Infestation

by Timothy J. Bradley

  “All we need to do tomorrow is put a couple of things in place, like getting some supplies together, figuring out a vehicle to get us from here to my truck, and from there we’re fine.” He turned serious. “One thing I want to do is see if we can destroy this nest, or at least slow them down from spreading. If we can damage this building enough, that, along with the bugs tearing each other apart, should give us time to get some firepower here to deal with them.” He yawned. “I gotta get some sleep … try to at least rest, Andy. Once we start moving, we can’t stop until we’re clear of these things.”

  “Okay,” Andy replied. He lay down on the cool cement with his wadded-up shirt as a pillow. It was sticky with sweat and the royalty chemical, which had an unpleasant sickly-sweet scent. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

  The next thing he knew, Reilly was rousing him. “C’mon, man. It’s Extermination Day.”

  Gerry gathered them together at one of the crates stacked against a wall. After only three hours of sleep, the boys were slack-jawed with fatigue. Joey had gathered enough water and candy bars to last a few days, if they were careful.

  The muted crunching sound as the bugs ground through the concrete continued to grow louder.

  Pyro blinked blearily. “So how are we getting out of here?”

  “We need to get moving on a few things first,” Gerry said. “We need some kind of transportation. There are cars out in the parking lot, but no keys to get into them.”

  Shields said, “Hey … what about that old bus they used to bring us all here? We can check the security office for the keys.”

  “Who needs keys?” Reilly snorted. “I bet I can hot-wire that piece of junk in about five seconds.”

  “I don’t think I want to know anything more about that. Transportation: check,” Gerry said. “Next, we have to set the sprinkler system off to get the bugs fighting one another.” He pointed to the emergency lights in the corners of the room. “Those lights are running off some kind of generator, which has to run on gasoline or some kind of fuel. We need to find the tanks holding the fuel. We also need some way to light it. We’ll check the desks in all the offices nearby. Maybe we’ll find some matches.”

  “I want in on that!” Pyro blurted, his arm held up high.

  Gerry grinned wryly. “Against my better judgment, okay, Pyro. The next thing we need to do is blow a few holes in this place. The bugs who aren’t fighting will start on repairs. They won’t even notice us leaving.”

  Andy had been half listening, trying to stay awake. He was trying to focus on what Gerry was saying, but his mind kept wandering. His eyes drifted to the wall behind Gerry. Some dust was falling down the wall in a thin stream. He regarded it quizzically.

  Suddenly, a crack appeared in the wall. Andy’s eyes widened. He stood and pointed at the wall, and was about to cry out when the wall split into large chunks of concrete that fell heavily on Gerry. He went down without a sound.

  A bug appeared in the hole in the wall. It looked around at the speechless, gaping boys for a moment, and then drew one of its hind legs along its abdomen to signal other bugs. A loud, ratcheting buzz blasted through the room.

  The boys were frozen in shock and fear. The noise stopped. The bug tried to step over the broken chunks of cement in the opening of the wall.

  With a jolt, Andy recovered himself. He looked around wildly and grabbed a glass jar full of a sludgy liquid. He threw it as hard as he could. The jar hit the ant in the head, cracking its thin exoskeleton and breaking off an antenna.

  The ant stopped for a moment and shook its head. It flexed its mandibles, picking up a cinder block and crushing it into pieces.

  Reilly screamed, “Kill that freakin’ thing!”

  Shields grabbed a handful of the homemade sodium grenades and started whipping them at the ant. Each one detonated with a sharp crack, spraying glass fragments through the room.

  Pyro and Hector helped, using their slingshots. The sodium vials made a humming noise as they cut through the air. The creature was covered with scorch marks from the blasts, and glass shards stuck out from it like pins in a pincushion.

  Joey was screaming, standing with his back against the far wall.

  The creature stopped again, opening its mandibles wide. It produced a series of short, ratcheting chirps by rubbing a hind leg against its abdomen. The noise was almost at the edge of hearing.

  Reilly darted in, picked up a big chunk of cement, and caved in the bug’s head. The noise stopped.

  “C’mon, help me,” Andy said to Hector and Pyro. They pulled Gerry out from the rubble of the wall.

  “Is he … is he dead?” Hector asked, fearfully.

  Andy reached down and felt for a pulse at Gerry’s neck. “No. I can feel a heartbeat.” He checked the back of Gerry’s head. “Big bump back here.” He saw blood on his fingers when he drew his hand back. “We have to get him to a hospital.”

  “Hospital? Hospital!” Joey shrieked. “We can’t lug him around and still get outta here! Just leave him!”

  “No!” Andy shouted. “We don’t leave anybody, Joey … not even you!”

  Joey roared incoherently. He kicked out savagely at a box on the floor. “You’re dead!” he spat and stalked toward Andy, who stood frozen in surprise.

  “That’s it. I’ve had it with you,” Reilly grated. As Joey reached for Andy, Reilly grabbed Joey’s hand. He cocked his fist back, ready to throw a punch. Joey brought his other hand up to strike out at Reilly, but suddenly, it was caught from behind him by Shields. Pyro, Andy, and Hector waded in and pushed Joey back against a crate, where he was pinned.

  “Five against one? Is that how you creeps fight?” Joey said, uncertainly. He had never found himself in a situation like this before. He was usually the one doing the pushing around.

  “Why not?” Shields laughed mirthlessly. “That’s how you operate, isn’t it? It’s a little different when you’re the one who’s outnumbered.”

  “No fun being on the other end of it, huh, Joey?” said Pyro.

  “Hey, guys! I know what we can do with him! Let’s tie him up and leave him for the bugs. Gerry’s out cold, and we can say whatever we want,” Reilly said.

  Hector looked nervously at Reilly, who winked at him.

  “C’mon, you guys. You know I’m allergic to stings! I gotta get out of here!” Joey declared, sweating.

  “Hold it, guys,” Pyro said. “Maybe we can work out a little deal. Even though nothing would make me happier than to leave Joey here, we need him to help get Gerry out.”

  “Hey, yeah! You guys need me! I can help!” Joey said, desperately.

  Reilly pretended to think about it. “Hmmm. I don’t know. You’re sure that’s what you all want to do?”

  The boys nodded.

  Reilly grabbed Joey by the shirtfront, which looked ridiculous, since Joey towered over Reilly.

  “All right. You’re coming with us because we can use your help. I want you to remember this the next time you feel like picking on a smaller kid. When we had the chance for payback, we didn’t take it.” He pushed Joey away roughly.

  A faint chirping whine reached their ears.

  “Guys, I think we need to move,” Shields said nervously.

  “Unless anyone has a better idea, I think we should use the plan Gerry talked about,” Andy said. “We need to get the bus running and set off the sprinkler system. If we happen to think of a way to blow the building up without killing ourselves, that’d be good, too. The first thing is to find a way to move Gerry.”

  Pyro pointed behind some crates. “Hey, I think I just solved a couple of our problems!” he said. “Check this out.” He ran over and pulled a two-wheeled dolly out behind him. “We can use this to move Gerry around, see? If one guy is on each handle, and one more makes sure he doesn’t fall off …”

  “Yeah, that should work,” Andy said.

  “And this is the best part … c’mere,” Pyro said excitedly, dragging Andy by one arm. He stopped at on
e of the large drums of the intruder chemical. “Help me turn this a little.”

  Andy helped to turn the drum around a bit. Pyro pointed to a sticker on the side of the drum. He wiped some of the dust off it.

  Andy peered at it. It was a diamond-shaped label, with a symbol for “fire” on it. Underneath, it read FLAMMABLE.

  Pyro broke into gleeful laughter. “We can blow up the whole building and all the bugs with this stuff.”

  “Now all we need is a way to light it,” Andy mused.

  Shields came up behind them. “There are probably some road flares on the bus … you know, for emergencies or something.”

  “Some of the barrels are roped together. Maybe we could use the rope to help get Gerry out of here,” Hector said.

  Andy nodded. “Good idea, Hector.” He grabbed a cardboard carton filled with some kind of disinfectant wipes and dumped them out. “Everybody take a box and fill it with the sodium grenades, and try to take a couple of jars of the bigger chunks, too. We’ll need them.”

  Once everyone had some of the dangerous metal, they filed out of the room, half dragging, half carrying Gerry along.

  “Hey, hold it a second,” Hector said. He ran over to one of the drums containing the pheromone and unscrewed the cap. He tried to give it a shove, but it was much too heavy for him to budge.

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Reilly said, and helped Hector to tip two of the barrels over. They thunked heavily to the ground, and the chemicals sloshed out, spreading all over the floor.

  “YES!” Pyro crowed, as they all doused themselves with the sticky-sweet royalty chemical. “This is gonna be so freakin’ great!”

  Reilly looked down through the opening in the ceiling to the hallway below. There was sporadic bug traffic. They moved in fits and starts, touching the floor and walls every few steps with their segmented antennae.

  It was hot in the cramped space over the ceiling. The sweat was causing the pheromone to run down his arms, making his hands glossy and sticky. He looked at Shields and took a deep breath. “I hope this stuff works.”

  He lowered himself as far as he could, hanging by his hands a few feet above the floor. A worker bug was striding along the hallway and stopped just under Reilly’s feet. “Holy …!” he exclaimed. His hands were losing their grip. Shields grabbed his wrists.

  A small sentry bug scuttled down the corridor and climbed onto the larger bug’s back. They touched antennae briefly. Then the sentry reached up and touched Reilly’s sneakers. For a moment, it seemed startled. Its jaws opened uncertainly, then closed. The antennae touched him again.

  Reilly held his breath. He was losing his grip, and he could feel his wrists slipping through Shields’s hands.

  “Pull me back up!” he hissed.

  “I can’t hold on!” Shields grated.

  Reilly looked up. Shields’s face was dripping sweat, the tendons in his neck standing out like cables.

  “You’re slipping!” Shields cried.

  Reilly felt his fingers sliding from Shields’s hands. It almost felt like it was happening in slow motion. Suddenly, he slipped free, and the sound of his own scream filled his ears.

  He landed heavily on the floor, cracking the back of his head on the concrete in the middle of the corridor full of bugs. He held his breath and shut his eyes, expecting to be ripped to shreds by the creatures.

  “Hey … hey, Reilly,” Shields said softly from up in the ceiling. “I guess that chemical stuff does work, huh?”

  Reilly gingerly sat up and opened his eyes. The bugs were striding around him, brushing him with their antennae as they passed. He rubbed the back of his head.

  He stood slowly, shaking his head to clear it. “C’mon,” he said, “hand that sodium stuff down, and let’s get to the bus.”

  “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO? PULL, will ya? I want to get out of here, and I can’t if this guy is blocking the tunnel. PULL!” Joey bellowed in the narrow tunnel.

  Hector wailed, “He weighs a ton and a half.”

  “Yeah,” Pyro agreed, pushing sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes, “he makes up about six of us. You shoulda been up here pulling, and we should have been back there pushing, Einstein.”

  “If I have to crawl over this guy, I’m gonna rip off your arm and beat you with it,” Joey growled. “I want out of this stinkin’ tunnel.”

  Hector groaned. Andy looked behind him and saw that the tunnel mouth was only a few feet away.

  “We’re almost there,” he muttered. He grabbed a handful of Gerry’s soaked shirt. “Then we have to get him up the freakin’ ladder.”

  Hector swore under his breath.

  Andy tied one end of a length of rope around Joey’s waist and looped the other end under Gerry’s arms. Joey went up the ladder first, dragging the still unconscious scientist after him. Andy followed, pushing from underneath Gerry’s legs. It was slow going, but they were able to make it to the top of the ladder. They lifted Gerry onto the dolly and rolled him down the corridor.

  “All clear,” Andy said softly. He edged around the corner and beckoned to Joey, Pyro, and Hector, who were trundling the unconscious Gerry, slumped over a two-wheeled dolly. They were shaking with fatigue.

  A few worker bugs slunk up and down the corridors, intent on some task. Each of the creatures touched antennae as they passed each other, Andy noticed. Like they’re talking, he thought. The bugs were touching him as they strode by, stopping just for a moment. He was almost to the broken window where they had entered the school after the earthquake.

  “Andy. Hey, Andy!” Hector’s voice came from back up the hallway. There was a loud metallic noise. He turned back to see what the problem was.

  Hector and Pyro were trying to hold Gerry up by themselves. The dolly was lying on the ground, and Joey was flat against the wall, eyes clenched shut, muttering softly. He jumped slightly as the bugs trooped up and down the corridor.

  Andy rushed over to help lower Gerry to the tiled floor. Pyro was turning purple with the effort.

  “Watch his head!” Hector cried as the injured scientist’s skull cracked against the floor. He groaned softly, and his eyelids fluttered.

  “He’s not gonna be a scientist after that,” Hector mumbled.

  “This must be some kind of bug superhighway or something,” Shields said, as he and Reilly slowly made their way through the administration offices for the school.

  The bugs filled the corridors; sometimes climbing over one another to continue whatever errand they were on.

  The antennae of the bugs that passed them constantly grazed the boys. So far, the royalty chemical seemed to be working effectively.

  The sentries had set up “roadblocks” at different corridor intersections, perched on the heads of the massive soldier bugs. At each roadblock, a huge soldier bug would raise its head and open its jaws menacingly, halting the boys’ progress momentarily. The tiny eyes of the soldiers were almost useless. The little sentries were almost like “guide dogs” for the much larger soldiers.

  The sentries were more thorough with their examination, touching them in several places and studying the boys with their glittering, faceted eyes.

  At the first roadblock, Reilly said nervously, “I think these little guys must be smarter than the big ones. They can tell that something’s not right with us.” Shields nodded.

  Once a sentry was convinced by the royalty pheromone that they were not a danger to the colony, they were allowed to proceed.

  The hallway that led to the administration offices was deserted. The floor was strewn with broken glass and splinters of wood. Doors had been torn from their hinges. The floor was covered with dark red stains.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Shields asked. He brought a hand up to his mouth.

  Reilly replied, “If you’re thinking it’s blood, then yeah, it’s what you think it is.” He looked at a dark red handprint on the wall. “They’ve been through here already. There’s no more … food … so they’re just ignoring it,
I guess.”

  The offices were all open, and the boys slowly made their way from office to office, gingerly crunching over broken glass, looking for anything that might be helpful.

  “Hey, check it out,” Reilly said. The next office they explored was labeled SECURITY. “Might be something in here.”

  Light from the windows didn’t penetrate into the small security office. Shields whacked his shin against an overturned chair, and he swore in surprise and pain.

  “Hey, a desk,” Reilly said. He felt around the jumble of papers and folders strewn haphazardly across its surface. “Huh. Nothing useful on top. Let’s see if there’s anything in the drawers,” he muttered. “Oh, yeah. Here we go,” he said, and a flashlight beam lit the whole room interior. Papers and trash were strewn everywhere. Two dented steel filing cabinets stood against one wall. The drawers were stuck closed. There was another flashlight on the floor, but it had been left on, and the batteries were dead. Dried blood was smeared on the lens.

  “Ugh.” Shields gagged and dropped it, and it clattered to the ground. He stood with his hands on his knees, head bowed down. He retched convulsively a couple times, but calmed down. He straightened up, his eyes hollow looking in the flashlight’s beam.

  “What’s this?” he asked, picking up a short, chunky device from the floor. He pressed a button on the gadget’s handle, and a blue-white arc of electricity buzzed and crackled between terminals on the thing’s end. He yelped in surprise.

  “Nice find! Gimme that thing,” Reilly demanded. He held it in the beam of the flashlight. “This is a Taser. We might be able to use it against the bugs. Or I might just use it on Joey.”

  A metal shelf was bolted to the wall, containing some walkie-talkies. Next to them was a locked rack holding a shotgun.

  Shields took the dead flashlight and banged on the tiny lock securing the gun. It broke easily, and he hefted the gun.

  “Know how to use that?” Reilly asked.