“What do we do?” Spinneretta asked, the walls of her stomach slithering.
Mark grimaced. “Nothing. There’s nothing we can do, except making sure your parents get here as soon as possible.”
Kara was staring at the sportscasters who appeared on the screen. Their boisterous smiles made them look like clowns at a funeral. “What’s going to happen to Grantwood?”
Annika leaned back in her chair. “Depends. Best-case scenario, everything will go back to how it was once someone realizes what’s going on.” She looked to Mark with a grim expression. “Worst-case scenario, it could be Golgotha’s purging of Arbordale all over again.”
Something about that comment struck Spinneretta as strange. At first she was unable to identify what was out of place about it, but as she fixated on the sound of those words in that particular order she grew more and more uncomfortable. Like a discordant note played in the midst of a pleasing composition, it threw her entire thought process off kilter and sent her mind scrambling to either pick up where it left off or expose the reason for that pause.
“But something seems strange,” Annika continued. “Almost as strange as Dwyre’s pets being on the loose.” Her gaze, sharp as a falchion, was angled as though to stab through the sportscasters. “They mentioned it back in Grantwood before you two showed up. That Dwyre’s death was the first major murder in the town since the days of this Norwegian Killer. And now he’s being billed as some kind of serial killer, and yet none of these anchors seem all that concerned. So, any of you kids want to enlighten me? Who is this Norwegian Killer guy, and what does he have to do with this?”
Spinneretta blinked at her. “You’re joking.”
Annika’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t give me that incredulous look.”
“You’re not seriously telling me you don’t know who the Norwegian Killer is.”
The detective shrugged her shoulders. “No, I just thought I’d waste everybody’s time by asking the question. Now stop wasting mine and answer it.”
The idea that somebody could not know about the infamous Norwegian Killer was so absurd that Spinneretta had trouble speaking. “The Norwegian Killer is one of the deadliest serial killers in goddamn American history.”
“Not ringing any bells.”
“He killed twenty-seven people back in the seventies, and another twenty-four went missing over a two week period. The murdered and the missing were all relatively upper-class people in important positions. Politicians, businessmen, whatever. Most of them lived in Old Town, but some lived in the neighboring towns like Mount Hedera and Widow’s Creek. He was eventually found, and he confessed to the murders and kidnappings. He was imprisoned in San Solano, and eventually executed.”
Annika tapped her fingernails on the table’s laminate. “Twenty-seven plus twenty-four people, huh?”
“Twenty-seven confirmed. No trace was ever found of the twenty-four, even though he took credit for them.”
The woman’s irises hardened to a dark glaze. “You seem to know an awful lot about this Norwegian guy. Personal interest?”
“What? No, everyone knows about it. It’s part of our damned history!”
“How ’bout you, Kyle?” Annika said. “This story sound familiar?”
As though in a trance, he began to shake his head. “No. I can’t say I’ve ever heard of him.”
Annika turned her gaze upon Spinneretta. Her brown eyes were cold with a concealed certainty. “Suspicious, no? How did this serial killer do the deed?”
The chill in the air was suddenly far too much. Her spider legs shook as they curled about her midsection for warmth. “I don’t know. The police reports all said the victims had suffered acute head trauma, a bludgeoning or a forced hemorrhage or . . . ”
At that, Annika grew quiet. She laced her fingers together and lowered her forehead to her clasped hands. “Duly noted.” After a long moment, her concentration broke and she stood up. “Either way, NIDUS isn’t waiting for us to get our bearings. We may need to start considering a Plan B, something a bit more decisive than wait and see what happens.”
“Have any ideas?” Mark asked.
“I do. But I can’t do any prep-work until I get a chance to talk with Ralph and May. Not to mention,” she said, her tone dropping, “it’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”
Chapter 19
Ravens Overhead
Spinneretta was lying on the couch the next evening, bored out of her mind, when a knock came to the door. She started upright, an omen ringing through the quiet of the living room. With a house on a hill so far from random passersby, it was unlikely anybody would be knocking by chance. Her mind immediately went to the shadowy Vant’therax and the crazed beasts of the web. The air seemed to rustle as her spider legs drew close to her chest and shoulders.
Mark emerged from the hall as suddenly as a ghost. Spinneretta locked eyes with him, and his whole body tensed. One of his hands rose in a gesture that said stay, and he crept toward the front door. Spinneretta held her breath. Mark eased himself close to the door and peered through the peephole. A moment of silent tension. The stiffness in his shoulders vanished, and he let out a sigh of relief. He turned the knob and pulled the door open. “You two weren’t followed, were you?”
Spinneretta’s heart caught in her chest as the door drifted further open and revealed her parents just beyond the threshold. “Mom?”
May shook her head, clearly upset by something. She stepped inside without a word. Ralph was limping and half-leaning on her. Were it not for May’s arm around his shoulder, he looked like he would have fallen on his face.
“Is everything alright?” Mark asked.
“What’s wrong?” Spinneretta said.
But May ignored both of them. She just dragged her feet under her husband’s weight and lurched into the living room, where she eased Ralph down onto the couch with a heave of her shoulders. As soon as he was off her, her breath came loud and clear. Panting, she turned around and, with shaking arms and weary lips, rushed Spinneretta. “Oh my God, Spins,” she said as she crushed her in a tight hug. “I’m so happy to see you. Are you okay? Jesus, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”
Spinneretta’s spider legs slipped between her body and her mother’s arms, prying open just enough space for her to breathe. “Mmmf. I’m fine, Mom. What happened to Dad?”
“Dad’s . . . ” she paused, releasing her from the hug. She seemed to chew a bitter thought. “He’s just a little out of it right now, dear.”
“Mom!” Kara said, scuttling down the stairs at full speed. “You’re here! Yay! We’re all here now!” She flew into May’s arms, nearly knocking her over.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re all okay!” their mother yelled as she subjected Kara to the same crushing show of love. “I was so damn worried. Where’s your brother, sweetie?”
“He’s around somewhere.” Kara slipped out of their mother’s arms and fell to all eight before scampering into the living room. “Dad! You’re back! . . . Dad?”
Vitality fading, May put her palm against her forehead. “Dad’s a little under the weather right now. Please don’t disturb him.”
Kara huffed and then danced to one of the luxurious armchairs and plopped down in it. There came a staccato crackling, and Cinnamon flowed from behind the chair into Kara’s waiting lap. As though fighting back a mouthful of bile, May stumbled in mid-step. She reached out and grabbed the wall, steadying herself on it.
Spinneretta grabbed her arm to support her, thinking her about to fall. “Whoa, careful, Mom.”
May nodded, finding her balance again. “Yeah. Thanks.” She glanced about the foyer. “God, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”
“Mom?”
The sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs came, and then the sound of Kyle’s voice. “Something going on?”
They all looked up, startled, when Kyle came around the bend in the stairway. Kyle and May both seemed to freeze, and at once an
electric tension crackled between them. “Hello, Kyle,” May said in a flat tone.
Kyle’s eyes were wide, and his bottom lip shook. “May.”
“It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it? Life’s pretty wild sometimes, right?”
“Yeah. Wild.” He laughed. The sound was devoured by a hollow silence that lingered altogether too long. “Where’s, uhh . . . ?”
“Ralph’s in the living room. Resting.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Right, okay.”
“Well, I’ll stay out of your hair as best I can.”
Her dismissive tone struck Spinneretta as out of character, and as May made her way toward the living room with her hand in front of her eyes, she could feel that something was out of place. And when she glanced back upstairs, she found Kyle had vanished. “Hey, are you alright, Mom?”
May wheeled on them with the force of a hurricane. “No, I’m not alright! Drive all the way to Eugene for some testing that Ralph will barely even talk about, and the next thing I know they tell me my children are in danger and our house was raided. By armed men. On top of that, do you know what it’s like to be told your oldest daughter is missing so soon after practically seeing her off to prom? What do you think that’s like? Then—then putting up with Ralph, oh no, we can’t go back yet, the test, the test, like he’s some kind of psychotic anxiety addict! And, then he loses his mind and becomes a goddamn catatonic vegetable when he sees the ultrasound. And then, on top of all that, here I am at Kyle’s. And you ask me if I’m alright? After all this, you ask me if I’m alright? At best, I’m confused! Confused and exhausted. Why in God’s name would there be a spider in Ralph? Why was our house raided? Who’s this Annie that I keep hearing about?” She paused, and then with a look of terror pointed to where Cinnamon lay curled up on Kara’s lap. “And what the hell is that thing!? Jesus, I can’t handle this right now. I need to sleep, I haven’t slept in three days.”
“Why don’t you sit down?” Mark said, gesturing to the remaining open chair in the living room. “At the very least, you deserve a better explanation than what Annika gave you.”
She gave a tired nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I think we have a lot to discuss.”
Mark explained the web of deception to May. Even though Spinneretta had heard the same stories from both Mark and Annika before, hearing them again renewed their predicament. As Mark spoke of the Yellow King, the Vant’therax, and the World on the Web, she again receded into a shell of uncomfortable thoughts. The things sounded impossible as he explained them, and yet there was some deep-seated recollection that nullified the ghastly disbelief those things deserved. That fact in and of itself disturbed her.
When Mark finished speaking, May was quiet for a short while. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight,” she said in a distracted tone. “The Golmont Corporation is a front for a cult that worships this ancient spider god. And this NIDUS thing constructed this hall of mirrors around Ralph to stop him from learning the truth about our children’s origins. Then you use my children as bait to draw the leader out of hiding to kill him. Then, you go to this, this Web place and bring back a pet for Kara.” She chuckled and rubbed her eyes. “Even though I’m seeing it with my own eyes, that doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“I know how you feel, Mom,” Spinneretta said. “I still have a hard time believing it.”
Her mother’s lips drew into a razor-thin line, and an even thinner sigh passed between them. “I guess I’ll learn to cope.”
“You’re taking this awfully well,” Mark said.
She bit her lip. “Tell me something, Mark. How did this NIDUS of yours make our children?”
“I’m afraid I have no idea.”
She stared at him for a long moment, as though weighing his answer on the balancing scale of truth and lies. She reached into her purse and pulled out a half-crumpled folder. “Guess I should share, then.” She produced a glossy black sheet of photo paper from the folder and, with some reluctance, handed it to Mark. “An ultrasound.”
Spinneretta leaned across the couch to get a look at the image. It depicted a bloated abdomen with eight stubby, hook-like legs protruding into the gray ocean of matter surrounding it. Those legs wrapped around some thick lines and seemed to be pulling them toward the blunt head of the creature. “Whoa,” she breathed. “What the hell is that?”
“Ralph went into shock when he saw it. They removed it. Said they’d never seen anything remotely like it. Said it wasn’t even alive. It wasn’t dead, either, best they could tell. It just was, like a tumor. Or an organ. It was attached to his spermatic cord. They said it looked like it just hijacked the system or something.” She paused. “Most of its body was filled with blood.”
Mark looked up. “Blood?”
Blood. Spinneretta felt a lot of it draining from her face as she stared at the image. “Oh my God . . . ”
“Not Ralph’s blood, either. It was some, I don’t know, weird soup or something. I can’t explain it, but they’re going to study it, I think. I hope, anyway. God knows I want some answers about what that’s about. I’m sure Ralph will as well, when he comes out of whatever this is. Might get five minutes of Ripley’s Believe It or Not when this is all over.”
“How did that spider get there?” Spinneretta asked, still staring at the sonograph.
“This NIDUS thing that controls the Golmont Corporation is after hybrids, right? I always wondered why Ralph was required to have a yearly physical as a programmer.”
“Physical?” Mark said.
“He always complained about the booster shots they gave him. Sounds stupid as hell to say it, but maybe they injected him with something that went on to become that spider.”
“But that still doesn’t make any sense,” Spinneretta said, feeling her skin crawl. “How would that lead to . . . ”
Mark hummed. “I haven’t any clue. Yet I have a feeling the answer is in that blood.”
“But . . . why would sperm plus blood equal spider-baby?” Spinneretta asked. “And if the blood wasn’t his, then where did it come from?”
Mark laced his fingers. His gaze sharpened. “I’d like to know the answer to that as well.”
“You don’t know? You didn’t learn anything from reading that Dwyre guy’s mind?”
But Mark said nothing. Spinneretta had the distinct feeling that there was something he wasn’t sharing with her. But for the moment, she thought, maybe that was for the best, for all of their sanities.
When the sun began to sink the following evening, and the shadow of the hill enshrouded its slope, Annika went out with a small set of supplies tucked under her arm. The patch of eucalyptus trees looked to be just as good a firing range as any. The largest of the trees were deadwood anyway, so she didn’t find it likely a few extra bullet holes would disturb them. From her bag, she pulled an old paper bullseye and mounted it to one of the trees, then walked to a second that she eyeballed to be around thirty feet away and set her bag down. The inside of her bag felt alien when she rummaged with her left hand. It took a few seconds longer than normal to reverse her muscle memory and fish out a handful of wadcutters. With the ammunition at the ready, she drew the Ruger from her holster and began to load it.
“Hey, mind if I watch?” came a voice from behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder to where Arthr stood. She’d been wondering how long it was going to take him to say something after he’d followed her from the top of the hill. The boy looked skittish, and the black fake-leather jacket he wore over his spider legs clashed with his awkwardness in a rather endearing way. “If you want,” she said. “You must be awfully bored to want to watch, though.”
“I was kinda hopin’ to learn a bit more about guns, I guess.”
“Suit yourself.” She dipped into her shooting bag and pulled a pair of earplugs before tossing them over to him. He fumbled and dropped them, and Annika was unable to stifle a giggle. “Put those in. Don’t want to damage your ears more than I already have.”
; As he scrambled to pick them up, she grabbed a pair for herself from the bag along with a set of heavier earmuffs. She put them both on and stepped to the point she deemed to be the firing line. “Stand back.” Her words were dead weight on her ears.
She faced off with the target on the tree. After a few steadying breaths, she raised the Ruger in her left hand. The smell of salt filled her lungs. A gentle breeze stirred her clothing and hair. She could imagine a wind chime clanging somewhere, and it reminded her of home. The fingers of her right hand wrapped loosely around her revolver’s grip to support her left. Wish I’d spent more time becoming ambidextrous. She maneuvered the alien-feeling weapon toward the target and fired. The gun kicked, sending a jolt through her bones. Her jaw clenched against the pain as she fired again, nicking the target. Pain shot through her right arm. She allowed the arm to drop away from the revolver. To hell with good form, she thought, and then rattled off three more shots into the target one-handed.
Arthr recoiled as the woman emptied her revolver into the target hanging on the deadwood eucalyptus. Even with the earplugs, the shots were blisteringly loud. When the sound of the shots had faded away, he watched as she let her left arm slump to the side. With a sigh barely noticeable over the ringing in his ears, Annika pulled the earmuffs down around her neck. “Well, fuck me.”
He squinted at the target hanging on the tree. The first two bullets had hit the outermost ring, and the last three were scattered within the second. “Nice shootin’,” he said.
Annika threw open the cylinder and ejected the spent shells onto the ground. “Right. I haven’t shot this terribly since I was your age. Fucking broken arm.”
Arthr blinked and studied the target again. “What are you talking about? That’s impressive as hell.”
“You can only say that because you don’t know shit about shooting.”
The remark stung, but he tried not to show it. “Hey, uhh . . . Speaking of that.”
Helixweaver (The Warren Brood Book 2) Page 22
