Hungry Independents (Book 2)

by Ted Hill

  Margaret opened her eyes, aware of His will.

  She stood and turned to find Samuel and Dylan staring at her. Their mouths hung open like they had their own plans on how to trap the flying insects.

  “You’re… you are…” Dylan tried to say.

  “You’re glowing, Molly,” Samuel said.

  Margaret smiled and opened her hands. She held twin circles of light. “I need you to take these. We’re going down there and this will protect you.”

  Samuel stared at the light she offered, but made no move to touch it. “That’s crazy. This is crazy. What is that?” He stepped back. “Who are you?”

  “Samuel,” she snapped. “I am your friend and I’m telling you to take the light. It’s a gift that has been given to us to help everyone trapped down there. It won’t hurt. Take it. Or I will rip your shirt to shreds.”

  His mouth dropped open again. He narrowed his eyes at her. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  She smiled and stepped toward him. “Please, we don’t have time to waste.”

  “Just don’t hurt my shirt.” Samuel reached out and grabbed the light from her hand. It seeped into his palm and shot through his body. Margaret knew he felt the same euphoric transformation from the power of the Lord’s holy light. Samuel now glowed as brightly as her, wrapped in a cocoon of power and protection. His smile gleamed with magnificence.

  “Okay, Dylan. We need your help too.”

  Dylan stepped up and took the light without a word. His skin blazed, and together the three of them appeared as stars sent down to walk the Earth.

  “Now,” Margaret said. “Follow me.”

  She spun towards town and sprinted down the hill with abandon. Her feet barely touching the ground, she felt like she was leaping the whole way there. Houses and trees blurred as they crossed the half mile from Dylan’s house to Main Street in seconds. Margaret and the two boys drove into the center of town, and as their lights pierced the heart of the storm, the bugs fell in lifeless piles. The swarm of insects curled away to avoid them, hovering near the two story rooftops, unwilling to come down any farther.

  “They’re afraid of us,” Dylan said.

  Samuel laughed like he’d had a little too much of his homemade wine. “I always thought bug zappers were cool. I just never thought I’d be one.”

  Margaret took in the situation. Every window on Main Street had shattered. Tendrils filled with grasshoppers dipped down into some of the buildings, like festering streams running in and out. The sight sickened Margaret. She prayed they were not too late.

  Margaret pointed to Brittany’s. “Everybody’s in the cafeteria. You guys get in there and drive the remaining bugs out.”

  Samuel nodded. “What are you going to do?”

  “Ginger,” Margaret said and ran to Luis’s, where a long tongue of the swarming cloud streamed into the broken window of the clinic. Margaret jumped through the window frame, right into the thick, swirling chaos that had nowhere to hide from the Lord’s light. The place exploded with bugs dropping, followed by screeching and movement as the panicky insects struggled away from Margaret’s path to the safety outside.

  A naked bloody lump lay by the far wall. Margaret’s rage surged. And then sorrow threatened to take her out of action when she recognized what was left of the tawny hair on the head of her best friend, but the Lord’s light kept her strong.

  The baby’s crying came from behind a closed door down the small hallway in back. The door swept open and a wild-eyed Scout burst through, brandishing a mop.

  He shaded his eyes from Margaret’s light. “Molly, is that you? Where’s Ginger?” But then he saw her on the floor and stumbled into the wall. “Oh, sweet Jesus!”

  Margaret rushed forward and gripped his wrists. A small amount of her light seeped into him and he calmed. The baby screamed from where Scout had left little James safely in the restroom.

  “Go tend to the baby while I see about Ginger,” she said.

  He nodded like that was the most reasonable thing he’d heard all day. Scout turned down the hallway, dimly lit by the glowing light he now carried. She knew the light would be enough for Scout to soothe James as well.

  Margaret knelt next to Ginger and gently held her bloody hand. She still lived, but the mass of bugs had gnawed at her skin. The pain and the crush of their numbers must have knocked her unconscious. Margaret touched Ginger’s head and confirmed the concussion.

  The baby stopped crying and Margaret heard Scout gently singing to little James. She thought her heart might burst when she recognized the song, “Jesus Loves Me.”

  She closed her eyes and blocked everything out except for the need to heal Ginger. The conduit of light the Lord supplied filled her with strength and power. Margaret rested her other hand above Ginger’s still beating heart and made the connection between her friend’s mind and soul so that the body could be healed. She prayed again and a surge of power from the light covered Ginger’s torn flesh. Margaret breathed in the light and held the tension of that pain until she opened her eyes, releasing all of it.

  The glow shot from Luis’s clinic into the roaring cloud above Main Street where it suffused like lightning rolling in a thunderhead. The flying insects lifted higher and moved away until the natural light of day returned.

  Margaret’s light was depleted, spent in the service of saving her friend. Ginger lay naked on the floor, her hospital gown in shreds and her wounds healed.

  Margaret remained conscious due to the generous help she had received. Still she swayed from the light’s absence. Unable to stand, she crawled to the bed and pulled the fitted sheet from the mattress to cover Ginger.

  Scout slowly entered the room with James, the expectant look of sorrow creasing his face. He stopped—sorrow swapped with surprise.

  “How is he?” Margaret asked.

  Scout stared at her, then back to Ginger, then finally down to the little sleeping bundle in his arms. He smiled. “He’s perfect.”

  “That’s good,” Margaret said, curling up next to Ginger and closing her eyes.

  “What happened? How did she get better?”

  With her eyes still closed, Margaret wiggled her fingers at him. “Magic.”

  “You’re not funny.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been told that before.”

  Something screeched outside. The sound traveled along Main Street, bouncing off the buildings in echoing waves. Margaret opened her eyes and pushed herself up. Scout handed her baby James. His feet crunching through the dead bugs and broken glass scattered on the floor, he headed toward the empty window frame.

  James opened his bright blue eyes that reminded her of Catherine. The smell he carried in his pants reminded her of something else. She searched around for a clean diaper and found one under an upturned table.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Scout said from the window.

  She quickly changed little James and wrapped him up in his blanket like she’d done for thousands of babies in other lifetimes. She had already guessed what was walking the streets outside and it made her heart sink. All that was left was the description.

  “Some tall, creepy dude is standing out there. He’s looking for something.”

  Margaret held James close and kissed his cheek.

  “Food,” she said, but Scout didn’t hear her.

  “I bet he’s looking for trouble,” he said.

  Twenty-Seven

  Jimmy

  Jimmy’s head throbbed and he thought that was really weird, considering. He tried lifting his hands to check out the situation and found his arms restricted, as well as his legs, and realized he was tied up.

  That was totally weird, considering.

  He opened his eyes and took a deep breath of carpet fibers where his face was currently planted. He knew that was absolutely weird, considering he was supposed to be dead.

  Jimmy rolled his head to the side and coughed out the dust and stray hair from the carpet. His mouth already held many other disgu
sting flavors. What he wouldn’t give for a glass of water and some toothpaste.

  “What’s it doing now?” Catherine asked.

  Mark looked back into the front door. “The cloud is heading out towards the fields.”

  “That’s what I thought it would do,” Catherine said, sounding like this cloud was the worst thing to ever happen in the world, or at least in Independents.

  The events before he passed out rushed back to Jimmy all at once, and now he knew he was lying on Billy’s carpet, but everything beyond that got really weird. He remembered the confrontation with Billy. How Billy had obviously lost his mind, with all the talk about eating Mark and Catherine, and then he remembered sinking into Billy to try and stop him.

  Mark was staring at him. “He’s awake now.”

  “He is?” Catherine came around so Jimmy could see her. Her forehead was bruised and a frown crossed her lips. Her eyes grew wide when she looked at Jimmy. “Oh!”

  “What’s happening? How can I be all tied up?”

  Mark quickly stepped back into the house, carrying an aluminum bat and looking absolutely terrifying with the way he held it. “You’re tied because you’re some kind of sick, twisted freak. You’re lucky I don’t brain you right now and be done with it.”

  Catherine placed her hand on Mark’s arm, the one holding the bat. “Mark, will you give me a moment to speak with him, please?”

  “Sure, speak away, and then I’ll brain him.”

  Jimmy squirmed in his bonds but quickly stopped when Mark took a menacing step forward. He tried to shrink or melt into the carpet fibers. Neither amazing feat happened. He held his breath and prayed he wasn’t brained on the spot.

  “I need to speak with him alone,” Catherine told Mark.

  “I don’t think so. This crazy bastard might try and chew through the ropes.”

  “He won’t do that, silly. I can handle this, trust me. Just stay outside the door and I’ll scream real loud if I need you.” She emphasized her request by placing her hands on her hips like she meant business and Mark was delaying progress.

  Mark looked at her then at Jimmy. He pointed the bat and the tip of the barrel swung an inch from Jimmy’s nose. “I’ll be right outside, Billy. If she even makes a peep loud enough to be considered a scream, I’m running in here and putting this in the center of your skull. You got me, right? Shake your head once for yes.”

  Jimmy shook his head once even though Mark had called him Billy. Something was totally wrong and Jimmy needed answers now.

  Mark walked out into the fading sunset. Jimmy realized he must have been unconscious for a while since it had been mid-afternoon when they confronted Billy.

  “I was wondering where you were.” Catherine kneeled next to him.

  “What is happening? Am I who I think I am?”

  Catherine cocked her head and smiled. “That didn’t make any sense, silly.”

  “You know it’s me and not Billy, right?” Jimmy said.

  “Of course. I knew the moment I saw your eyes. They are the gateways to the soul, you know. You can’t hide a soul as big as yours anyways.”

  “But how is this possible?”

  Catherine shrugged. “Possession would be my first guess. But I’ll have to investigate before I can say for sure. Do you mind?” She raised her hands and held them above Jimmy, ready to do something miraculous.

  “Go ahead. Knock yourself out.” Jimmy’s voice sounded nothing like him. “This is the most excitement I’ve had in months.”

  Catherine laid her hands on his head and bowed her own. A wind tore through the front door, blasting dust around the room. Jimmy felt a strange stirring in his chest like a giant fish swimming in a small bowl. Catherine’s hands started glowing and the fish grew agitated and thrashed wildly. Jimmy was unable to do anything but wiggle because of his bonds. His stomach rippled and his arms strained against the rope cutting into his wrists. He felt a scream ripping him apart from his toes to the top of his head and fire burned in every nerve, melting his skin and setting his bones ablaze. He searched, but only saw light, and wanted nothing more than to tear away and scurry into darkness.

  The light continued pulsing through him, chasing the big fish until it gripped the creature in both hands and yanked it out, freeing Jimmy’s borrowed body from the entity’s powerful presence. A terrible apparition writhed in the air above him, trapped by Catherine’s light. Another gust of wind blew in through the door and the creature’s form shattered into a thousand fragments.

  Jimmy watched the light dissipate with nervous tension still holding him rigid. Catherine knelt above him, panting like she ran a race and smiling because she won first place.

  Mark stood in the doorway, tightening his grip on the baseball bat. “What happened?”

  Catherine, still breathing hard, turned her head. “Had to… chase away … a demon.”

  Mark narrowed his eyes. “So what do we do with him now?”

  Catherine winked at Jimmy. “You can untie Billy. He’s going to be fine.”

  Mark walked over, looking unconvinced. He tapped the bat against Billy’s chest. “Is that right, Billy? Are you okay?”

  Catherine pushed the bat away. “Would you stop, silly? You’re scaring him. I told you he was okay.”

  “Yeah, but I want to hear him tell me.”

  Jimmy swallowed. “I’m okay, Mark, really.”

  He said it, but he didn’t believe it. How can you call possession being okay? Sure Catherine had chased something away, but what was Jimmy? He was another something. And where the heck had Billy gone? Jimmy had questions, but Catherine was up to her secretive routine and he figured it best to play along until they had a private moment together when he could make her tell him everything.

  Mark tapped the bat in his free hand.

  Jimmy returned to the task of self-preservation. “I mean it, Mark. I’m okay.” He sounded scared; it wasn’t difficult. “I don’t even know why I’m tied up. I don’t remember anything.”

  “I’ll tell you what happened. In fact I’ll show you what happened, what you did to Preston.” Mark bent over and picked Jimmy up by one of his tied arms like he was a Samsonite suitcase packed for Grandma’s house.

  “Mark, put him down!” Catherine snapped. “What happened in the other room has nothing to do with Billy. He wasn’t responsible.” She slapped the bat out of his other hand and poked him in the chest.

  Mark dropped Jimmy to the ground, knocking the wind out of him.

  “Billy was possessed. That means he had no knowledge of what the creature in charge was doing, so just drop it.”

  “He already did,” Jimmy said at their feet. He gasped from the lack of oxygen combined with the pain that jarred every one of his joints.

  Catherine bent down and untied his hands then his feet. Jimmy rubbed the feeling back into his small wrists and marveled at how different they were from his old set of long arms. This definitely moved to the top of the “weirdest things that ever happen to him” list.

  Mark stooped over to retrieve his bat again. He walked to the door, staring at Jimmy the whole time, and leaned the bat against the doorjamb. Then Mark looked outside. His jaw fell open from whatever sight he viewed. “The cloud has created some type of giant dust storm out over the fields. What is that thing, Catherine?”

  She joined him at the door. “My guess is it’s a cloud of bugs and they’re eating up all the crops.”

  “What!” Jimmy leapt to his feet. He ran past Catherine out to the front lawn and stared off toward the fields where the giant swarm tore into the earth like a tornado. He staggered like he was intoxicated from spending time with Samuel’s barrel of wine.

  Catherine wrapped her arm around his waist for support. With Jimmy inside Billy’s smaller body, they now stood eye to eye.

  “What is happening?”

  She stared at him then nodded. “Famine’s coming. This is just the start. I’m not sure what type of entity is responsible for this, but we should expec
t the worst. Like Chase and his plague.”

  “What can we do?”

  She pointed to the cloud. “There really isn’t anything we can do against that swarm of bugs. We’ll wait it out and see what’s left.” Catherine turned to Mark. “We should go to Main Street and assess the damages.”

  Jimmy watched, afraid to move, as the cloud of bugs continued churning dust and debris over his fields. All of Independents’s food was being obliterated. All of Jimmy’s hard work over the years was being destroyed by something like Chase’s plague.

  This late in the season, there would be no time to grow enough food to make it through the winter. They would be lucky if half their population survived. He remembered something about hellhounds killing all the chickens and hogs this morning, but at the time he was too excited to see everyone again to consider the implications.

  “Billy?” Catherine said like she had repeated it a couple of times and was now worried. “Mark and I need to go check if everyone’s all right. You should come with us.”

  Jimmy broke out of his spiral of thoughts leading him deeper into something he had no control over at the moment. “Why do we need to check on everybody?”

  “Because before that cloud of bugs hit the fields, it sat over Main Street for a time. We need to make sure no one is injured.”

  Jimmy started moving towards Main Street. Ginger was there with his newborn son. Jimmy sped up.

  “Hey, wait for us,” Mark called.

  He pretended not to hear and pumped his legs faster, no longer afraid of Mark and his bat now that something threatened his family.

  He rapidly approached the center of town and noticed the debris first. Gravel from the roofs of the buildings was scattered everywhere like gray pieces of hail after a storm. Sparkling edges of jagged glass were interspersed as well, and Jimmy was thankful that Billy had chosen to wear shoes today.

  He turned the corner at the edge of the building that was Ginger’s Clothing Center. He hit the cobbles of Main Street and skidded to his butt right in front of a tall kid with black hair and clothes that didn’t fit. Jimmy noticed the boy’s long fingernails, splayed out like he intended to use them. Then he looked up into the kid’s dark, dilated eyes. Eyes like Chase’s.