A lot of it had just looked like bog-standard rioting, although quite a lot more enthusiastic than usual. There was the run-of-the-mill looting, vandalism and arson happening on pretty much every street, but here and there she’d seen groups of people chasing individuals down. She’d always looked away before they caught up, preferring to imagine that the person being chased had somehow made it to safety.
She’d expected the police station to be safe, but from the moment they’d entered she knew it wasn’t. She was filled with a sudden nagging doubt that nowhere would ever be safe again.
The glass doors hung off their hinges. Furniture was upturned, broken or both. Smoke poured from the windows on two different floors, and while there was a lot of blood spattered across the walls and other surfaces, there was no-one – police officer or otherwise – to be found.
“Martin? I said where is everyone?”
“I don’t… I don’t know,” Marshall admitted. “Maybe they left.”
“Left? What, all of them? They all just left?”
“Maybe! Like I said, I don’t know, Leanne, OK?” Marshall snapped. He squeezed the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I don’t… maybe they’re upstairs.”
He looked to the ceiling, then frowned. “No, wait.” His eyes went to the floor. “Let’s check the cells.”
“Why the cells?” asked Leanne. “It’s cops we’re looking for, not prisoners.”
“Safest place in the building,” said Marshall. “It’s like a vault down there.”
He pressed the call button on the elevator. There was a metallic squeal and grinding sound from somewhere inside the shaft. Marshall shot Leanne a sideways glance.
“Maybe we should take the stairs.”
***
The basement level was in darkness. Marshall flicked the light switches a few times, as if that might somehow fix the fault. When it didn’t, he reached into his pocket for his mobile to use as a torch, then remembered it was back in the flat, still wedged under his mattress.
Marshall backtracked up to the ground floor and rummaged in the front desk until he found a torch. Halfway down the stairs again, he heard Leanne whisper.
“Ssh,” she urged. “Quiet.”
Marshall tip-toed the last few steps. “What is it?” he whispered.
“I heard something,” Leanne said. Marshall could only faintly make out her outline in the dark. She pointed towards where he knew the main cells door lay. Sure enough, if he listened, he could hear something, too. It sounded like…
“Is that… is that someone muttering?” Marshall said. He clicked on the torch. “Sir? That you?”
A circle of light illuminated the small square window in the door. A flabby, pock-marked face scrunched up in the sudden glare. “Fuck. Watch where you’re pointing that thing,” spat Detective Chief Inspector Hoon. “Marshall? Is that you?”
Marshall approached the door. “Aye. Aye, it’s me.”
“About fucking time,” Hoon snapped. “I told you to knock off early, no’ vanish off the face of the fucking Earth. D’you know how many times I tried to phone?”
“I’ve a pretty good idea, aye,” Marshall admitted. He reached for the button to open the door, but Hoon’s sudden shout stopped him.
“Don’t open it!”
Marshall froze. “What? Why?”
Hoon took a deep breath. “How fucked up is it out there?”
Marshall glanced back at Leanne. “Pretty bad.”
“Aye, well it’s no’ exactly been a bed of roses down here, either,” Hoon said. “Morrison’s dead.”
Marshall blinked. “Morrison?”
“Aye.”
“Who’s Morrison?”
“Fuck’s sake,” Hoon tutted. “Sergeant Morrison. You know. With the wife that got caught shagging her stepbrother.”
“Sergeant Watson?” said Marshall.
Hoon twitched with irritation. “Whatever his fucking name is. He’s dead.”
“Shit. You sure?”
DCI Hoon glanced back over his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure, aye,” he said. “If he’s not, it won’t be for want of me fucking trying. Now, about that button.”
Marshall reached for it again.
“No! I didn’t mean press it! Jesus. Listen.” Hoon took another deep breath. “There’s something in here with me.”
Marshall frowned. “What?”
“Bugs,” said Hoon.
Leanne stepped forward. “Bugs?”
“Who the fuck’s she?” Hoon asked.
“My upstairs neighbor,” Marshall explained. “It’s… It’s a long story. What do you mean, ‘bugs’?”
“I mean bugs. I can’t put it any more plainly than that. There’s bugs in here. A lot of bugs. If I was feeling descriptive, I’d go so far as to say it’s fucking hoachin’ wi’ bugs.”
There was a long silence while Marshall waited for more. “So?” he asked, eventually.
Hoon laughed to himself. “‘So?’ he says. So, we don’t want the bugs getting out there. Trust me on that.”
Marshall felt himself frowning again. It was becoming a habit. “So… what? We just leave you in there?”
“Aye, you wish,” Hoon said. “No. You’re going to open the door, then slam it behind me before any of them get out. Got that?”
Marshall nodded. “Got it.”
“Right,” said Hoon. He rocked from foot to foot. “Don’t hit the button until I tell you. I’m going to scare these wee bastards back a bit.”
Marshall shot Leanne a concerned glance. “Scare the bugs back?”
“Aye. They won’t come near me. Christ knows why. Not that I’m complaining.” He cricked his neck. “Right, get ready,” he said, then he turned and ran into the corridor, roaring at the top of his voice.
“Is he always like that?” Leanne asked.
Marshall started to shake his head, then stopped. “I’d like to say ‘no,’ but… pretty much,” Marshall admitted, then he jumped when Hoon screamed at him to hit the button.
A single tone rang out as Marshall slapped the door open button. Hoon hit the door hard and tumbled through. “Shut it!” he bellowed, tripping and falling forwards onto the floor.
Marshall put his weight behind the door and slammed it closed. There was a sound like heavy hailstones hitting the metal on the other side.
“Check the floor!” Hoon barked. Marshall swung the beam of the torch down. He found himself sighing with relief when he saw the floor at their feet was a bug-free zone.
“It’s OK. Nothing came through,” he said.
“Something nearly did,” said Leanne.
She bent at the waist and leaned down to look at the bottom of the door. There, trapped between the door and the frame, was a shiny black insect. Only its head and front pincers had made it through the gap. It wriggled and squirmed, the pincers grabbing at the air.
Marshall shuddered. “That’s the biggest beetle I’ve ever seen,” he said.
“It’s no’ a beetle,” said Hoon, standing up and dusting himself down. In the glow of the torch, Marshall saw a spray batter of blood on his shirt and heavy grazing on his knuckles. “It’s a bug.”
“How do you know it’s not a beetle?” said Leanne. “It looks like one.”
Hoon rolled his eyes. “I don’t care what it fucking looks like, sweetheart, it’s no’ a beetle,” he said. “And how do I know? Because it told me.”
Leanne’s brow furrowed. “It told you?”
“Aye,” Hoon growled, rounding on her. “What’s wrong with that?”
Leanne quickly shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Bollocks. I just told you a bug talked to me. Everything’s wrong with that. Grow a fucking backbone, sweetheart,” Hoon said.
“So… it didn’t talk to you?” Marshall asked.
“Oh, no. It did,” said Hoon. “Well, no’ that one, but another one. It’s talking to me now, actually.” He looked slowly between them both. “It’s tellin
g me I should kill the pair of you. Shove my thumbs through your eye sockets.”
Marshall and Leanne stiffened. They both reached for the knives they had tucked into their belts.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to listen to it,” Hoon said. “See, I think I’ve figured out what’s happening.” He glanced left and right, as if about to impart a great secret. “I think these bugs are turning people into big angry mad bastards, but I had something working in my favor.”
He tapped himself on the temple again. “I was a big angry mad bastard to begin with. I think about killing half the bastards in this place on a daily basis.”
Marshall swallowed. “That’s… uh… reassuring.”
Hoon nodded his agreement, then puffed out his cheeks and pointed upwards. “Now, what’s say we go up there and find out just how fucked we all are?”
***
“Pretty fucked, I’d say,” said Marshall. He and DCI Hoon stood in the station doorway, gazing out at the city. Most of it was burning now, but there were no more sirens to be heard, just shouts and screams and breaking glass. The sound of a city dying.
Marshall looked at his boss. “What do we do? Should we try to help?”
Hoon shook his head. “We’re far past that stage. Get your girlfriend. We need to go.”
“She’s not my girlfriend, she’s only thirteen!”
“Fifteen,” corrected Leanne from behind them.
“Still illegal, though,” Marshall protested.
Leanne joined them in the doorway. “What’s illegal?”
“Us, you know, having… uh… sexual relations.”
Leanne’s eyes went wide. “Jesus.”
Marshall blushed. “No, I’m not… I wasn’t saying…” He looked imploring at Hoon, but the DCI was shaking his head and frowning so deeply he appeared to have just one big eyebrow.
“Fuck’s sake, detective inspector,” Hoon muttered. “Get a hold of yourself. As I was saying, we need to get out of here.”
“And go where?” Marshall asked.
“My sister’s got a place up north. In Highbridge.”
“Never heard of it,” said Marshall.
“No-one’s fucking heard of it. That’s the point, there’s no bastard there. It’s just outside Fort William. We’ll head there and see what the score is.”
“What about my mum and dad?” Leanne asked.
Both officers turned to look at her. “Where are they?” asked Hoon.
“Spain.”
“Oh, well in that case we’ll swing by and pick them up on the way,” Hoon said. “I’ve got my private jet on standby. We’ll whizz over there and--”
“Uh, OK, sir. She gets the point,” said Marshall.
Hoon opened his mouth to say something else, then stopped himself. He looked at Leanne, but she kept her face turned away. “Sorry,” Hoon said. “That was out of order.”
Leanne shrugged, but said nothing.
“I’m sure they’re fine. I bet none of this is happening over there. They’re probably having a great time,” said Marshall. “And we’ll look after you until it’s all sorted out. Then you’ll be back with them.”
Leanne glanced up at him. “That’s bollocks,” she said. “But thanks.”
Hoon clapped her on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit. Right then, campers, let’s hit the road.” He made for the door, then hesitated. “Oh, but before we do, has anyone got the key for the gun cabinet?”
Marshall shook his head. “No.”
There was a jingling of metal as Hoon held up a hefty bunch of keys. “Good job I have then, eh?”
SHOP WISE GROCERY STORE, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS
24th May, 8:55 PM
Jaden flipped the keys once around his finger, then stared at the lemon-yellow monstrosity in front of him. “Holy shit,” he said. “That’s the ugliest car I’ve ever seen.”
Col thought briefly about arguing, but decided it was a losing battle. Joe’s car was a rusted old Fiat Multipla, and while Col didn’t know a whole lot about cars, everything about this one, from its odd shape to the way it slouched to one side screamed ‘no’.
“It’s got headlights on the windshield. Who builds a car with headlights on the windshield?” Jaden asked. “And who then chooses to buy said car?”
Col shrugged. “You know, Joe’s old.”
“Yes, old, not fucking blind,” said Jaden. “Sorry, end of the world or not, I cannot be seen driving this thing.”
He tossed Col the keys. Col fumbled for a moment, but managed to keep hold of them. There was a keyring with a little picture of Joe on it. A girl, maybe around four-years-old, was hugging him tightly. A granddaughter, Col guessed. “Poor Joe,” he said, then he unlocked the doors.
The driver’s seat was pushed almost all the way forward. Col had to shove it all the way back so he could fit behind the wheel. Jaden jumped into the seat behind him and immediately wrinkled his nose. “Ew. It smells like old person.”
“Jesus, Jaden, have some respect,” Col said. “Joe’s dead.”
“Well then he isn’t going to take offence then, is he?” Jaden said. “Besides, we’re stealing his car, that’s not exactly respectful either.”
“We’re not stealing it, we’re borrowing it,” said Jaden, turning the key and spluttering the engine reluctantly into life. “We’ll go find help. Flag down a cop or something, and get all this sorted out.”
Jaden gave a dry laugh as Col reversed out of the parking bay. “You don’t get it, do you?” he said. “You still think it’s all going to be fine. Have you seen The Walking Dead? Dawn of the Dead? Pretty much anything with ‘dead’ in the title, actually? This is how it starts. This is the beginning of the end.”
Col pulled up at the exit to the car park and stopped. “Yeah, but those are movies and TV shows,” he pointed out. “Real life doesn’t work that way.”
“Tell that to Joe,” he said, then something off to the right caught his eye. “And if everything’s fine, what about that?”
Col leaned forward and looked out through the passenger side window. A white hatchback was on its roof a hundred yards or so along the street. By the looks of it, it had rolled a few times before coming to rest.
“That’s just an accident,” said Col. “Just an unfortunate accident.”
“Yeah? Then where are the cops? Where are the paramedics?” Jaden asked. “In Heaven, that’s where. Because they’re all dead.”
“Shut up,” said Col.
“I’m fucking telling you, dude,” Jaden continued, but Col interrupted him before he could go any further.
“No, Jaden, shut up. Look!”
Jaden followed Col’s finger. At first, he thought his friend was pointing at the car, but then he saw it: a silver shape in the sky above the wreckage. It was big, and getting rapidly bigger. “Is that…?” Jaden’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit. Drive, drive, drive!”
Col wheel spun out of the car park and skidded left onto the street. The car whined pathetically as he floored the accelerator. Col jumped up and down in the seat, as if that would somehow force the thing to go faster. “Move, you piece of shit!” he sobbed.
Jaden was sitting half-turned in his seat, ducking low so he could see out through the back windscreen. “It’s gaining on us!”
“Of course it’s fucking gaining on us!” Col shouted. “It’s a plane!”
Two miles back, but less than half a mile in the air, a passenger jet plunged after them, tilting as it fell.
“Hurry up!”
“I can’t hurry it up! It’s going as fast as it can!”
Jaden whipped round and grabbed for his seat belt. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck?”
“What?” Col demanded. “Is it going to—?”
There was a sound, louder than any Col had ever heard before. No, not a sound, lots of sounds. Hundreds of them, thousands, all happening at the same time behind them, every one of them terrible.
There was a light which flared the evening sky in orange. The
re was a warmth, which became a heat, which became a hiss of pain on Col’s lips.
The terrible sounds caught up. Col heard Jaden scream.
And the world went dark.
GLASGOW NW POLICE HQ, GLASGOW, SCOTLAND
25th MAY, 2:57 AM
Leanne hurried along beside Marshall, her knife gripped tightly in her hand again. Hoon marched on ahead, muttering below his breath.
“He’s not happy about the guns, is he?” Leanne whispered.
“No,” said Marshall, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t fancy being whoever took them if he finds them.”
“What do you think about all that stuff he said? About the bug?”
Marshall puffed out his cheeks and shrugged. “No idea.”
“Is he dangerous?” Leanne asked.
“What? Uh, no, no he’s not dangerous,” Marshall said, although he felt the need to add, “Don’t think so,” just to cover himself.
Hoon looked back over his shoulder. “Keep up, you pair,” he called. “I swear, if we get to the car park and find out there’s no riot wagons left, I will not be a happy man.”
A moment later, they reached the car park. There were no riot wagons left. Hoon, to his word, was not a happy man.
“Bastards! The fucking robbing bastards!”
“The wagons would’ve been out on call, sir,” Marshall pointed out. “You know, dealing with rioting like they’re supposed to.”
Hoon shouted a few more obscenities at the world at large, then took a deep breath and smoothed down his overcoat. “Right. We need a vehicle.”
“My car’s parked out front,” Marshall said.
“Right. OK. What kind is it?”
“A Renault Clio.”
Hoon buried his face in his hands. “Fuck!” he shouted. “OK, fine. That’ll have to do. Let’s go.”
They turned to find a small crowd of people gathered behind them. Leanne raised her knife, and Marshall fumbled in his belt for his. Hoon cast his eye over the crowd and stepped forward.
The Bug - Episode 2 Page 4