Helixweaver (The Warren Brood Book 2)

by Bartholomew Lander

  Kara looked down at her with a still expression. “She was hiding in the cupboard in the bathroom at the motel, okay?”

  Of course. Spinneretta distinctly remembered seeing eight eyes pass through the mist portal in the bathroom. Her chest tightened around an unspeakable certainty. “Why the hell didn’t you say something?”

  “Because you would’ve hurt her!” Kara said. “She was hiding because she was scared! You can put the gun down, you know!”

  Spinneretta tasted Annika’s jaw tightening. “Not happening Kara,” the woman said. “Step away from that thing, now.”

  “No! You killed her mommy, and now you want to kill her, too! I’m not going to let you hurt her, she’s just a kitten!”

  Those words, in defiance of all logic, kickstarted Spinneretta’s mind again. She half-coughed, half-scoffed, and choked on the result. “A kitten? That thing isn’t a cat, Kara!”

  “Y-yeah, seriously,” Arthr said. His whole body was shaking. “If that’s a cat then it’s a cat from hell!”

  Mark grunted in calm agreement. “Or the Plateau of Leng, mayhap.”

  Kara gave her head a violent shake. “Hell cat, Leng cat, it doesn’t matter! I won’t let any of you hurt Cinnamon!”

  Arthr’s mouth fell open. “Cinnamon?”

  Spinneretta at last found the strength to stand back up. Her whole body felt cold and numb. The horror of the creature’s presence was eclipsed by her sister’s reckless and defiant stupidity. “Oh, Christ. You’ve named it.”

  “Kara,” Annika said through her teeth. “Step away from it. Right. Now.”

  Spinneretta shook her head. “Drop the gun.”

  “You lost your marbles, too?”

  “Drop it.” She kept her tone flat, uncompromising.

  A moment passed in tense silence, and then Annika lowered her revolver. But Kara still stood there, arms and spider legs spread, staring them down. With a soft click, Annika lowered the hammer. “You’d better have a damn good reason for this, Spinzie.”

  “Aye,” Mark said from just behind her. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Spinneretta swallowed hard. “Annika, keep an eye on her.” She started for the hall, gesturing at Mark to follow with her legs. He complied without question, and once they’d put a room and a half between them and the monster-spawn, she leaned in close and began to whisper. “This is going to sound insane,” she said, “but I think it’s too late.”

  “Too late? For what?”

  “Once Kara names something, it’s as good as family to her. If we do anything to that, that Leng cat or whatever you called it, we’re going to have a lot of trouble with her from this point on.”

  He scoffed. “Then we shall allow her to be trouble. We cannot permit that thing to live. I needn’t explain that, need I?”

  Her lips quivered. “You don’t get it. We’re going to have big trouble. About a year ago, she brought home a spider, right? A calisoga. A big thing, covered in fur, said it was the cutest thing alive. Mom found it and smashed it in a panic. Kara exploded. She had a fit and then stormed off. Took us three hours to find her, and she still shunned Mom for two weeks after.”

  Mark made an impatient gesture that rippled from shoulder to knee. “This isn’t some harmless spider. This is a hell-spider; a hell-spider that will kill us if it is given a chance. You saw what the others were like.”

  “And so did she. But clearly that doesn’t change anything to her.” The knot in her lower stomach tightened at just a thought of the overlarge fangs, at the scent of venom splattering in the air. One hand absentmindedly moved to the silken bandage wrapping her upper arm and shoulder. “I think we need to tread lightly here. If we do anything to that thing, and she tries to pull something like storming off . . . If it’s true that NIDUS or whatever is still looking for us, then . . . . ”

  His eyes lit up in horrified understanding. He tapped his foot against the hardwood floor. “Surely you are not suggesting we allow her to keep it as a pet.”

  She shrugged, barely able to contain her frustration. “I don’t want to, but I don’t really see any other option. At least until we can be sure that we’re safe from NIDUS.”

  “That’s all it takes to get you to risk everything? Her giving it a name. That thing is a killing machine, and if we give it half a chance . . . ”

  “Maybe it’s like in the movies. You know, where a dragon egg hatches and thinks the horse is its mother?”

  “That is utterly unrealistic. It was already born. It already had a mother. And if that thing is as intelligent as the adults, then it could very well be vengeful. It may seem peaceful enough right now, but that is only because it has not yet buried its teeth in one of us. I shall not take needless risks just because Kara has an attachment complex.”

  She expelled a trembling breath. “But if you kill that thing, then Kara herself becomes a needless risk.”

  At that, he grew quiet. He crossed his arms and stole a glance into the living room. Nobody had moved from their previous positions. Behind the barrier of Kara’s body, the spider-thing was rolling about like a cat hunting its own tail. “So. She is blackmailing us, then.”

  “Not intentionally. But life has a habit of complicating things.”

  He sighed and cringed in one pitiful motion. “Annika.”

  The woman perked up at the sound of her name. “Yes, Marky?”

  “Come here.”

  With a visible reluctance to let the thing out of her sight, she walked over to join them. He relayed to her what Spinneretta had told him. With wide eyes, Annika gave her head an incredulous shake. “You’re kidding me. God, tell me you’re joking.”

  “Afraid not,” Spinneretta interjected. The detective’s eyes fell upon her with an unexpected sharpness to them, as though she resented her butting into the conversation. “I think for better or worse we need to let her have her way for now. What happens later on, when this is all over . . . ”

  A strained noise rattled in Annika’s throat. “Jesus. Alright, fine. Fine.” She shrugged and walked back into the living room, where Kara was now cradling the baby creature. “Okay Kara, listen up.”

  Immediately on edge, Kara tightened her grip on the young beast but said nothing.

  “We’re going to let you keep Cinnamon. For now. As long as you keep it indoors and it doesn’t cause us any trouble.”

  A smile as bright as the sun bloomed on Kara’s lips. “Really? You mean it?”

  “Yes. But, if Cinnamon does anything suspicious—if it starts to look at us the wrong way, or makes to bite someone, or otherwise causes us trouble . . . ” She paused and leaned in close to Kara. “If any of that happens, then I’m going to shoot it in the head. So if you want to keep that . . . Leng cat,” she cringed a little as she spoke the phrase, “then you have to keep it under control. You got that?”

  Despite the grave threat, Kara’s smile brightened further. “Yes! I’ll train her real good!”

  “Are you joking!?” Arthr said. “What, has everyone here gone fucking nuts except for me!? There’s a . . . I mean, a goddamn spider-thing the size of a bear crashes through the bathroom wall, and, and now everyone is jumping up and down to protect its baby? What is going on? This is all so fucking backwards that—”

  “Arthr, that’s enough,” Annika said in a harsh tone. “And watch the cursing around your sister.”

  “No,” Arthr spat. “No, I don’t believe this. I want a vote on this!” He clenched his teeth. “Okay, look, let’s just settle this democratically, alright? Raise your hand if she shouldn’t be able to keep it.” His hand shot up into the air.

  Nobody else moved.

  “Sorry, kid,” Annika said. “This isn’t a democracy any more than Cinnamon’s a cat. It’s sticking around as long as it behaves. That’s the hand God dealt us.”

  Arthr’s face went pale. “You can’t be serious.”

  Kara was filled to bursting with giggles. “Yay, I knew they’d like you, Cinnamon. We’re all going to be
best friends!” The ball of fur in her arms clattered an insectoid response and clasped at Kara’s chest with its spider legs.

  “Do not let me regret supporting this position,” Mark said in a low tone that only Spinneretta could hear. “That thing is dangerous. And when it shows its true colors, I hope you will have no reservations about disposing of it.”

  Spinneretta said nothing. She just watched Kara swinging the Leng cat around and prayed things would not come to that.

  “Alright, everyone,” Annika said after dinner. “Since we’re going to be staying here for a while, we should lay the ground rules.” She took a long sip from a glass of whiskey pillaged from Kyle’s liquor cabinet. “First: you can play with your cellphones as much as you want, but the SIM cards are mine, full stop. Second: if you try to contact anybody outside this house by any means, then I reserve the right to shoot you in the head. Do not forget why we’re here. We’re watching the situation in Grantwood. None of you are going home until we know it’s safe. Period.” She scanned the faces of everyone present, and when she found no argument she took another sip of her drink. “Third: stay indoors. If you go outside, you must be accompanied by myself or Marky. Even then, you must wear a jacket over your legs to avoid arousing suspicion.”

  Kara crossed her arms and huffed. “Sounds like you’re just keeping us prisoner.”

  “And that reminds me,” Annika said, looking at the beast-spawn curled up in Kara’s lap. “Keep that thing—”

  “She’s not a thing. She’s Cinnamon!”

  “Fine. Keep Cinnamon on the property at all costs. If she gets loose, we’re going to have big problems.”

  Kara scratched the Leng cat behind its ears, and a terrible sound trilled up from its throat. “You wouldn’t give us any problems, would you girl?” The sight of her treating it like a puppy made Spinneretta’s skin crawl and her arm wound throb.

  “Well, that’s it,” Annika said. “If you have any problems, you obviously come to me or Marky. That’s the end of orientation. Feel free to head back to your dorms.”

  “Where are we sleeping?” Arthr asked.

  Annika slapped her forehead. “Right, I forgot. Kyle’s almost finished clearing out the guest room, so with the middle bedroom we have four beds in total. The only democratic way to do this would be to give you three the guest bedroom, and Mark and I can snuggle up in the middle. Any objections?”

  Spinneretta’s stomach rolled, and without realizing it her hands had balled into fists. Her tongue began to form a violent response, but she didn’t have a chance to spit it out.

  “I object,” Arthr almost shouted, his voice cracking a little.

  Surprised, Spinneretta turned her gaze to him.

  Annika eyed him with suspicion. “And what’s the problem?”

  He seemed to shake as all eyes shifted to him. “You kidding me? I sure as hell don’t want to sleep in the same room as that, uhh, Cinnamon. I mean, no offense to Kara, right, but I uhh . . . I don’t really trust it to not eat my face off while I’m asleep, ya know? And we know she’s going to sleep with it. So. Yeah, that won’t. That won’t really work for me.”

  Annika expelled a long breath and gave a disappointed shrug. “Well, fine. Since Arthr is such a pussy we can split it boys and girls, then. Just like in elementary school.”

  Spinneretta scowled. “I’ll take the couch.” She was not going to spend the night in the same room as that damned detective.

  “Have it your way, min spindeltjej. Middle bedroom: Arthr and Mark. Guest bedroom: Kara and I. The couch of solitude: Spinzie. Any further objections?” Nobody spoke up, and so she sighed and sank back into her seat. “And here I was looking forward to sharing a room with the insomniac and getting the whole thing to myself.” Her disappointment broke abruptly into a high laugh that was wholly inappropriate.

  That laughter cut a harsh note that scraped up Spinneretta’s spine like a razor. She closed her eyes and took a shallow breath to calm herself down. Her nerves were threadbare from overexposure to the detective and her saccharine demeanor. That, and the woman’s initial plan for sleeping arrangements rubbed her mood raw. “Excuse me.” She stood up and started walking toward the door.

  “Oi, something wrong, Spinzie?”

  “Nothing,” Spinneretta said. She realized then that her face was burning, and her palms were suddenly slick. As she walked down the hall toward the bathroom, her mind was consumed by the lingering question of just what Annika’s relationship with Mark was.

  “Well, I guess I need to eat my words,” Doctor Reynolds said. The clipped stack of papers on his desk seemed to flicker in the room’s fluorescent lighting.

  Ralph felt a hollow pit opening in his gut. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, your count came back normal. But your sperm is . . . ” He paused, looking back over the documents. “Different. In regards to appearance, the test showed that your sperm was abnormal. Now, it’s not unusual for abnormal sperm to be present, even in large amounts. But with your sample there was a very high level of consistency among the abnormality. It looks like there is something going on in your plumbing that could have contributed to your children’s abnormality, as it were. So, that being said, we have options now. I could refer you to a urologist who can give you a more in-depth examination than what I can do here. Your genetic testing came back normal, so we don’t have any reason to try that again.” The doctor looked up and nodded a little to nobody in particular. “Personally, I’m leaning toward an ultrasound in your case. While it might not give us the most detailed results, we’ll probably be able to narrow down where the problem lies, be it in blockage or, God forbid, a tumor of some sort.”

  Flashbacks of years stuck in the unbounded test-referral loop came back to him. “I . . . How long will it take to get the results?”

  “Depends what you mean by results. We’ll be able to see what’s going on right then and there, but what that next step leads to is up in the air.”

  Ralph swallowed hard. “Isn’t there a faster way?”

  “I understand that you’re anxious, but these tests take time to conduct, Mr. Warren.”

  “You don’t understand. I can’t afford to just stick around here. I have to get back to my family. Can’t you just biopsy it?” He nodded to himself. “Yeah. Biopsy it. If there’s something wrong, you should be able to tell me right now what it is, right?”

  Reynolds gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t recommend going in for a blind biopsy. It’s possible that a biopsy could give us some answers, but there’s only a narrow spectrum of problems that it would be the least bit helpful with. As I’m sure you’re aware, that’s a rather sensitive area to biopsy without reasonable cause.”

  “You don’t fucking say?” Ralph stood up, summoning all the restraint he could to prevent him from hurling his fist into the doctor’s chin. “Now listen to me. I know what happens with you doctors. First it’s an inconclusive test. Then it’s an inconclusive ultrasound. Then it’s an MRI to get more information. Then it’s a second MRI with that intravenous piss-drink to get a better image. Then it’s either a regimen of bleach and baking soda pills, or a series of lengthy operations and invasive intra-dick camera sessions to find out what would take any doctor worth his beans ten minutes and a goddamn knife to figure out. I’m not getting sucked into that shit, I’ve been through enough misery with you doctors and your tests!”

  Reynolds put his hands up in what was meant to be a calming gesture. “Sir, I understand you’re upset, but a proper diagnosis is a process. Like I said, the chance of finding the problem with a blind biopsy is small.”

  “Take your process and shove it up your fucking ass! I want you to give me a goddamn biopsy, now.”

  “I’ve never seen a man so eager to have his balls cut open,” the doctor said with a meager laugh. “Sorry, but no. I’m not going to perform a biopsy without a cause.”

  Ralph stared at him, and his anger faltered just a little.

  The doctor clicked h
is tongue and looked at his clipboard. “I can recommend an ultrasound,” he said. “What do you say to that?”

  Ralph sighed, and his gaze fell away to one side. “Fine. I’ll do your goddamn ultrasound.”

  Chapter 16

  Uraraneida

  “Wakey-wakey!”

  Spinneretta’s dream vanished in an instant. Her eyes shot open, and a pair of giant red orbs greeted her. With a shriek, she hurled her blanket away and threw herself back toward the arm of the couch, her legs pulled back in terror of the writhing beast.

  Giggling, Kara peeled the blanket off herself. “Good morning!” In her outstretched legs, a gleeful Cinnamon sang a staccato song.

  Spinneretta glared up at them through sleep-fogged eyes. “Jesus, Kara. You’re lucky I didn’t rip that thing’s face off.”

  “Stop calling her a thing! She’s Cinnamon. S, I, N, A, min!”

  Spinneretta was too tired to suffer her sister’s shenanigans. “Whatever.” She leaned back against the arm of the couch, rubbing her eyes through heavy lids. Her cramped spider legs reached out to the sides and as far back as they could pivot. A choir of satisfying cracks and pops christened the morning.

  “Are you okay?” Kara asked, leaning closer.

  “Just had a bad dream is all.”

  “What did you dream?”

  She hummed, trying to pull the strands of quickly fading imagery from her mind. “Don’t remember. Something about smoke and yellow robes and horrible spider cats that can kill with a bite.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Cinnamon,” Kara said. “You’re beautiful and awesome.”