Carver Pike - Scalp

The pounding outside grew louder, and even though Hal heard it, he was more focused on the silent world in front of him where these pint-size beetles couldn’t care less about what was going on around them. It was like watching fish in a tank. They would move around and go about their business freely until something deemed a hazard was introduced into their world.

Hal understood. They needed to introduce the infected.

Yet, even though Andre swore the ladybugs would attack the head lice, Hal found it too difficult to believe.

“In the daytime, I open up that panel there so their world can get some light,” Andre said, pointing up at the ceiling. “I’ll climb up there in a bit and make sure the siren keeps goin’.”

“And then what?” Hal asked.

“And then we see what my little friends here can do,” Andre said.

The siren blared. Then it died.

They’d all been sitting outside the tent, watching through the transparent fabric as the ladybugs fluttered around the room. Hal kept asking about the plan, but all Andre would tell him was, “We have to wait until they all get here.”

When the shout of the siren ceased, Andre looked up at the ceiling and cursed, “Damn. That was sooner than expected.”

“Now what?” Hal asked.

Hal looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days, and Andre had to wonder about his own appearance. The cuts and bruises from the night his other truck flipped still ached like a motherfucker. His body was stiff, and he knew the climb up to the roof would be an agonizing one. It hurt earlier when he did it, and he wasn’t looking forward to feeling that pain again, but it had to be done.

“Look,” Andre said as he stood and spoke to them all, “I have a plan… of sorts.”

“A plan of sorts?” Bradley asked. “That doesn’t sound like a very good plan.”

Andre had only recently learned all their names and he had a feeling this kid would be one of the ones to challenge him. He had that class nerd vibe. Like he probably already knew everything there was to know about ladybugs and was going to suggest shit the whole night. Andre didn’t have time for any snot-nosed brats. He’d only wanted to save them. Now, he was stuck babysitting.

“It’s a damn plan,” Andre assured him, “which is better than what I hear you proposin’!”

Bradley looked down at his lap. His little girlfriend gave his hand a squeeze. Andre waited to see if Phyllis would give him any lip. She didn’t.

“Let’s hear it,” Grant said.

Andre cleared his throat. “I’m gonna climb up there and get that siren going again. I’ll also look out to see how many of those things are headed this way. If it looks like we got ‘em all, we’ll get started.”

He paused long enough for Hal to raise his eyebrows and say, “That’s the whole plan?”

“No, that ain’t the whole plan,” Andre replied. “Then we’re going to let ‘em in here.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Hal challenged him.

“The ladybugs,” Andre said as he pointed toward the tent. “We let them in here and then we hide in the other room while the ladybugs go to work.”

Everyone started to argue. It was really pissing Andre off. He regretted bringing them all here. He really didn’t need them around for this to go down, but they hadn’t had much time, and he needed to get on with his plan. Andre rubbed his temples while the others argued with him. Or, not with him since he wasn’t really a part of the argument anymore. He’d backed off and was now a spectator as the rest of them discussed the situation.

Finally, Nitsy spoke up above the rest, “Excuse me, Mr. Andre, but what is it the ladybugs are supposed to do?”

“Just Andre, honey,” he replied. “And what they’re supposed to do is eat those goddamn lice right off their goddamn heads.”

“And if they don’t?” Hal asked.

“Then we run like hell,” Andre said.

Sally scoffed. Grant rolled his eyes. The kids made those stupid sounds kids make with their mouths whenever they’re told to put away their phone at the dinner table or turn off their video game. Every time he saw that disgusted look on a kid’s face or heard that noise, it reminded him how happy he was that he never had kids.

“You said the ladybugs are supposed to kill the creatures,” Nitsy said, “but what about the hosts? All those people out there?”

“Yeah,” Bradley chimed in. “Even if you kill all the microscopic ones… even if the ladybugs eat all the eggs growing on their heads, the people—”

“I like Nitsy’s word, the hosts,” Andre interrupted.

People sounded too personal. His wife, Lizzie, was probably out there somewhere, and he couldn’t afford to think of her as a person anymore. Sure, they hadn’t had the most romantic of relationships, but they were hitched, and that meant something to Andre. For all the bitching and complaining she did, there were a hundred good things about her.

Andre shook off the image of his wife cuddling up close to him on the couch to watch TV. Like an asshole, he’d started sitting in his personal reclining chair. That was a little bit fucked-up. He realized that now, and it was too late.

“They’re hosts,” Andre repeated.

“Sure,” Bradley said, “whatever. The ladybugs can’t eat the ones already inside the hosts, right?”

“Probably not,” Andre said. “Sadly, I think we’ll have to use the guns on them. But at least the little ones can’t jump on anybody else, you know what I mean?”

“Have to expect some casualties in a war,” Thomas said.

Andre liked that kid. It was a shame what happened to his parents, but he seemed like a smart boy.

It wasn’t a perfect plan, Andre knew that, but it was the only reasonable one he’d come up with, and like Thomas said, there were always casualties in war. This was definitely a war, and he was lucky to have a weapon that might turn the tide. It just so happened he’d started this farm a while back and had made a shit ton of money selling plastic containers of these ladybugs to farmers growing organic vegetables. It also just so happened ladybugs ate pesky insects… like lice.

Hal chewed his inner cheek and then finally said, “So, your plan is to have the ladybugs kill all the eggs and lice without hosts and then open fire on all the hosts?”

Andre shrugged, and even as he did so, he knew he hated his plan, but if it helped prevent the spread, it was something. The pounding on the door was starting to worry him a bit. He’d thought that solid barrier would have no problem keeping them out until he was ready to let them in, but they wanted in here something fierce. The door might not be able to hold them much longer. He needed to get the rest of them up here before he ran out of time.

When nobody asked any other questions, Andre nodded and walked into the tent. He was careful not to step on any of the ladybugs, which was hard to do with them everywhere. They moved around his feet, flew between his legs, and one landed on his arm. Picking it up gently and putting it on a leaf, Andre whispered to the bug, “Stay right here, buddy. I need all the soldiers I can get.”

At the back of the room, behind the large tree, was a Velcro flap that let him exit the tent. On the other side was a steel ladder that led up to the roof. He climbed it quickly, feeling his muscles wince and his wounds ache with each step. At the top, he unlocked a heavy hatch and shoved it open.

Next to the open hatch, he sat on the tar roof for a second. The siren was bolted to the edge, over near the front of the building, but he took a moment to appreciate the fresh, clean air outside. Inside felt stuffy to him. He’d spent so much time in the farm that he could barely appreciate the garden-like scent in there. Everyone else seemed to enjoy it. To him, it reminded him of the war and being underground and in the trenches. He felt claustrophobic in there.