A man lay stretched out on the bathroom floor. Dead. Definitely dead. It would be impossible, Col’s racing mind decided, to be any deader.
The man - in his fifties, Jaden guessed, though his current situation made it difficult to be sure – had been cut in half from top to bottom, splitting him into two perfectly even parts. The wound – although that word hardly seemed to do it justice - looked surgical in its precision, the cut running cleanly down the center of the man’s face from the top of his head, splitting him all the way to the groin.
The halves had been pushed apart by almost a meter or so, but where there should have been a gloop of blood, guts and other innards pooling in the space between them, there was nothing but shiny bathroom floor tiles.
Col stared at the dead man. His stomach tightened. He bent double and vomited what little he still had in his stomach all over the carpet at his feet. For once, Jaden had no wisecracks to offer, not even when Col’s puke splashed up over his shoes. Instead, he slowly leaned forward and pulled the bathroom door closed.
Cutting the man off from view seemed to snap Amanda out of her trance. She blinked, frowned, then looked around, her dark skin now an ash gray. “What… what happened to that man?” she said.
“I don’t know, but I think we picked the wrong house,” Jaden said. “We should find somewhere else. Right?”
He looked at the others. Amanda and Col both just stared back, like they couldn’t figure out what he was asking. Amy gave a brief but decisive nod. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, let’s get out of here before--”
Thump.
The sudden sound stopped Amy in mid-sentence. All four of them drew in a breath and held it. Held it. Held it.
For a long time, there was no noise on the landing but the occasional creaking of the floorboards beneath Amanda as she rocked anxiously from foot to foot. They had almost convinced themselves that they’d imagined it when another noise came. This was a low scraping sound, like something hard and sharp digging into wood. As the scraping and scratching grew faster and faster, the pictures hanging on the landing walls began to rattle and shake.
“What is that?” Amanda whispered. She spun on the spot. “Where is it coming from?”
“I don’t know!” Jaden said.
“I think I do,” said Col, his voice barely more than a whisper. He swallowed. He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself.
Then, slowly – ever so slowly – he looked up.
INVERLOCHY CASTLE HOTEL, FORT WILLIAM, SCOTLAND
May 25th, 11:49 AM
Hoon braked sharply outside the wrought iron gates, and tutted as the soldiers on the other side snapped their rifles up and took aim.
“Check out this pair o’ arseholes,” he said. “Think they’re the fucking A-Team.”
He reached into the back seat for the rifle Moira had given him. From the passenger seat, Leanne shot him a worried look. “Is that wise?” she whispered, so as not to wake Immy, who was fast asleep in her arms.
Hoon had sent Leanne through to Moira’s spare room, insisting she should get a couple of hours sleep, too, but she’d managed maybe forty-five minutes, and had woken up feeling more tired than ever.
“If they see you with that, they might shoot you,” she pointed out, yawning.
Hoon shrugged. “They might, aye,” he admitted, throwing open the door. “But fingers crossed they don’t, eh?”
The soldiers kept their weapons on him as he stepped out of the car. Behind him, Marshall pulled up with Daniel and Moira, but kept the engine running as Hoon had instructed.
“Put down the gun,” barked one of the men beyond the gate.
“What gun?” said Hoon. He looked down at the rifle in his hands, acting surprised, like he was only just noticing it. “Oh, you mean this gun? Naw. I think I’ll hang onto it.”
“Put it down. Now!” ordered the other man, squinting to peer down the sights of his own weapon.
“Keep your fucking beret on, ye jackboot-wearing prick,” Hoon said, so matter-of-factly that it took both men by surprise. “And open the gate, we’ve got a young lassie and a baby here.”
The soldiers peered into the car, then back at Hoon. “Put down the gun or we will open fire.”
“Just you fucking try it, son,” Hoon said. He held up his ID. “DCI Hoon, Police Scotland. You put your guns down or you’re both under arrest.”
The men exchanged a glance. “What?” one of them asked.
“You heard. Has Marshall Law been declared?” Hoon asked, drilling into both men with his boggle-eyed stare. “Hmm? Has someone put the military in charge of law and order in this fair country of ours? Did that happen when I wasn’t looking?”
“Well, I mean… not officially,” one of the soldiers admitted.
Hoon stepped right up to the gate and scowled at both men through it. “Right. In that case, get your guns out of my face, put your cocks away, and open this fucking gate.” He raised his badger eyebrows. “Am I making myself clear?”
Ten minutes later, Hoon and the others stood in a lavishly grand entrance hall, flanked on all sides by armed troops. Leanne, holding the blissfully unaware Immy, stood in the middle, with Hoon, Daniel, Marshall and Moira forming a protective square around them. All four of them carried rifles, shotguns or, in Daniel’s case, an UZI submachine gun, taken from Moira’s impressive, yet at the same time deeply worrying, personal armory.
Marshall let out a low whistle as he looked around the hallway. The walls were all done in a dark, polished wood, which matched the reception desk and the two long coffee tables which were nestled between some antique-looking leather couches.
Above them hung an extravagant chandelier, all dangly crystals and swooping curves of white metal. Marshall nodded up at it. “Nice, eh?”
Hoon’s eyes flicked to the chandelier for a few fleeting seconds. “That thing? Wouldn’t give it fucking house room,” he said, turning his attention back to the soldiers.
“Nightmare to clean, too,” said Moira. “Know the girl who used to have to do it. Lovely lass. Moved to London shortly after she turned twenty. Parents both died when she was young. Cancer, the pair of them.” She shrugged. “Mind you, she’s probably dead now, too, of course.”
Daniel puffed out his cheeks. “Well that conversation took quite a depressing turn.”
A set of arched doors over by the reception desk opened and a man with grey hair at his temples and gold pips on his shoulders came strutting through like he owned the place.
“That’s Sweeney,” Marshall whispered. “He’s in charge.”
“No’ any more he’s no’,” Hoon said.
Sweeney smiled as he approached the group. “Ah, Mr… Marshall, wasn’t it?” he said.
“Detective Inspector Marshall, actually,” said Hoon. “He works for me. And you are?”
The officer’s smile didn’t falter. He held Hoon’s gaze with no sign of flinching. “Lieutenant Sweeney. Jack.” He held out a hand. Hoon took it, and both men squeezed hard as they shook.
“Detective Chief Inspector Hoon,” Hoon said, lingering on the word, “chief”.
Once they’d finished trying to out-squeeze one another, Sweeney folded his hands crisply behind his back. Hoon nodded towards the other soldiers, who all watched on silently, guns lowered but very much on show.
“What you lot doing holed up in here, then?” he asked. “Hiding, is it?”
“Regrouping,” said Sweeney. “It’s been a rough night.”
“Aye, you can say that again,” Hoon said. He looked around at the four doors all leading off in different directions from the hall. “There a bar in this place?”
Sweeney nodded. His fixed smiled broadened, just a little. “I’ve set up my office in there. Purely for observation purposes, you understand? Big windows, gives a clear view of the gardens and the driveway.” He rocked back on his heels. “The collection of fifty-year-old whiskies is really just a bonus.”
“I’ll bet,” said Hoon.
&
nbsp; “I hope you’ll all join me. It’d be useful to swap notes,” said Sweeney.
“Aye, sounds good to me,” said Marshall, rubbing his hands together.
Hoon snorted. “Nice try, Marshall. You and…”
“Daniel,” Daniel sighed.
“You two get Leanne and the wee one settled into one of the rooms.” He turned to Sweeney. “You checked them all, aye?”
“We did. Full sweep. There’s a nice suite on the first floor. Some of my men can take her up.”
“No, you’re alright, this pair will do it,” Hoon said. He fixed his gaze on Marshall and Daniel in turn. “Get her settled in. Keep an eye. I’m putting you two in charge of making sure they stay safe. Do not fuck this up.”
“It’s fine,” said Leanne. “We’re OK. You don’t have to worry about us.”
“I know I don’t,” said Hoon, leaning in and whispering conspiratorially. “But I’ve got to give them something to do or there’s no saying what they’ll get up to. Keep them out of my hair, eh?”
Leanne half-grinned. “Ten four, boss.”
“You coming with me?” Hoon asked his sister. Moira shook her head.
“Thought I’d go take a look around. Lived four miles up the road for years and could never be arsed popping in. May as well explore a little now.”
Hoon nodded. “Aye. Well try and no’ hurt anyone, eh?”
“Bob,” Moira said, sounding offended. “You know me.”
“Aye,” Hoon said. “That’s why I said it. Now,” he continued, turning back to Sweeney. “Lead the way. That whisky collection’s no’ going to observe itself.”
FRANKLIN, MASSACHUSETTS
May 25th, 1:45 AM
Col and the others looked up, as one, at the ceiling. There was no sign of movement up there, but there was no mistaking now that the scraping and scratching sound was coming from just on the other side, growing faster and more frantic by the second.
“What is that?” Jaden whispered. “What’s up there?”
Col began backing away towards the stairs. “Don’t know, but let’s not hang around to find out.”
“Yeah,” Jaden agreed, following. “Yeah, let’s go.”
Amy and Col hurried down the stairs, taking them in leaps of two and three. Jaden turned at the top and beckoned back to his mom, who was still standing in the same spot, her neck cranked all the way back as she gazed at the ceiling. Her eyelids fluttered as a dusting of white paint flakes cascaded across her face.
“Mom,” Jaden said. “Come on. Mom!”
Amanda frowned and dragged her eyes down from the ceiling. She looked at her son. She smiled, but quizzically, like she’d been asked a question in a language she didn’t understand. And then, with a crack, something black and shiny exploded through the ceiling in a swirling cloud of white dust.
Amanda screamed, as the cat-sized thing dropped onto her from above, but the sound died in her throat almost at once. The black shape thrashed, lashing out with spindly legs that were each half a meter long. A spray of blood arced up the wall and Amanda folded downwards onto the carpet, her breath gargling and bubbling at the back of her throat.
“M-mom?” Jaden whispered.
Amanda’s body heaved and convulsed as the shiny black creature tore at her. Her arm reached out towards Jaden. A finger extended, pointing down the stairs behind him.
“G-g,” she gulped.
A hand caught Jaden by the sleeve. Amy was suddenly there, two steps down, pulling him away. “Come on,” she hissed. “Please. Come on. There’s nothing you can do. We have to go.”
Jaden shook his head, but his mom’s hand lay limp on the floor now. Her eyes no longer looked at him, but beyond him. Through him. Jaden felt his fists clenching and rage boiling up inside him like bile.
The thing from the ceiling was a bug. Or something like a bug, at least. The slick, armored body was the size of a small dog, with a frenzy of legs that tapered to thin, knife-like blades at the ends. There was a head. Eyes. Mandibles that snap-snap-snapped at his mom’s dead flesh.
“Oh, Jesus.” Col appeared beside Amy and recoiled at the scene playing out on the landing. “Jaden, we have to go. We have to go,” he whispered.
He and Amy both pulled Jaden down the stairs, just as the bug-thing noticed them. There was a scurrying on the landing behind them. They leaped down the last of the steps and into the downstairs hall just as the insect hurled itself after them.
Amy shoved Jaden towards the front door and wasted half a second tipping over the telephone table, trying to slow the thing down. The bug scurried sideways up the wall, its bladed feet chipping holes in the plaster.
“Amy, move!” Col cried from outside. Amy glanced back over her shoulder in time to see the creature duck low on its long legs, getting ready to spring.
She stumbled outside. Col pulled the door closed. There was a thud and a screech of frustration from the other side. A shiny black blade stabbed through the wood, splintering it. Another of the thing’s feet broke through. It drew back, hacking and slicing at the door. Again. Again. Again.
Amy and Col darted along the path. Jaden hung back, his eyes fixed on the top half of the house, where his mom lay dead – or worse, not yet dead.
But no. She was gone. She had to be. The blood. So much blood.
“Jaden, come on!” Col cried. Jaden whispered a goodbye, just as the bug smashed a tennis ball-sized hole in the door. Jaden caught a glimpse of its twitching head and dribbling mandibles, but then he was off and running, racing after Col and Amy as they hurried out onto the street.
A howl of rage from along the sidewalk on their left made them jump. Their heads whipped round. A crowd was there – dozens, hundreds, maybe. They were hunched over, their clawed fingers making grabs at nothing but air. A few of them broke ranks and began to run – sprint – towards Jaden, Col and Amy. The others, realizing what was happening, broke into charges of their own, and a chorus of screams and squeals and furious howls split the night.
“Fuck,” Amy spat, turning right. “Run!”
This time, Jaden didn’t need telling twice. He and Col kicked into high gear, racing after Amy. Col quickly began to pull ahead, but hesitated as he passed the others.
“Go! Just keep going!” Jaden wheezed. “Don’t stop.”
Col slowed down for Jaden to catch up. “I’m not going to leave you to--”
“Just fucking go, Col!” Jaden shouted. He shoved his friend hard, sending him stumbling a few paces ahead again. “OK? Don’t wait, just fucking go! Now!”
The crowd swarmed towards them, moving like a single organism now, closing the gap a little more with each frenzied bound.
“Stop arguing and just fucking run!” Amy screamed at them. There was a corner dead ahead, where the road turned onto a wider street. Amy wasn’t overly familiar with this part of town, but she thought there were some shops down that way. Maybe, if they were lucky, somewhere to hide.
They clattered around the bend in the road, Col in front, Amy and Jaden doing their best to keep up. The infected horde was snapping at Jaden’s heels, just a dozen meters away now, maybe less.
Col hissed as a powerful beam of light hit his face, dazzling him. He threw up his arms and squinted, and was only just able to make out the silhouette of a man with a rifle dead ahead.
“Hurry! Get in the car,” a voice barked.
“Mike?” Col gasped, then Amy and Jaden hit him from behind, forcing him onwards.
They powered towards what Col now realized was a car with its headlights on, breath wheezing, lungs burning in their chests. Mike jumped into the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed. Leaning over, he threw the passenger door open and Col dived in. Amy tore open the back door and dived in next, with Jaden falling in on top of her in a tangle of panicky limbs.
Mike slammed the car into reverse before they could even close the door. A wall of twisted, furious faces was lit up by the car’s headlights as the crowd kept coming. Amy dragged Jaden all the way in
to the car, and the door slammed closed as Mike pulled a sharp, sudden turn that spun the car around a hundred and eighty degrees.
From behind them came a loud crack. They all spun in their seats to see the bug-creature clinging to the rear windshield. Across its shiny abdomen was a wide, horizontal slit, which looked unsettlingly like some sort of mouth.
SCREECH!
Metal tore above them. A thin blade pierced the roof of the car. Mike floored the gas and the car lurched forwards, but the bug-thing hung on.
Jaden leaned forward into the front and made a grab at Mike’s waist. His fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun the marine had confiscated from him.
Turning, Jaden took aim at the wriggling insect on the other side of the glass. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you?” he hissed. “Windshield’s a bug’s natural enemy. Bitch.”
He squeezed the trigger. The inside of the car was filled with the deafening roar of gunfire and the splintering of glass. The insect creature squealed and thrashed. Jaden fired again. Again. Over and over. The bug’s body twisted all the way around, before it finally lost its grip.
It hit the road in a flailing mess of limps and stump, then skidded to a stop against the kerb. Jaden spat out through the broken glass. “That’s for my mom, you six-legged fuck.”
“Make that ‘five-legged fuck’,” said Amy, pointing up at the machete-like foot that was sticking through the roof of the car.
“Shit, yeah,” said Jaden. He stared at the foot for a few lingering moments, watching a single drip of blood form on its pointed tip. The drop hung from the end, swaying slightly as the car sped along the road.
At last, it fell. Jaden watched it until it splashed onto the seat beside him and soaked a tiny irregular circle into the grey fabric.
And then, with the sounds of the howling and roaring growing quieter in the distance, he buried his face in his arms and cried like he had never cried before.
INVERLOCHY CASTLE HOTEL, FORT WILLIAM, SCOTLAND
May 25th, 12:06 PM
The Bug: Complete Season One Page 19