by Jason Davis
All the men scrambled. This had to be done, and quickly. It had to be planned. He must get everyone together and make them a well-oiled machine.
A military action on U.S. soil. He would lead his men and women to a town and lock it down. Block off every street going in and out, and quarantine it.
He felt his breakfast wanting to come up. The whole idea of it just made him want to say no, that it isn't possible, and walk away.
He wanted to laugh in someone’s face for just suggesting it as he looked at the maps again. He saw the red markings showing the city limits and each road that lead out. His men were already following his orders, creating guard placements, and estimating the equipment each team would have to bring to each junction.
Today would be a day in history, and he knew there was a good chance his name would be remembered. He just didn’t want to think in what way it would be remembered.
He heard his knuckles crack as he leaned forward onto the table. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt everyone’s gaze burning into him.
With what some would mistake as a growl, he let out the long breath. He opened his eyes, then started giving out the orders. In the center of his chest, he felt the anvil pressing down, his heart starting to hurt.
“Have the cell towers been cut?”
“Yes, Sergeant. PRISM has been activated in the area, and all cell communication has been terminated.”
“Okay. Let’s get with the county and state authorities, then lock it down. The town is now officially under quarantine.”
THE END OF BOOK 1
HATCHED
Author’s Note
Hello, and thank you for reading Hatched, Book 1 of my new series, Invisible Spiders. This book has been a long journey for me to write and actually has a history for me. It has taken me over ten years to finish writing this story, but as you have just read, this is just the beginning.
Invisible Spiders started as a completely different entity both in form and story. The original form was in a script as I had mainly worked on screenplays back then. The original story had to do with creatures that were attached to everyone, and that people's vices were these creatures, which were hidden on their backs. I still think it's a cool concept, but visions of bad sci-fi movies always prevented me from doing anything more with it.
Then, in 2001, when I wasn't sleeping too well, waiting for loud explosions from blocks away in downtown Chicago, I had this crazy dream. It was about Zombies. To be blunt and honest, I don't find Zombies too scary. Even though there were aspects to the dream that I found creepy, the one thing that kept sticking with me was about the spiders that infected people, leaving them a zombie-like shell.
Once I had that, I sat down and knocked out a script in three days. A script that I never could sell. That was fine. I had other projects to work on. I focused on my film festivals and some other film work here and there, but Invisible Spiders always stayed with me. It was the story I really wanted to tell.
So, when I decided to get away from doing movies and focus on writing in 2008, it was the first story I wanted to tell. I wanted to run right in and start. However, I had never written a book before. How was I going to do it? It’s more than just stringing a bunch of words together. You actually have to know a little about what you are doing.
So I started working on another novel, which didn't have a title at that time. It was later called Inside the Mirrors, and by taking the time to write and release that story, it allowed me to rethink some of the story in Invisible Spiders. I realized some of the flaws and understood what elements were making it not resonate with audiences.
When I started writing this novel, I had a better concept and realized my flaws. I should have been able to knock it out in a couple weeks, right? After three years, I realized the story had grown to such a point that one book would no longer contain it. Remember, I am an independent author. It is frowned upon to have too big a book through the company I work with. There are many warnings about how the printing can be affected.
As I worked on splitting the book, ideas for a third book started to cone to me.
Okay, trilogy. Great, I love Star Wars, so the idea of doing a trilogy didn’t strike me as a bad idea, nail I started to think about how much I would have to cram into the third book...
And so Invisible Spiders, the series, was born. Why? Because this is not a story that is going to be rushed. Because, to me, in order to have a zombie story be scary, we really need to focus on becoming a zombie and make that as terrifying as possible. Because a story should draw you in and make you care about the characters and their lives.
I fell in love with my hero from Inside the Mirrors. When creating him, I had created a world in which he could be the main character for a series. While he is barely mentioned in this beginning story, I wanted you in to meet him and feel his everyday life.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed this first entry. I can't wait to bring you the next book. Remember to #fearthespider.
Caught in the Web
(Preview)
That couldn’t be what he thought it was. He heard them, the pop-pop-pop, and knew that it had to be firecrackers. It was the middle of the day in July. People had plenty left over from the Fourth, and it wasn’t all that uncommon for them to be going off at any time of day. Kids running around, playing with M-80’s or quarter sticks… That had to be what he heard, and they were probably doing it right outside the store. That’s why he heard it all the way in the back room.
BJ picked the box up off the shelf, looking to make sure it had the right spark plug label. The room was dark, and he was back there amongst the shelves in what seemed like the caverns of the store. Outside, it was bright, and he was back there in the depths, looking through their stock of auto parts, gathering what his customer was waiting for. He was in there while kids ran around outside, letting off fireworks. Damn, he wished he could be out there. It had to be fireworks. There was just no way, no matter how much it sounded like it, that it could be gunshots. They were too close to the town. Gunshots, no matter what time, would ever fly in town. It didn’t matter if the chief was on duty or not. He would still bring down harsh justice if someone was out there shooting.
Yeah, BJ thought to himself as he continued to walk up from the back of the store, carrying the boxes of spark plugs up to cash register, it had to be firecrackers. Kids were just playing around outside.
He set the box down on the counter and looked up at the man waiting for them. Dog, a large man who wore a small, way too tight shirt that may have been green at one time, stood there. As he started to ring up his purchase, BJ had to try not to look at the “spare tire” that Dog was itching.
“So what else you doing after you get done tuning her up?” BJ said, trying not to look up at the hat, the old red “Budweiser” hat that had once also contained the numbers of Dale Earnhardt, Jr.…until someone had taken the time to work the numbers off. BJ still remembered when Dog, on a drunk summer night around a bonfire, had cut the numbers off himself after Earnhardt had switched companies and was no longer driving for the beer company. Dennis…or Dog, as he liked to be called…had used a knife that he kept in his tackle box and had cut his hand open pretty good. He had been drunk enough to not realize it until the task had been done.
Dog really wasn’t the brightest when it came to everyday tasks, but when it came to cars, the man could tear one down to its head gasket and put it back together again while he was still hung over.
“Planning on taking the party barge out over to Illini and dropping a few lines. You workin’ tomorrow? I can hold off until you get outta here. Grab another case and you can pitch a tent.”
It was a good thought. Get out of town and under the stars for the weekend. Occasionally, there would be some guys out there at Illini State Park that were known to play some bluegrass, and it wasn’t uncommon to get everyone in the campground around one fire. Bluegrass wasn’t BJ’s music of choice, but when you
’re camping out and someone is playing live music, it is hard not to sit back and enjoy. And between songs, there would be the bullshit that would fly and laughs would be shared.
Then they would be the ones firing off the quarter sticks. He still had a box of Black Cats he had brought back from Indiana, as well as a few other good noise makers. Ha, there wasn’t anything better than throwing a pack in the fire and watching as people scattered when they went off…unless it was when you lit a firecracker and let it go off right under someone’s chair. It was a good time to sit back, nearly falling out of your own chair as you watched them jump out of theirs.
Of course, it was because of firecrackers that BJ knew he couldn’t ask Dog if he had heard the kids outside. Dog could barely hear anything after the M-80 accident when they were kids. Thinking about it, putting Dog’s head into a garbage can and then dropping an M-80 in there might not have been the best of ideas. Dog had lost a portion of his hearing, as well as more of what little sense he had to begin with.
“That does sound like a good idea. Anyone else you know goin’ to be out there?”
BJ rang up the items, adding in his discount and knocking the price down to cost. After all, BJ was the only one working in the store for the time being as Cindy was late, and he knew that no one would probably catch it.
“That’ll be $10.80, Dog.”
“Shit, Beej. Can’t you do anything for me? Throw some shit in for free? Hook a brotha up.”
“Man, I’m already hookin’ you up. Now shut up before someone comes in here and catches on.”
Dog was putting on a show of acting like he was having trouble finding his wallet. Of course this was a show as he wanted BJ to go ahead and outright pay for the damn things, but BJ had been through this many times before. He knew he just had to wait it out with this friend and, eventually, the old torn-up leather wallet would emerge and money would be produced.
BJ never knew why Dog did this every time. The man made more money than he did. Dog had a good job at the car dealership down the road because he was one hell of a mechanic, even on those damn foreign jobs he had to work on all day. Still, anytime they were anywhere, he always acted as though he never had any money and was always trying to get anyone else to pay for him.
It was another of the many reasons the man still had no woman. They never want to date someone who was always acting as though they were broke.
“Come on. I need to save up. Unless you’re goin’ to be bringin’ the beer?”
And now he was bringing the beer when he hadn’t even said he was coming out there yet? This was how the man always talked him into doing all that crap for which he was always getting into trouble. It always started out like this.
BJ heard it again. This time louder and more distinct, and there was now no way he could say that it was some kids or a car backfiring. Those were definitely gunshots, and from the look BJ saw on Dog’s face, he knew that Dog had heard them.
He wasn’t sure what he was doing, what he was even thinking he was going to do, but when he heard the little artificial bell from the door alarm, he realized that he was moving, hurrying to see what was going on. He wished he could say it was to do something heroic, but he knew it had more to do with him wanting to see what was happening than the possibility that he was going out there to help someone.
BJ didn’t have to look behind him to know that Dog was on his heels. He could almost fell the large man’s mass following behind him. When he wanted to, the big man could really move.
BJ reached the parking lot and slowed, looking around. The auto store faced the main street, but most of the strip mall was around the side where the larger part of the parking lot was. He could see the stoplight as well as a fast food joint, a hotel, and a golf course just behind the fast food place. There wasn’t a lot of traffic, especially for afternoon on a summer day, but he really didn’t see many people out, either. There was nothing that seemed like it could have been the cause for the gunshots.
Dog hurried to his truck parked in the handicap spot in front of the store. Yeah, Dog was handicapped alright. Handicapped in the head, BJ thought.
Dog opened the door with a loud creak, then BJ noticed that he was still carrying the box of plugs. He tossed them on his passenger seat as he was bending over, reaching for something under his passenger seat.
“Those were semi-automatics. Sounded pretty weak.”
Hearing more gunshots, BJ spun. The echo off of the stillness made it a little difficult to pinpoint exactly where they were coming from, but if he had to guess, he’d say they were coming from around the side of the building.
“Yeah, police issue,” Dog said, standing back up and holding a double-barreled sawed-off shotgun. BJ knew that the thing wouldn’t have a long range, but considering where Dog pulled it from, it wasn’t meant to shoot too far. Oh no, that was meant to decapitate anyone who ever tried to get into Dog’s truck without Dog wanting them to. “Which means Mandy might be in trouble.”
Dog looked from the gun to BJ.
“Man, don’t you think we should go check it out first?”
“Mandy might be in trouble.”
“Yeah, and she’s just as likely to bust your ass and put you in the drunk tank again.”
Mandy was Dog’s kid sister, and was on the local police department. She was part-time, didn’t do much and, for the most part, just went around handing out parking tickets. That made her the most hated young woman in town, which she didn’t let bother her because she had plans to get out of this little shithole backward ass ant hill of a town one day and go to Peoria, where she could be a real cop. BJ figured if that would ever happen, Dog would be right behind her, probably with his shotgun, ready to shoot anyone that even laid a hand on her.
Dog was already walking around BJ, nearly pushing him out of the way, no longer paying much attention to him.
“I’m not drunk,” Dog grunted to him as he stepped past. Now BJ was behind him, and he had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to like whatever they found when they went around the corner.
