by Jeff Strand
He'd made it to the car without getting stung, but he couldn't count on that again. He needed something to distract the ants.
Such as a dead body.
He reached down and pulled the seat release lever, then brought the passenger seat down as far as it would go. Making sure not to the jostle the baby any more than absolutely necessary, he climbed over the seat into the front of the car. The passenger side door was blocked by one of the abandoned cars, but there was just enough room on the driver's side for Dustin to open the door and push the dead woman outside.
Dustin prayed that the baby would never remember what he did to its mother.
He leaned over, arm accidentally sliding across the woman's wet forehead, and reached for the door handle.
Then he noticed in the rear-view mirror that the semi was moving. A red Saturn in front of it was being pushed forward as the panicked passengers tried to escape from their vehicle. Dustin turned around to get a better look, and saw that the driver of the semi looked crazed, terrified, as if he'd decided that he was getting out of there, no matter what.
Dustin pulled his hand away from the door handle. No time for a distraction.
The front corner of the Saturn crashed into the car next to it, pushing the car up on its side as it struck the curb and the semi continued moving forward.
Dustin put his hand over the baby's face, then raised his legs and slammed them against the cracked windshield. The glass held. He could see the semi headed straight for him in the rear-view mirror, the Saturn in front of it now turned sideways, slowing the semi's progress but not stopping it. Sparks flew as the Saturn scraped against the side of a truck in the intersection.
The windshield shattered as Dustin slammed it a second time. The sight of the semi and the helpless car it was pushing now filled the entire rear-view mirror.
Pressing the squirming and screaming baby to his chest with one hand, Dustin climbed out through the broken windshield, wincing as his leg tore against a chunk of glass still attached to the frame. A superficial wound, but painful. He crawled out onto the hood of the car as the semi barreled down upon them.
He jumped.
The Saturn smashed into the car just as Dustin leapt from the hood. The semi kept moving, partially crushing the Saturn between the two vehicles. Dustin landed, lost his balance, and stumbled forward.
Then he fell.
He twisted his body just in time, keeping himself from landing on the baby. He landed on his back, squishing several ants beneath him, and then realized that the semi was starting to tip.
Before he could even sit up, twenty or thirty ants crawled onto his body.
The driver, obviously too far gone to realize that he was going to topple his vehicle, didn't let up on the gas, and the semi continued to tilt toward Dustin.
At least having the semi come down on him would be a more merciful fate than being stung to death by the ants. He held the baby tightly against him.
Then a huge rush of cold water washed over him.
The semi was now at a forty-five degree angle, and began its downward descent.
As the ants were carried away by the water, Dustin frantically scooted back as the shadow of the falling semi covered him.
The side of the semi read "Hansen Pillow Factory."
Dustin's spine struck the curb.
He tightly pulled in his knees as the semi crashed onto its side, coming less than three inches from crushing his feet. The sound was almost deafening.
He just sat there for a moment, unable to believe he was actually alive. Then the baby was snatched out of his hands and he looked behind him to see a guy and a girl, both about eighteen or nineteen, standing by an open fire hydrant. A pair of motorcycles was parked on the sidewalk next to them.
"You can't hold a baby like that!" said the girl, cradling it. "But you did good saving it."
"Thanks."
"We need to _flood_ these things, man!" said the guy. "Open every fire hydrant in the city!"
Dustin got to his feet. That sure would have made getting the baby out of the car easier. He gave himself a mental kick in the rear for not thinking of that.
"Listen to me," he said. "I need to borrow one of your motorcycles."
"No way!"
"It's urgent! I think I know who caused this, and I need to find him as soon as possible."
"Yeah, right," said the guy. "We're not giving up our transportation. Get your own motorcycle."
Dustin considered offering them money, but he only had a few dollars in his wallet, and it was unlikely that they'd give up their motorcycles for any price. Wonderful. The kids had saved his life, and now he was going to have to turn into a mugger.
He took out Slash's gun and pointed it at them. "I need your motorcycle."
"Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"
"I'm sorry, I just have to take it," Dustin said. "You can still share the other one. And I'll make it up to you." He looked at the girl. "You'll take the baby someplace safe, right?"
She nodded as she glared at him.
Keeping the gun pointed at them, Dustin mounted one of the motorcycles. He hadn't driven one of these things in years, but they were like a bicycle, right? A bicycle with the potential to smear your face across two blocks of pavement if you weren't careful.
"Try not to split your head open," said the guy in a bitter voice.
"I'm really sorry about this," said Dustin, starting up the engine. "Be careful out here."
"Kiss my ass."
Dustin drove down the sidewalk, wobbling a bit for the first few seconds and accidentally dropping the gun. He could hear the guy running toward the unloaded weapon so he sped off, wishing he'd been cruel enough to steal one of their helmets.
* * *
*-CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE-*
"Just what in the world is that guy doin'?" asked Zachary. Roberta leaned forward and watched as the semi smashed into the car in front of it. "This ain't a demolition derby!"
"Wish I was in one of those things," said Dave. The gauze he'd been holding to his nose was completely soaked with blood, so Roberta took it from him and gave him a new wad. "Plowing through this traffic might not be such a bad idea."
Hack nudged Dave in the side and pointed excitedly. "Look! It's him!"
"Who?" Roberta asked.
"Some guy we were with," said Dave. "He's an ant expert."
"We need to go pick him up!" Hack insisted.
"What for?" asked Zachary. "What's his expertise gonna tell us? Ants are bad?"
"Listen," Dave began, "if anybody knows how to get out of here without getting killed, it's that guy. He even knew the scientific name of these things. _Solenap Vicar_ or something. My friend is right, we need to go get him."
"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but there's no way we're gettin' through this traffic to pick him up. You're welcome to run out there and invite him to join us, if you'd like."
Roberta noticed that Dr. Ruiz wasn't moving. She reached over the seat and patted him on the shoulder. "Dr. Ruiz? Are you okay?"
Dr. Ruiz nodded and continued staring out the window.
"Are you sure?"
He didn't respond.
"Oh my God. Zachary, make sure he's okay."
"I'm kind of tryin' to drive."
"Zachary, _please_!"
Zachary stopped the car and tapped Dr. Ruiz on the cheek. "Hey, you still with us?"
"I'm fine," said Dr. Ruiz in a weak voice. "My leg."
"What about your leg?"
"Hurts."
"Which one?"
Dr. Ruiz lifted his right leg a bit. As Zachary leaned over to examine it, Roberta saw the semi start to topple.
"Hey, Zach, you may want to see this," said Hack.
Zachary looked over the dashboard just as the semi fell onto its side. "Sweet Jesus!"
"Did it get him?" asked Hack. "Did the ant expert get crushed?"
"I don't know!" said Dave. "Looks like it got his legs!"
"Jesus!" Zachary
repeated, and then he leaned back down. Roberta watched as he pulled up Dr. Ruiz's pant leg, revealing a red welt. "Oh, cripes, one of them got him."
Roberta felt a sudden influx of tears, but remained calm. "Are there any more stings?"
Zachary lifted his pant leg higher. "I don't see any." He looked at Dr. Ruiz. "Does it hurt anyplace else?"
Dr. Ruiz shook his head.
Outside, the guy Dave and Hack were concerned about got up and started talking to a couple of people on the sidewalk. Zachary sat back up. "I have no idea how bad the venom from just one ant is, but I think we should get him to a hospital. He's not looking good."
"Forget the hospital," said Dave. "We -- "
Zachary cut him off. "Did anybody ask for your opinion?"
"Let me finish. The insect expert, he's got some kind of antidote. I got stung myself and he just pricked me with some little thing and said it would take care of the poison."
"Where's the sting?" asked Zachary.
Dave pointed to his bloody shoulder. "Not a good day for this part of my body, is it? We need to follow that guy. Look, he's getting on a motorcycle, we've got to hurry!"
"What do you think?" Zachary asked Roberta.
"Follow him."
Zachary nodded and resumed driving across the parking lot, weaving around the other cars that were doing the same thing.
"You're going to be fine," said Roberta, gently rubbing the back of Dr. Ruiz's neck. "One little ant sting isn't going to hurt anybody. We'll find the ant expert, and he'll fix you right up, okay?"
"Maybe I'll ... trade him a..." Dr. Ruiz trailed off, apparently unable to think of a punch line for what was certainly going to be one of his usual jokes.
"Hey, you need to stay awake," said Roberta, shaking him just a bit. "You don't want to miss any of the excitement, do you? What about your grandchildren? You want to see your grandchildren again, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Then you need to stay alert, try to fight off whatever's in your system. Your grandkids could do it. Didn't you tell me that one of them could climb any tree you put in front of her?"
"Maria," Dr. Ruiz said.
"Maria, right. Maria wouldn't let some little ant sting keeping her from climbing trees, would she? Not a chance. You don't want her to think her grandfather is just some big sissy, do you? You still want to take her on the roller coasters, don't you? You need to stay awake so you can listen to her scream as you go down that first hill."
"Is staying awake really going to change anything?" asked Hack.
Roberta shot him an incredibly dirty look. "Shut up."
"No problem."
Ahead, the guy on the motorcycle turned right onto one of the side streets. Hack pointed at the turn. "Don't lose him!"
"I'm not gonna lose him," said Zachary.
"Dr. Ruiz?" Roberta asked. "Dr. Ruiz? Talk to me!"
There was no answer.
"Check his pulse," said Zachary, bouncing everyone in the jeep as he drove over a concrete divider.
Roberta grabbed Dr. Ruiz's arm and pressed her thumb to his wrist. "I can't tell ... wait, it's there but it's weak."
"He'll die if we don't catch up to the ant expert," Dave pointed out.
"Do you think you could drive any better?" Zachary asked. "I could've just left you two to bleed to death by the dentist's office, or to get devoured by those ants."
"I was just making an observation!"
"Well keep your observations to yourself in my jeep."
"I'll do that. But if he dies, I think everybody will know whose fault it is."
"Shut up, both of you!" Roberta snapped. "It doesn't do any good to argue! But Zachary, _please_ catch up to him. I'm not sure how much time Dr. Ruiz has left."
Hack snorted. "Way to keep up the doc's morale."
* * *
*-CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR-*
April Malloe sat petrified in the center of her waterbed as more and more ants poured in through her doorway. They were crawling up the walls and on the ceiling, and though her hands were covered with a thick layer of ant guts she knew there were only so many more she could kill before they finally got her.
If only her older brother hadn't walked in on her and Norman last week, she wouldn't be dying a virgin.
* * * *
Franklin Haight knew that both of his legs had been broken when the bookshelf came down on them. Even if he could get his legs out from under the shelf, there was no way he could get away from the ants before they killed him like they had his roommate. As they swarmed him, he softly sang his favorite Beatles' tune, "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band," at least until the ants found their way into his mouth.
* * * *
The employees at Andrew's Steak House were miserably cold in the walk-in freezer, but they were playing Truth or Dare to distract themselves from the horror outside. The last thing Sonya Robinson wanted to do in this cold was take off her shirt, but she had chosen "dare" knowing what kind of filth her co-workers always had on their minds, so it was nobody's fault but her own.
* * * *
Eugene Pendelton had moved to Tampa exactly eight hours and fifty-six minutes ago, and couldn't help but think that it had been a poorly timed move. But at least he didn't have to sit through any more earthquakes.
* * * *
He'd left her. She couldn't believe he'd left her.
Mike had screamed for her to get back on the bicycle, but it wasn't her fault she hadn't been able to hold on. And he hadn't given her more than a few seconds to get up before he rode off without her.
As the ants covered her, she derived no small amount of pleasure from the sight of Mike falling off his bike before he even reached the end of the block, and screaming as the ants got him.
* * * *
Cheryl Stokes threw the chair through the window of the bakery and ducked inside.
Screw the diet.
* * *
*-CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE-*
"Have you ever shot one of those things before?" asked Jack as Moni returned moments later with the loaded crossbow.
"Never."
"So what makes you think you aren't going to hit him in the face?"
"Nothing."
"Uh, okay."
"Do you want to do it?" Moni asked.
"No, no, I'd hit him for sure."
The ant was still crawling on Mr. Kamerman's face. Winnie was completely pale, sweating profusely, and hadn't moved a muscle. Keeping her distance, about ten feet away, Moni walked around so that she could get a better angle, then lifted the crossbow and took careful aim.
Her hands were wobbling, so she tensed the muscles as much as she could. Even then, they continued to wobble a bit, but she'd just have to do the best she could.
Mr. Kamerman didn't even turn his head, although she could see his eyes darting in her direction.
She thought the ant had turned its own head toward her, but she couldn't be sure. She wondered if it knew what she was trying to do.
If it did, Mr. Kamerman would probably be dead already.
She closed one eye and lined the tip of the arrow up to the ant's abdomen. This would be just like shooting mice with a BB gun back on her cousin's farm, except that she hadn't visited her cousin in about fifteen years, and she hadn't actually shot any mice herself, and she'd run inside crying after her cousin fired the first BB.
She wished that the fire alarm would shut off. The noise was making it difficult to concentrate.
Jack watched, mouth open, one of his eyebrows twitching.
She pulled the trigger.
The arrow struck the ant in the thorax and slammed into the wall, taking the ant with it.
Jack began to applaud wildly, as Mr. Kamerman released all of his pent-up tension in the form of a girlish shriek.
"I can't _believe_ you hit that thing!" Jack shouted. "You could never make that shot again in a million years! I thought he was gonna end up looking like something out of an old Steve Martin act!"
; Moni let the crossbow drop to the floor, ran for the nearest cubicle, and promptly threw up in the recycling bin.
