Mandibles (13 page)

*-CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR-*
April Malloe sat petrified in the center of her waterbed as more and more ants poured in through her doorway. They were crawling up the walls and on the ceiling, and though her hands were covered with a thick layer of ant guts she knew there were only so many more she could kill before they finally got her.
If only her older brother hadn't walked in on her and Norman last week, she wouldn't be dying a virgin.
* * * *

Franklin Haight knew that both of his legs had been broken when the bookshelf came down on them. Even if he could get his legs out from under the shelf, there was no way he could get away from the ants before they killed him like they had his roommate. As they swarmed him, he softly sang his favorite Beatles' tune, "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band," at least until the ants found their way into his mouth.

* * * *

The employees at Andrew's Steak House were miserably cold in the walk-in freezer, but they were playing Truth or Dare to distract themselves from the horror outside. The last thing Sonya Robinson wanted to do in this cold was take off her shirt, but she
had
chosen "dare" knowing what kind of filth her co-workers always had on their minds, so it was nobody's fault but her own.

* * * *

Eugene Pendelton had moved to Tampa exactly eight hours and fifty-six minutes ago, and couldn't help but think that it had been a poorly timed move. But at least he didn't have to sit through any more earthquakes.

* * * *

He'd left her. She couldn't believe he'd left her.

Mike had screamed for her to get back on the bicycle, but it wasn't her fault she hadn't been able to hold on. And he hadn't given her more than a few seconds to get up before he rode off without her.
As the ants covered her, she derived no small amount of pleasure from the sight of Mike falling off his bike before he even reached the end of the block, and screaming as the ants got him.
* * * *

Cheryl Stokes threw the chair through the window of the bakery and ducked inside.

Screw the diet.

*-CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE-*
"Have you ever shot one of those things before?" asked Jack as Moni returned moments later with the loaded crossbow.
"Never."
"So what makes you think you aren't going to hit him in the face?"
"Nothing."
"Uh, okay."
"Do you want to do it?" Moni asked.
"No, no, I'd hit him for sure."
The ant was still crawling on Mr. Kamerman's face. Winnie was completely pale, sweating profusely, and hadn't moved a muscle. Keeping her distance, about ten feet away, Moni walked around so that she could get a better angle, then lifted the crossbow and took careful aim.
Her hands were wobbling, so she tensed the muscles as much as she could. Even then, they continued to wobble a bit, but she'd just have to do the best she could.
Mr. Kamerman didn't even turn his head, although she could see his eyes darting in her direction.
She thought the ant had turned its own head toward her, but she couldn't be sure. She wondered if it knew what she was trying to do.
If it did, Mr. Kamerman would probably be dead already.
She closed one eye and lined the tip of the arrow up to the ant's abdomen. This would be just like shooting mice with a BB gun back on her cousin's farm, except that she hadn't visited her cousin in about fifteen years, and she hadn't actually shot any mice herself, and she'd run inside crying after her cousin fired the first BB.
She wished that the fire alarm would shut off. The noise was making it difficult to concentrate.
Jack watched, mouth open, one of his eyebrows twitching.
She pulled the trigger.
The arrow struck the ant in the thorax and slammed into the wall, taking the ant with it.
Jack began to applaud wildly, as Mr. Kamerman released all of his pent-up tension in the form of a girlish shriek.
"I can't _believe_ you hit that thing!" Jack shouted. "You could never make that shot again in a million years! I thought he was gonna end up looking like something out of an old Steve Martin act!"
Moni let the crossbow drop to the floor, ran for the nearest cubicle, and promptly threw up in the recycling bin.
* * * *

Moni tugged on the extension cord around her waist. It
seemed
secure enough, and the rest of the rope
seemed
like it would hold together, but extension cords didn't tie together very well, and they'd done it in a hurry. The other end of the cord was tied to a large desk, which
seemed
like it would support her weight if it came down to that. She had to admit, she much preferred the exact science of corporate accounting.

She thought she could smell smoke, but wasn't sure if it was just her imagination.
Mr. Kamerman still wasn't willing to try to escape with them, but he was willing to help out with their attempt. Shooting a giant ant off somebody's face with a crossbow was apparently a good way to secure manual labor.
For a moment she considered that trying to climb out of the building might perhaps be the stupidest idea she'd conceived in her entire life. It was a definite possibility, but taking the risk was better than dooming themselves inside Lavin, Inc. And she was getting back to Phil, no matter what.
"Are you guys ready?" she asked.
"We're not the ones about to scale out of a fourth-floor window, so yeah, we're set," said Jack. He looked at her with genuine concern. "You be careful."
"I will be."
"I mean it. Because if you fall to your death, I'm stuck here to die with Mr. Kamerman."
"A truly horrible fate," said Mr. Kamerman, winking at Moni.
"Well, let's do this," said Moni, sitting on the edge of the window and letting her legs dangle over the side.
"Don't look down," Jack warned. While he didn't elaborate on the thought, Moni had a pretty good idea of what he was thinking: _Because you know who's down there, probably half-eaten by ants already_.
The wall seemed free of ants, so she gave the cord one last tug to make sure it wouldn't break in half, then twisted herself around to face the building. "Remember, lower me quickly," she said.
Jack and Mr. Kamerman nodded, and then began to spool out the cord. She lost her footing immediately, but regained it and managed to keep her balance as she moved down toward the third floor. Still no ants on the wall. Things were looking good.
She looked in the third floor window as she passed. No smoke, no ants. She'd never spent much time on the second or third floors, but they all had that stupid electronic card reader system. Her card wouldn't work on those floors even if the system were functional.
Moni wasn't the litigious type, but if she were, she'd probably have a good case. If people could sue because they started a fire by leaving a Pop-Tart in their toaster for too long, she could darn well sue Lavin Inc. for making her dangle outside of their building from a bunch of tied-together extension cords.
She continued to scale down the wall. Jack and Mr. Kamerman both looked terribly concerned, so she gave them a thumbs-up sign.
Right before she reached the top of the second floor window, she noticed that the cord tied to the one around her waist, which was just out of her reach, was starting to come undone.
"Stop!" she cried out. "Stop lowering me!"
They did so. She reached up as high as she could, but the cord was still at least two inches from the tips of her fingers.
It was definitely too far to fall without breaking important bones necessary for fleeing from ants. And by the time they pulled her all the way back up, it might be too late.
Even if the knot didn't untie itself, Moni's heart was pounding so rapidly that she was _sure_ the shockwaves would snap the extension cord.
"What's wrong?" Jack asked.
"The cord is coming apart!"
She cursed. Every rope in every movie she'd ever seen had done something like this when the hero was hanging from it, so why should real life be any different?
She took a deep breath, then took the cord with both hands and began to pull herself up. Her muscles felt like they were going to rip right off of her bones from the effort. She either needed to build some upper body strength or lose some weight.
The cord was coming undone quickly. In about two seconds she was going to be on her way down.
Two seconds passed.
The knot came completely undone.
Moni's hand shot out and grabbed the other cord while the one tied around her waist dropped and dangled uselessly. She hung there by one hand for a moment, feeling her grip already start to weaken, then got a hold of the cord with her other hand. She twisted the end of the cord around her right hand to keep from slipping any further.
"Hold on!" shouted Jack.
She wanted to shout back a sarcastic reply, but her lungs burned and she needed every bit of energy to keep from falling and becoming ant chow. The fingers on her right hand were already turning red, and the pressure was extremely painful.
"Lower me!" she called up to Jack and Mr. Kamerman.
They began to lower her, but her hands were soaked with perspiration and even with the cord twisted around her hand she wasn't going to be able to hold on much longer. She slammed her foot against the top of the second floor window, gasping for breath and gritting her teeth against the pain in her right hand.
She kicked again, in the center of the window this time. The glass held.
The pressure on her hand was becoming unbearable.
A third kick produced a spider web pattern in the center of the glass.
She heard a hideous _crack_ as the fingers in her right hand were crushed together by the cord. Her index finger, now a dark purple color, protruded grotesquely between her ring finger and middle finger.
But she didn't let go. She kicked again, and the window finally shattered. Two more kicks cleared out most of the glass. She braced her feet against the bottom of the frame, then reached through the window with her good hand and tightly gripped the inside wall.
Moni took a moment to catch her breath, and then pulled herself inside. Her ears were ringing and the pain in her broken hand was absolutely brutal. She jumped to the floor and collapsed into a chair.
"Moni!" shouted Jack from outside. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, just dandy," she mumbled to herself.
She forced herself to get up out of the chair, leaned out the window, and peered up at Jack and Mr. Kamerman, who were reeling in the extension cord.
"You're next," she called up to Jack.

*-CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX-*
Dustin passed the Westshore Mall, then stopped the motorcycle at the ramp to Veteran's Expressway and took the instructions the convenience store cashier had given him out of his breast pocket. Thank God he hadn't lost them in all the chaos, or he'd never find the place.
Yep, he was headed the right direction. Traffic wasn't nearly as bad this far down Kennedy, since the ants were concentrated by Dale Mabry, so if he didn't run into any major infestations along the way, he'd make good time.
A plane was flying overhead. Not a pest-spraying one. Dustin wondered when they'd start spraying the area, and if traditional sprays would even have any effect on ants this size. Maybe they'd just drop a bomb on the whole city and cut their losses.
He frowned. That wasn't such an outrageous notion. Fire ants had spread over most of the southern United States from an infestation that started in one city. They weren't exactly talking world domination here, but if these ants continued to expand their territory and made themselves into permanent guests, this country had some big-time problems to worry about. Everybody would have to pack up and move north where it was too cold for the ants to survive.
He resumed driving the motorcycle, picking up his speed.
* * * *

"Hello," said Dr. Ruiz.

This was the fourth time he'd said "hello" in the past couple of minutes, as well as various other things that were completely incoherent. He was obviously delirious, and Roberta was terrified that he wasn't going to make it much longer. Zachary was doing his best to keep track of the motorcycle driver, but even though the traffic was better here, the jeep still had to weave around cars, while the motorcycle had a more or less straight shot at its destination.
Maybe Hack had been right, though. Maybe keeping Dr. Ruiz awake wasn't doing any good, and she should just let him sleep it off.
No, this wasn't a hangover; it was a poisonous ant sting. She needed to keep him conscious and as lucid as possible or risk losing him altogether.
They drove on the ramp to Veteran's Expressway. The motorcycle was out of sight, but Zachary drove as fast as he possibly could without getting them in an accident.
She continued to talk to Dr. Ruiz about his family. She couldn't even tell if Dr. Ruiz had any idea what she was saying, but she wasn't going to give up. She thought she saw Hack roll his eyes at Dave, but resisted the temptation to punch the son of a bitch in the face.
She really didn't like either of these guys. It wasn't just their sleazy appearance; it was something in their attitude. They seemed like the kind of guys who'd torture puppies and get a good laugh out of it. She hoped that she'd part ways with them as soon as possible.
* * * *

Dustin had never been on Veteran's Expressway before, so he couldn't say for sure whether the heavy traffic was unusual, but it seemed pretty much normal. No ants in sight.

He passed the Tampa International Airport exit. About a minute later, he came upon the exit for Independence Parkway; a sharp left turn underneath a bridge.
As he made the turn, he noticed several smears on the highway. It was likely that they'd previously been oversized ants. A couple of minutes later, he turned left onto Trexler Road.
The ants grew more numerous as he drove down the road. An ant-covered body lay on the sidewalk, curled in the fetal position.
After about three blocks, he brought the motorcycle to a screeching halt. He squinted to see if he was really seeing what he thought he was.
"What on earth...?" he whispered.
* * * *

"You may not want to keep touching him like that," Hack told Roberta as she continued to rub the back of Dr. Ruiz's neck.

"What do you mean?"
"I mean, the ant venom might be contagious. You wouldn't want to poison yourself just because you're trying to make him feel a little better."
"Are you kidding me?" she asked.
"Hey, I'm just giving you a friendly little warning. Man, there are a lot of uptight people in this jeep."
"Do you wanna get out and walk?" asked Zachary.
"No, not particularly."
"Well, you're gettin' pretty close." Zachary sighed. "Anyway, I think we lost him. I don't see that motorcycle anywhere."
"Smooth move," said Hack.
"Hey, he's on a motorcycle, he's got a little more maneuverability in heavy traffic than I do!"
"Yeah, yeah, excuses, excuses."
Dave slapped Hack on the side of the head. "I'm pretty sure he said he was going to Trexler Road. Let's head that way."
"Maybe you should encourage your buddy to show a little respect," said Zachary.
"I will," he said, smacking Hack once again.
* * * *