by Matt Shaw
“What about mummy?” Rebecca asked.
“She’s having a nap,” I lied. I sensed Fiona was looking at me but didn’t dare look her in the face. I knew, seeing her sympathy, I wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears. Can’t cry. Mustn’t cry. The girls have never seen me weep and, if I were to, I’m sure they’d know something was wrong. Worse still, they’d get upset too. “Towards the car,” I continued to usher them towards Emma’s car, which was parked up on the driveway.
Good as gold, the girls ran towards the back doors. Hannah was the first to realise they were locked, “Let us in, daddy!”
Shit.
I patted down my trousers pockets out of habit but I knew the keys weren’t there.
Shit, shit, shit!
I looked at Fiona; panic in my eyes. I shook my head.
“We can’t go back in there,” I whispered to her. “It’s not safe...”
Fiona gasped when she happened to glance upwards. I followed her line of vision and was shocked to see the bedroom window was a shimmering mass of tiny black bodies - all seemingly jostling around to try and get the best sun-spot.
“What are they doing?” Fiona asked - still, thankfully, in a hushed voice.
“Daddy! Let us in!” Rebecca called over from the car again. Neither of the girls had noticed what Fiona and I had seen, not that I wanted them to see. At this stage, I wasn’t sure how much they may have already witnessed. Regardless of whether they had witnessed the true extent of the horror outbreak in the city, I didn’t want them to witness further images that may cause them alarm.
“Be right there,” I told her despite being completely at a loss as to what to do.
“Look,” Fiona nodded in the direction of my neighbour’s house, “top window too.” Their window was in the same state as my own bedroom window. Hundreds of spiders giving the false impression of looking at a tinted window. “And that window,” she nodded towards another house.
A quick glance around the other houses in the cul-de-sac painted a similar picture. In fact, only one house didn’t have anything sinister in the windows. The house in the corner of the road, tucked back ever so slightly from the other buildings. Added bonus, there was a car in the driveway too.
I turned to the girls, “Wait here with Fiona. I’m just popping to the neighbours to ask them something and then we’re going to get going.”
“Can I get my doll from my bedroom?” Hannah asked. “I accidentally left her in there.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie, stupid daddy has locked us out of the house.”
“But if we knock, mummy can come and let us in.”
“She’s asleep,” I lied, “because she has a headache. Besides, you won’t need your doll. I can’t tell you why because it’s a surprise but trust me!” I gave her a smile and turned to Fiona, “Sorry but can you watch....”
She cut me off mid-sentence, “Just go. Be careful,” she said.
I didn’t say anything as I turned towards my neighbours’ house and started the walk up their driveway. My eyes were fixed on the windows I could see - ready to abandon the whole thing if I even saw a hint of trouble, or danger. Once at the front door I glanced in through the lounge window. I don’t know why but I half expected to see the television on and my neighbours both sitting there, watching whatever was playing. The room looked empty, though. My attention turned to the front door. I carefully lifted the letterbox flap - a part of me worried that something may jump out at my face which, thankfully didn’t happen.
Inside, I couldn’t see any signs of trouble nor could I hear anyone moving around. I gently tapped on the door - loud enough for people inside to hear but not loud enough for anyone, in the street or neighbouring houses.
“Anyone home?” I called in.
There was not a peep to be heard; be it a scuttling noise of eight legs running across a wooden flooring nor the sound of someone telling another person to see who was at the door. There was nothing. Just as there had been nothing in the surrounding areas while we had been driving home from the survivors’ camp. I nervously looked over my shoulder. Fiona was watching me while the children were playing next to the car - seemingly unaware that anything was wrong. I wonder, if we are to make it out of the cul-de-sac, how long they’ll continue to think everything is normal. Maybe I should just talk to them, tell them, before we head out? Would that be better than having them discover things are amiss in their own, young and impressionable minds?
One thing at a time. Need to get into the house. Need to try and find some keys to go with the car. Please, God, let there be some keys. Just give me a break. Please.
I looked around. A door mat on the floor which read ‘welcome’. When I was growing up, my mother and father had one similar. They kept the spare key to the house under the mat. Perhaps? I lifted it up and jumped back when a spider came scurrying out from underneath. A second later and it was crushed under my boot. No key, though. Not that I really expected there to be one. Different times to when I was a lad, growing up in the family home. More crimes, more break-ins. It’s a different time, alright.
I stopped for a moment as a thought flashed through my mind. If the car is in the driveway...I turned to the door handle and tentatively put my hand upon it. I pushed it down and the door clicked open. I pushed the door open as far as I could. It bounced off the metal radiator attached to the wall next to it. A metallic sound which echoed through the seemingly empty house.
It can’t be empty.
Car in the drive.
Front door unlocked.
Spider-sense tingling...
“Hello? Anyone home?” I nervously called out. “Just swung on by from next door...” All these years, living here, and I never got around to introducing myself to the neighbours. It’s only now that I’ve come to regret my hermit-like ways. Again, growing up, everyone knew everyone in the street and quite often I’d come home to an empty house, only to discover later, that mum had vanished to the neighbour up the road for a ‘quick’ cup of tea and a catch up chat. A quick cup of tea which had often turned into a bottle of wine. A catch up chat which would turn into a several hour bitch-fest slagging off other neighbours in the street. “Hello?” I called out again. I was half-turned towards the door, ready to run out at a moment’s notice, my heart beating hard and fast within my chest.
Something isn’t right.
The layout of the house was similar to my own, despite the fact this house appeared bigger than my own from the outside. The hall stretched down towards the kitchen at the back of the house, with doors leading off to various rooms - no doubt the same as mine; dining room, lounge and small washroom. On the opposite side of the hallway, enclosed stairs lead up to the bedrooms and bathroom. More importantly though, on the wall just before the start of the staircase...Some pegs with various keys hanging from them; including the keys to the car outside judging by the electronic fob which was used to unlock it. I reached across and grabbed the key off the hook and turned to the door.
And then I stopped.
Come on, what are you doing? Just go! You have what you came for! My brain kept telling me. But I couldn’t. Not until I knew what had happened. Slowly I turned my back on the door - a part of my brain cursing me as I did so. What if they are here? What if they’re just asleep? I should take them with me. They’re in danger. We should all just cram into their car and head for...Somewhere away from here. I can’t just go. Not until I know. If they are here, sleeping or whatever...I’d never forgive myself if something happened to them. The fact I wouldn’t know for sure would just play on my mind more.
I don’t need to be in here long.
Just a quick check.
For peace of mind, it will be worth it...
“Hello?” I called up the stairs to no avail. I quickly, and cautiously, walked down the hall whilst taking the time to take a quick peek in each of the rooms - nothing too involved, just enough to stick my head around the door and take a quick look inside. Each room revealing the same
as the last - in other words, not a lot and certainly not the neighbours I was hoping to bump into.
Back down the hallway and I stopped at the foot of the stairs. A look back to the open front door. Should I just go? Certainly safer...
Still can’t. Silly little part of my brain stopping me.
I looked back to the top of the stairs. Nothing unusual. The carpet looked as though it had only recently been hoovered. There were pictures of flowers lining the wall right to the top of the stairs and even those looked as though they had recently been polished. Nothing unusual and, yet, something extremely sinister about it. As though, given the circumstances of what was happening outside, it looked as though it were too normal. A hidden evil lurking just beneath the surface of normality.
Jesus, I watch too many horror films.
I started to walk up the stairs, slowly and quietly. I kept my hands away from the bannister rail on the off-chance something was waiting, unseen, underneath it. Every so often I thought I caught a glimpse of something small, and black, move quickly to my side but every time I turned to see what it was - there was nothing there. I kept alert though. Just because I didn’t see anything, it didn’t mean they weren’t around.
At the top of the stairs the air had turned a little more stale. Perhaps it was just as stale at the bottom but the open door had taken enough of the scent away to make me miss it? What is that anyway? Rotten milk?
“Hello?” I called out. I don’t know why. I knew no one was going to answer me. After all, it’s not as though they wouldn’t have heard me calling when I was downstairs. Perhaps it was for my own benefit? The sound of my own voice breaking the eerie silence held by the seemingly empty house. “Anyone home?” I asked.
The first room was the bathroom. Empty. Toothbrushes left in the toothbrush holder, by the sink. Hair brush on the opposite side. Everything clean. Nothing looked out of place or as though someone had run through, in a panic, packing things up in a hurry.
The next room seemed to be a spare bedroom which looked as though it hadn’t been used for as long as the house had stood - although it was perfectly clean, ready to give a bed for the night to any possible friends or family members who visited and required it.
Milk smell is stronger still.
The third, and last bedroom, had the door closed. Slowly I pushed it open and froze when I saw what was beyond. My neighbours were on the bed, embraced in an ever-lasting cuddle. Next to them, on the bedside cabinet, were empty bottles of pills - a deadly cocktail of various medications to help lull them into an eternal sleep. What looked to be a note, next to the empty bottles, written to - I guess - whoever had the misfortune to find them. Me in this instance. I didn’t need a note to know what had happened though. They had taken the easy option of an escape. An elderly couple, they knew they would have only slowed the escape of other survivors. They knew they’d have only been in the way. I didn’t need the note but I was kind of curious...
I took a step closer, to read the note, and stopped dead in my tracks. On the beige carpet, in a sun-spot which spilled through the front facing window, were a number of spiders. None of them were moving, with the exception of the odd leg twitch here and there. They were just sitting there, sunning themselves in the mid-morning heat. Without taking my eyes off them, I took a quiet step back so as not to disturb them. I didn’t bother closing the door behind me when I was back on the landing. There was little point. If they wanted to come through, they’d have easily forced themselves underneath the narrow gap between door and floor.
I walked backwards all the way to the top of the stairs so that I could keep an eye out for sudden movement. When I was there, faced with the flight of stairs to the doorway, I finally took my eyes away from the bedroom door and ran as fast as I could down the stairs and out of the house. I slammed the door behind me and hurried over to where Rebecca and Hannah were waiting with an extremely nervous looking Fiona.
“I thought something had happened,” she said, “I was wondering whether I should come and find you. Were the neighbours not in?” she asked.
I shook my head and addressed the children, “Look, kids, the neighbours have given us their car for a while so we can still go out!”
The kids both gave a little cheer as I pressed the fob to unlock the neighbours’ estate car. They didn’t need asking to jump in as, no sooner had it unlocked, they ran to let themselves in.
“You think they were taken to the camp?” Fiona asked as we too headed over to the car.
“Must have been,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her what I had seen. The thought of an elderly couple taking the easy way out, at least easy compared to having your insides turned into fucking spiders, made me feel even worse about the situation. The thought that they had felt there was so little that could be done, by anyone, to put things right that they had no alternative choice but to kill themselves made me realise just how bleak things were - as though it had finally sunk into my brain that this could well be the final days of humanity as we knew it.
“The way you came out of there,” Fiona said, “I thought you must have seen something.”
“I just freaked myself out,” I lied. I opened the driver’s door and climbed into the car, telling the children to buckle up as I did so.
Fiona might have guessed that I was lying but she didn’t say anything to suggest so. She simply got into the car, the opposite side to me, and closed the door behind her.
Seconds later and the key was in the ignition and we were driving from the cul-de-sac. A feeling of sadness washed over me as I glanced at my house in the rear-view mirror. My house where the girls had grown up. My house where I had shared many happy memories with my family. My house where I had watched spiders crawl over my wife’s face.
“You okay?” Fiona asked.
I looked at her, “I don’t know.”
“Where are we going?” Rebecca asked from the back seat.
I didn’t know that either.
D A Y T H R E E
R E V E L A T I O N S
I pulled up next to the vehicle we had taken from the camp.
“What are you doing?” asked Fiona.
“Hang on...”
I climbed from the car and opened the boot before heading across to the stolen vehicle. I leaned in and grabbed the rifle we had taken from the soldier when we made our escape from the camp the previous day. I’ve never fired a gun before but I figured I’d rather have it to hand and not need it than need it and not have it. I placed it in the boot of my newly acquired vehicle and slammed it shut before jumping back into the driver’s seat. Fiona didn’t say anything. I half expected a little argument from her - something along the lines of it not being safe to have the gun there, so close to the children - but she remained silent. Obviously she felt the same as I did. Sure, the weapon may not be of much use against hundreds of spiders running towards us but it might be a good deterrent to people out looting - if, indeed, there is anyone out there who’s particularly bothered with stealing stuff which doesn’t belong to them knowing what is happening around them. Again, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
I headed down the road, keeping to the speed limit for no other reason than to save on petrol. No sense driving hard and fast. Ideally we want to make as few stops as possible to cut back on unnecessary risks.
“Where did you want to try first?” Fiona asked.
I shrugged, “I don’t actually know.”
“Well it has to be the airport or the docks, I guess. I’m thinking, considering everything that was happening in town...I’m guessing we should head for the airport first. I mean, I don’t have a passport but like you said earlier - these are special circumstances.”
I looked at her and figured now was a good a time as any to let her know what I had seen when everything first kicked off, “I was trying to get into town,” I said, “and a plane fell from the sky.”
“What?”
“Something must have happened onboard. It crashed. Came down
close to where I was. The noise was deafening, thought my ear drums were going to burst...But that’s not all...Someone came out of the wreckage. At first, I thought they were really badly hurt but having seen...What happened to my wife...” I looked in the rear-view mirror at my children. They were too busy mucking about with each other to be paying any attention to anything that I was saying, “...The spiders must have been onboard the plane. Just think - one bite...There’d be nowhere to hide...” I took my eyes off the road, for a split second, to see how Fiona was taking the news. Her expression was blank; impossible to read. “Did you hear me?” I asked.
“So what now?” she asked me.
I wish I had an answer for her. Not just an answer for her but an answer for my kids too. I didn’t, though. I had nothing. No words of comfort I could offer. No plan. Nothing. The idea had been to take refuge in my house, while we decided what to do but now that was out of the question...I was lost. We all were. She made mention of some big plan the army had been talking about. I just wish she had heard a little more of the conversation - something to give us some ray of hope in this fucked up world...Mind you, would it be another ray for the spiders to come and nest in?
