smelling cocoons, ha
nging in five neat rows going down the length of the shop. He let go of the shutter and stepped back, feeling that his whole world had just come to an end. Until now, Andrew hadn't understood just how important this plan had been to him. It was, in essence, the only thing left to aim for.

  Somewhere inside the market, a couple of those insects started up with the clicking. A moment later, a few more joined in. Andrew dropped to his knees then pressed his hands against his ears when it sounded like the whole insect population in here were clicking. They were laughing at him, that’s what they were doing. Fucking laughing, having a bit of a humorous clicky banter at his expense. The bastards obviously found it fucking hilarious that he was utterly unable to do anything right. He'd fucked up the bank job, lost both the money and his colleagues and to put a big fat cherry on top of the cake, he'd gone and gotten himself trapped right in the middle of some kind of apocalyptic invasion. So, sure they were laughing.

  "You're all going to be laughing on the other side of your deformed faces when I finish with you," he growled. Andrew looked up. The arcade was once again bathed in the bright milky blue glow coming from all those arcade games.

  He jumped up and stormed back into the retro arcade. Andrew walked straight down the middle aisle, not even bothering to step over the squelchy carpet, which still contained a lot of the bodily fluid belonging to Nelson. He ran up the metal and didn’t stop until he reached the chrysalis.

  "Right, so here I am, you manipulating piece of shit. What's it going to be then? A throat punch, if I could find it, or do I throw you over the railing like I did with Nelson?" He received no reply. Andrew looked around where he stood, in search for anything he could use to hack through the chrysalis. He figured that even if he did throw the damn thing over the railing, it's likely that the shell could cushion the impact.