by Jeff Strand
Hack got in the driver's side, pulled the door closed, and smashed his open palm against an ant that was crawling up his leg. "Any other ones in here?"
Slash used the heel of his shoe to crush an ant on the toe of his other shoe. "I don't think so."
"Well _look_!"
"Don't yell at me, you ignorant little moron. I'm not the one who shot the cashier and started this whole problem."
"Oh, yeah, that's right, I shot the kid at the register and so these ants were sent to punish humanity for my sins."
"That's not what I meant," snapped Slash. "I meant that if you hadn't shot the kid, we'd have been out of the store before any of this ant crap started!"
"Robbing the store was your idea in the first place!"
"But we weren't supposed to kill anybody!"
"If you hadn't..." Hack trailed off. "We just need to get out of here."
"Well, no shit."
During the fight, Dustin kept watching for one of them to relax their grip on their weapons, but it didn't happen. He looked through the back window at Louise. She was still fighting the ants, but they had her completely covered.
"Listen to me," said Dustin. "There's no reason to keep me around. Do you think anybody is interested in a couple of bank robbers right now? Come on. That woman doesn't deserve to die like that. Let me out of her so I can help her."
"How about ... no?" said Slash.
"You don't need a hostage anymore! Nobody cares. I'm just going to get in your way. Let me go so maybe I can help out!"
Slash shook his head. "Nope. Maybe the cops won't be looking for us for a while, but I'd have to be crazy not to stick with the ant expert. Hell, for all I know you had something to do with this whole mess. Seems like a pretty big coincidence that you just happen to be in town when the ants come out to play."
"That's right," said Hack. "Man, we couldn't have picked a better hostage, could we? So what do you know about all this, Bug Boy?"
"I don't know anything," said Dustin. "But I might know where to find somebody who does. Do you know where Trexler Road is?"
"Yeah."
"Then take me there."
Hack let out a snort of laughter. "What do you think, I'm your chauffeur all of a sudden?"
"We have no idea how far this ant thing has spread," said Dustin. "Even a couple of psychos like you two have _somebody_ in this city you care about, right?"
"No, not really," said Hack.
"And maybe it's not just this city. But I think it's a little unusual that an expert on _Solenopsis Invicta_ shows up in town the same day we have a mass swarm of them, almost ten times their usual size."
"_Sole_-what?"
"Red fire ants. And if you don't take me where I need to go, it won't be long before you find out how they got that name."
Hack and Slash exchanged a look.
"I think we can manage that," Hack said.
* * *
*-CHAPTER SEVENTEEN-*
Roberta froze.
There were ants crawling over her entire body. In her hair, on her arms, down the back of her shirt. At least two of them were on her face. She stood there, arms outstretched, not moving a muscle.
"Don't move," said Dr. Ruiz in a whisper. "Nobody make any noise. We'll get them off you, I promise."
Roberta let out an involuntary whimper as an ant crawled across her neck.
Dr. Ruiz began to unbutton his white shirt, revealing a comical yellow undershirt with a smiley face underneath. Keeping his eyes focused on Roberta, Zachary stripped off his own tee shirt. With Dr. Ruiz one step ahead, the two men very cautiously moved toward her.
"Just stay calm," Dr. Ruiz whispered.
Mentally, Roberta was as far from staying calm as she could possibly be. But paralyzing fear did occasionally have its advantages.
Dr. Ruiz carefully began to use his shirt to wipe the ants off of her face, while Zachary went to work on her shoulders.
"It's going to be fine, yes? No problems here."
Several ants fell to the floor, but Roberta could feel them crawling right back up onto her legs. She wanted to let Dr. Ruiz know this, but didn't dare move her lips to speak.
"Very good, very good," whispered Dr. Ruiz. "This will all be over before you know it. Not even as bad as a filling."
Zachary stepped back. "This isn't workin'. We have to kill 'em or they're just gonna keep comin' back."
Dr. Ruiz shook his head. "They'll sting her." He carefully brushed off the ant that was on Roberta's throat.
"Do you have anything we can spray?" Zachary asked. "Somethin' that'll hit them all at once?"
"No, nothing," said Dr. Ruiz. He looked down. "You're right, this isn't working."
The weight of the ants on Roberta's arms suddenly became almost overbearing, as if each one weighed ten pounds. She wanted to whisper for Dr. Ruiz and Zachary to just go, get themselves someplace safe, but she still couldn't force herself to move her lips.
Zachary turned around and hurried back toward the waiting room.
"It will be okay, I promise you, yes?" said Dr. Ruiz, continuing to gently brush off the ants. "I'll get most of them off, then we can make a run for it."
Roberta felt a tight pinch on her back. Was that a sting? She wasn't sure how much pain to expect, but this seemed milder than she would have anticipated.
Dr. Ruiz briefly bent down and wiped some ants off his own legs. Roberta felt something else drop onto her head, and wondered how many more ants were up in the ceiling, waiting to leap down upon her.
Zachary returned to the hallway, holding the can of root beer Agnes had been drinking. When he reached Roberta, he turned the can upside down and splashed the soda all over the floor. Several of the ants that hadn't yet crawled back onto Roberta scurried toward it.
Dr. Ruiz and Zachary went back to work at brushing the ants off Roberta. Her arms felt like they were going to break off, but she did everything she could to keep them up, even after Dr. Ruiz brushed the last one off her wrist. Lowering them would still move the muscles in her back, and possibly cause the ants to sting.
A couple of ants were crawling back onto her legs, but the majority that fell to the floor seemed distracted by the spilled soda. Dr. Ruiz and Zachary continued brushing off the ants for about a minute, pausing two or three times to brush ants off their own bodies, until Roberta was ant-free.
Almost.
"They're still down the back of my shirt," she whispered, finally daring to speak.
Dr. Ruiz frowned. "How many?"
"At least three. Maybe more."
"Okay, I want you to very slowly walk backwards, yes? Very slowly. No rush."
As slowly as she possibly could, Roberta took a long step backwards.
"Don't slip on the root beer," Zachary warned.
"One more step," said Dr. Ruiz. "You're doing good."
Roberta took another long step, tensing as she felt another pinch. She thanked heaven that her shirt was tightly tucked into her pants so they couldn't crawl any lower.
Dr. Ruiz stepped in front of her, and then very gently placed a hand on each of her shoulders. "Are they all on your back?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Close your eyes."
Roberta did so.
A second later she was suddenly pushed against the wall, firmly but not so violently as to break her back.
Dr. Ruiz pulled her forward again. "Did we get them?"
Roberta felt a slimy moistness as the squished bodies of the ants stuck to her. She stood motionless for a moment, waiting for the creepy sensation of an ant crawling along her skin. "Yes, we got them."
"Then let's go."
Dr. Ruiz turned, quickly stepped forward, then yelped in pain as his foot slipped on a small patch of root beer and twisted. Roberta and Zachary each grabbed one of his arms and hurriedly rushed him into the waiting room.
They set Dr. Ruiz into Agnes' chair. "Are you okay?" Roberta asked.
Dr. Ruiz nodded, though his face was contorted with pain.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid!"
"What did you do?" asked Zachary. "You think it's broken?"
"No, not broken. Maybe sprained."
Zachary cursed. "We can't stick around here. We could try boardin' up that hole in the ceiling, but they'll just break through some other way. That root beer's not gonna distract them forever."
Roberta looked through the glass door. The swarm of ants was even thicker than before. "He's right. We have to get out of here."
"Can you run?" Zachary asked Dr. Ruiz.
Dr. Ruiz nodded. "I'm fine."
Roberta touched his ankle, and Dr. Ruiz winced loudly. "I don't think so," she said. "I'll go grab the first aid kit."
"I can run," Dr. Ruiz insisted. "We can't stay here with those things."
"I've got a better idea," said Zachary. "I'll run out there, get my jeep, and drive it right up to the door. No sense in all three of us dealin' with those bugs, especially with his foot all messed up."
"Are you sure?" asked Roberta.
"No, not really," Zachary admitted, putting his tee shirt back on. "But you probably deserve a break after bein' covered with them."
Roberta shuddered. "A break would be nice."
"Do you have anything else I can wear?" Zachary asked. "This shirt's kinda thin."
Dr. Ruiz held up his own shirt. "Probably not your size."
"No, probably not. But I can smack 'em away with it." Zachary took the shirt from him. "I don't suppose you've got a really huge tooth drill that I can use as a weapon back there, do you?"
Dr. Ruiz smiled. "Sorry."
"Didn't think so." He dug his keys out of his pocket as he walked over to the door. "Now, I'm not bein' a martyr for you two. If you see me get into more trouble than I can handle, you get your butts out here and keep me from sacrificin' myself, got it?"
"Got it," said Roberta.
"And don't keep me waitin' when I get back." Zachary grabbed the door handle, took a moment to prepare himself, and then threw the door open and rushed outside.
* * * *
There had to be thousands of them out here. Zachary ran as fast as he could, crunching the little suckers under his foot with each step. If he just kept moving, they wouldn't have time to get on him, so the only real trick was going to be getting into the jeep.
The government had a lot to answer for on this one. But at least he'd probably be getting a free root canal out of it, which would be nice, considering how little his crappy dental insurance plan covered.
He turned toward the sound of a gunshot from the street. Was somebody actually _shooting_ at the ants? Great. One down, a few million to go. What an idiot.
He sped across the parking lot, nearly tripping as his foot came down upon an uneven rock, but maintaining his balance and making it to the grocery store parking lot and his twelve year-old silver four-door jeep. 237,000 miles and still going strong, mostly because he'd never taken it to some crooked auto repair shop.
Another gunshot from the street. Maybe somebody wasn't able to cope with the idea of being stung to death and took the easy way out.
There were ants all over the door handle. He wiped them off with Dr. Ruiz's shirt, while stomping on the ants that were close to his feet. But there were just too many of them out here. With each sweep of the shirt, more ants immediately appeared to replace those that fell to the ground.
Zachary touched the key to the lock, and then flinched as an ant scurried over the back of his hand.
The keys fell.
Zachary caught them in his other hand.
Then he noticed two men running across the grocery store parking lot towards him. Both of them were bleeding, one from the shoulder, one from the arm. The one with the bleeding shoulder also had a bloody nose.
Had they been shot?
Either way, Zachary quickly returned his attention to unlocking the car door. These guys looked like bad news.
* * *
*-CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-*
Moni, Abigail, Jack, and Mr. Kamerman backed away from the window as the rat-sized ant crawled down the length of the glass and disappeared from sight.
Jack collapsed into a chair. "Whoa."
"Let's not panic," said Abigail. "It's just one ant. We don't know that there are more of them that size out there."
"You're right," Jack agreed. "Let's focus on the thousands of not quite so abnormally large ants waiting outside to kill us."
"I vote we get out of here," said Moni. "Make a run for the parking garage. I have to get back to my husband and find out if he's okay."
"That sounds good to me," said Jack.
Abigail shook her head. "There are too many of them out there. We're much better off here. It's not like the ants downstairs are going to make it up to the fourth floor."
"How can you be sure?" asked Jack.
"Because, Jack, I'm guessing they can't chew through the doors to the stairways or operate an elevator."
"You don't have to get sarcastic," Jack said. "How do we know the entire top of the building isn't crawling with millions of ants like the one on the window? Christ, maybe they can chew through the glass!"
"Ants can't chew through glass," said Abigail.
"Why do you insist on applying the standard rules of ant logic to these things? No, ants don't chew through glass, but they also typically aren't the size of a small dog!"
"It wasn't the size of a small dog."
"You know what I mean."
Mr. Kamerman cleared his throat. "Listen, I appreciate your suggestions, but let's not forget that I'm still the boss here. And I say we go with Abigail's suggestion."
"And just wait for more of those things?" asked Moni.
"There are already more of them than we can handle," said Abigail. "Going outside is suicide. The guard didn't make it out there and neither did Cindy. Why should we be any different?"
"Because we'd be prepared," Moni said.
"How many stings did it take to kill Trevor?" Abigail asked. "One. Just one sting. Do you honestly think you can make it outside and through the parking garage without getting stung even once?"
"It wasn't just one sting," Moni said. "Some ants got on him while we were taking care of Cindy."
"All right, fine. So it wasn't one sting that killed him. It was, however, one sting that left him barely conscious. And when we've got thousands of those things coming at us and we're doing everything we can to keep from being swarmed, being barely conscious is pretty much the same as being dead, don't you agree?"
Moni sighed. "I just don't like the idea of being trapped in here."
"Neither do I," said Abigail. "And I'm not saying that running for the parking garage is out of the question. We're not eliminating any options at this point, and we'll definitely start making preparations to protect ourselves if we _do_ have to run outside. What I'm saying is that at this point, we're safe enough where we are that it's not worth taking the risk of going outside."
"But it's going to keep getting worse."
"Maybe. But there's also a chance that help might arrive. And right now I'd rather hold out on the chance that we'll finally get through to somebody who can rescue us than try to get four people up to the third floor of the parking garage without any of them receiving a single sting. It can't be done."
"You're absolutely right," said Mr. Kamerman. "And again, we don't have a democracy here. So everybody stays."
"With all due respect, sir," said Jack, "I don't think that being head of the Corporate Accounting department means shit right now. If we want to leave, we're going to leave."
"Then leave. More power to you."
"No, we shouldn't split up," said Abigail. "Listen, we don't have to make a decision right this second. At the very least, we know we can't run outside the way we are. We need to gather up jackets, sweaters, anything to protect us from their stingers. And we need duct tape to put around our sleeves, pant legs, and collars to keep those things from getting inside our clothes. And then we need to find anything that we can u
se to fight them off. We can't go outside until that's done anyway, so we might as well hold off on the decision until then."
"I can live with that," said Jack.
Moni nodded her agreement.
