Read The Uninvited Online

Authors: William W. Johnstone

The Uninvited (22 page)

“My wife's up in Maryland, visiting her folks.”
“My wife's stayin' with her sister's kids while she's in the hospital. Female problems.”
“Want to go fishing?”
“Up in Baronne and Lapeer, maybe?”
“We'll pull out early in the morning. Won't take us two hours to get there.”
Ches grinned. “Do we tell Inspector Benning about this?”
“Hell, no! He'd probably order us take along a can of Raid.”
 
 
“Pitch black,” the lineman said to his partner. The moon had slid behind a cloud. “Stumblin' around out here in the dark lookin' for God knows what. I should have stayed in the Air Force. You ever get that feelin'?”
“All the time,” his partner replied. “I would have had almost twenty in by now. Master Sergeant, probably. Could have retired, maybe bought me a little farm. Instead, I'm out here in the middle of the night, looking up poles.”
“Goddamn!” his partner said, braking the utility truck suddenly. “Take a look at that, will you?”
The spotlights on the truck darted down the side of the Parish road. Wires lay on the ground like dark twisted spaghetti. The men got out of the truck to stare in amazement. The night winds picked up, swirling around them, bringing with the gustings a sound neither man had ever heard before. It combined in eerie harmony with the wind, a clicking, howling noise, almost wild. The men looked across the huge soybean field, at the now dark shape of the Worth mansion.
“I guess she's havin' another of her parties while the old man is out of town.”
You ever get any of that, Bill? I heard you did.”
“Once. Just once. That woman liked to have fucked my eyeballs out.”
“Good pussy, huh?”
“I never had no bad—you?”
They both laughed in the night.
The clicking sound drew closer.
How come you never went back for more if it was all that good?”
“Aw, she's all into dope and that crap. Hell, I don't belong with all those high society folks. I'm just a country boy.”
Yeah, I know the feeling.”
They knelt down beside the fallen wires.
“What the hell?” Bill said, his voice holding a puzzled tone. “This wire's been chewed through. Look!”
“Chewed through! You're kidding. Let me see that. Damn! I think you're right.”
Bill picked up another dead wire. “Squirrels?” he asked, knowing it was a foolish question to ask. Not on wires this thick.
“Sure, Bill. Sure. Giant squirrels. Look, if you see a squirrel that big, you be sure and let me know, huh? ‘Cause if you do, I'm gettin' the hell out.”
Other high voltage lines further down the road popped and crackled in the night, the juice surging through them. The men rose from their inspection.
Well,” Bill said with a sigh of resignation, his eyes on what seemed to him hundreds of feet of downed wire, “let's get to it.” He took a step and something cracked under his boot. Something that after cracking was uncomfortably squishy. “What the hell did I step on?”
“Probably a dry twig.”
“Didn't feel like a twig.”
The clicking grew louder, all around them, coming from all directions, surrounding the linemen.
“What the hell is that clicking?”
“I don't know. Come on, let's go to work.”
Bob stumbled in the darkened den, banging his shin on the edge of a coffee table. He bit back some very ugly words as his martini glass crashed on the floor. He didn't bite hard enough: the words came tumbling out.
Tanya laughed. “If it wasn't dark in here, the air would be blue. Kiri, there's a dust pan in that closet over there. I'll get a rag from the kitchen.”
Tanya felt her way down the dark hall to the kitchen. Stopping to get her bearings, she thought she heard the sounds of heavy breathing. She paused for a second. The odor of sweat drifted to her, and something else, something foul-smelling. She stepped back into the hall, panic welling up in her.
Something growled and clicked its jaws, a dark form moving sluggishly, drunkenly, lurching toward her, hands reaching for her.
She screamed and ran down the hall, tripping in her haste, falling to the carpet, still screaming out her fear. She could see the thing coming toward her. The lights popped back on.
It was Dick Piano.
Bob vaulted over her and slammed a body block against Dick, knocking him through the hall archway and tumbling him through the closed kitchen door and out onto the porch. Dick screamed his foamy rage and ran into the night.
“That was Dick!” Brett said. “But what the hell was the matter with him? His eyes were black!”
Bob helped his wife to her feet and comforted her, big arms around her slight form. He said, “Dick Plano or not, I'll kill the son of a bitch if I ever see him again.”
“He was foaming at the mouth!” Tanya said. She pushed away from her husband. “I'll be all right.” She looked at Brett and grinned a shaky smile as she noticed what he held in his hand. “What were you going to do, Brett, hit him with a fire extinguisher?”
They all laughed in the now brightly lit hall.
Brett shook his head and joined in the laughter. “No,” he chuckled. “This thing was on the side of the fireplace. I remembered seeing it—remembered Bob telling me after that spark caught the den on fire last year he was going to get one—and the first thing I thought of was the kitchen being on fire.” He looked at Kiri. “I told you I thought I saw Dick following us.”
“That wasn't the Dick we know, Brett, she replied. “That was a madman.” She looked past him, into the kitchen, her eyes widening. She opened her mouth and let out a blood-chilling scream. She pointed to the kitchen. They all spun around. The floor was covered with huge mutant roaches.
Tanya slapped at her leg, dislodging several bugs that had bitten her. Both she and Kiri were screaming in fear and disgust.
“Get 'em out of here!” Brett shouted to Bob. He opened the valve to the big foam extinguisher and sprayed the area in front of the archway.
As if sensing they were faced with something they could not combat, the mutant roaches raced backward, piling atop one another in their haste to escape the hissing foam that had stopped the advance scouts cold.
Without thinking why he was doing it, Brett picked up the dustpan Kiri had dropped on the hall floor and scooped up two dozen or more of the creatures. Back in the den, he dropped the creatures, still numb from the spray, into a long handled popcorn skillet hanging by the fireplace and let the lid drop shut, sealing them in.
“What the hell are you doing?” Bob yelled at him.
Look at Tanya's legs!” Brett ignored his question. “See if she's been bitten.”
By a roach!”
Never mind, I'll explain in a minute. You got a gun close by?”

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