flew across the horizon and became trapped in the netting. It fluttered its wings trying to pry itself off the sticky, gossamer web, entangling itself even further. Twenty large spiders banded together, covering the entire bird with their hairy, black bodies. The sparrow trilled once, a sharp penetrating shrill that seemed to beg for help, then was silenced.
Instead, what was left of the sparrow was its mangled body, de-fleshed and without its feathers, its bone gleaming in the sunshine like bath salt. The body dangled in the sky. Shuddering, Hanna rubbed her eyes in sheer disbelief at what she had seen. The spiders as one started to fall, jettisoning from webs in perfect synchronicity.
It was raining spiders.
III
Chaos.
That was the word which entered Clifton’s head as he pulled up on the edge of Maple Street. He thought he had seen it all, but spiders falling out of the sky were something else. Although he didn’t have arachnophobia by any means, he still felt his flesh crawl at the sight of them. Despite reports to the contrary, he still suspected it was some kind of terrorist attack; some new biological threat which had somehow been hidden from them. Clifton fastened his black jacket, slipped his handgun into the holster under it, then climbed out of the car and jogged to the makeshift command post that had been set up midway down the street. He was grateful as he approached that someone had decided to put up an awning over the myriad of computers.
“Who is in charge here?” Clifton said as he strode into the tent.
“I am. I’m special agent Grimshaw,” replied a thin waif of a man sporting horn-rimmed glasses.
“Not anymore. You answer to me now,” Clifton shot back, giving the thousand yard stare.
Grimshaw nodded and turned his attention back to the piece of machinery that he was configuring on the table.
“What the hell is that?” Clifton said, watching the man as he worked with precision at the machines innards.
“Drone. I was about to send it down into the hole, but I guess now that’s up to you to decide…sir.”
Clifton noted the tone of Grimshaw's voice, but let it slide. He had bigger fish to fry.
“Go ahead and send it down, I was briefed on the way here. Anything else to report in the last twenty minutes?”
Grimshaw shook his head. “No. We have men evacuating the houses this morning after the one that was swallowed by the hole overnight, and a spider wrangler on the way in to have a look at these damn things that are falling from the sky. We emailed him over a photograph of one and he almost blew his load right there and then. Completely new species he says. He should be here soon.”
“Good work. What about that thing?” Clifton said, pointing to the semi-assembled drone on the table. “What will it be able to tell us?”
“More than any man could,” Grimshaw shot back. “We need it down there to gather data; there have been reports of… noises down there.”
“What kind of noises?”
“I’m not sure, sir, that’s what we intend to find out.”
Clifton rubbed his temples, trying to stave off a headache which he knew was on its way.
“How many men do you have here with you, Grimshaw?”
“Just eight, sir, including me.”
“Understood. I’m going to make a few calls. Within the hour, we will have a full military presence. I don’t want the public panicking and throwing themselves down that damn hole in the ground.”
“Most of them are scared enough to leave without resistance, sir.”
“Good work. I want regular updates as you get them.”
“Excuse me, sir, but I was under the impression that you were staying here to oversee the operation?”
“I am,” Clifton said. “But first, I’m going to go and stop that kid that’s standing on the edge of the hole from falling in.”
Grimshaw looked up from his work and saw Morgan standing on the edge of the hole, holding an empty jar in his hands. Clifton felt a tugging in his guts as he looked
Instead, what was left of the sparrow was its mangled body, de-fleshed and without its feathers, its bone gleaming in the sunshine like bath salt. The body dangled in the sky. Shuddering, Hanna rubbed her eyes in sheer disbelief at what she had seen. The spiders as one started to fall, jettisoning from webs in perfect synchronicity.
It was raining spiders.
III
Chaos.
That was the word which entered Clifton’s head as he pulled up on the edge of Maple Street. He thought he had seen it all, but spiders falling out of the sky were something else. Although he didn’t have arachnophobia by any means, he still felt his flesh crawl at the sight of them. Despite reports to the contrary, he still suspected it was some kind of terrorist attack; some new biological threat which had somehow been hidden from them. Clifton fastened his black jacket, slipped his handgun into the holster under it, then climbed out of the car and jogged to the makeshift command post that had been set up midway down the street. He was grateful as he approached that someone had decided to put up an awning over the myriad of computers.
“Who is in charge here?” Clifton said as he strode into the tent.
“I am. I’m special agent Grimshaw,” replied a thin waif of a man sporting horn-rimmed glasses.
“Not anymore. You answer to me now,” Clifton shot back, giving the thousand yard stare.
Grimshaw nodded and turned his attention back to the piece of machinery that he was configuring on the table.
“What the hell is that?” Clifton said, watching the man as he worked with precision at the machines innards.
“Drone. I was about to send it down into the hole, but I guess now that’s up to you to decide…sir.”
Clifton noted the tone of Grimshaw's voice, but let it slide. He had bigger fish to fry.
“Go ahead and send it down, I was briefed on the way here. Anything else to report in the last twenty minutes?”
Grimshaw shook his head. “No. We have men evacuating the houses this morning after the one that was swallowed by the hole overnight, and a spider wrangler on the way in to have a look at these damn things that are falling from the sky. We emailed him over a photograph of one and he almost blew his load right there and then. Completely new species he says. He should be here soon.”
“Good work. What about that thing?” Clifton said, pointing to the semi-assembled drone on the table. “What will it be able to tell us?”
“More than any man could,” Grimshaw shot back. “We need it down there to gather data; there have been reports of… noises down there.”
“What kind of noises?”
“I’m not sure, sir, that’s what we intend to find out.”
Clifton rubbed his temples, trying to stave off a headache which he knew was on its way.
“How many men do you have here with you, Grimshaw?”
“Just eight, sir, including me.”
“Understood. I’m going to make a few calls. Within the hour, we will have a full military presence. I don’t want the public panicking and throwing themselves down that damn hole in the ground.”
“Most of them are scared enough to leave without resistance, sir.”
“Good work. I want regular updates as you get them.”
“Excuse me, sir, but I was under the impression that you were staying here to oversee the operation?”
“I am,” Clifton said. “But first, I’m going to go and stop that kid that’s standing on the edge of the hole from falling in.”
Grimshaw looked up from his work and saw Morgan standing on the edge of the hole, holding an empty jar in his hands. Clifton felt a tugging in his guts as he looked
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