David Wong - This Book is Full of Spiders

Pause again. He made eye contact with each of the four, individually.

I thought Tennet said five hundred…

“Yeah. That’s right. Only reason we’re still stuck here is because even after nine days, the feds ain’t come up with a test that works. So they’re guessin’. And I’m gonna bet that none of you are infected, neither. So here’s how we do it. We got an expert here, who can spot infection on sight. He’s gonna look you over, and once you’ve got a clean bill of health, we’ll cut off those handcuffs, take you indoors and get you set up with a room and some blankets and whatever else you need. Sound good?”

Nobody answered.

Owen looked at me. The new kids looked at me. Everyone else looked at me. I was not breathing.

TJ said, “Do it, and then it’ll be done.”

He walked me up to the first guy, a geeky-looking kid with acne cheeks. He was squinting because he had apparently lost a pair of glasses at some point. TJ said, in a voice that suddenly reminded me he had spent some years in the military, “I’m going to need you to open your mouth for me, sir.”

The kid’s eyes darted around, looking for someone to rescue him from all this.

Man, chill out. I just need to check to see if a mind-controlling spider monster has possessed your head.

He opened his mouth. Looked like a regular human mouth. Lots of cavities in his back teeth.

I said, “He’s fine.”

The kid closed his mouth and his eyes at the same time. Relief rolling off him like a boulder. All at once it hit me that I was the most powerful man in the quarantine.

TJ said, “What’s your name, sir?”

“Tim,” said the geeky kid.

“Welcome to quarantine, Tim. We’re glad to have you.” TJ spun him around and pulled out a pair of wire cutters. He snipped the plastic bands that served as handcuffs and the kid immediately rubbed the deep red marks on his wrists.

I moved to the next kid. Tall, square jaw. Probably played high school or college basketball. Without me asking, he opened his mouth and moved his tongue around, making sure I could see everything. Confident. Here was a guy who’d never failed a test in his life, mental or physical. Probably be a senator someday. Perfect teeth.

I said, “Yeah, he’s fine.”

This one said, “Kevin” as TJ snipped off his cuffs. “Kevin Ross. And I can climb that fence in about ten seconds if we can get something draped up over that razor wire. Rip up some carpet from in there, something like that.”

TJ said, “Yeah, that thought was thought before. Didn’t work out so well.”

Two people left now, the girl and a kid with curly hair who reminded me of Jonah Hill’s character in Superbad .

The girl was next. She was a hippie. I could tell, even dressed in a red prisoner jumpsuit. She had some haphazard braids in her hair, and that dopey trusting look in her eyes, like she was seeing the goodness of your soul at a glance.

She gave me what I can only describe as a tragic smile and in a shaky voice said, “Hi. What’s your name?”

“David. Just open your mouth for me, okay?”

“I feel like I’m going to be sick, David.”

“I’ll stand off to the side, then. This’ll only take a second.”

She smiled again. A tear ran down her cheek.

I said, “Come on, open up.”

She did. She was a smoker, apparently, the front teeth had some yellow. Not a single cavity, though. Good for her.

She was fully crying now.

I said, “It’s fine, it looks fine. You can calm down, okay? We’ll all get through this.” I put a hand on her arm. Look at me, acting all in charge and professional.

Don’t worry! I’m the expert!

She whispered something between sobs that I couldn’t make out.

“What was that?”

“Check again.”

“I can if you want but—”

“Because a week ago I had a pierced tongue, with a stud in it.” She squeezed her eyes and sobbed, trying to suck in breaths to get the words out. “And now I don’t.”

“What? I don’t under—”

But I did understand.

She woke up one morning, and realized her mouth was not her own.

Oh Jesus no no no.

She held her mouth open, extra wide this time. I didn’t want to look. But I couldn’t help it. And, of course, I saw it. Between her lower front teeth and her lower lip, two black mandibles rested there.

I recoiled in horror, and everybody nearby reacted with me.

Owen was already on the move, striding toward the girl from behind, with purpose. She went down to her knees, weeping.

TJ got in front of me, pushing me back away from her. I said, “Okay, okay. You, uh, you said you got a cure, right? We’ve got a procedure here?”

TJ said, “Cover your ears, man.” He was cramming something into his ears, it looked like cotton balls. The people around me were covering their ears with their hands.

“But why are—”

Owen stepped up behind the girl, pulled an automatic pistol from his waistband, and splattered her brains all over the grass in front of her.

Her body flopped to the ground. The other three new arrivals flew into a panic.

I had thought everyone was covering their ears for the gunshot, but then the piercing shriek started, the cry of the spider creature. I wedged my fingers into my eardrums as hard as I could. I could still feel it vibrating my bones.

They worked fast. Owen—who I noticed had cigarette butts wedged into his ears—flipped the girl over. I could see the spider trying to detach and crawl out of her skull now, growing out of the girl’s mouth like a huge, grotesque black tongue. TJ uncapped both jugs, then carefully poured the contents of one jug into the other. Mixing something. After a moment, steam or smoke emerged from the opening of this new concoction. Owen stepped back and TJ poured the entire contents of the jug into the girl’s mouth.

The shriek was cranked up to a level that sent a tremor through my guts. The spider thrashed. The girl’s cheeks and lips dissolved under the acid, the liquid running out of ragged holes in her skin. The spider was dissolving, too, legs falling off as it thrashed.

Eventually, its horrific cries died down, and it was still.

Owen stuffed the pistol into his pants and grabbed the girl’s feet. He said, “Come on, before Carlos comes calling.”

The one I’d been calling Wheelchair Guy shouldered past me and grabbed the girl’s wrists. They dragged her toward the now-roaring bonfire. On the count of three they tossed her corpse right into the blaze, sending an explosion of sparks heavenward. The flames tore into her flesh and I smelled what I had mistaken for smoked barbecue ribs just minutes ago.

Then, finally, I saw.

Bones.

In the bonfire. Bones and bones and bones. It was full of them. Blackened skulls and ribs and pelvic bones and straight leg and arm bones jutting out like sticks. Hundreds and hundreds of bones.

The girl’s hair was burning. Her jumpsuit was peeling off of her in black strips, like the skin on a hot dog roasted over a campfire. I was just talking to her.

I will remember that smell for the rest of my life. I will never eat meat again.

Owen said to me, “Get over it, bro. You got one more.”

“No. No. That… cannot be the only way to do this.”

Owen growled, “Bull shit. You didn’t have no problem when it was Sal you were callin’ out. Now you lose your fuckin’ nerve?”

“Man, I don’t remember—okay, look, that was then. That… that’s the past and it doesn’t matter now. I can’t do that anymore. I’m sorry.”

There was a commotion behind me and TJ shouted, “Hey! Stop! Don’t!”