Unearthed

Chapter 4

The tapping/scratching sound of insect feet on the other side of the glass was nearly enough to make Joe shriek like a little girl.

Slowly, he backed up a few steps, nearly colliding with Stacy who had come forward, her nose wrinkled in disgust as she gaped at the monster bee.

“What the fuck is that?” she asked, grabbing Joe’s upper arm, a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth.

Joe shook his head, unable to speak.

The thing was crawling around out there, tap, tap, tapping against the window, exploring, so large it blocked the outside view of the world through that particular pane.

Occasionally, it fluttered its black wings without taking off, the way insects will sometimes do.

Stacy released Joe’s arm and moved even closer to the window, her face full of repulsion, but also a kind of childlike wonder.

“Don’t!” Joe clasped her shoulder, halting her progression to the window.

“I need a cell phone!” John screamed from within the kitchen. “Where is the fucking phone?”

The man was clearly on the verge of panic, if not there already, and his voice was nearly as grating as the sound of the insect outside, but he reminded Joe of calling the sheriff, which now seemed more important than ever.

“You said your phone’s in your coat,” he said quietly to Stacy. “Go call the sheriff again, quick.”

Without looking at him, she asked, “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m getting the shotgun.”

They both sprang into action, hurrying away from the front of the diner.

For years, Joe had kept an ancient, double-barreled shotgun in the kitchen. He’d never had to use it before, but it had once belonged to his father, so he kept it clean and in good condition. It was mainly only around for show, though just the employees knew it was there.

The thought of pointing it at anything made his stomach churn, but he pulled it out from behind the dry-goods storage bins and began to rifle through the bins themselves in search of shells. Once located, he loaded up the shotgun, snapped it closed and turned to see John staring at him, wild-eyed.

“You’re gonna kill that thing?” the man asked, pointing towards the dining area. “You should go kill it before it gets inside.”

“It’s not gonna get inside, man.” Joe tried to sound calm, though he felt anything but. “This is just a precaution.”

At the far end of the kitchen, Stacy removed the phone from her ear and said, “It just keeps ringing. No one picks up.”

With his free hand, Joe rubbed the stubble on his cheek and upper lip, then paused, his hand still covering his mouth.

“What do we do now?” Stacy asked.

Before Joe could reply, John lunged at her, snatching the phone from her hand.

“Hey!” Joe protested, taking a step towards the man.

“Watch it!” Stacy snapped, swatting at John as he moved away, head bent as he dialed the phone. “You could ask, you know!”

John ignored them both, pressed send and ran a hand through his grimy hair as he listened to something on the other end of the phone. “Fuck!” he shouted after a moment. “Fucking voicemail!”

He tried dialing again, with the same result. “She should be home right now!” he yelled to no one in particular. “Where the fuck is she?”

Joe shoved his way past John to look out into the dining area again. Their visitor still remained on the window, though except for its antennas, it wasn’t moving.

Coming up beside him, Stacy repeated her question: “What are we gonna do, Joe?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’m definitely not crazy about going outside right now. What if there are more of those things?”

“So…we just bide our time?”

He shrugged. “I guess so. Unless you have a better idea.”

Stacy’s eyes remained fixed on the giant insect, both hands rubbing her gently curving belly. Joe was pretty sure she wasn’t even aware she was doing it.

“Motherfucker!” John shouted, throwing the cell phone as hard as he could against a wall. The device shattered and fell to the floor in several pieces.

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Joe nearly dropped the shotgun, but managed to place it on the counter before whirling and grabbing hold of the front of John’s shirt. “What the hell is wrong with you? That was our only phone!”

“Where is my wife?” John screamed into Joe’s face, as if he really expected Joe to know the answer.

“You’re paying for that,” Stacy said angrily as she tried to gather up the pieces of her phone. “You prick. There’s no way anyone will be able to fix this.”

Joe shoved John away and pointed a meaty finger in the other man’s face. “You need to calm yourself right now, asshole! I’ll toss you out of here in a second if you don’t chill the fuck out.”

“With that thing out there?” John cried, pointing towards the window. “You don’t even know what it is! It could kill me!”

“Yeah, it probably could,” Joe agreed. “All the more reason for you to cut the hysteria shit.”

Tossing the remnants of her broken phone aside, Stacy changed the subject. “Joe, whatever happened to that old transistor radio you used to have in here?”

Suddenly, Joe’s eyes lit up with hope, his altercation with John forgotten. He smiled and said, “I ought to kiss you.”

“You wish, old man.”

Together, they began rummaging around the kitchen, searching for the radio while John circled around to the other side of the counter and began pacing back and forth, sweat running down his temples as his hands gestured wildly, though his mutterings were inaudible.

“Got it,” Stacy announced, pulling the radio out of a lower stainless steel cupboard. She scowled as she studied it. “Jesus, when did you buy this? 1966?”

“Funny,” Joe said, taking the radio from her and twisting the power knob. Immediately, static blared from the tinny speaker and Joe hurried to turn down the volume as Stacy clasped her hands over her ears.

He looked up, his smile ever broader. “Batteries still work.”

“That’s a minor miracle,” Stacy said, though she returned his smile.

Joe put the radio on the counter, stretched its antenna and began spinning the tuning dial in search of anything other than static. It took nearly a full minute of barely moving the knob, but finally the crackle of a distant voice could be heard.

“Right there!” Stacy said.

“I know!”

They both stared at the radio, straining to hear the male voice which sounded so far away it might have been coming from another planet.

“…complete devastation…no estimations…deaths…”

John leaned over the counter. “Make it come in clearer!”

In unison, Joe and Stacy shushed him.

“…gone…”

“What’s gone?” John demanded.

Joe shot him a dirty look. “Shut the hell up.”

“…approximately 250 miles…growing…”

“250 miles?” John asked. “What the fuck are they talking about?”

Opening her mouth to yell at him, Stacy was interrupted as a deafening explosion rocked the building, shaking loose anything that wasn’t nailed down, including pans, cutlery, small appliances, condiments and half a dozen other things. All three of them instinctively ducked, covering their heads as the power went out and plunged them into dimness.

Plaster rained down on them from the ceiling and a wall clock crashed to the floor with the sound of breaking glass.

When he was certain it was safe, Joe dropped his arms and looked around, dazed.

“That was close by,” Stacy said, straightening up. “Probably a block away at most.”

“Yeah,” Joe agreed. “I’m gonna take a look out the back door.”

“NO!” Stacy shouted, stepping in front of him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“We have to know what happened. Someone could be hurt.”

“And that someone could be you if you go out there.”

“I’m just gonna have a peek. I promise.”

“But…that thing.”

“It’s gone,” John said, gaping towards the front of the diner.

Joe and Stacy both looked and saw that he was correct. The bee — or whatever it was — was no longer on the window.

“Huh,” Joe said. “The explosion must have scared it off.”

Stacy cocked her head, listening. “We should hear sirens pretty soon. The fire department is only a couple miles away.”

“I’m not waiting for the fire department,” Joe said, seizing his shotgun. When Stacy tried to block his way again, he said, “If I see anything that ain’t…right…I’ll blast it. Okay?”

“No,” she snapped. “It’s not okay. Something happens to you and I’m in here alone with…” She waved at John with disgust.

“Just a peek,” he repeated firmly, pushing past her.

Throwing her hands into the air with exasperation, Stacy cursed and began searching the floor for her cigarettes. When she couldn’t find them, she quickly spun around and called after Joe. “Fuck it. I want a peek too.”

He knew better than to argue with her anymore. Instead, he said, “Just stay behind me.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” she said, one hand against her tummy. “Junior here is gonna be pressed right up against your ass.”

Joe was amazed at her ability to retain some of her humor in this fucked-up situation and he had to admire her for it. God knew he wasn’t in the mood for jokes. In fact, if he was being honest with himself, he knew he was damn close to pissing his pants.

They went through the doorway and into the storage room where the back door was located. Moving into deeper gloom, he wished he’d grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen, but knew as soon as they reached the door to the outside they’d have all the light they needed.

Luckily, they’d both spent enough time back here that they could have maneuvered blindfolded and neither of them bumped into anything.

Once they reached the door, Joe gripped the knob with his free hand and glanced over his shoulder at Stacy.

“Ready?”

Her shadow nodded, barely visible, and Joe blinked sweat out of his eyes. Fuck! Why was he so scared?

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he turned the knob and slowly opened the door a crack. Sunlight streamed into the room, temporarily blinding him.

Joe squinted, peeking through the opening. In the distance, the blue sky was smeared with black and the smoke cloud was rolling towards the Pinecone Cafe.

“See anything?” Stacy asked.

“The explosion wasn’t as close as we thought. Maybe half a mile. I’d say it might have been the 7-11 up the road. Close to it, anyway.” He paused, studying the smoke. “But judging the way that wind is blowing, that smoke is gonna be over us in about ten minutes.”

“What about the monster bug? Is that out there?”

Joe shook his head. “Not that I can see.” He opened the door farther and braved poking his head outside, looking around. To his left, the normally busy road was completely deserted. The right was somewhat obscured due to the Dumpster he kept back there, but from what he could see, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Behind the diner’s paved surface was just the lip of the forest and it was too dark to see anything of interest in there.

“Seems safe enough,” he said. “I want to see if I can get a better look.”

Ignoring Stacy’s protest, he swung the door wide and prepared to venture outside, shotgun at the ready.

“Stop!” John shouted as he raced into the room, causing both Joe and Stacy to jump and whirl around.

John held the transistor radio in his hand. It only took Joe a moment to realize the man was crying.

“I heard them,” John wept. “They said Seattle is gone. Just…gone. It sunk. The whole fucking thing.”

Joe let the door fall closed, casting them into blackness.

“But…” Stacy began. “How is that possible?”

“That’s not all I heard either,” John sniffed. “Those…bees…or whatever the fuck they are. They’re attacking people. They’re fucking killing them!”

Neither Joe nor Stacy spoke, shocked into silence, but the radio crackled in the dark and the faraway voice told them that the end had come.