by Matt Shaw
There was no map amongst the pieces of paper remaining in the glove compartment. Just as well, then, that the next right hand turn was also clear of abandoned vehicles. I didn’t say anything as I didn’t want to jinx it. After all - there was still a number of various turns and roads needed before we were home and dry.
“Look!” she said. She sounded nervous. I looked in the direction she was pointing. My heart stopped for a couple of seconds when I noticed what she had seen and I stopped the vehicle to allow myself a couple of seconds to regain my composure.
Across the road, from where we were stopped, was a shop. Its door was closed with a ‘closed’ sign spun around for all who passed by to notice but that wasn’t what Fiona had noticed. She had noticed the window display. Or rather, the lack of window display. That’s not to say it wasn’t present, it’s just that it wasn’t visible. Not from here. Not properly. The window was covered in spiders. From this distance they looked to be different shapes and sizes but none bigger than a fifty pence piece. Thick black bodies with long legs - although, from this distance it was hard to say whether the legs were hairy or smooth. Not that I was desperate to know either way. Never before, thankfully, had I seen such an amass of spiders - in fact, come to think of it, any insect or creature - as I was seeing now and I didn’t want to witness such a sight again.
“What are they doing?” I asked.
Fiona shrugged, “I’m never seen them like that before.”
The spiders were on the window, not moving. They were just standing there as though basking in the early morning sun-light. The freakiest sight I had ever seen. I put my foot down on the accelerator - hard - and sped off down the road. My mind, although partly stuck on the sight I had just witnessed - started to think about what had happened to the town. There still wasn’t any evidence of the army having been here trying to restore peace and keep the creatures at bay - no bullet holes, no fires, no dead bodies...Were those spiders an isolated case or had the town been evacuated and then the spiders came? That would make sense. Had the infestation taken place here - there’d be evidence of a struggle. Had they just migrated here, from wherever the bastards came from...Well, it would be like a ghost town, which it is. Regardless, I don’t plan on stopping and I can only but hope the roads remain clear of obstacles or else I fear our journey would be over before it properly began.
“I don’t have a passport,” said Fiona, suddenly.
“What?”
“I mean, I have one but it’s not with me...You said, we’ll go to yours for a bit and then - if people aren’t able to sort things out - you said we’d head for an airport, or the docks, to try and get a plane or boat. Well, I don’t have a passport. They won’t let me go with you,” she started to sound as though she was beginning to panic.
“It’s fine,” I said, “I’m sure there are lots of people in your position. I know I’m one. I’m pretty sure my passport is out of date but, I think, we’ll be okay. These are special circumstances so...” I cut my own sentence off. When I mentioned boats and planes, back at the camp, they were merely wishful thoughts. The plane that came down - it just dropped out of the sky - I’m pretty sure they won’t be in a hurry to send more up. And the boats - not exactly safe either. What’s to stop the spiders from getting onto those too? I didn’t share my concerns with Fiona. Again I kept them to myself. Why take her hope away too? It was good that at least one of us had some hope - even if it was fading with each passing hour. I wouldn’t take it away prematurely.
The truth of the matter was that I didn’t have a clue as to what we were going to do. Not just us but any of the survivors. This plague of arachnids was devastating to the population. It managed to cause so much destruction within the space of a few hours that I couldn’t see any possible way of surviving it, let alone stopping it. The future was looking bleak, despite my best intentions to remain as positive as the situation allowed for. All I could hope was that this was a government experiment gone horribly wrong. At least, if that was the case, they’d be busy working on a way of putting things right. Maybe they’ve even got a way of fixing things? Fiona did mention that the soldiers were speaking of a ‘fix’...
Ever so slightly, I felt my hopes rise once more.
* * * * *
I turned onto the main road which led the way through to my cul-de-sac. Thankfully the rest of the journey had been event free. We hadn’t even noticed any more of the spiders - not since the ones we had spotted in the shop window in the next town down. It gave me hope that things would be okay at my house, that the spiders hadn’t reached there yet. Neither of us spoke about it though for fear of jinxing it.
The truck stuttered to a stop.
“What’s wrong?” asked Fiona.
“Petrol,” I said solemnly, “we’re out.”
Fiona didn’t say anything as she took onboard my words, “Are we close?”
“Thankfully, yes,” I said, “more or less just round the corner.”
I wasn’t paying any attention to her, or her expression. Instead I was looking out of the various windows of the truck. I was trying to see if I could see anything moving on the sides of the road - not that it mattered had I been able to. It’s not as though we could have stayed in the truck with the vague hope another military convoy went on by - especially given the fact that, since leaving the camp, I hadn’t seen a single human being!
“What’s wrong?” she asked again.
“Nothing, I’m just making sure there’s nothing out there.”
She started to follow my lead by looking out of the window, “Do you see anything?” she asked.
“No.” I turned back to her. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. We’re quite close to where I live now. We’ll get out of the truck and head on to my house. Just head on straight down the middle of the road - keep away from any trees, bushes or even grass verges...Hopefully - we should be able to see them on the concrete...” I breathed in. “I fucking hate spiders.”
The problem with spiders, compared to other bugs, is that they’re so quick. One minute they’re not there and the next, they are. And it’s when they run at you too. You spot them and they suddenly freeze as though they’re playing a game of What’s the time, Mr Wolf? You turn away from them, for a split second, and slowly they start moving again before going back into a full on sprint to wherever they’re trying to reach. Worse still is when they’re of a decent size and you have wooden floors. Not only are they quick but you can hear them tapping along the wooden floor as they run. It’s almost as though each of their eight tiny feet have steel-toe-capped boots on.
My friend once told me that spiders are short sighted. The reason they run and suddenly stop when you see them, according to my friend, is because they haven’t seen you - just as you haven’t seen them. Only when they’re close by and you spot them - and subsequently freak out - do they spot you too and freeze, no doubt in the hope that you don’t trap them under a pint glass or stamp out their miserable existence. I don’t know if my friend is right, or not, and even if they are - it doesn’t make me like spiders any more.
“Ready?” I asked Fiona.
She looked just as scared as I felt but she nodded, signifying that she was also ready.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s get this done as quickly as we can, yeah?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I already knew what it was going to be. Instead I opened the truck door and jumped down onto the hard concrete. As soon as my feet touched the floor, I ran towards the middle of the road - away from the pavements and, more importantly, over hanging trees and grass verges. When I got to the middle of the road, I looked in all directions before turning back to the truck. I waved to Fiona, a gesture - which we hadn’t agreed upon - which was meant to inform her that it was safe for her to follow. Thankfully, despite my lack of instruction, she understood and joined me in the middle of the road.
Once together, we started a brisk jog in the direction of my house. Up until this point - although not the most
active of people - I never actually considered myself to be out of shape. However, a few steps into the job I started to gasp with each footing. Fiona, on the other hand, made it look effortless.
Round the next bend and I could see the turn off for my estate. Still keeping our eyes on our surroundings, I increased our pace - spurred on by the fact that the finish line was so close. Fiona kept by my side.
Not even two minutes later, we were turning into the estate.
“Second right hand turning,” I pointed out between gasps for air.
Whilst keeping an eye out for anything which might have resembled a spider, I couldn’t help but notice how quiet the street was. Most of the drives were empty of cars - no doubt where the homes’ occupants had gone off to work - but not all of them. The drives with cars - those houses were deathly quiet as though empty despite the implication of someone being at home.
“What do you think?” asked Fiona.
I didn’t answer her. Too busy looking around and trying to keep up with her, now that she had edged into the lead slightly. Together, we turned into the small cul-de-sac where my house was situated. Immediately, I froze in the centre of the road.
“What is it?” asked Fiona - who also stopped when I did.
“Emma’s car,” I said, “that’s Emma’s car...She’s home!”
With the help of a second wind, I sprinted towards the house - fishing for the keys in my trouser pocket as I did so. Gone were the thoughts of spiders, and the dangers they presented. Taken over, by thoughts of my family taking refuge in the house - waiting for me to get back to them.
I unlocked the front door in the quickest time possible and stepped into the house with Fiona close behind. I didn’t close the door, instead I left that to my guest. Probably not very friendly of me but...I stopped dead in the hallway at the sound of laughter. And voices - coming from the television set in the lounge.
Could it be?
I looked at Fiona. She urged me to see what was in the lounge, “Go on...I’m right behind you...”
Cautiously, and nervously, I walked over to the lounge door. I reached towards the handle with my shaking left hand unsure of what I was going to find on the other side of the door. A slow, nervous twist of the handle and I pushed the door open.
“DADDY!!!” my daughters spotted me instantly and called out my name with excitement.
I couldn’t help but burst into tears as I dashed towards them for a hug - not that I got far before they both ran into my open arms. The scene in the lounge was a million miles away from the scenes we had witnessed outside. The curtains were open, allowing the early morning sunlight the opportunity to spill into the room. The plasma television, hanging on the wall, was on playing their favourite DVD for the hundredth time. There were even some breakfast bowls, with half-eaten cereal, sitting on the small coffee table in the centre of the living room space.
“Mummy said we could have the day off school!” said Rebecca when I released my tight embrace. She had spotted Fiona standing in the doorway, watching our happy reunion with a tear in her eye.
“That’s okay, I have a day off too!” said Fiona.
“Why are you crying?” Hannah asked.
“Oh, I just missed my girls...How have you been? Where’s your mummy?”
“She’s upstairs in bed,” said Hannah. “We got our own cereal but saved her some milk for her cup of tea...”
“Well - that’s nice of you,” I said.
I turned back to Fiona, as the girls went back to their bowls of cereal, and asked her, “Do you mind just keeping an eye on them for a minute?”
“Not at all,” she said. She walked into the room and sat down on the sofa.
I thanked her and left the room, whilst wiping the tears from my eyes, to make my way up the stairs to see my wife. “I won’t be long,” I told her.
“It’s fine,” she said.
I hurried up the stairs towards our bedroom. My mind was racing with all the various things I had to say to Emma; I love her, I missed her - things which would show her that I cared despite the ‘cocky’ and arrogant front I had put on for all these years.
Halfway up the stairs and I heard a loud bump from behind the bedroom’s closed door.
“You okay?” I called out. I reached the top and quickly twisted the handle before pushing the door open. I stopped dead when I saw my wife standing by the window, looking out into the street. I couldn’t see her face but I knew, instantly, that something was very much wrong. “Honey?”
She groaned and lightly bumped her head into the bedroom window.
“Honey?” I called out again. “Are you okay?”
Slowly she turned around to me. I gasped out loud when I saw the look on her face. Her pretty face, distorted with pain. Her eyes seemingly rolling into the back of her head. Her mouth agape with her tongue visibly lolling around inside.
“Emma...?” I took a step back as a feeling of fear and worry crept through my body.
She took a few unsteady steps towards me, still groaning, and it was then that I noticed the spider on her arm. It wasn’t moving. It was just sitting there with its legs stretched in such a way it appeared as though it was readying itself to make a sudden jump or dash. She groaned again as her arms flopped by her sides. I took another step back as her groans increased in volume. By now I was standing back on the landing. I put my hand on the door, ready to slam it shut if Emma suddenly made a run towards me.
Suddenly her left eye rolled back around as though it was trying to focus on me but it wasn’t. I knew that now. My wife was already gone. The cloudy appearance of the reticle proved that to me.
What happened next sickened me to my stomach and filled me with a level of terror I had never experienced before nor wish to experience again.
D A Y T H R E E
D E S T I N A T I O N U N K N O W N
“Honey?”
I knew she wasn’t going to answer me. The look on her face clearly showing the lights were on but no one was home. She lurched forward, towards me, again with her right foot awkwardly leading her left which dragged behind as though the brain’s signals weren’t quite reaching it properly.
My hand was still on the door, ready to slam it shut but unable to. A morbid, horrified, curiosity kept me watching to see what she was going to do next.
“Honey?” I called out to her again wishing she’d answer me normally. Wishing, more than anything, that she was playing a cruel and sick joke - perhaps a way of testing my love for her? She wants to see if I’d get upset if she were a zombie?
Her left shoulder hunched up at a strange angle forcing a crack from the uncomfortable looking joint. Her right shoulder did the same. A louder groan from the back of her throat, followed by a hiss which escaped her pursed lips. Lips which slowly started to part, with another groan escaping at the same time.
I stumbled back when I realised what I was witnessing. From out of her mouth - legs first followed by the black body of a strange looking spider. One, to begin with, quickly followed by more. They left her mouth and crawled onto her face - her cheeks, her chin - anywhere really where there was room for them to be able to freely move.
I wanted to desperately slam the door shut. I wanted to run from the house taking the children and Fiona with me yet I didn’t. I just remained standing there - watching, in horror, as more spiders emerged from her nostrils where they then, quickly, joined the other spiders on her skin; her skin which was fast becoming a writhing, black mass of arachnid.
I couldn’t contain my scream any longer when I saw them push past her eyeballs. Tears of spiders formed as the eyeball rolled, pushed from side to side as the spiders forced their way past it. My body came to its senses and slammed the door shut.
“Everything okay up there?” Fiona called up from the bottom of the stairs.
“Grab the children!” I yelled as I started to hurry down the flight of stairs.
Fiona didn’t waste any time with stupid questions. She hurried through to t
he lounge and grabbed the kids - both of whom looked scared when they appeared in the doorway to the hallway.
“Come on, kids!” I said. I tried to keep my voice upbeat and optimistic but I’m sure my expression betrayed the fear which was surging from every pore of my body. “We’re going on a road trip!” I continued.
As I ushered them towards the front door, pushing them out before I ventured out myself, I heard a bang from upstairs. I wasn’t sure whether Emma was trying to get out of the bedroom or whether her empty shell of a body had dropped to the floor. I tried not to think about it. As I followed Fiona out of the door, I closed it behind me.
