by Jeff Strand
Roberta shook her head. "Never."
"What should we do?"
"Mrs. Baine, I think we should reschedule your appointment. I'll help you get out to your car safely, okay?"
"Yes, that would be good," Mrs. Baine agreed.
Agnes returned to her desk and began typing on the computer. "Do we have any Raid or anything?"
"No," said Roberta, picking up the fire extinguisher. "But this should keep them away from us."
"Should we call the police?"
"Uh-uh. It's just some bugs."
Agnes nodded, though her face had turned pale and a bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She looked over at Mrs. Baine. "I can get you in at four o'clock on Tuesday if that's okay."
"Yes, yes, that's fine," said the old woman, nervously fiddling with her wedding ring as she looked outside.
Roberta walked over and put her arm around her. "Don't worry, I won't let any of them get on you. Do you have your keys ready?"
"They're in my purse, in the car."
"It's not locked, is it?"
"No, no, I'm sure it's not."
"Good. Okay, I need both hands to use the fire extinguisher, so if you'll open the door, we'll head on out."
Mrs. Baine opened the door and the two of them quickly stepped outside. Roberta immediately sprayed the sidewalk in front of them, knocking several ants away with the yellow foam.
Several more ants began scurrying toward them.
Roberta sprayed those away as they moved off the sidewalk into the parking lot, keeping as close together as possible. More ants followed. "My God, look at the way they're coming at us," Roberta said. "Ants don't do that, do they?"
"Several people have died from ant bites this year," Mrs. Baine noted, as Roberta sprayed one that was mere inches from her foot.
"I heard that on the news, but I didn't hear anything about ants being so big."
Mrs. Baine was moving with surprising speed and agility for somebody her age, but Roberta still wished she'd pick up the pace. The ants seemed to be all over the grocery store parking lot as well, and most of the cars had at least two or three crawling on them. Where had they come from all of a sudden?
"Which one's yours?" asked Roberta.
"The blue Plymouth, right there."
Roberta missed one of the ants with the fire extinguisher spray, and stomped on it as hard as she could. Mrs. Baine let out a yelp and frantically brushed something off her back. "One's on me!"
"Turn around!"
Mrs. Baine did so.
"You're okay, there's nothing there." Roberta stomped another ant.
"I can feel it!"
"No, it's just your imagination. C'mon, we need to keep moving."
They hurried over to her car. Roberta sprayed an ant off the door, and then opened it, grateful that Mrs. Baine had been correct about the door being unlocked. Mrs. Baine quickly got inside, and Roberta slammed the door shut.
She realized that an ant was crawling up her leg, screamed, and quickly brushed it away.
Mrs. Baine started her engine and backed out of the parking space as Roberta rushed back toward the office. She threw open the door, ran inside, and pulled the door shut.
"Are you okay? Did you get stung?" asked Agnes.
"I'm fine," Roberta said, dropping the fire extinguisher and frantically brushing phantom ants off her body. "Did you _see_ those things? What in God's name is going on?"
"I don't know, but I think we need to get out of here," said Agnes.
"You'd better believe we need to get out of here. Those things are going crazy. You'd better shut down for the evening."
While Agnes went back to her desk, Roberta watched through the door, praying that Mrs. Baine would make it out of there safely. She was driving slowly through the parking lot ... and then the car stopped.
Mrs. Baine was swatting at something.
Roberta picked up the fire extinguisher and prepared to rush outside again, but then the car resumed moving. She watched until Mrs. Baine was out of sight, then, satisfied, set down the fire extinguisher again and walked back down the hallway.
"Dr. Ruiz...?"
"Everything's good, yes?"
"Actually, no. I don't know what's going on, but there are ants all over the place outside. Big ones. I think we should get out of here."
Dr. Ruiz gave her an amazed look. "I don't think our patient would appreciate a half-finished root canal."
Zachary grunted his agreement.
"I know, but there are lots of them out there, and they're two inches long, and they're hostile."
"Hostile?"
Roberta nodded. "They kept coming after me and Mrs. Baine. I don't know what's going on out there, but it's really scary and we need to get out of here."
"You're playing a joke, yes?"
"No. No joke."
Dr. Ruiz held his fingers a quarter-inch apart. "Ants are little things."
"Not these."
"Check in back for a really big magnifying glass. We'll burn them."
"Dr. Ruiz, I'm serious! They're all over the parking lot! Who knows where else they might be? How do you even know your grandchildren are safe?"
Dr. Ruiz glared at her. "Not funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny."
"All right. We'll go. But I can't leave Mr. Davidson like this. We'll finish up quickly and go."
Zachary grunted something.
"No, not too quickly," Dr. Ruiz assured him. "Your tooth will be fine. Roberta, tell Agnes to call my grandchildren."
* * *
*-CHAPTER SIX-*
"Be careful," said Patricia.
"That's part of the plan," Joe assured her, carefully taking a step forward. As long as he didn't disturb any of the ant mounds, he should be able to just walk across the clearing, pick up Andy, and carry him back to safety without any problems.
"Is Andy going to be okay?" asked Michelle, sniffling.
"Of course he is," said Patricia, scooping her daughter up into her arms. "Daddy will get him."
Only fifty feet. Even if the ants launched an all-out assault on him, Joe should be able to make it fifty feet and back without anything bad happening.
"Why are they so big?" asked Andy, as Joe continued walking forward.
"No idea."
"Is it radiation?"
"I'm sure it's not radiation. Maybe they just have big ants out in the woods. I don't know much about them."
"Will they sting?" Andy asked, his voice cracking.
"I'm not going to let them sting you," Joe promised. "Now don't talk. We don't want to make them mad."
He was about halfway across the clearing. An ant scurried over his foot, but then went on its way. No problem. Soft steps, take it slow, don't freak out, and everything would be perfectly fine.
Another ant crawled up on his shoe, but this one didn't leave.
Joe's first instinct was to try to shoo it away like a dog, but of course that would be ridiculous. He stood motionless, waiting for it to crawl off his foot and go away.
It didn't move.
"What's wrong?" asked Patricia.
He glanced over his shoulder and quietly shushed her.
The ant crawled up toward the top of his shoe.
Very slowly, Joe lifted his leg, bringing it up close enough that he could swat the ant off with his hand.
The ant crawled off his shoe and under his pant leg.
Joe let out an involuntary whimper.
If he jostled it, the ant would probably sting him. He'd been stung by the regular variety of red ants on numerous occasions, and had absolutely no desire to discover what the sting of the deluxe version felt like.
The ant dropped off his leg onto the ground.
Joe wanted to stomp on it, but didn't dare. Instead, he resumed moving forward toward his son.
"It's going to be okay," he whispered, more for his own reassurance than Andy's.
He picked up his pace a bit.
Finally, he reached the far
end of the clearing. Andy threw his arms around him and began crying.
"Shhhh ... shhhh ... it's fine now," said Joe, running a playful hand through the boy's hair. "C'mon, I'll give you a piggyback ride."
He wiped away Andy's tears with his thumb, and then crouched down to allow the boy to climb up on his back. Once Andy was in place, he headed back toward Patricia and Michelle.
"One safe little boy, coming up," Joe announced.
About ten steps into the clearing, he stopped moving. "Gotta loosen the grip, kiddo," he said. "You're choking me."
"I'm sorry," said Andy.
"That's okay." He stood there for a long moment. "You still haven't loosened your grip."
Andy relaxed his arms a bit. It was still kind of hard to breathe, but he couldn't exactly blame the kid for being terrified. He was pretty close to losing bladder control himself. At least this experience would be better for the kids in the long run than any safety lecture he or Patricia could give them.
"Daddy, be careful," said Andy once they'd reached the halfway point. "Some of them are coming."
Joe swiveled a bit to the right and saw that, indeed, several ants were pouring out of a nearby mound. Maybe it was time to just make a run for it.
With the next step, Joe's foot broke through the dirt and he fell face-first onto the ground.
He let out a loud _oooomph_ as the wind was knocked out of him. Andy and Michelle screamed at the same time.
"Let go of my neck," Joe moaned.
Andy let go of his neck. Joe rolled over on his side, felt a sharp pinch, and then let out a cry of pain as a stinging, burning pain tore through his arm. He lifted his forearm and saw one of the ants clinging to his flesh with its mandibles, its body curled up so its stinger could jab into him repeatedly. It stung him again and again, getting in at least four stings before he ripped it off his arm and threw it aside.
"Andy, get out of here!" he shouted.
Several ants were pouring out of a mound mere inches from Joe's head.
Screaming in terror, Andy got to his feet and ran across the clearing toward his mother and sister.
Another ant stung Joe in the side. Then the leg. Then the stomach.
And suddenly they were swarming him.
He struggled to stand back up, but the stings were so painful that he fell to the ground again.
This time, his face struck the anthill.
He immediately pulled away from it, with five or six ants already hanging from his face by their mandibles. He frantically slapped at his cheeks, chin, and neck, trying to dislodge the insects. He howled in misery.
The ants were stinging him through his tee shirt.
He rolled onto his back and desperately smacked the ants away, even as they began to sting his palms and the back of his hands.
"_Help me_!" he shrieked.
He felt a tight grip on his arm. "Get up!" Patricia pleaded.
Joe tried again, and this time with Patricia holding onto his arm he was able to pull himself to a standing position. He shrieked again. There were ants all over his body, dozens of them.
He and Patricia stumbled forward, until she screamed in pain as well. She gave Joe's arm a sharp tug to get him to move faster, but this only caused him to tumble to the ground yet again, bringing her with him.
He could hear Andy and Michelle screaming and sobbing.
More ants swarmed over Joe's body, and he began to flail around, frantically trying to get them off. One of them was stinging his lower lip. His body felt like somebody had completely doused him with gasoline and touched him with an open flame.
Patricia writhed on the ground next to him, also covered with the stinging ants. Her arms, legs, and face were a mass of red welts. And more ants kept joining the others.
Joe made one more attempt to get to his feet, but this time he wasn't able to so much as sit up. He continued to beat at the insects, crushing some under his fists but barely making a dent in their numbers.
He looked over at Patricia, who was so heavily covered in ants that he could barely recognize her. She was on her stomach, trying to crawl to safety, but making virtually no progress.
Joe let out one last piercing, agonized scream as the ants completely overwhelmed him.
* * * *
As she watched her father's ant-ridden body go limp, Michelle grabbed Andy's hand and tried to pull him away.
"Let's go!" she shouted.
"They're killing Mommy and Daddy!" her brother wailed.
"It's too late! We have to run or they'll kill us too!"
It was true. Several of the ants were making their way toward them. More than several, actually. Maybe hundreds.
"We have to save them!" Andy insisted.
"We can't save them! We've got to _go_!"
She yanked on Andy's arm, as hard as she possibly could. Her brother let out a tortured cry, but then followed her as the children rushed back through the path toward the campsite, screaming in terror.
* * *
*-CHAPTER SEVEN-*
Trevor decided not to mention the ants to anybody as he returned to his cubicle. Best to just sit down, get his work done, and start enjoying his weekend. Maybe he'd stop by the video store on the way home and rent a copy of _Them!_
About ten minutes later, Jack Lacefield stopped by his desk. Jack was in his early twenties and tried to compensate for a naturally unattractive face with stylish clothing and attitude. The stylish clothing part he had down pretty well, but the attitude needed work.
"Hiya, Trev, how's it hanging?"
"Low and to the east."
"Good man, good man. Any big plans for the ol' holiday weekend?"
"Not really. Just working on my book."
"Ah, yeah, the book. I get an autographed copy when you're rich and famous, right?"
"Absolutely."
"Good man, good man. Hey, pull my finger."
"I'm not going to pull your finger."
"Come on, be a pal, pull my finger."
"Pull your own finger."
"I'm not gonna do anything, just pull my finger."
"No."
"I'll give you a buck."
"Fine." Trevor pulled his finger. Jack let out an obnoxiously loud belch, then burst into laughter.
"You thought I was going to fart, didn't you?"
"Yes, Jack, that's exactly what I thought. You sure fooled me."
"You need to put that in your book."
"Where's my dollar?"
"I fooled you there, too." Jack burst into laughter again.
"Here, pull this finger," said Trevor, flipping him the bird.
"Good one, good one. You got me." Jack's eyes widened. "Dude, don't move."
"Why, what's wrong?"
"I'm not playing around, but there's a big-ass ant on your chair."
Trevor leapt out of the chair and began brushing off his shirt. "Is it still there?"
"It's on the armrest. That's not a real one, is it?"
The ant crawled off the armrest and onto the seat.
"Wow, that thing is gigantic," Jack observed. "I wonder where it came from?"
"There were a couple of them outside," Trevor told him.
"Well, I'm glad you were generous enough to bring them inside to share with the rest of us. Jeez, that thing must have escaped from a zoo or something."
"What are you two babbling about?" asked Moni, stepping outside of her cubicle.
"Come over here and see this," Jack said.
Moni walked over as Jack pointed to the chair. "What is that, a toy?" she asked.
"It's a real ant."
"Yeah, right."
The ant crawled off the seat, fell to the floor, and crawled underneath Trevor's desk.
"Uh-oh," said Jack. "You may want to watch where you put your feet." Jack looked at Trevor more closely and raised an eyebrow. "Dude, what's with your socks?"
Trevor realized that his socks were still pulled up over his pant legs and crouched down to fix them, embarrassed. "
It was because I was looking for the ants," he explained.
