Day of the Spiders

  “What are you up to?” said Briggs.

  “Doctor Briggs, you should have more faith in me. I’m just making sure that we have all our cards on the table before we set out on this little project together. Have a little faith,” said Layfield. He smiled, which put another dab of fear in Briggs’ guts. He tried to put Layfield on the back-foot again.

  “So, what’s the latest with your little terrorist situation?”

  The smile dropped from Layfield’s face as if someone had slapped it right off. “The town of Layton is in the process of being evacuated. Reports are coming in of spiders coming up out of the drains and running people out of their homes. The army are setting up a border on the nearby city of Hemmington and all the towns that are immediately around Layton. They have flamethrowers and other heavy artillery to deal with the problem. It will be contained until you come up with a solution. There are many, many casualties so far Doctor.”

  “Looks like you really are getting butt-fucked eh? Good luck getting voted in next time,” said Briggs.

  That got Layfield mad. He stood up out of his chair. “You show me some respect Briggs, show me some damn respect. I could still have you back in that hospital at any moment, and don’t you bloody well forget it,” he roared. His rotund cheeks had turned an ugly shade of scarlet with the force of his shouting.

  He stood there for a moment, gathering himself, opening and closing his fists in an effort to calm down. After a moment he spoke again, his voice was back to its usual calm and monotonous tone. “All of the facilities are ready for you to begin your work. All of the samples are at your disposal. I suggest that you get on with the job Doctor Briggs.”

  Layfield got up to leave, but Briggs stood in his way. The two soldiers at the door stiffened.

  “You just make sure that you make good on your promise. You see, I don’t trust you an inch, and I have absolutely no reason to change my mind on that,” said Briggs. There was a decent blob of anger in his belly, but he needed to keep a lid on it, at least for now.

  Layfield said nothing. Briggs stepped aside and let him walk away. If he never saw him again it would have suited him just fine.

  “Come with me,” said Monsun. “Time to have a look at your new office.” He still had his poker face on. Briggs wondered if that guy even knew what an emotion was.

  Monsun turned and made his way out of the door. Briggs dutifully followed and they were backed up by the two soldiers that had been guarding the door. Briggs already knew the way, but he allowed Monsun to lead him anyway. There was no need to cause a fuss with men who were carrying guns after all. Before long they were standing outside the double doors that lead into Briggs’ old laboratory.

  “All yours Doc,” said Monsun with his customary warmth.

  Briggs pushed through the doors and had a look around. All of the old equipment he had used the last time he was here was gone, all of it replaced with newer and more up-to-date items. The department that he had left behind all those years ago had operated on a shoe-string budget, and everything he had to work with at the time had given the impression that they had found most of it in a second-hand shop. This set up, however, looked as though there was some serious money behind it. A fella, a smart fella might have thought to himself that they had got this room ready for the eventuality that they might be needing it again. As the thought raced around his head, something felt like it had clicked into place for him. It was no wonder they had kept him in that hospital the way that they had, they had an idea that the virus might come back too. But, a fat bastard like Layfield wouldn’t have been able to work that one out by himself, he would have needed minds much superior to his to put that particular jigsaw together. Someone else had been mowing his lawn whilst he had been away, that was for sure. The more he looked around the room, the more he saw the evidence. The equipment was new, that was for sure, but it had all the markings of equipment that was subject to daily tinkering. He felt a snap of mild irritation at the idea of someone else being in his lab.

  “You must be Doctor Briggs,” said a voice from behind him. He turned around and saw that a woman had come into the room behind him whilst he had been mourning the passing of his exclusivity. She had the look of a woman that had yet to reach thirty, and yet she brimmed with confidence. She was dressed in pin-striped trouser suit and she was clutching a large folder to her chest. Her brown eyes, set behind a pair of rimless spectacles, sparkled with, what Briggs suspected to be, a vast intelligence. He had a pretty good idea that she had been the one that had been picking his nose whilst he wasn’t looking. If he was right, then he guessed he would let it go for now.

  “Yes, that’s me,” he said.

  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you finally,” she said, putting the folder on the counter. “I have read all your research on metaphysical biology, really brilliant stuff.”

  She was talking at a speed that was a little too fast, and gesticulating wildly as she did so. It took Briggs a moment to realise that she was star-struck. She was a fan.

  “Did you understand it all?” he said.

  “Yessir,” she spluttered. “I wrote a dissertation on it. I got top marks too. When I got posted here, it was the week after, y’know, Newtown. They said I had to disseminate your work, find out all about it.”

  “Do you think that you have a grasp on it now? Sorry, what’s your name?”

  She fanned herself with her hands for a moment, another overdone gesture. “Oh, yes of course… Becky…er Willis. Doctor Becky Willis,” she said holding out her hand. Briggs shook it gently. The hand was slick and clammy with sweat.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Doctor Becky Willis,” said Briggs, giving her a smile. He was hoping that once the novelty had worn off that she would calm down a little. He wouldn’t be able to tolerate the fawning for very long.

  “Likewise,” bellowed Willis.

  Briggs thought it over for a moment and then he said, “Would you like to get a cup of coffee, and we can bring each other up to speed. We can’t do anything until we get to know each other a little.”

  “Yeah…..oh my….yes I would love to. I’ll show you where the canteen is,” said Willis. Briggs was going to tell her that he already knew, but for the second time that day, he allowed himself to be lead through the complex that he had called home for so many years.

  5.

  The laboratory wasn’t the only thing that had been substantially improved whilst he had been away. Before, there had only been one choice of coffee, the same watery, flavourless rubbish every single day. Now they had a much more sophisticated machine that dispensed every type of coffee that you could possibly want. It took Briggs a few moments to decide which one he actually fancied. He opted for a caramel cappuccino in the end, not having any idea if he would actually like it or not. There was a bigger selection of food too, just from the vending machines that were on offer. The counter service was closed at this unsociable hour, but Willis assured Briggs that the food was of the highest standard, and he would find out once the catering staff arrived the next day. They settled themselves onto the table nearest the large windows. There wasn’t much to see out of the windows other than the orange glow of the outside lighting. Briggs was momentarily surprised to see a soldier slowly walking across the bottom of the window. Willis saw the surprise on his face.

  “Walkways, all around the complex,” she said through a mouthful of cheese and ham sandwich. “Security around here got real tight after Newtown.” She paused to swallow. “The internet blew up with conspiracy theories, most of which centred around the government. It wasn’t difficult to make the link between you and them, with a little fishing around of course, at least until somebody started scrubbing.”

  Briggs had just unwrapped a chicken and bacon panini. It was halfway to his mouth when he realised what Willis had said. It paused in his hands.

  “Scrubbing?” he said.

  “Oh, yeah, scrubbing. It’s when a tech guy removes all evidence from the internet
, all videos, articles, everything. There were so many videos out there it was impossible for the government to put out their version of the story and get people to buy into it. They almost pushed the kill switch to get rid of it all,” said Willis. She folded the last of her sandwich into her mouth. Briggs had a suspicion that she was from working class stock, one that had risen far above any expectation that had been put upon her. People from a higher etiquette would have probably eaten that sandwich with a knife and fork.

  “I thought that the kill switch was just a rumour. I didn’t think anyone had the power to take out the whole internet,” said Briggs. He took a bite of his panini. After five years of hospital food he felt as if his entire set of taste buds were having an almighty orgasm. He had never had food taste so good and he doubted he ever would again.

  “I’m only going off what I had heard around this place. I’m a natural earwigger, goes with the territory. I don’t know anything for sure, except that all evidence of what went on has vanished into thin air. Everything except, of course, the work that you did here, and the work I have done since.”

  Briggs set down his sandwich. “Tell me what you know.”

  Willis sipped her coffee. “Me tell you?” she giggled, “Ok. The virus you created, The Whisperer was designed to speed up the metabolic rate of all breeds of British spider. The motive being to thin out their numbers and stop them from snacking on the common honey bee, which would have caused the ecological balance of the world to be out of whack.”

  Briggs laughed, she had a way with words that tickled his funny bone.

  Willis smiled pleasantly at him whilst he laughed. She waited for him to stop before she carried on.

  “I’m willing to guess that you don’t really know what happened to it when it was released, or do you?” she said.

  “I have a theory, but it’s all I have.”

  “Tell me your theory,” she said. She had set her sandwich down and was giving him her full attention.

  “Ok. I think that the virus tried to survive, it mutated to try and break free of its programming. The moment we set it loose, it was like setting a bird free, all it wanted to do was fly,” said Briggs.

  “That’s pretty good. In a way you’re right, but there is more to it than that,” said Willis and took a gulp of her coffee.

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspenders,” said Briggs and Willis giggled.

  “It wasn’t the virus that tried to survive, it was the spiders,” she said and drank more coffee.

  Briggs mulled it over for a moment. He leaned forwards and folded his arms on the table. “How is that possible?”

  “If you catch a cold, what is the first thing that happens?” she went on without allowing Briggs to answer. “Your body attacks the invading virus as best it can. Depending on the virus the body will go to more and more extreme lengths, that’s why you get a fever, or septic toes, or your teeth fall out. The reaction to that virus when it invaded the body of those spiders was as extreme as it comes. That’s why they mutated. The reaction to the virus caused it, not the virus itself.”

  Briggs sat back again. He was floored. Such was his high opinion of the virus that it never occurred to him that it wasn’t the cause of the mutations.

  “Do you have any proof?” he said.

  “I have one of them,” she said.

  “Come again?”

  “I have one of the Newtown spiders. It’s dead, but I still have it. I believe it was the one that killed the fireman, at least, that’s what they told me,” said Willis and drank more coffee. She looked up at Briggs who was sat in front of her open mouthed.

  “You wanna see it? I can show you if you like, then I have to get some sleep, I’m knackered,” she said curtly.

  “Sure,” said Briggs, and he did. There was a slug of apprehension crawling in his guts, but the curiosity of seeing one of the beasts again was far stronger.

  “Let’s go, bring your coffee,” she said pushing her chair back and standing up.

  “You couldn’t part me from it,” he said picking up his plastic cup.

  She led him back towards the lab, but this time they carried on past the doors and into the next room. She clicked a switch on the wall and the room lit up. The lighting was a dim orange glow, just enough to see inside. Briggs knew it was to preserve any samples that they had inside, the light would cause them to degenerate.

  Willis closed the door behind them. The room was lined with large enclosed jars filled with a clear greenish liquid. Inside the jars were different types of insects and creatures, one of them was, what looked like, a Labrador, permanently frozen in the liquid with its now pale tongue hanging out the side of its mouth. Willis led him down the grotesque museum exhibits to the end jar.

  “Here you go,” she said and pointed to the jar at the end of the row.

  Briggs looked at the jar and he felt his breath stop for a moment. The flashbacks of Newtown bolted briefly through his mind. He shook them off as best he could and he took a step closer to the creature in the jar. It was one of the Newtown spiders alright. Its outer skin looked like it had been stretched and torn from the mutations. Its abdomen was heavily swollen, like a boil that was ready to burst open at any moment. The spider floated in the fluid, its legs (which had been worn away a little through the passage of time) waved to him slowly through the glass. The back legs had grown far beyond the capacity of normality. They dangled down from the spider’s body like two pieces of grotesque cord. He felt mildly unwell looking at it, and yet his scientific brain wanted so badly to understand it. To know what made it tick.

  “What do you think? I mean, I never saw one of these when it was alive ‘cept when the videos were online, but I always thought that they looked sort of fake anyway,” said Willis.

  “They were a lot more menacing when they moved, believe me. I never want to be put in that kind of situation again,” said Briggs. He misted over for a moment, remembering the tower of spiders in Newtown, remembering the sound that they made, all of them rustling together as they tried to hold formation. He felt a shiver coming up his neck, he supressed it as much as he could but Willis saw it.

  “It must have been pretty tough,” said Willis. She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze, after a moment he squeezed back and offered her a smile.

  “Whatever is happening now, I’m sure we can work it out between us. As a species, we have come up with some pretty hot solutions to most of the worst diseases in the world, I’m sure we can manage this one too,” said Willis.

  “The solution? I know about the solution, don’t you worry about that,” said Briggs.

  “You have an idea?” said Willis, her face lighting up.

  “You could say that, all in good time,” he said.

  “I saw the pictures, y’know, the pictures of the girl….the infected girl. What had happened to her?”

  “The virus has had five years to regroup. Personally? I think it has evolved. I only saw it bond to one human host the last time it happened, and I don’t know anything for sure, but I think she was bitten and somehow survived. The bites from these spiders,” he gestured to the specimen tank, “were enough to paralyse a fully grown human. They used human bodies to gestate more like them, the whole process took less than a few minutes. I think the girl I saw in Newtown had been bitten but didn’t get impregnated….. I think. I didn’t stick around to find out.”

  “I wouldn’t have done either,” said Willis. She still had hold of his hand and was now rubbing her thumb up and down his finger. “But, we can start tomorrow. We should go and get some sleep. There are a couple of bunks at the back of the building we can get our heads down on.”

  He thought about sleep for a moment. He wouldn’t have even entertained the idea half-an-hour ago, and yet at even the mention of it he felt waves of tiredness begin to wash over him. He nodded at Willis and she led him out of the room. Neither of them noticed that they were still holding hands.

  She led him to the rear of the complex
and into the on-call room. It contained what was as close to a comfortable home setting as you were likely to get in the circumstances. There was a long sofa, a television mounted to the wall and a large single bed that had been made up with a prissiness that was unbecoming of a government financed operation.

  “There is another one next door. If you need anything there is an intercom next to the door here,” said Willis.

  “Ok, well, I will leave you in peace and tomorrow we can get started,” said Briggs and he moved to leave. Willis stepped in front of him.

  “Can I just say Doctor Briggs, it is an honour to meet you finally. I feel like I have known you for years already,” she said.

  “Likewise,” said Briggs.

  Willis hesitated for a moment, there was a little colour building in her cheeks.

  “I wondered…. If you want to, y’know. Spend the rest of the night with me?” she stuttered.

  Briggs opened his mouth, ready to turn down her offer, that he was older than her, that she was a work colleague. Excuse, after excuse danced on the edge of his tongue. But instead he said nothing. He put out his arms and encircled her waist. He pulled her in close and for the first time in a very long time, Briggs felt the wonderful intoxicating feel of female flesh again.

  His staying power had not improved a jot.

  6.

  Despite his best efforts to play night watchman, Braden had fallen asleep. His head had dropped forwards and he began to drool down his shirt. He had a broken and vague dream that he had been on a large yacht in a harbor that looked like it had been plucked right out of a big budget movie. Every single possible cliché was present, from the champagne glasses sitting on a tray on the deck to the ridiculous captain’s uniform that he was wearing. After he had woken up the last remnants of the dream hung around in his mind for a few moments and then they evaporated. He had been waiting for Mary and Jax to turn up so that they could sail away to the middle of the ocean, the only place that they could be safe from the events that had happened on land. The residue of the dream made him wonder if they would be better off on their own without Trent’s help. At the moment, he couldn’t even entertain that idea, they needed him and his off-road vehicle to get to safety. Once that had happened then Braden was going to weigh up their options. He didn’t really believe in the idea that a dream could tell you which direction to go in your life, but then again, he didn’t believe a lot of things were possible until a few years ago. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was about Trent that was bugging him. He had always found Trent to be mildly irritating at the best of times. He was polite to him as the next-door neighbor, that hadn’t been a problem. There had been times when he had seen him and Mary talking over the garden fence. Mary laughed at his weak jokes just a little bit too easily for his liking. Trent certainly wasn’t that funny. Perhaps it was the fact that good ol’ Trent didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on his body. He even cleaned his big-ass car without his shirt on, which drew more than a few admiring glances from the local female (and some of the male) population. Perhaps it was the fact that he had pulled them out of danger instead of Braden doing it himself. Did he really have that much of an ego? Did he really have to be the alpha male in any given situation. Probably he did, after all he had been fighting to stay on top his entire professional career. Now he was facing the possibility of having to stay on top within the confines of his own marriage. He was out of his element here and he knew it. He was no good with the great outdoors, or survival instincts that didn’t involve fucking people over in one way or another. In his own mind, he was putting Trent on notice. Sorry buddy, but you gotta go.