Sacrificing Virgins by John Everson Page A

Roaches.
    â€œStay here, don’t move,” I told Kara and set her on the couch.
    Then I started stomping.
    When the room was a glistening mess of bug guts and broken wings, I finally reached the window and pulled the drapes aside. The glass on one of the side windows had broken, and insects were still crawling up and over the jagged glass to drop into the room. The room hummed with their high-pitched, ululating trills. I reached back and grabbed a throw pillow from the couch, stuffing it roughly into the hole that had been my window. Its threads caught on the edges of the glass, and when I was certain the room was airtight again, I continued my stamping campaign until I felt sure that every keening bug was dead. The carpet was a mess of orange goo, and Jenna still hadn’t moved from the floor.
    â€œMommy’s asleep” Kara pronounced, and I realized my wife had fainted.
    â€œLet’s put her to bed,” I said, and with Kara holding on to my leg, I grunted, groaned and eventually staggered aloft again with her mother in my arms. I tucked Jenna under the covers as carefully as she normally tucked Kara, and checked to make sure she was still alive. Her slow, steady breath whispered gently in my ear, telling me that shock had sent her into more peaceful dreams than I was wont to have. When I looked up, my daughter stood at the edge of the bed, brown eyes brimming with salty concern. Her cheeks glistened, and I could see her tiny chest shivering with fright.
    â€œWill Mommy be okay?” she whispered.
    â€œShe’ll be fine,” I promised. “She’s just scared and tired. Let’s climb in with her and get some sleep, too, okay?”
    Kara nodded. I scooped her up and slid her into the center of the bed and climbed in beside her. Once beneath the sheets, it didn’t take long before I heard the long slow rhythm of my baby’s deep sleep breathing kick in as she clung to her mother’s back. I thought about waking Jenna to make sure she was okay, but then decided she was better off just to sleep, while she could. Lord knows I couldn’t. I wished that I could join the two of them, but instead I lay awake, listening to the light rain of bugs battering against the roof and windows of my house for what seemed like hours. My ears magnified every creak of the house into the echo of an imaginary phalanx of roaches advancing on my bed. I kept itching at phantom touches on my head and legs and hands, driving myself crazy with the idea that a new attack of insects would descend to smother us there in the bed at any moment. At some point, long past midnight, the sound finally quieted and the house grew quiet. I put a hand on my baby’s shoulder, and eventually fell asleep myself.
    It was the last good sleep I can remember having.
    â€œDaddy,” Kara said, pushing tiny hands against my shoulder. “Daddy, I’m hungry and Mommy won’t get up.”
    I blinked heavy lids open and squinted against the glare. The sun was fully up in the sky and the room glowed with the searchlight of morning. Kara sat in the middle of the bed in her Candy Kids nightgown, dark hair tousled, but eyes bright as the sun.
    â€œDaddy?” she said again.
    I rolled over and hugged her, and then prodded Jenna. Nothing happened.
    I pushed against her back again, and then pressed my head to her side. She was breathing.
    â€œShe won’t wake up, Daddy. I’m scared.”
    â€œLet her sleep,” I said, slipping out of the bed and grabbing Kara in my arms. “Let’s go have some cereal and let her sleep.”
    I tried to sound boisterous as I said it, but inside, my heart was dissolving like ice on the beach. I knew why Jenna wouldn’t get up. A chill went through me as I thought about it. God, we’d slept right next to her. But I knew if I moved her hair aside, I’d find the shell of a Luna Roach attached to her neck.
    I choked back a tear as I reached for a