Rick Carter's First Big Adventure (Pete's Barbecue Book 1) (23 page)

      Tormodis watched him carefully.  A small disaster slowly defused itself. 

       Roger, pleased with the display of testosterone, quietly and unnoticed by the others, walked over to one of the windows facing the parking lot and peeped through the closed blinds.  He was somewhat startled by what he saw there, not so much by what it was but because he hadn’t seen it in his head first.  “They’re here,” He said in an ominous but familiar tone.

      Mel turned sharply, attuned to Roger’s voice.  “Who’s here?”

      “Spiders,” Roger said, letting the blinds snap shut and looking perplexed at the group.

      Mel’s eyes widened.  “What spiders?”  He quickly joined Roger and looked out of the same window.  His reaction was very unpleasant. “Pete!!!!”

      Pete didn’t budge from his position between the two warring parties.

     “They’re here!”  Mel said.

     “Who now?”  Pete seemed annoyed.

     “Our eight-legged friends,”  Mel shouted back.

     Pete’s company training compelled him to reach over and grab the 12 gauge pump shotgun that lay conspicuously on top of the pile of guns on his counter top.  “What dey doing?”  He asked with great suspicion.

     Mel looked back out between the blinds.  “Looks like they’re eating your truck,” He said slowly.

      “What?!”  Pete rushed over to the window, shotgun in hand and Rick in tow.    They looked through the plastic slats of the closed blinds.   There were two very large reddish-brown spiders trying to eat the tires on Pete’s truck.  “Damn it!”  Pete yelled and turned quickly.  “Dey here!”  He said disgustedly.

     “Hello.”  Roger twisted his hands in the air. “I said that already.”

      Mel looked at Roger accusingly.  “I thought you said a day or two?”  He told his twin brother.  “Did you see this coming?  I bet you did.  You’ve got to get better at communication, Roger.”

      “Give him a break,” Rick said.  “He’s crazy.”

      “Not an excuse.”  Mel countered.

       Roger shrugged his shoulders.  “I told you guys.  Didn’t I?  I thought I did.  Maybe not.”

      Tormodis was confused by all the sudden theatrics and didn’t know if he should still be defensive or wondering what else was going on.  Eventually, curiosity got the better of him, and he left Margaret to see for himself.  He squeezed in behind Pete, whom he could see over the top of, and watched out of the blinds as the two spiders, heedless of their audience in the diner, continued to rock Pete’s truck back and forth as they jerked and gnawed at the rubber of his tires.  Tormodis’s eyes grew wide in complete surprise.  “Holy Hannah.”  He muttered.  “How big do the spiders get here anyway?”

      “Not that big, bra.  Dim’s not from da island.”  He pumped a round into the chamber of the shotgun.  “An’ I don’t care how big dey are, nuthin’ eats my truck!”  He said firmly and proceeded towards his front door.

      “Pete, wait!”  Mel shouted in frustration at his mentor, but Pete was too emboldened to notice or just didn’t care.  He grabbed the handle of his front door and swung it open hard, determined to meet the enemy and claim some trophies.  The spiders were too far away to notice him at first, but he took a few steps closer and closed the effective range of the twelve gauge shotgun.  It was loaded with large slugs, what Pete considered to be an adequate anti-theft deterrent, but would suffice against tire munching mutant spiders from hell.  “Hey!”  He shouted at them. “Dat my truck you bastards!”  And he fired the first shot from hip level, striking the spider that was on the ground in the thorax.  The wound was fatal, sending spider innards and goo flying up like a little geyser onto the side of his truck.  The second spider turned quickly and glared at him, hunching down in an attack posture.  Pete quickly cycled another round and sent another solid piece of lead flying into the monster’s head, splitting it in two and sending it falling back against his truck bed with a loud wet thump.  Pete looked satisfied as the wisp of smoke trailed slowly up from the gun barrel.  “See, I told ya!”  He yelled at the two carcasses.

      Mel had rushed out behind his teacher with the intent of pulling him back into the diner.  But the first round went off before he could grab Pete and the second followed right after.  He could tell Pete was too distracted to notice that his two victims were not alone.  Mel could see multiple legs begin to appear out of the tall grass bordering the parking lot.  Reinforcements were on their way.

      “Mel!”  Rick shouted from just behind him, pointing out to where the next wave of spiders was starting to emerge.  More were coming from all sides.  They were surrounded.

     Mel reached out and grabbed his uncle by the shoulder and yanked hard, almost pulling him backward off his feet.  But, Pete’s low center of gravity allowed him to recover, and he snapped out of his victory daze long enough to see that the situation had not improved.  He turned and rushed back into the diner with Mel beside him.  They closed the door again in a hurried panic.  Mel looked at Pete sidelong.  “No worries, you said.  What happened to ‘da island can handle one or two spiders’ old man?”

      Pete shook his head.  “I might’ve miscounted, bra.”

       Rick was looking out of the glass of the front door, watching the spiders advance on the diner.  “You think?”  He said.  He turned and quickly grabbed an AK-47 from among the collection on the countertop and expertly chambered the first round.  “I mean, so far we haven’t done too well in the prediction department.”  He was armed just in time as the first few spiders hit the diner’s front door with a loud thud.  For a moment, it looked like it might hold but the glass soon shattered and went flying in all directions.  Mel grabbed an AR-15 and stood beside Rick as the onslaught turned into a mass of tangled legs and appendages all flailing about trying to force their way into the opening.  The spiders shrieked a high pitched loud shrill that sent shivers down everyone’s spines.  Rick and Mel started firing at the mass, the ear-piercing sound of rounds going off filling the small diner.  Tormodis pushed Margaret further back against the back door and attempted to shield her while Roger cupped his ears and tried to cower from the unbelievable sounds.  The barrage of bullets tore into the spiders and the door and the wall sending pieces of each flying out like little projectiles of their own.  But, the more they shot, the more the spiders shrieked and shrilled.  There must have been a dozen pilled against the door.  The only thing preventing them from crashing through the broken glass door was the fact that they had so entangled themselves they couldn’t get in.  Pete grabbed his old rotary dial phone on his counter top and started dialing.  Mel noticed him from the corner of his eye.

      “What in the world are you doin’?”  He asked surprised.  He was barely audible over the sound of the arachnids thrashing and tearing at the door and wall.

        Pete looked up.  “I got to get Dennis.  He got to get de Pot ready.”

         “Can you port us out of here?”  Mel quickly asked.

        “Not, without Dennis on da helm.”  Pete replied, and he continued dialing.

          Mel ejected his spent magazine and reached for another, slamming it home and pulling the slide back on the AR-15.  “I told you to get a cell-phone!”  He shouted at Pete, but the old Chamorro ignored him.  He glanced down at his REAL-Pro 9000 to see if a port was available nearby to get them out but the green light was dark, indicating that nothing was close enough to help them without direct Company assistance.  He returned to firing the weapon in his hands, this time in short bursts, trying to hold off the attackers. 

       Rick soon exhausted his magazine.  The rounds went quickly in the heat of the moment, and he knew he was going to have to get more than one magazine to keep up the rate of fire beside Mel.  He looked over at the countertop, but the weapons and magazines were all jumbled about now.  He quickly moved several aside looking for more AK-47 magazines when he noticed bits of falling ceiling tile landing on his hand.  He looked slowly up to see a flurry of activity in the ceiling above.  The tiles were being ripped apart as the giant insects tore their way through the light material of the roof and the overhead drop ceiling.  He reached out and tapped Mel’s shoulder causing his friend to jerk from the reaction.  The firing suddenly stopped as Rick pointed overhead.  Mel looked up long enough to understand the gravity of the situation before he grabbed an M1 Carbine and tossed it to Tormodis who was still by the back door. 

      “Put some fire on the ceiling!”  He barked at him.   Tormodis looked stunned at the weapon in his hand.   Defending himself against a horde of long –legged, red, hairy spiders had not been on the menu for the night.  “All we wanted was some barbecue.”  He said to himself as he put a round in the chamber and aimed upward.  He began shooting one round at a time at the several legs poking through the ceiling.   Mel and Rick returned to the front door which was starting to buckle under the sheer weight of the mass.  The two windows near the door were blackened from spider bodies scrambling over each other against the outside wall, but the panes had not shattered yet.  They were all trying to push through the front door instead of making new holes for themselves.  Pete held the receiver tightly to his ear and cupped his hand over the other one. 

     “Old man, we need to be moving out of here soon!”  Mel shouted over to him.

     “Where are we gonna go?”  Rick asked.

     “To the Pot!  But, I got to get Tormodis to find the Tracker!  We need to find where this started and put an end to it!”  He fired two more bursts and a long leg was torn off and fell twitching on the floor. 

        The front doorway finally gave in and pieces of material shattered with a loud crack and thud as the mass of spiders fell inward.  But they were still too tangled to attack or to get at the occupants inside.  Mel and Rick fell back, almost pushed by the sudden force of the doorway collapsing.  Pete was not as fortunate.  Part of the wall near the counter fell in and onto the counter with the weight of the spiders bearing down on it.   It pushed the counter over along with the cash register and the pile of guns in a massive barrage of sound and dust and debris.  Part of the wall and part of the counter fell on the old Chamorro and pinning him to the floor, the phone receiver still in his hand.   Before Mel and Rick could rush to his aid, a lone figure, which had remained unobserved and unaccounted for, emerged from the kitchen.  It was the small but stout figure of Maria Reyes.  There was no expression on her face, no sign of fear or confusion.  She quickly bent down, oblivious to the spiders trying to grapple with her, and grabbed onto the section of wall and door lying on her husband and with a strange and unexplained strength she lifted up the mass, spiders and all, allowing Pete to push himself out from underneath the debris.  He dropped the phone as he scrambled free and grabbed whatever gun was nearby.  Most of the weapons had scattered across the diner floor along with every other type of destruction cast about by the attack. 

     Maria dropped the wall as she watched her husband get up and move to the rear of the diner along with the others.  But, she showed no sign of fleeing.  Long hairy hooked legs finally reached her and grabbed at her clothing jerking her roughly back around. But, she was not without some fight of her own.  She quickly reached for the nearest legs and snapped them off with a terrific force.  Then she started flailing her limbs in a blur of an attack that focused on the nearest confused spiders.  Her small arms and fists pummeled at the beasts like a human sized weed whacker tearing off portions of anything that was in her way.  Rick looked astounded at Mel, who was too busy watching the display.  They were all crowded together now near the rear door, and the firing had stopped.  Only the rustle and shriek of the spiders could be heard now along with Maria’s strange mechanical-like attack.  For a moment it looked like the spiders might pull back, unable to figure out what this thing was that was attacking them.  Maria put her fist through one’s head and pulled the head off with a quick tug, slinging the gooey mass across the diner floor.  The group watched it plop down and slide over into the corner in amazement.  They didn’t know what to think of this bizarre display of courage mixed with suicidal determination.  Maria continued to swing; the skin on her arm shredded from her attack, revealing the shiny metal parts underneath.  The spiders tore at her in a fury as they tried to get out of her way but were bogged down in their mass and legs.   The hooks on the ends of the tentacle-like legs slashed at her clothes and face tearing at both.  Finally, they had had enough, and they grabbed at her head, several legs at once hooking into her as she reached up and tried to force them off.  But, the arachnids were too fast.  They yanked and twisted hard and pulled her head from her body as sparks shot out from her torso and wires and gears and circuits severed.  Her arms flailed momentarily before her body dropped to the floor lifeless.

      Rick and Mel looked at Pete.  Pete looked at his now deceased robot wife lying on the floor, still twitching and sparking as the spiders began to crawl over her. There were too many of them to handle now.  He quickly turned and opened the back door, providing a means for them all to flee.  The mass had disentangled itself and the ones on the roof had broken through.  The diner was overrun.  Each person jetted out of the open back door with Tormodis and Margaret being the last.  He hadn’t noticed that she had picked up one of the weapons from the floor and was carrying it cradled in her arms.  No one noticed.  As the two of them made their way out in the back yard, Margaret stopped and pulled away from her husband.  She hefted the weapon up and popped the sights of it up.  Then she calmly and deliberately aimed it into the diner, through the open back door.  One click of the trigger sent the rocket-propelled grenade at the end of the weapon flying into the diner with a quick whoosh.  The grenade struck home in the mass of spiders and immediately erupted into a fireball that blew out the rest of the front wall and part of the ceiling, incinerating the spiders inside.  The force of the explosion caught everyone by surprise and flung them off their feet in all directions.  Margaret, who was nearest the blast, remained oddly unaffected and still on her feet, her hair slightly singed and black soot on her face and clothes.