recalling the cute little harvestman spider in the Soup Express building. I remembered how delicate its legs were and how harmless it had looked skittering across the broad surface of my hand.
I remembered thinking about how spiders were good to have in the house, and how Pops had once told me that they were bad luck to kill. I’d laughed at him over that part. Stupid superstitious Pops. Spiders weren’t lucky; they were just bugs.
Pops had smacked me upside the head when I shared that sentiment with him. They weren’t merely bugs, he’d said. They were the apex predators of the bug world. And, he’d grudgingly admitted, it would make our ant infestation problem worse if we killed the bugs that ate them, which would definitely be unlucky.
I remembered all of that in the span of a heartbeat.
Then that heartbeat passed, and I realized that Suzy and I were the infestation problem that the apex predators were out to fix that day.
The demon came hurtling out of the darkness at the end of the tunnel.
Seeing Connie’s ghost hadn’t prepared me for the sight of an arachnid the size of an eight-legged pony. It was brown, leathery, wrinkled, covered in hair. Reddish stripes marked its legs and back. It looked kind of like a wolf spider. A huge fucking wolf spider.
And it moved like lightning.
It hit Suzy. She fell under it with a scream that rattled inside the tight mineshaft. Her Maglite went flying, lighting up the roof in a brief flash before it hit the ground.
The light went out.
It was on top of her, and apparently, it was stronger than its size suggested. Suzy kicked and shoved and couldn’t get it off of her.
I slammed my shoe into the daimarachnid’s head—did spiders even have heads?—and smashed it against the wall. One of its flailing legs knocked me off balance.
Yeah, it was strong. Really fucking strong. Like getting kneecapped by a baseball bat.
Suzy fired again. Bang! Black blood sprayed up the wall.
It didn’t deter the spider.
I dropped my Maglite as I hurried to my feet. From the floor, the flashlight magnified all of the shadows a dozen times, casting the scurrying spider in a dark silhouette that consumed most of the tunnel.
I could only make out Suzy’s struggle in brief flashes between the moments of light and darkness as the flashlight spun.
She kicked the demon in the pincers.
Got her shoe caught in its mouth.
Fangs glistened, dripped poison.
A dainty-boned fist slammed into one of the gleaming red eyes. The eyeball erupted. Fluid gushed down the side of its face.
She shot again. Bang!
Another spray of blood.
I leveled my Desert Eagle but couldn’t get a clear shot, not with Suzy still fighting underneath it.
“Shoot the fucker in the fucking face!” she roared. She swung another punch. The demon released her foot and bit down on her sleeve.
I wanted to shoot it. I did. I’d finally found the circumstances under which my inner pacifist was subdued by my much more hidden inner warrior, and I’d never wanted to shoot anything as much as I wanted to shoot that spider.
But my aim sucked, and there was no clear shot.
“I can’t—I might hit you!”
Suzy screamed as she emptied her magazine into its belly with her free hand. The exoskeleton cracked. Stinging blood sprayed over me.
The demon jerked with every impact, but didn’t get off of her. Didn’t let go of her arm.
My left ear, unprotected by the noise-canceling Bluetooth earpiece, was ringing sharply. The handguns were too loud in an enclosed space and I could barely hear the scuffle now. Could have been more daimarachnids coming at us and I never would have known.
A jerking leg smacked my flashlight, spun it in the opposite direction. Now I couldn’t see Suzy and the spider at all.
Her muffled voice penetrated my ringing skull. “Shoot, Cèsar!” Even half-deaf, I could feel her panic right through my guts.
I launched myself at the spider, wrapping my arms around its massive body. Kind of like hugging an
I remembered thinking about how spiders were good to have in the house, and how Pops had once told me that they were bad luck to kill. I’d laughed at him over that part. Stupid superstitious Pops. Spiders weren’t lucky; they were just bugs.
Pops had smacked me upside the head when I shared that sentiment with him. They weren’t merely bugs, he’d said. They were the apex predators of the bug world. And, he’d grudgingly admitted, it would make our ant infestation problem worse if we killed the bugs that ate them, which would definitely be unlucky.
I remembered all of that in the span of a heartbeat.
Then that heartbeat passed, and I realized that Suzy and I were the infestation problem that the apex predators were out to fix that day.
The demon came hurtling out of the darkness at the end of the tunnel.
Seeing Connie’s ghost hadn’t prepared me for the sight of an arachnid the size of an eight-legged pony. It was brown, leathery, wrinkled, covered in hair. Reddish stripes marked its legs and back. It looked kind of like a wolf spider. A huge fucking wolf spider.
And it moved like lightning.
It hit Suzy. She fell under it with a scream that rattled inside the tight mineshaft. Her Maglite went flying, lighting up the roof in a brief flash before it hit the ground.
The light went out.
It was on top of her, and apparently, it was stronger than its size suggested. Suzy kicked and shoved and couldn’t get it off of her.
I slammed my shoe into the daimarachnid’s head—did spiders even have heads?—and smashed it against the wall. One of its flailing legs knocked me off balance.
Yeah, it was strong. Really fucking strong. Like getting kneecapped by a baseball bat.
Suzy fired again. Bang! Black blood sprayed up the wall.
It didn’t deter the spider.
I dropped my Maglite as I hurried to my feet. From the floor, the flashlight magnified all of the shadows a dozen times, casting the scurrying spider in a dark silhouette that consumed most of the tunnel.
I could only make out Suzy’s struggle in brief flashes between the moments of light and darkness as the flashlight spun.
She kicked the demon in the pincers.
Got her shoe caught in its mouth.
Fangs glistened, dripped poison.
A dainty-boned fist slammed into one of the gleaming red eyes. The eyeball erupted. Fluid gushed down the side of its face.
She shot again. Bang!
Another spray of blood.
I leveled my Desert Eagle but couldn’t get a clear shot, not with Suzy still fighting underneath it.
“Shoot the fucker in the fucking face!” she roared. She swung another punch. The demon released her foot and bit down on her sleeve.
I wanted to shoot it. I did. I’d finally found the circumstances under which my inner pacifist was subdued by my much more hidden inner warrior, and I’d never wanted to shoot anything as much as I wanted to shoot that spider.
But my aim sucked, and there was no clear shot.
“I can’t—I might hit you!”
Suzy screamed as she emptied her magazine into its belly with her free hand. The exoskeleton cracked. Stinging blood sprayed over me.
The demon jerked with every impact, but didn’t get off of her. Didn’t let go of her arm.
My left ear, unprotected by the noise-canceling Bluetooth earpiece, was ringing sharply. The handguns were too loud in an enclosed space and I could barely hear the scuffle now. Could have been more daimarachnids coming at us and I never would have known.
A jerking leg smacked my flashlight, spun it in the opposite direction. Now I couldn’t see Suzy and the spider at all.
Her muffled voice penetrated my ringing skull. “Shoot, Cèsar!” Even half-deaf, I could feel her panic right through my guts.
I launched myself at the spider, wrapping my arms around its massive body. Kind of like hugging an
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