Earthweeds

by Rod Little

  “We need to get closer,” Sam said.

  “Can't you focus in?”

  “Not much zoom, it's meant for wide shots. We should drive nearer. At least two miles over.”

  “No more high points between here and there,” Shane warned. “It's all open field. We could be seen.”

  “Just for a minute. I can't see anything here.”

  Reluctantly, Shane drove the van off the hill and out onto the field. He was able to stay off the roads, but the grass-covered terrain grew increasingly rocky and hard to handle. Sam continued to monitor the six-inch screen. As they moved, the drone was able to move too. It got closer and closer to the compound.

  “Hey. Stop,” Sam said.

  “Sam, we're in the middle of a field. Let's at least get next to the trees.”

  “Holy hell. Look!” Sam's eyes hadn't left the screen.

  Shane leaned over and looked at the tiny monitor, but he couldn't figure out what he was looking at. “Stop shaking the phone, hold it steady. What am I supposed to be looking at?”

  In the distance, gunshots were fired. They were barely able to be heard, but were unmistakable. Another shotgun fired.

  “There,” Sam pointed on the screen. A horde of lizards burst out of the trees and descended on Dexter's compound. His men were shooting rifles and shotguns at them as fast as they could, but the horde was massive. A swarm of at least a thousand reptiles climbed over each other to get to the front line. From the high-flying drone, it looked like army ants covering a hill or devouring a sandwich.

  “Start the van,” Sam said. When Shane hesitated, he smacked his arm and cried out, “Start the van! Get us out of here.”

  They estimated they had about twenty or thirty minutes before the horde would reach them. They were wrong.

  They turned the van around and spun onto the open road. Before they even crossed the ridge, a different legion of reptiles barreled from the trees and headed directly for them. This was a smaller “side patrol,” only forty or fifty reptilian soldiers, but it was enough to overtake the van. Sam had no doubt the creatures would be able to topple the vehicle, break the windows and get inside. He dropped the phone and got his pistol ready.

  Several of the largest lizards reached the road and blocked their way. Sam rolled down his window and fired his gun. This wasn't helping – dead bodies are no easier to drive over than live ones.

  Shane pulled off the road and headed across the field. He applied the gas, but the rough terrain came close to putting them on two wheels and spilling them. When he slowed down to keep the van upright, a lizard reached them and climbed up on the roof. Several more got in front and blocked them in. Shane stopped the van.

  Within seconds they were surrounded.

  “In the glove compartment, open it!” Shane yelled.

  Sam opened the compartment and found another gun and a grenade.

  “Give me the pineapple. The grenade!”

  He handed it gently to his brother, and Shane tossed it out the window. The blast rocked the van; it felt like an earthquake. While the explosion killed five of the reptiles; it did nothing to slow the others.

  One of beasts jumped on the front grate and glared at them through the window. Its eyes were glassy and red. It bashed its head on the front windshield; the strength of these creatures was amazing, and terrifying. A small crack appeared, which gave the animal confidence to try again. It reared its head back and smashed down one more time. The crack spread wider.

  Sam and Shane sat ready with their guns pointed straight ahead at the windshield.

  “When the windshield gives, shoot until you're out,” Shane ordered. “Then grab that second gun, and shoot some more.”

  “Got it.”

  “Today their meal is not free.”

  After spending his bullets, Sam would use every ounce of power to electrify as many of them as possible. When that power was exhausted... well, it would be over.

  The van rocked from the force of lizards banging against the side, and a few jumped on the roof. Their hissing and groaning was unbearable. At least one of the boys would be eaten today, and probably both, Sam thought. The back window splintered, but did not give way.

  Like my brother said, you will pay dearly for this meal.

  Sam aimed his gun for the lizard breaking the front windshield. That one dies first.

  The creature pulled back and aimed its head for a final thrust to burst through the glass. As it started to rear its head for the attack, its body slid backwards. Its eyes widened in confusion, as it was pulled back again by the tail. Something had hold of its posterior, and now heaved it roughly to the ground. It was a spider!

  God bless the spiders! Sam thought.

  Three giant tarantulas began tossing the lizards from the van, then smaller two-foot spiders paralyzed them with venom, liquefying the reptile organs from the inside. Through the cracked windshield, the boys saw an army of several hundred spiders teeming over the ridge, devouring the reptile patrol with the speed and force of a hurricane wind. A few spiders lost their legs, but within minutes all the reptiles were all paralyzed or dead.

  The spider army marched past them, on to war.

  “Let's get home,” Sam said.

  As the spiders continued their advance, they made a narrow opening for the van. The boys negotiated the path, careful not to hit any allies. As the van drove onto the road and back towards home, the mighty arachnid army disappeared in the rear-view mirror.

  Part III

  “You can only pull weeds so many times, before you decide to kill the garden, and start over.”

  – Loxtan Vhar

  Chapter 27

  Over the next two days the war intensified.

  The two armies clashed, giving rise to beastly screams that could be heard in every corner of the county. Sam and his group of survivors climbed to the ninth floor of the hotel, where they benefited from a higher view and a false sense of security. Through the binoculars they watched for miles. Although they couldn't see much of the actual fighting itself, except for a skirmish here and there, they smelled the heavy stench of war in the air. It came with a palpable feeling of pain and despair. Even before Bohai's updates from the deep woods, they knew it was bad.

  “Dexter's compound may not have survived,” Sam said. “And Walter. No idea if his team is still alive.”

  “Walter was pretty confident,” Shane reminded him. “He had something up his sleeve. Underground bunker, maybe. He's the kind of guy who plays with a five-ace deck.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I'm sure his team is fine.”

  They had finished repairing the wall, complete with broken glass shards embedded in the concrete, and an alarm bell was installed in the main tower. Guns were placed in key locations, and they added a new guard station on the ninth floor. Undermanned, they couldn't watch everything at all times, but someone looked out from the top floor at least once every two hours. They would have some warning if the lizard army broke through and marched on their camp.

  The drone found its way back to the GPS base. The boys examined the video footage, but there wasn't much more to see. It showed massive armies of reptiles descending on Dexter's compound, and then the spiders pushing them back. On the return flight, the drone showed only empty woods.

  Bohai had disappeared again for a full day. When he returned, he called a meeting with the group. His expression was hard to read, but Sam saw shadows of uncertainty on Bohai's face. Perhaps it was just because he was still wincing from the pain in his wounds He had returned alone; Zeus had not come back with him this time.

  “The war is going bad for us,” he informed them. “The lizards outnumber everything else.”

  “We knew that,” Sam said.

  “If the lizards are actually mutated people, there would be like millions of them,” said Jason. “Right?”

  Bohai nodded and continued: “But they are disorganized. They don't have a leader. They throw themselves at
anything that moves, and there is no strategy to their fighting, and no art of war. The spiders have that advantage over them. The spiders are well organized.”

  “Awesome,” Shane said and gave a mocking thumbs-up. This time he wasn't sure what he meant by that. Our fate is in the hands of eight-legged creatures. Who have no hands.

  “And I just realized something else,” Bohai said. “The lizards are mutations from humans, but the spiders are not. The reptiles are transformations, mutated from humans or human hosts. The spiders were always spiders; they simply got bigger as an effect of the same virus or biological weapon that mutated the humans. That's a big difference.”

  “So, that's why the reptiles have no leader,” Sam deduced.

  “And the spiders do. They have generals and war plans. They are smart and organized. But the numbers still work against them.”

  “And the bats?”

  Bohai shook his head. “That I don't know. They seem to be further south. Not sure if they are mutations or not.”

  “Then, if it's going so bad,” said Jason, “the lizards will eventually reach us. And take us down. Eat us alive.”

  Sam thought of Ken, devoured by the enemy. What a terrible way to go. This was the fate that awaited them, too.

  “It's time to live up to our end of the bargain,” Bohai said. “We have to help fight.”

  “I'm ready,” Jason declared resolutely. He held up his rifle. “They come up that road, I'll send them to hell.”

  “We have to do more than that.” Bohai felt a twinge of pain in his chest and sat back. His side hurt, too, so he shifted position. “We have to go on the offensive, and backup our friends.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “I need some of you to come with me. The spiders found something they want me to show you.”

  “Found what?”

  “I'm not sure.”

  At noon, Stu took the wheel and drove the van with Sam and Bohai, out to see whatever the spiders wanted to show them. Meanwhile Jason, his arm still in a sling, stayed behind with Shane and the others to guard the fort.

  Shane helped Camila clean up the kitchen. With her long black hair tied back, he thought she looked especially happy today.

  “You like to cook,” he observed.

  “Always. I love it.”

  “You had a husband? Kids? Before all this?”

  “Not yet.” She continued scrubbing the counter. “I had a boyfriend. But he disappeared a few days before it all happened. Someday I want kids. Or, maybe not, because of all this...”

  “We'll be safe again, someday. Trust me,” he promised.

  “We can adopt Lily and Mark, when Lucy drinks herself into the grave.” She motioned to Lucy passed out on the couch.

  “Sorry. I can't manage other people's lives. I can barely manage my own.”

  “I can. I'm hiding all the booze.” She sent an angry look toward the passed-out rock star.

  In the afternoon, Shane and Mark went out back to catch some fish. The young boy was an enigma. Years of dealing with a rock star mother and her abusive boyfriends had left him strong, but cold.

  “Am I doing it right?” Mark asked. He cast his line out again, and it plopped on the water.

  “You're doing fine. Is this really your first time fishing?”

  Mark nodded.

  “Sam and I used to fish all the time.” There was a quiet pause. “Look, if you need anything you can ask me or Sam. Or any of us.”

  “I know.” The boy shrugged.

  “I can teach you to do stuff.”

  “I know.”

  Shane decided to let the matter drop. Maybe the kid didn't need a father or a big brother. So far he seemed to be holding up better than any of them.

  They fished most of the afternoon. Mark had very little luck. He caught only one small fish, and Shane explained to him why they release the small ones. After a long uneventful hour, Shane caught one big enough to eat. He was disappointed at how hard it was to catch the fish with so many in the stream. Though he had a hunch it was the quality of their bait, a part of him believed even the fish lived in fear these days.

  “Tomorrow morning we'll dig up some worms.”

  “Really? Cool,” Mark said.

  Shane managed to catch one more trout, and had just netted it, when the alarm bell rang. Jason was shouting something from his tower perch and making lots of commotion.

  The birds squawked and scattered.

  “What now,” he groaned, dropping his fishing gear.

  The bell continued to ring.

  “Get your gun,” he told Mark. “Follow close behind me.”

  They hunkered down behind bushes and cheated their way along the side wall toward the front. They managed to sneak back to the front gate without being seen, or seeing anything themselves. Shane's bow was drawn, and Mark held his pistol in both hands. They could see Jason up in the watchtower aiming his rifle at something on the road, and they heard the loud roar of something that sounded like tractors or heavy machinery.

  Shane chanced a quick peek around the corner.

  Holy hell, what has Dexter done now?

  Four military tanks thundered up the road toward the gate. They sounded like engines of death, grinding out their metallic march. The clamor startled everything, clearing the woods of all the birds, bees and butterflies; ribbons of color took to the air. The first tank thundered forward until it reached the front gate, a few yards from the newly repaired gap, and the others followed.

  Oh hell, was all Shane could think. We won't be able to fix the wall this time.

  The leading tank rolled to a stop, and the other three metal monsters lurched and halted on the road behind it. In the back of the line, the top hatch of the fourth tank popped open. Shane half-expected to see Mitch stick his head out and grin. Instead, a soldier jumped up from the hatchway and sat on its edge. His quick military movements were as sharp as his buzz cut. He dropped to the ground and walked up to the front gate. For a long ten seconds he scrutinized the lodge, its towers, wall and grounds. Then he put his hand on the pistol at his belt and spoke with a deep voice:

  “Please lower your weapon, sir.”

  Chapter 28

  The van slogged as far as it could on a rough trail that was certainly not meant for a large van like theirs. It was more likely meant for a bicycle or motorbike, and now was consumed by brush and undergrowth. After a few miles, they couldn't travel any further on four wheels. The three of them spilled out of the van and continued the rest of the way on foot.

  They followed a single spider. It was able to move faster through the trees than the men could on the ground. This fact forced it to continually stop to let them catch up, and Sam could sense its impatience. However, the terrain was rough, and hard to cross on foot. Tree roots and vines covered the path, signs of a long period of disuse. The further they went, the more obvious it was that they were the first to disturb this path in many years.

  As the dense canopy of trees blocked out more and more of the sun, a syrupy darkness collapsed around them. The air felt sticky, humid, and the underbrush tripped them on more than one occasion.

  A branch smacked Sam in the face. Annoyed, he brushed it aside. “How much further? Are we still even in the same country?”

  “I don't think we've reached Canada just yet,” Stu said, “but it does feel like we're as deep in the woods as we can get. You sure this is the right way?”

  “I'm sure,” Bohai promised. “It's not much further.”

  “You know, I've met some real hermits in my day,” Stu confessed, “but none of them lives this far deep.”

  “We're almost there, I think. I hope.”

  Their guide had scurried off and disappeared. They forged ahead, pushing aside tangled branches and bushes with great effort. It was starting to look impossible to pass, when they saw an opening at the end of the path. Light filtered in from what looked like a clearing, and hope of a conclusion spurred them on.

  At last, the
y reached the opening, and stumbled out onto a wide glade. It revealed something none of them had ever seen before: what the spiders had found and wanted them to see.

  It was a paved tarmac with five AIFV tanks parked on it, alongside five Gage Stingray tanks, two AH-64 Apache helicopters, and a military barracks. The base looked to be well maintained. Someone had been here recently looking after this place.

  “Holy granola,” Stu said.

  “Tanks? Choppers?” Sam asked. “They want us to join the war with these?”

  “This is how we can help,” Bohai said.

  “I don't know how to fly a helicopter, do you?”

  “No, but we can drive the tanks.”

  “I don't know how to drive a tank either,” Sam fretted. “I'm pretty sure it's not like driving a car.”

  “Why not? It can't be that hard.”

  Then a voice from the barracks said, “It's not.”

  A stout man in military fatigues, buzz-cut hair, stood in the building's doorway. He looked to be in his mid thirties. He studied them for a moment, then stepped forward, his boots thudding on the tarmac.

  “Private George Sinclair, at your service.”

  Stu was the first to shake his hand. “I'm Stu Reese, this is Sam and Bohai. Have you been living here? Have any idea what's going on out there?”

  “We lost contact with our command post two weeks and five days ago. Two by two the rest of my division went to see what was wrong. No one came back. Rex and I waited a week, then we went out to investigate ourselves. You wouldn't believe what we saw.”

  “Oh, I think we might.”

  They exchanged accounts of their experiences over the past week. George was one of a fourteen soldiers guarding this hidden base out in the middle of nowhere. No one knew why the base was here, including him. In small groups, they started going out to see why there was no communication from the outside world. The patrols never came back. George and Rex were the last to go out. In the middle of a lizard attack, they got separated, and George found his way back to the base.