by Rebecca Brae
duct tape around. Says she never knows what I’ll break. Will that work?” she asked, tossing out a steady stream of odds and ends.
Hertson tried to identify the items as they flew past. “It’ll have to do...unless she actually does have a welder in there.”
Sasha eventually found what she was looking for and sat cross-legged on her bed, watching Hertson slop superglue around the edges of the table and mummify the area with duct tape. She hugged herself and tried not to think about the walls, which were vibrating under the onslaught.
Ed neurotically curled around her wrist in an endless loop.
A sudden rush of beating wings erupted from a dark corner and a huge black Cicada awkwardly skidded to a halt next to Sasha. The clear, brittle wings folded back against its body with a sharp click. Vibrant red eyes twitched. Its articulated abdomen curled toward the bed, armored plates sliding over each other. A blade descended from its bulbous body and Sasha heard fabric tearing. She watched in horror, as the insect effortlessly slashed a deep hole in her sleeping bag.
Ed slid off her wrist and contracted into a tight s-shape, rearing his head. His fangs dropped down as he hissed at the intruder.
The Cicada stopped laying eggs and extended its wings, doubling its size.
Hertson turned just as it hunkered down and beat its wings against the bed in an enraged threat display. He grabbed a metal binder from the heap of objects they had salvaged from the closet.
Sasha knew she was in trouble when she tried to move and couldn’t. Her vision narrowed until all she saw was the dreadful Cicada. It swayed back and forth on tensed legs while drumming its wings. The pulsing abdomen and cutting blade was arched forward, pointing at her and Ed.
There was a sudden blur of movement and a wet crunching noise. The hypnotic fear binding Sasha in place finally broke and she recoiled. Hertson’s ashen face hovered over a gray binder on the bed where the Cicada had been. A cloudy liquid leaked out from one side.
“Where the hell did that come from?” Hertson forced the question out between clenched teeth.
Not yet able to find her voice, she pointed to the corner.
He grabbed the smeared binder and slapped it over a rusted hole in the floor.
“Sasha. SASHA…stay with me. Pass me what’s left of the glue and tape.”
Sasha robotically retrieved the supplies and then squeezed her eyes closed, struggling to keep calm. When she opened them again, she spotted a thin, black needle slicing through the duct tape holding the table to the wall. With her last remaining sliver of sanity, she seized her mom’s hiking boot and brought the heel down on the Cicada forcing its way through the puncture.
She collapsed onto the floor and curled into a tight ball, staring at the shaking walls.
Base Camp. July 14 - 11:10
Kate drove into a camp that looked as though it had been bombed. The lab trailer was on its side, covered with scratches and dents. The door to Peterson and Hertson’s camper was open, banging against the twisted frame in the wind. Melanie and Grey’s trailer hadn’t fared any better. It had lost so much of one wall that Kate could clearly see it was empty, except for piles of shredded furniture and belongings. The surrounding trees looked like they had been put through a blender.
"Oh gods..." Sweat stung Kate’s eyes as she took in the motionless Cicada scattered throughout the camp; legs hooked in toward their dead bodies, sated eyes staring into oblivion. Lowering the truck window to listen for the tell-tale song, she was greeted with deafening silence.
Kate forced herself to look at her trailer and noted with reserved relief that although the outside was scoured, its window appeared to be boarded up.
Stumbling from the truck, she ran to it and desperately banged on the door. She was knocked back as it swung open and a hand yanked her inside.
The seconds it took for her vision to adjust to the dark felt like an eon. Then, she saw Hertson raise a shaking hand and peer blearily at his watch.
“Good God. It’s about time someone showed up,” he complained.
A compact figure launched out of the sleeping nook and enthusiastically hugged her.
Kate wrapped her arms around her daughter, tears streaming down her face. She frantically ran her hands over Sasha's body, searching for wounds. She found none and looked back at Hertson.
He was now slumped on a stool with his head in his hands.
Kate’s voice broke as she thanked him. He nodded stiffly without looking up and she hesitantly asked, “Did any of them cut you?”
“No, but your closet sure did a number on my nose.” He touched his swollen nose and winced.
Kate glanced down when she heard a muffled sob. Sasha was still clinging to her. Ed‘s head emerged from her sleeve and he stuck his tongue out inquisitively.
"Mom, it was so scary. The trees moved! They chased me and I ran in here. Only it wasn’t the trees, it was the bugs. They were trying to get in. Then Chet, ah, the professor came and..." Sasha’s voice cracked with recalled terror.
Kate saw that various items had been crammed into or over holes in the walls and ceiling. Her wool socks, tampons, a jacket sleeve, a banana, pens, a canteen, sample tubes, and a coloring book were among the many makeshift patches. Even her laptop had been opened and wedged against a particularly porous section. A half crushed Cicada protruded through a layer of duct tape holding the kitchen table to the wall.
"That was close,” she said, unable to pull her gaze away.
Hertson squeezed Sasha’s shoulder. “You have no idea.” Then, looking as if he had just remembered something, he stood. "I have to find Peterson and Melanie."
He cautiously stepped outside and Kate picked Sasha up, hugging her tightly. "Come on sweetheart. I'm going to put you and Ed in the truck, okay?"
"You're sure the bugs are gone?" Sasha asked with a fearful quiver.
"As sure as I can be," Kate replied honestly. She surveyed the sky and path to the truck before leaving the relative safety of the trailer. Sasha had a bad moment when she saw the Cicada littering the ground, but Kate explained that they were dead. After watching for a while to ensure they were stationary, Sasha willingly left with her mother.
Kate was buckling Sasha into the truck when Hertson staggered up, looking ill.
She shut the door and turned to meet him, standing protectively between him and the truck. "What is it?"
Hertson quietly related that he had found a body near the lab trailer. He bent double and breathed shallowly for a moment. "Actually, it was more a bloody heap. I think it was Peterson. Can’t be sure. No sign of Melanie.” Then, more hopefully, he asked, “How did Grey make out?"
"She died before we made it to the hospital.” Slumping dejectedly against the truck, Kate explained. "The female that cut her must have laid eggs. They hatched inside her…" She shook her head, unwilling to continue.
"Laid eggs? What the hell? There’s no way the nymphs could have hatched that quickly."
Kate swallowed the lump in her throat. "Well, they did. We need to grab whatever samples are left and get them back to the lab. The area’s been quarantined and the army is on their way. I promised the police we would go straight to the military base.” Seeing Hertson’s questioning look, she held up a hand and shook her head. “Samples first. I’ll explain in more detail on the way."
They quickly shifted through the remains of the lab trailer and retrieved the samples that hadn’t been destroyed. Kate shoved some dead Cicada into a garbage bag and they stiffly jogged back to the truck.
Noticing her drooping shoulders, Hertson offered to drive. He awkwardly climbed into the driver’s seat and grimaced at the scuffed instrument panel.
“Hope the damn thing holds together,” he muttered, struggling to close the ill-fitting door.
* * *
As the old forestry truck struggled along the twisting gravel roads, a shrill noise reverberated through the air. Somewhere in Oswega, a dog started to bark at the sky.
* * * *
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About the Author
Rebecca Brae is an artist with a background in sociology and weird pets.
Go to www.braevitae.com for more information about the author and links to her other writing, connect with her on Facebook and Twitter, or send an email with comments to [email protected].
Chaos Bound (Mist Warden #1)
Chaos Bound, the first book in the Mist Warden series.
When the going gets weird, the tough are useless. You need a geek.
Jessica Clarke is no superhero, and though she believes being smart, curious, and compassionate should be considered qualifications, society has yet to agree.
Her life in Coldwater is low-key and predictable, just the way she likes it. Her biggest worries are staying at the top of her classes and avoiding the popular crowd, but a change that will shake the world is already taking hold in her small town.
The death of a classmate kicks her out of her safe routine. Stalked by the supernatural killer, she’ll need to embrace the chaos in order to survive: Lying, stealing, invoking barely understood magic, and even crashing the popular crowd’s house party.
Abandoned by her friends and labeled a troublemaker, she’s determined to find a way to stop the killer, but at what cost?