by John Everson
“Ouch,” she cried as she jerked back from his cock. “Oww!” she said again. Something was pinching her tongue. She spit his cum to the ground, as her tongue suddenly lit up with a dozen separate pains. She stuck it out and could see at the base of her vision that there were black shapes stuck to the tip. They moved as she watched, eight tiny legs creeping across her taste buds like some hideous cum crabs. Tori screamed, for a second, but then realized that she needed to get them out of her mouth, and screaming was only going to let them crawl down her throat. With her fingers, she scraped them off, in between spitting again and again. Her stomach was threatening to heave, but she was still trying to fathom what had just happened. Nate had just come…bugs? In her mouth?
She stared at the milky gob on the ground and saw it churning with tiny black legs, and the occasional flash of a purple streak.
What the…
She looked up just in time to see Nate topple over, still holding his head. As he hit the ground, he let out one jagged howl, and then was silent.
“Nate!” she cried. For a moment she forgot the taste in her mouth and grabbed for his hand. He didn’t respond. His body was limp, and his eyes closed. She slipped an arm behind his head and levered his head onto the log. The tiny spiders were crawling out of his limp penis now, and disappearing into his dark thatch of pubic hair. The light was almost gone, but when she leaned closer, she could see that there were spiders crawling in the hair on his head too. One skittered about near the bottom of his right eye, and she brushed it off, shrieking as she touched the hard shell of its abdomen.
Nate didn’t move. He didn’t answer her when she slapped his face and called his name, begging him to wake up.
She wanted to run, but she couldn’t just leave him like this. What was happening here? Jesus! For a split second, she wondered if they’d gotten some bad grass, and she was hallucinating. Didn’t they say when you tripped bad, your skin crawled, like you were covered in bugs? She had felt the wave of “relax” hit her fast with this joint. And even now…time seemed to slip for a second, and then she was looking at Nate from a different angle. She could see that there were spiders streaming from his ear. They ran in single file down his shoulder and across the bites on his chest. Some of them reached the grass and her feet. They crawled up her feet. Tiny bites freckled her ankles and calves but as soon as she slapped some away, more took their place.
“Nate!” she screamed again and again, rubbing the spiders off her legs. She slapped his face. “Wake up, damn it!”
His body shuddered. One eyelid lifted, and a word croaked out of his throat.
“Help,” he said.
And then a piece of his eyeball seemed to just…cave inward. One minute his pupil was locked on hers, and then all of a sudden, it imploded. As it did, a stream of black spiders with violet slashes on their backs ran out from the depths of his head, and across his face.
That did it for Tori. She screamed and leapt to her feet. She didn’t even pick up her clothes, she couldn’t think of anything but to get away from this…this…horror.
She ran back the way they’d come, dashing across the small clearing to the rough path, but she didn’t get very far down it before she had to stop, panicked or not. She couldn’t run because she couldn’t see a blessed thing. Not only had she left her clothes, she’d left the flashlight—and it was pitch-black here.
Her feet kept getting pierced by sharp sticks and pine needles. And then her calves were getting pinched. And her back. And her shoulders. She slapped at the things that bit her, but whenever she felt one spider crush against her skin, another bite needled her from someplace else.
Tori crept forward, testing the ground ahead with her toes before committing to a step. Finally, she stepped out into another tiny clearing between trees and finally caught enough moonlight to see again.
Part of her wished that she hadn’t.
Because she saw that her body was crawling with dark shapes. All of them biting. A thousand mosquito bites, a thousand fire ant bites, all at once. She screamed once more, in complete hysteria as they flowed up her neck to her cheeks in a wave. She slapped and slapped and danced around like a maniac, but the spiders didn’t let go.
In a few seconds, the venom joined the marijuana in her blood, and Tori was suddenly, horribly calm. The pain of the bites transmuted to a strange bliss, and she fell to the ground next to a tree. She reached out a hand to touch the rough bark. Maybe for a fleeting moment, she tried to pull herself back up.
And then the world for Tori slipped away until there was only a black void.
The spiders began to feed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Thursday, May 16. 7:46 a.m.
On her way to work, Rachel saw someone posting a sign on the street lamppost at the end of her block. When she stopped at the next stop sign, she saw another one. And two blocks later, another one. She pulled up close and saw that the photocopied sign showed the picture of a dog in the center. She could make out three words: Binky, Missing and Reward.
Rachel shook her head. She hated seeing signs like those. They were like those pictures of kids you saw on the back of milk cartons (when you still actually bought a small carton, instead of a big plastic jug). She always turned the milk carton photos around. Looking at those grainy photos was just too depressing. Rachel couldn’t stand thinking of poor innocent kids—or puppies or cats or any living thing—lost and alone, wandering in search of home. The thought alone made her stomach tense up. Seeing those kinds of Lost signs always reminded her of how precious life was…and of how your situation could change for the worse in a heartbeat.
It was one thing to take control of your situation and change it, as she had done with Anders. It was hard to move to a new place and make a new life…but that was a conscious choice she had made. She wasn’t “lost”…if anything, she had finally found herself.
But a young kid or a pet that loses its way? They had no real understanding of the world. They hadn’t really made an informed choice to leave their comfortable bed behind to wander alone in the swamps. They couldn’t open a smart phone and do a Google Maps search with directions to find the way back home.
They were at the mercy of whoever, or whatever, happened upon them.
Rachel thought of Eric and Feral, and felt an overpowering need to turn around, go home, and hug them close.
Sadly, while as an adult you might have the ability to go where you wanted, the reality was that most times, you couldn’t. Rachel swallowed the emotions and continued driving to work. If she lost her job for showing up late, or not at all, Eric and Feral would have almost as much of a problem as if they were lost on their own.
Because she wouldn’t be able to keep a roof over their heads or food in their bellies.
The day went predictably slow. Rachel envied those stay-at-home moms who got to take their kids to school and then returned home to do housework. Sure, they had a hard job. Probably harder than the office work she was doing. But they did, to some extent, make their own schedules and could “go to work” in their sweatpants and T-shirts. And if they didn’t feel like cleaning the house or doing the dishes that day…they could blow it off. And not get fired.
Rachel couldn’t blow any of her day job’s tasks off. And she pretty much hated all of them. “But that’s why they call it work,” she reminded herself.
But a single woman who worked? She had to work two jobs. She had to be gone eight or nine hours a day doing someone else’s menial labor, and then come home and still manage to do all her own housework too. No relaxing time for her; she almost never had an hour or two to herself.
She thought back to the Lost signs. Maybe it would be better to be lost, she mused, as she pulled her car into the parking lot. And then chided herself. Quit the crabbing and go to work! She laughed to herself. At least you have a job.
The one bright spot of the day was when Terry called and offered to take her to lunch. She accepted almost before he finished asking. They w
ouldn’t have much time together, but she looked forward to seeing him again, even if it only for an hour. He picked her up in his park ranger truck and drove a couple blocks down Central Avenue to Johnny’s Beef & Reef. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of fried fast food joint tucked between a pawn shop and a hair salon in a strip mall. People didn’t go there for the atmosphere, but the burgers and fries were pretty good. Rachel hadn’t braved the “reef” side of the menu yet.
“So, who is minding the Everglades while you’re here stuffing your face?” she asked sweetly after they’d sat down at a tiny red-and-white-checked table.
Terry shrugged. “Sometimes the wildlife can take care of itself without my help. And any women who fall down on the trail while jogging? Well, they’ll just be waiting there for a while, I guess. Everyone’s entitled to a lunch break. And, you know, it’s pretty rare that I need to be jogging down the trails to rescue a fair jogger in need.”
“All right, all right,” she grumbled. “So I’m a klutz. You’ve made your point. But…what do you do out there in the Everglades all day? I mean, I know you patrol the trails, but…”
“But do I really just drive around all day?” he asked. Terry grinned. “Yep. I hang out in my pickup, listen to Skynyrd and sometimes even tilt back a cold one out there near the cypress trees.”
Rachel rolled her eyes as she took a bite of the Baja Burger. Pea-green guacamole oozed over her fingers and she began to lick it off her fingers when she saw Terry watching her. Noting his attention, she slowed down the action, and sucked each finger off, slowly.
“Will you keep doing that if I tell you more about my job?” he asked.
Rachel bit her tongue between her teeth playfully. “Maybe.”
He smiled. “You’d be surprised at some of the stuff we do. It is a lot of driving, but we’re not just looking for klutzy joggers. Sometimes we’re rescuing injured or trapped animals, or escorting ’gators off the walking paths.”
Rachel’s eyebrows raised. “They come on the trails?”
He shrugged. “Sure, where do you think the best food is going to be found? Jogging trails are like a smorgasbord.”
Her eyes opened even wider.
“Kidding. But they do tend to wander up there sometimes and it’s safer for everyone if we get them back into the wetter end of the swamp.” He stopped talking a minute and nodded at her fingers. “You stopped.”
Rachel swiped her finger across a clump of greasy ketchup on her plate and then slipped the finger between her lips, sucking it slowly and provocatively. “Tewl meh mo’,” she slurred around the finger. Then her composure cracked and she bit her finger as the laugh took over.
“Well, probably the thing we do the most that you’d never guess is…well, we’re really poorly paid firemen.”
Rachel frowned. “Fires? In the swamp?”
He nodded. “They’re usually started by a lightning strike. In those prairie areas where there is a lot of tall dry grass, or in the areas covered with pines, a lightning strike can start a fire that burns for hundreds of acres. It’s actually a good thing—the fire clears the ground for new growth, and sometimes will open up areas to new water paths. But we need to monitor any burning areas, and step in if the fire is moving towards any inhabited areas. A little fire is good; a lot can be catastrophic.”
Rachel raised her eyebrows and then took another bite of her burger, thinking about the variety of Terry’s work. She envied that.
“And then sometimes, we just walk around and catch pythons,” he added.
Rachel snorted, almost losing her mouthful of food. She swallowed, and then said, “I think your job is a little more interesting than mine.”
Terry shrugged. “They all have ups and downs. If you’re a forest ranger down here, you better like sweating your ass off most days. And I gotta tell you, the pay sucks. But I love the fact that we’re doing something to help and preserve the environment. I used to work as a computer tech—helping people install software and replace video cards and install memory and get rid of viruses. I was helping people, I guess, but I have to tell you…being a ranger is way more rewarding. It just feels like this means more, you know?”
Rachel thought about the files she needed to work on when she got back to the office and nodded. What real meaning did anything that she did at work have in the long run? If it didn’t get done…what difference would it really make in the scheme of things? Meanwhile, Terry was actually saving the lives of people and animals and helping to preserve a really special place.
“You stopped again,” he pointed out as she lifted the last of her burger to her mouth.
“Maybe I’ll show it to you again later,” she said.
“Does that mean I need to pick you up for dinner?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“Hmmm,” he observed. “Noncommittal.”
Rachel shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be dinner.”
He nodded. “Got it. Have you ever camped out in the Everglades? Maybe you could show me it again over a campfire breakfast.”
“I can’t do sleepovers without Eric,” she reminded. “Plus, I don’t have a tent.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “You can share mine.”
“Wow,” she grinned. “Forward.”
“I like to think of it as…conservation.”
“Uh-huh.”
They both grinned, and Rachel could barely keep herself from laughing. She was really enjoying this guy. But then she noticed the Ham’s clock on the back wall behind the ketchup dispenser. It said 1:03 p.m. She needed to get back.
She didn’t even open her mouth and Terry was already pushing back his chair. “I need to get you back, I know,” he said. “Promise me another chance at this tomorrow night?”
“You got it. But only if you tell me more exciting stories about fires and alligators.”
“Deal.”
Terry opened the pickup door for her, which made Rachel smile. She was pretty sure Anders had never thought to open a door for her. Ever. Five minutes later they were back at her office building.
As she reached down to pick up her purse, Terry touched her arm. She looked up a little surprised and saw a serious look on his face.
“Hey,” he said. His voice was quiet.
“What?”
“I really like seeing you.”
Rachel smiled. “I’m pretty happy about the situation myself.” She leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, but at the last second Terry turned, and she met his lips. Her eyes widened as his hand slipped around her shoulders, but she didn’t pull away.
His mouth was warm and soft, and very, very welcome. Rachel felt her entire body flush as they kissed. But after returning the hug, she pulled away. “I need to get in,” she whispered. Her voice was a little breathless.
He nodded. “I have alligators to mind. And klutzy joggers.”
“I hope you don’t kiss all the klutzy joggers you find,” she said.
“Only the cute ones.” He winked. Then his face got serious again. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to tell you—keep Eric and Feral close to the house the next couple days.”
Rachel frowned. “How come?”
“You’ve heard about the fly swarms around town this week, haven’t you?”
“Yeah, they’re going through some kind of migratory thing from the Everglades, why?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe they’re from the Everglades. Maybe not. I’ve never seen this species at all, and nobody I know has either. We’ve sent a couple samples for identification to the national forest ranger headquarters.”
“But what does that have to do with Eric?”
“Well, it’s not just flies,” he said. “There’s been a swarm of spiders turning up all around town as well. And we’ve found several dogs and cats on the edge of the preserve lately. Almost nothing left of them.”
“You think the spiders have something to do with that?”
He nodded. “The carcasses have all been covered
with the things. I think they’re poisonous. And damned aggressive!”
“You know, Billy across the street was on an island a couple weeks ago and got attacked by spiders and flies…” she began.
“Yeah, I know,” he said. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence. And I’m not sure these things are going away. But I do think the two species are somehow connected.”
“Well, it is odd that we’ve got bug problems from two types at the same time. But how would they be connected?”
“The spiders and the flies are both species that we’ve never catalogued before,” he said. “And they both have one thing in common.”
“What’s that?”
“They both have violet eyes.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Thursday, May 16. 4:15 p.m.
“Cut it out!” Aaron complained, and ran to the backstop to get the ball. His younger brother Tommy thought it was funny to throw the ball just out of range of his glove. “We’re supposed to be playing ‘catch’ not ‘chase’!”
“Sorry,” Tommy answered, but from the way he was smiling, he didn’t look to be very sorry at all.
Aaron swung his arm back and released the ball hard. It hit Tommy’s mitt with a thwack that pushed him back two steps. But it hit his mitt.
“Like that,” Aaron yelled from home plate. “You’re supposed to at least try to throw it to the other person’s mitt.”
They had the baseball diamond to themselves this afternoon, and Aaron had brought Tommy out here to practice catching. Aaron had joined Little League this year, and while he did pretty good at hitting, his catching sucked. He was tired of hearing about it from both his coach and his friends…and tired of being embarrassed when someone threw him a great pickoff toss and he managed to bobble the ball. When the coach said, “It’s okay, you almost got him,” Aaron knew it really wasn’t okay at all. The coach’s smile always looked forced. So he’d dragged his brother out here to help him get better. But Tommy throwing it completely out of his range wasn’t helping.