The Bug - Episode 2 Page 3

  She sat up and leaned in closer to the monitor, trying to get a better understanding of what was happening down there. Were Immy's eyes closed or open? Was she sitting up or lying down? If she could figure that out she'd know what the odds were of her darling daughter dropping back off.

  The baby monitor buzzed softly in Abbie’s ear. She could still hear Immy breathing, but there was another sound, too. A scuff of footsteps on carpet. Abbie’s stomach tightened and her lungs seemed to stop working altogether as she realized with complete clarity that her daughter was not alone in her room.

  She’d never thought of herself as a brave woman, and even as she leaped from her bed and raced into the hallway in her pajamas, she still didn’t. Her baby – her daughter – was in danger. Nothing else mattered but that.

  Immy’s room was on the ground floor, but Abbie didn’t even notice herself flying to the stairs, or taking them in bounds of two and three.

  Snatching a heavy wooden candlestick from the sideboard, she barged into the room, throwing the door wide and screaming like a woman possessed.

  “Get away from my baby!”

  “What the Hell?” yelped Mark, ducking and holding up his arms to protect himself from his wild-eyed wife. “It’s me, it’s me! Abbie, it’s me!”

  Abbie dropped the candlestick and covered her mouth with both hands. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she let out something that was halfway between a sob and a laugh of relief.

  “Oh God! Oh God, Mark! I almost brained you,” she said between big, gulping breaths. “I thought you were a burglar or, I don’t know, someone. With all the sirens outside tonight, I thought…”

  Mark stepped in and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. “Ssh, it’s OK. It’s OK.”

  With her head pressed in against Mark’s chest, Abbie could just seem Immy’s face. Her eyes were wide and sparkling as she reached up for the mobile dangling above her. There’d be no getting her back to sleep now, but for the first time in weeks, Abbie was happy about that.

  “What you doing home, anyway?” Abbie asked, still content to stay snuggled in Mark’s bear hug.

  “Strangest thing happened,” said Mark. “I’d picked up some guy in Blackhill and run him out Dumbarton direction. About, I don’t know, couple of hours ago. So I pull up, right, and he pays me in cash.”

  Mark stopped. “I’m not sure that qualifies as ‘the strangest thing’,” Abbie said, but with her head against her husband’s chest, she could hear his heart pounding much faster than normal. “What is it?” she asked. “What happened?”

  “It’s just… As he was handing me over the money, this… thing fell out of his sleeve, right onto my hand.”

  Abbie drew back so she could see Mark’s face. His eyes darted left and right, as if searching for a memory he couldn’t quite track down. “What do you mean ‘this thing’? What thing?”

  Mark’s eyes stopped shifting and fixed on her. “A bug,” he said. “It was a bug.”

  “A bug?” Abbie frowned. Her whole body convulsed involuntarily. “Jesus. What sort of bug?”

  “A… a big one. I don’t know. Not something I’ve ever seen before,” Mark said. “It was big and black and shiny and I knew I should be freaking out, but… it was so weird. I wasn’t.”

  “You weren’t? I would have been. I mean, Jesus, I’m freaking out about it now,” Abbie said. “What did you say?”

  “To the bug?”

  Abbie smiled and slapped him gently on the chest. “To the passenger. The guy whose sleeve it fell out of. I mean, as tips go, that one’s not great.”

  “Oh, him. Um, nothing. I don’t remember where he went after that.”

  “What about the bug? Did you kill it?” Abbie asked.

  Mark stiffened. “What?”

  “Did you kill it? The bug?”

  “Of course I didn’t fucking kill it,” Mark snapped, his voice suddenly filled with venom. “Why the fuck would I kill it? What kind of question’s that?”

  Abbie stepped back in surprise. “OK. Jesus, I only asked. No need to be a dick about it. I thought you’d have killed it. What did you do with it?”

  “Nothing,” said Mark, the anger in his voice now replaced by an even flatness. “I didn’t do anything with it.”

  “Then where did it go?” asked Abbie, frowning again.

  Mark stepped closer. His breathing seemed unnaturally loud in the dark. “I think… I think it went inside me.”

  Abbie snorted a laugh. “Inside you?” she said. She searched his face, but saw nothing there to suggest he was joking. “What are you talking about? How could it have gone inside you?”

  “I don’t know,” Mark admitted. “But I can hear it.”

  “Hear it? The bug that went inside you, you can hear it?”

  Mark nodded slowly. “It thinks… It thinks we should kill the baby.”

  Abbie felt her stomach tighten for the second time in the space of five minutes. “Shut up, Mark. That’s not funny.”

  Mark stepped forwards and wrapped his arms around his wife again, pinning her own arms to her side. He pulled her in close, squashing her hard against his broad chest. “I don’t want to, babe, I don’t want to,” he whispered. “But we have to. The bug says we have to. I have to.”

  “Let go of me,” Abbie said, struggling to break free of Mark’s grip. “Mark, you fucking let go of me right now.”

  “We don’t need it. We were fine before it came along. We’ll be fine again once it’s gone,” Mark said.

  “She, Mark, and this is not funny. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but the joke is fucking over. Let me go right now.”

  Over in her crib, Immy began to cry. Abbie felt a scream of rage well up inside her. It burst from her lips as she brought one knee up sharply, driving it deep into Mark’s groin. He groaned and stumbled back, clutching his balls and looking like he might throw up.

  Abbie ran for her crying daughter, but before she could reach Immy, Mark caught her by the arm and spun her round. “You ungrateful fucking whore,” he growled, his face twisted into an expression Abbie had never seen before in all their years together.

  His fist hit her like a wrecking ball, spinning her to the floor. She landed awkwardly on the carpet, her wrist twisting painfully beneath her.

  By the time she’d rolled over, Mark was over the crib, reaching inside. “We don’t need it,” he whispered. “We don’t need it. These are the things a good daddy does.”

  Abbie was on her feet before she’d even thought about moving. Her arm drew back, and she was surprised to see the candlestick in her hand, swinging towards her husband’s head. It hit not with the hollow thud she’d been expecting, but with a nauseating crack that she felt more than heard.

  Mark spun around, hissing like a demon. He flew at Abbie, but her arm came up all by itself again and the heavy base of the candlestick connected just above his right eye. He staggered and fell, a curved line of blood already appearing where the edge of the rounded base had struck him.

  With a crash he hit Immy’s toy box, his forehead slamming against the side of the lid. A sound, like bubbling water rolled from between his lips. He twitched violently, then seemed to deflate into stillness. Abbie hesitated, fighting the instinct to check on him. Instead, she wrapped Immy in her blanket and pulled her in against her chest.

  She was half way to the door when she heard Mark stir. Without looking back, she raced out into the hallway and made for the front door. She had to get outside, flag someone down, get help, get away. Mark was clearly having some sort of breakdown, and much as she loved her husband, she’d kill him before she let him hurt their baby.

  The street outside was empty, and much darker than she’d been expecting. The street lights were out in both directions, but there were more lights on in the other houses than was normal for that time of night.

  Bare-footed, Abbie ran past the first house, which was in darkness. She hammered on the frosted glass door of the next one, where
lights blazed in every window. “Please,” she whispered, knocking rapidly. “Please, someone be up. Someone be up.”

  There was a sound from somewhere inside the house. Abbie glanced back at her own front door and held the crying Immy close. There was no sign of Mark yet, but it was only a matter of time.

  A shape appeared through the frosted glass of the door. “Open up, please,” Abbie said. “I need help.”

  The flat of a hand slapped against the inside of the glass. There was a long squeak as the hand slid down, leaving a streak of blood on the door.

  Abbie stepped back as the hand became a fist and began to pound at the glass. The person inside the house squealed and screeched as he kicked and punched and threw himself at the door. Abbie backed away further, past the parked cars and into the road, watching the distorted shape thrash harder and more violently against the glass.

  “Abbeeeeee!”

  Mark staggered from inside their house, blood painting both sides of his face. He was partly hunched over, his fingers curled up like claws. As he spotted his wife and child, he lurched towards them, his mouth gnashing at the air.

  “No, please, Mark, no,” Abbie sobbed, backing all the way to the other side of the road. Mark broke into a run. His movements were jerky, his face now twisted almost beyond all recognition. Abbie clutched Immy tightly against her chest, shielding her. Whatever happened. Whatever Mark did, he wouldn’t let him hurt their baby.

  “No, Mark, please, stay back,” Amy whimpered, then she squinted in a sudden glare as Mark was silhouetted by two powerful beams of light.

  A white delivery van hit him like a battering ram, sending him skidding along the road on his face. For a moment, Abbie could only stare at his unmoving body in shock. But then his foot twitched and his fingers curled, and, to her amazement, he began to sit up.

  With a creak, the van’s passenger door was pushed open. A young man with dark skin and darker eyes leaned over from the driver’s seat and beckoned urgently to her. “Hey, lady,” he called. “You getting in or what?”

  SHOP WISE GROCERY STORE, BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS

  24th May, 8:26 PM

  “Phone’s not working,” said Col, pushing through the swing doors that led through from the back store.

  “End of the world, dude. What do you expect?” said Jaden. He had moved closer to the window again, and was filming Wayne on his phone. The supervisor was currently punching the glass over and over, but if the last five minutes were anything to go by, he’d go back to mashing his face against it soon enough.

  “Holy shit, he looks like he’s been a car accident,” said Col. “Then got chewed up by dogs.”

  Col glanced at the phone. “You’re not really going to put that on YouTube, are you?”

  “Hello? Haven’t you been listening?” said Jaden, not taking his eyes off the screen. “It’s the end of the world. There is no YouTube. This bad boy is strictly for my own amusement.”

  “It’s not the end of the world,” said Col. He tried to laugh, but it was proving surprisingly difficult. “Power’s still on for one thing. OK, so the landline’s down and there’s no cell network. What else is wrong?”

  Wayne sprang forwards and his bloodied face hit the glass like a water balloon. “Except him, obviously,” Col said. “I’m the first to admit, he’s completely fucked up.”

  He studied the glass doors. “Think they’ll hold?”

  “They’ll hold longer than Wayne’s skull, that’s for sure,” Jaden shrugged.

  “Then what?” Col asked. “We go out and find, I don’t know, a cop?”

  “No, we pull down the steel shutters, lock the doors and hole the fuck up in here for the rest of our days,” Jaden said. “Even when the power goes out and the freezers stop working – and they will – we’ve got enough food and stuff to last us into our forties. And who the fuck wants to live to fifty anyway, right?”

  “That’s it?” said Col. He glanced back into the store. “That’s the plan?”

  “That’s the plan,” said Jaden, zooming in for a close-up as Wayne smashed his forehead against the window with a clonk. “We just need to grab one little thing first.”

  Col frowned. “What’s that?”

  “My mom.”

  “Shit. I forgot about your mom,” Col said. He bit his lip. “I hope my parents are OK.”

  “I know. Poor bastards,” said Jaden. “Give me the zombie apocalypse over a high school reunion any day.”

  They both recoiled and let out an “oooh,” as Wayne drew back and mangled his face, nose-first, against the glass.

  “That was a nasty one,” Col said. “That had to hurt.”

  “I know. It was awesome,” Jaden said, grinning. He leaned in and squinted at his screen, then up at the car park. “Wait, is that Joe?”

  Col stepped to the side so he could see past Wayne. “Shit, yeah. That’s Joe.”

  Crossing the car park was a white-haired man in a security guard uniform that looked to be at least two sizes too big. He moved at a snail’s pace, but for Joe that was pretty much full tilt.

  “Shit. We have to warn him,” said Col. He banged on the window. “Joe! Joe, don’t! Get away!”

  Joe glanced at Col, but kept coming. He was saying something, shouting across to Wayne, but Wayne was too heavily invested in the face-mashing to notice.

  “Wait, Joe’s got a gun, hasn’t he?” said Jaden. Col shrugged. “He does. They gave the crazy old bastard a gun, can you believe that?”

  Jaden spun to the window and pointed to Wayne. “Shoot him in the head,” he shouted. “You hear me, Joe? In the head.” Jaden watched the old man hobble closer. “Did he hear me? He didn’t hear me.”

  Jaden cupped his hands around his mouth. “Joe, you deaf old bitch, shoot him in the head!”

  “What?” Joe shouted.

  Wayne turned sharply and Joe’s eyes went wide. “Oh great,” Jaden sighed. “Now he’s fucking dead.”

  The old man fumbled at his holster, but Wayne was already running for him, closing the gap between them in a frantic, frenzied sprint.

  “Shit!” Col spat. He hammered on the glass. “Wayne! Wayne, come back here! We’ve been taking extra breaks! We drunk your Gatorade!”

  “He’s got his gun! Nice work, Joe!” Jaden cheered. Joe had managed to pull the revolver free of its holster at last. He was halfway through raising it when Wayne pounced on him like a lion taking down its prey.

  The old man crumpled and hit the ground hard. Wayne caught Joe’s head in both blood-soaked hands and twisted, as if trying to tear the damn thing off. Joe hollered and kicked and flailed on the tarmac, his arms and legs jerking like a broken puppet.

  “What do we do?” Col yelped. “What do we--?”

  There was a flash and a bang from Joe’s gun and the window to Col’s left disintegrated. Col and Jaden ducked for cover as thousands of razor-sharp shards of glass rained down over the checkouts.

  “Oh fuck,” groaned Jaden, staring at the twelve feet by nine feet hole where the window used to be. “That’s not ideal.”

  Col shoved him towards the corner. “Get the hook,” he barked. “We’ll get the shutters down.”

  Jaden nodded and hurried to grab the long-handled hook they pulled the shutters down with. Joe was still twitching underneath Wayne, but only barely now. “Is he eating him?” Jaden asked, handing Col the pole. “I don’t want to look.”

  “I don’t want to look either,” Col hissed.

  “Well, someone should look,” said Jaden, but Col shook his head and fumbled with the pole, trying to catch hold of the metal loop to pull the shutters down.

  “Just help me get this.”

  “Oh fuck, I looked,” Jaden said, and something in his voice made Col turn, too. Wayne – to his credit – wasn’t eating the old man, but he had smashed Joe’s head against the road so often his shock of white hair was a dark shade of pink.

  Joe was still stirring, but faintly now. Col turned back to the shutters and tried to
steady the hook. He didn’t turn again, not even when Jaden let out a sharp yelp and muttered something about Joe’s eyes.

  Finally, the hook caught on the metal ring. Col pulled down, but the rattling of the metal sheeting made Wayne turn. “Hurry!” Jaden cried, as Wayne launched himself into another frenzied sprint. Col tried to move faster and keep steady both at the same time. A sudden yank, he knew from experience, would make the hook slip.

  “Jesus, you’re like my fucking grandma!” Jaden yelped. He caught hold of the pole and tugged.

  “No, don’t!” Col warned, but too late. The hook lost its grip on the ring and slipped free. The shutter squeaked to a stop.

  Over his shoulder, Col could hear Wayne hissing and huffing towards them. There was no time to get the shutters down now. No time to do anything but run and—

  Jaden thrust the pole sharply past Col. There was a crack and a tearing noise that made Col’s stomach flip all the way over. The pole shuddered and shook for a few moments, then Jaden released his grip and it fell to the ground.

  “Oh,” muttered Jaden, looking down at the ground. “Shit. That’s nasty.”

  “Is he dead?” Col asked. “I don’t want to turn round.” He quickly turned round, but turned back before seeing much of anything. “Is he dead?”

  “Well, he’s got a five-inch metal hook sticking out through the back of his head,” Jaden said. “So yeah, pretty sure he’s dead.”

  “Jesus,” Col hissed. “So… what do we do now?”

  “We stick to the plan,” said Jaden. “We go get my mom, then come back here and hole up. Only difference now is…” He nodded over to where Joe’s body lay. “…now we have a gun.”

  GLASGOW NW POLICE HQ, GLASGOW, SCOTLAND

  25th MAY, 2:21 AM

  Marshall leaned over the reception desk, on the off-chance that someone was hiding on the other side. “Hello?” he called, when he found no-one there. “Anyone about?”

  “Where is everyone?” asked Leanne. There was a note of panic in her voice she was only barely managing to keep a lid on. The drive to the station had only been a mile or so, but it had been like navigating a warzone. She’d been relieved when Marshall had swapped seats with her, but had then spent the rest of the journey just staring in horror at everything going on outside.