Mandibles (14 page)

Dustin parked the motorcycle and walked toward the warehouse, a concrete structure that was the size of a large house. It had a sliding metal door that was most of the way up, revealing what was inside.

An anthill.
An _enormous_ anthill.
An anthill that almost filled the entire warehouse. It had to be at least fifteen feet tall and thirty feet wide.
It was made of dirt, but the dirt was too smooth. The anthill was too symmetrical. This wasn't something the ants had built. This thing was man-made.
* * * *

Hack touched the gauze on his arm. "I think I need a change," he said.

Roberta thrust the first aid kit toward him. "Help yourself."
"This gauze isn't working very well. Don't you have anything better?"
"No."
"Sure you do. C'mon, hand over your shirt."
"Go to hell."
Hack grinned broadly, and then smacked her across the face. Hard. Roberta's head flew back and tears blurred her vision from the sting.
Zachary slammed on the brakes. "That's it! You are _out_ of here, you piece of -- "
Suddenly Roberta felt the warm metal of a gun against her side. "Maybe not," said Hack. "I'll make you a sweet deal. You get out of the jeep, and she gets to keep her kidneys. Sound fair?"
"I'll kill you," said Zachary, his eyes flaring with fury. "I swear, I'll kill you."
"Sucks to be me then, doesn't it? You have five seconds to get out of the jeep. Then you have ten seconds to come around and get your drunken friend out of here, too. Understand?"
Roberta glanced to the side. There weren't as many ants outside as there were in the parking lot at work, but there were still more than enough to make it extremely dangerous to be running around out there.
Dave rubbed his forehead in frustration, looking as though he wanted to give Hack another smack in the head, but then looked up at Zachary. "He asked you if you understood."
"I swear -- "
"Stop swearing. Just get out. The dumb-ass _will_ shoot her."
Zachary opened the door and started to ease his way out.
"Do it quick," said Hack. "And don't forget your friend."
Zachary got out of the car and then hurried around the front, while Dave climbed through to the front seat. "It'll be okay," Hack assured Roberta. "Just think of this as a surprise party. We're going to have ourselves more fun than you can imagine."
"Please," she said, "leave Dr. Ruiz where he is."
"Nah."
Zachary opened the door. "Yeah, yeah, I know," said Hack. "You swear you're going to kill me. It's old news."
"Zachary, take care of him," Roberta pleaded.
"I will, I promise," said Zachary, putting his arms under Dr. Ruiz's shoulders and pulling the dentist out of the jeep. He scooped him up into his arms like a bride being carried across the threshold, and backed off as he started kicking away the ants that were coming toward his feet.
Dave leaned over and shut the door, and then they drove off, leaving Zachary running for cover.
"Don't feel bad for them," said Hack with a chuckle. "They're only going to get killed by ants. Your death isn't going to be quite as gentle."

*-CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN-*
Moni couldn't believe what she was seeing.
A glass door.
There were no glass doors on the first or fourth floors, so she'd assumed that the same was true on the second. But here it was.
This was perfect. Now Jack wouldn't have to scale all the way down to the ground. He could come in this way, and they'd be able to better plan out their escape. Of course, the plan at this point was basically "run like hell," but a little bit of extra strategy couldn't hurt.
* * * *

Jack tugged on the cord for the sixth time. He had triple knotted the cord tied to the one around his waist, and it was
not
going to come apart while he was dangling outside the building.

He'd wanted to take the crossbow along. If Moni and Abigail could shoot it, so could he. But he also wanted to have both hands free in case of trouble involving, oh, say, the cords coming apart at an inopportune time, so he settled for Winnie covering him.
"Ready?" asked Winnie, pulling the arrow back until it caught.
"Yeah," said Jack. "Here's the deal, though. If one of those things comes anywhere near my face, I do _not_ want you to attempt to shoot it off. We've already more than used up our luck in that department. Okay?"
"You're the boss," Winnie said.
Moments later, Jack found himself scaling down the wall. It was approximately one hundred and fifty times scarier than he'd anticipated, but Moni had survived the ordeal, and so would he.
He glanced down at Moni as she watched him. "Stop looking at my butt," he said.
"I can't help myself."
"I mean it. This is a highly stressful situation and I don't need you compounding it with your sexual harassment. Is my butt as nice as your husband's?"
"Not even close."
"I bet Phil has never climbed down a wall like this, though," Jack said, as he scaled down past the third floor window.
"I believe you're right."
"See? So he's not all the man you claim he is." His stomach suddenly took a plunge as he saw one of the rat-sized ants crawl over the top of the building and head towards him. "Mr. Kamerman! Ant at twelve o'clock!"
Winnie leaned out the window and looked up. "I have to brace the cord with something!"
"Well do it quick!"
Winnie vanished for about ten seconds, as the ant continued to crawl toward Jack, but then reappeared with the crossbow. He took aim quickly and fired.
The arrow missed the ant and struck the drainpipe.
Then the arrow fell back towards Jack.
"Crap!" he shouted.
Winnie made a grab for it but missed. A second later the arrow sailed past Jack's ear.
Jack glared at him. "Put. The. Crossbow. Away."
"Sorry," said Winnie.
The ant crawled around the edge of the window, and then continued scurrying towards Jack. One more appeared over the top of the roof, followed by another two.
"Lower me! Lower me!" Jack shouted. "But watch yourself!"
Winnie ducked back inside the window. The second ant ran into the open window and disappeared from sight.
Jack kicked at the ant that was coming after him. It crawled onto his foot and began to make its way up his leg while he vigorously tried to shake it off.
Then the extension cord went completely slack, and he plummeted toward the ground.
* * * *

Mr. Kamerman smashed into a cubicle wall as the ant stung his face over and over. It was even worse than when his wife had mistaken him for a burglar and blasted him with pepper spray.

This pain was not nearly as long lasting, however. He was dead before the other two ants even sunk their mandibles into his flesh.
* * * *

Jack stopped with a jolt, a few feet above Moni's head, feeling like he'd been punched in the stomach. The ant fell to the ground.

"Mr. Kamerman!" he shouted. "Hey, Mr. Kamerman, are you all right up there?"
There was no answer. What was he supposed to do now?
He looked down at Moni. "Is there a table down there, or anything you can stick out the window as a platform? I may be able to untie myself and land on it."
"I don't know, but I'll find something." She disappeared from sight.
Jack dropped down just a bit. The corner of the desk they'd tied the extension cord to protruded over the edge of the window.
This was somewhat worse than an arrow coming down at him.
"Moni! We've got a time element here!"
He should've had enough line to get to the ground before the desk made its appearance. The extension cords must've gotten tangled in the desk's legs, or tangled with each other. It was probably like the way Christmas lights could tie themselves into Gordian Knots simply by being stored in an attic.
Jack dropped some more, so that his toes were just above the second floor window, and the legs of the desk appeared over the side of the window.
This was it. This was how Jack Lacefield was going to meet his demise. And he'd always thought his death would come from a bar room brawl.
"Moni! Now!"
The desk made a cringe-inducing screech as it slid over the window frame. The back legs caught on the edge, and for an instant Jack thought it was going to stay in place, but then it continued to slide.
Suddenly Moni was at the window. Using one hand, she hoisted a small circular table with the legs folded down and balanced it on the edge of the window, bracing herself against the other side to keep it sturdy. Jack quickly began to untie the cord around his waist. But as he struggled with it, he realized that he'd tied the knot way too tight and wouldn't be getting this thing off his waist anytime soon.
Then the back legs of the desk slid all the way off the frame and it dropped over the edge.
Jack landed on the table, which began to tilt dangerously toward the ground as Moni struggled to keep it straight.
But even if the desk missed him, the jolt on the extension cord around his waist when it reached the end of the line would probably snap him in two.
So he jumped.
* * * *

Moni gasped and let go of the table as Jack deliberately jumped backwards off of it.

Suddenly the desk smashed into the circular table. The end closest to Moni shot up, striking her good hand with such force that for an instant she thought it had come right off.
* * * *

As Jack struck the ground, he heard a
pop
that immediately let him know that he wouldn't be doing any running in the near future. His knee crumpled beneath him and he dropped onto his side, landing close to Abigail's body.

The desk struck the ground next to him, flipped as it bounced back into the air, then came down right-side-up directly over him, two of its legs landing on each side of his head.
He couldn't believe it. He was still alive. In pretty bad shape, yeah, but still alive.
Then the ants swarmed him.
* * * *

Moni stumbled backwards, her left hand now hurting even worse than her right, which was already purple and swollen. It was still attached, but she knew for a fact that her left hand had been broken. Possibly shattered. And she'd be lucky if her wrist wasn't broken as well.

This would have been a wonderful time to just lie on the floor and have herself a nice long cry.
But she had to find out what happened to Jack. She hurried over to the window, wondering how in the world she was going to make it out of this situation alive when she had two broken hands.

*-CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT-*
Zachary was so angry that it took several moments for him to realize that he should be frightened as well. With Dr. Ruiz in his arms, he ran past the house closest to where he stood to a small one-story home with a heavily rusted brown truck in the driveway. The back of the truck was piled high with garbage bags and all sorts of other junk.
Good thing the dentist was a small guy, or he'd never be able to run like this while avoiding the ants.
He swung Dr. Ruiz's feet around, using them to brush off a few of the ants, and then opened the passenger door of the truck and set Dr. Ruiz inside. Zachary shut the door, looked through the window to ensure that no ants were in there with him, and took off toward the front porch, hoping somebody would be home to let him borrow the keys to the truck. If he made it through this alive, the first thing he was going to do was learn how to hotwire a car.
He knocked loudly and then promptly opened the front door and stepped inside the living room. A few scattered ants were crawling on the walls, but most of them were swarming the body of a woman lying spread-eagle on the floor. There was absolutely no question that she was dead.
Zachary shut the door behind him and grimaced at the sight of the ants digging deep into the woman's eye sockets.
The keys. Where did people usually keep their keys? He kept his own keys on a hook in the kitchen, so that was as good a place as any to start looking.
He entered the kitchen. There was sugar all over the floor, most of it covered with ants. A balding man in a bathrobe sat against the refrigerator, a huge gash across his forehead, his face almost completely stained with blood, and a gun in his hand.
The man opened his eyes and looked at Zachary. "They like sugar," he said, pleasantly.
"What happened to you?"
"Oh, not much," said the man, gazing thoughtfully at the gun. "They got my wife. By the time I got out of the tub and ran out there, it was already too late. She was going to get us some ice cream. Those little suckers are quick, have you noticed?"
"Yeah, I've noticed," said Zachary, pushing some of the sugar out of the way with his foot to make a path toward the man. "What happened to your forehead?"
"Oh, you know. When your wife of thirty-one years gets eaten alive by ants, suddenly life doesn't seem worth living quite as much." He held up the gun like a child showing his mother a card he'd made for her. "It wasn't like I could shoot all of them, right?"
"You're right." For some reason, this guy's calm attitude was creeping Zachary out much more than any of the screaming and panicking he'd seen so far.
"So I figured, bang, it's all over. But I wimped out. Still pulled the trigger, but I moved the gun at the last instant. Does my face look bad to you?"
Zachary shook his head. "You'll be fine."
"I don't feel like I'll be fine. What about my wife? Does she have any skin left?"
Zachary ignored the question. "I need you to do me a favor. If you tell me where the keys to your truck are, I can get you and my friend someplace safe."
"Oh, I don't need to be someplace safe. I'm just going to sit here and work up a little more courage, and then give this suicide thing another chance. They say that people who kill themselves go to hell, but I think there has to be some sort of rule about extenuating circumstances. What do you think?"
"I really don't know. But you don't need to do this. Just tell me where the keys are and I'll take you out of here."
The man seemed to consider that. "Nah. I have everything I need here. Would you like to borrow some sugar?"
"If you're not concerned about yourself, at least let me borrow your truck to save my friend. He's not doin' well, and he's got a family that depends on him. I promised I'd take him someplace safe."
The man picked up a handful of the sugar and let it trickle through his fingers. "Promises are meant to be broken."
"Not this one."
"I think I'm ready now," said the man, putting the revolver to his head. "What do you think? Against the head or in the mouth?"
"That's the coward's way out. I'm tellin' you, I can get you out of here."
"You're a good man. But, no, I think I'm going to have to stick with Plan A." He removed the gun from his head and looked it over. "The mouth. That's the best way."
He placed the gun in his mouth, looked cross-eyed at the barrel, and pulled the trigger.
Zachary turned away from the gory sight and vomited onto the sugar. He left the kitchen, coughing and gagging.
Perhaps he should just try another house.
Then he remembered what the man had said. His wife was going to get ice cream. He might have meant that she was going to get ice cream from the kitchen, but that seemed unlikely if he was in the middle of taking a bath.
The keys were probably in her purse.
But as he looked at the ant-covered corpse, he didn't see a purse. Nor was there a purse anywhere else in the living room, at least that he could see right away.
Maybe she didn't carry a purse.
Maybe the keys were in her pocket.
If so, that was it. He'd have to find a new vehicle. No way was he going to be able to get the keys out of her pocket without getting stung.
He continued to look around for a purse, peering through the dining room, until he noticed what lay beyond the sliding glass door of the dining room.
A screened-in porch with a barbecue grill.
The ants were busy with the corpse and the sugar, so there were only a few in the dining room. He opened the sliding door, stepped out into the porch, and saw what he was looking for, next to the jumbo-sized bag of charcoal: a can of lighter fluid and a box of matches.
Zachary took them, as well as a large plastic bowl from the dirty dishes on the table, and returned to the living room. He then began squirting lighter fluid on the woman. Defiling a dead body in this manner was probably going to earn him a seat in hell right next to the man in the kitchen, but at least his motives were honorable.
He lit the match and dropped it onto the woman.
The corpse burst into flames, and Zachary took no small amount of pleasure in watching the ants freak out as the fire got them. Some of them ran from the body, but their burning forms only lasted for a few seconds before the flames finished them off.
"That'll teach ya," he muttered.
As the body burned, he hurried into the bathroom and filled the plastic bowl with water from the tub. He returned to the corpse and poured the water over its waist, extinguishing the flames. The fabric of her jeans had mostly burned away, revealing the top of the key ring. He picked it up, wincing because it was still hot, and then headed back outside to the truck, taking the matches and can of lighter fluid with him.
He got in the truck. Dr. Ruiz was leaning against the passenger door, eyes half-open. "How're you feelin', buddy?" Zachary asked.
"My tooth hurts."
"Really?"
Dr. Ruiz gave him a faint smile and shook his head. "Joke."
Zachary returned the smile. "Let's just see how funny those sons of bitches think it is when I catch up to them."