Cry of the Cicada (Short)

by Rebecca Brae

spasm.

  Kate felt for a pulse and positioned her cheek over Grey’s mouth to see if she was breathing. Finding no signs of life, she swore and started CPR. After working on her for twenty minutes, she realized it was futile. They were hours away from an emergency room on a deserted road and there was still no pulse. Grey was dead.

  “What the hell just happened?” she demanded of the hushed night.

  Exhausted, confused, and angry, the only thing she could think to do was radio the hospital and report the incident. After agreeing to wait for the police and ambulance, Kate laid a blanket over Grey’s body and sat down beside her. She held Grey's hand as her warmth slowly drained into the chilled earth.

  Base Camp. July 14 - 05:15

  Dawn crept over the horizon and bathed the cluster of campers in golden sunlight. A repetitive, shrill chirping issued from the lab trailer. There was an immediate angry chorus of grumbling and thumping from the others.

  Sasha flailed her right hand, searching for the alarm, hoping to stop the horrible noise.

  Hertson, who had fallen asleep while sitting at the table in Kate’s trailer, jerked awake and peeled his face off his laptop keyboard. He glanced around in confusion.

  “What the hell is that racket?” He growled, struggling to his feet. Gesturing absently in Sasha’s direction, he ordered her to stay and left.

  Sasha had a brief fight with the zipper on her sleeping bag, escaped, and scrambled to the solitary window. Wiping away condensation, she saw Hertson and Peterson heading for the lab trailer, engrossed in a heated discussion. Melanie’s pale face poked out of her camper’s door like a nervous turtle peeking out of its shell.

  Dressing quickly, she retrieved Ed from her sleeping bag and slid him down her shirt. He curled into a contented lump against her warm belly.

  She glanced around the clearing to make sure nobody was watching and then darted to the lab trailer. As soon as she drew near, it became obvious where the chirping was coming from. She pressed her ear against the door, but could barely hear the conversation over the noise. She did manage to piece together that the male Cicada was the instrument of the early morning chaos.

  The door swung open and Sasha dropped down, scuttling under the camper. She held her breath, waiting to see if she had been spotted.

  Hertson sighed as he hopped off the metal step. “It’s a damn shame. Looks like she battered against the sides hard enough to kill herself. His distress call must have sent her into a frenzy. We’ll have to go back and collect another female. Let’s hope they haven’t moved any farther afield.”

  Peterson swore. “Not again!” After a moment, he continued in a calmer tone. “Of course, we’ll have to wait till Wolfe and Grey get back. No sense going without them.” His face relaxed at the thought of a delay and he was almost smiling by the time they disappeared into Hertson’s trailer.

  Sasha felt Ed wriggle against her tummy. “Are you hungry little buddy?” she cooed, peering into her shirt.

  Ed glided up her chest toward the light and hooked himself over her shoulder.

  “Well, let’s see what we can find for a hungry snake.” Sasha crawled out and headed for the forest.

  Forest Near Base Camp. July 14 - 05:34

  Sasha sat perfectly still listening to Ed hunt in the underbrush. She loved the woods. The cool green shade was a welcome relief to the oppressive heat. Her eyes drifted shut as she imagined timid fairies dancing in the foliage and cantankerous old gnomes playing chess under mushrooms.

  Her cozy fantasy dissolved when she heard Ed furiously hiss and spit. He slithered out of a nearby bush and headed straight for her foot.

  “What’s wrong?” She scooped him up and anxiously ran her fingers over his trembling body.

  As she examined him, a buzzing approached, growing louder until it seemed to vibrate in her head, tickling her ears from the inside.

  Ed let out a mighty hiss at the forest behind her.

  Sasha whipped around but saw nothing out of the ordinary. She turned back to study her friend. He was still quivering. She slipped him into her shirt and hurried back to camp, casting nervous glances into the darkening forest.

  Melanie descended on her as soon as she entered the clearing.

  “Where have you been?” She demanded, and then continued without waiting for an answer. “Don’t EVER go off like that again.”

  Sasha mumbled an apology, her attention still on the trees.

  Ed chose that moment to wriggle around inside her shirt and Melanie let out a shocked scream.

  Peterson and Hertson looked up from the picnic bench they were seated at.

  Hertson scowled and strode over, running a hand through his graying hair. “You, missy, are in BIG trouble. I told you to stay in the camper. I can’t take my eyes off you for a second! Your mom should hire you out to jails for security checks.”

  He took hold of Sasha’s arm and towed her away. “You’re going back to your camper and I’m locking the door until we figure out what is going on. You can’t pick locks can you?” He studied her practiced innocent expression and muttered to himself, “I suppose I could tie her up.” He looked at her again and pursed his lips. “Nah, someone would probably complain.”

  Melanie, who had wandered back to the breakfast table, let out an ear-piercing shriek and batted at the tabletop with a barbeque fork. A large, dark pod eluded her frenzied attack and disappeared under one of the bench seats.

  Hertson dropped Sasha’s arm and jogged over to get a closer look.

  The hairs on the back of Sasha’s neck prickled. She turned and saw another black form hanging on a nearby tree. The buzzing noise that had started when Ed was hunting intensified to a roar. And then the forest moved.

  Branches, leaves, and trunks came alive. A wave of beating wings erupted from the tree line and descended on the clearing. Sasha screamed and sprinted for her trailer.

  Gravel Road. July 14 - 05:39

  Kate stood to stretch out her numb legs. “Where the hell is everyone?” She checked her watch for what was probably the hundredth time.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a faint movement near Grey’s body. When she approached, one of the ranger’s legs twitched and a shoe peeked out from under the blanket.

  Desperate hope flared. Kate tore the blanket off and dropped to her knees. She frantically sought out a pulse and was rewarded with a slight movement under her fingers.

  “Grey! Grey, can you hear me?”

  Kate knew several natural substances capable of inducing catatonic states and mimicking death. Her best guess was that this new Cicada offshoot had developed some kind of slow acting venom. It would certainly help spread their progeny. Clever buggers.

  She bent over to check for breath just as Grey jerked into a sitting position, crashing her head into Kate’s face.

  Holding a hand over her smarting cheek, Kate tried to lay Grey back down. When the ranger’s stiffened body refused to budge, Kate lightly pinched her shoulder to get her attention. There was a slight crackling noise and the muscles under her skin felt like cottage cheese.

  “Grey, I need you to lie down and stay still. Everything’s going to be all right…”

  The ranger’s head twisted to an impossible angle and her eyes rolled independently in their sockets. She made a gurgling sound and Kate pried open her mouth, worried she was choking.

  Milky larvae surged from the depths of Grey’s throat and poured over Kate’s hands on a river of bile and blood.

  She scrabbled away, staring in horror as Grey’s flesh and clothes split, and more larvae crawled out of her twitching body. As soon as the nymphs came into contact with the ground, they burrowed down into the yielding soil.

  Kate lurched to the truck, got in, and slammed the doors shut. She radioed the hospital and ordered a quarantine of the area. As she talked her way through layers of health officials, all she could think was—whatever gods there may be, please keep my baby safe.

  Base Camp. July 14 - 05:40

&nb
sp; Sasha flung the trailer door open and shut it behind her. She huddled against the wall by the window, too scared to look out and too curious not to.

  With her heart thumping wildly, she quickly peeked out and saw Melanie run into the forest in a doomed attempt to escape the swarming Cicada. Peterson was crying and scrambling toward the lab trailer. Hertson stood in the middle of the camp turning in desperate circles, searching for something. He stopped when he saw her face pressed against the window and made a mad dash for the trailer.

  He burst in, ran headfirst into the closet opposite the door, crumpled onto the floor holding his now crooked nose, and vehemently kicked the door closed. Moments later, a relentless pounding and scraping started outside. The camper’s metal walls creaked ominously.

  “Sasha, get away from the window,” panted Hertson, painfully struggling to his feet.

  Long scratches appeared on the glass as he peered out. He watched as the lab trailer’s windows shattered and a great mass of Cicada poured inside.

  He swore and pushed Sasha further away.

  “We, we should block the window, right?” stammered Sasha. “The table’s big and metal. It‘ll work…won’t it?” She raised her wide-eyed gaze to meet his.

  Hertson grabbed the end of the folding table, yanked it off its hinges, and slammed it over the window. “Good thinking kid. Now we just need to figure out how to keep it up here. Don’t suppose you have an arc welder handy?”

  Sasha pensively stared at the floor and then ran to the closet. “Mom always keeps a tube of super glue and some