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Back The Nest Save as PDF
Chapters (82)
  1. Cover
  2. Copyright page
  3. Introduction by Will Errickson
  4. Acknowledgements
  5. TREMORS
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. SUSPICIONS
  13. 1
  14. 2
  15. 3
  16. 4
  17. 5
  18. DREAD
  19. 1
  20. 2
  21. 3
  22. 4
  23. 5
  24. 6
  25. WITNESS
  26. 1
  27. 2
  28. 3
  29. ALERT
  30. 1
  31. 2
  32. 3
  33. 4
  34. 5
  35. ENCOUNTER
  36. 1
  37. 2
  38. 3
  39. 4
  40. 5
  41. 6
  42. HAVOC
  43. 1
  44. 2
  45. 3
  46. 4
  47. 5
  48. 6
  49. SEARCH
  50. 1
  51. 2
  52. 3
  53. 4
  54. 5
  55. CLASH
  56. 1
  57. 2
  58. 3
  59. 4
  60. 5
  61. 6
  62. 7
  63. COUNTERATTACK
  64. 1
  65. 2
  66. 3
  67. 4
  68. 5
  69. 6
  70. 7
  71. VICTORY
  72. 1
  73. 2
  74. 3
  75. 4
  76. 5
  77. 6
  78. 7
  79. 8
  80. 9
  81. EPILOGUE
  82. About the Author

Hubbard aimed his flashlight at the earth. The lingering smoke of the forest fire and the darkness of the sky above made it hard to see clearly, but the outlines of a depression were visible. Elizabeth was right. The trench would never have been noticed before the fire because leaves would have filled it in. The scientist knelt quickly. This could be a major insect trail, possibly leading to a nest! He brushed leaves away with an impatient gloved hand. He came upright with an exclamation and held his find high for the others to share. He was holding a handful of broken cockroach shells. They were charred but had not burned completely. He said grimly, “The roaches were definitely along this way!”

He called the others at once. They joined forces to follow the trail now clear on the forest floor. Spirits rose. They might be getting somewhere at last! The column of pursuers moved faster despite the awkwardness of their protective dress.

3

THREE

Amos Tarbell moved up alongside Peter Hubbard. “I suppose we can burn them out once and for all . . . ?”

“Let’s find them first.”

Tarbell said, “But we ought to go back for gasoline, kerosene now . . . ?”

Johnson overheard and intervened. “Amos, you aren’t thinking. These woods are still hot. You’d blow us all to hell.”

Hubbard counseled the sheriff. “Amos, there’ll be time. If I’m right, those cockroaches are so scared they aren’t going to move out of their nest for days.”

The sheriff was insistent. “Craig and Ben have the dry ice with us. We have the flares. We could freeze them or fry them right now!” He let his imagination jump ahead, overlooking the fact that they had not yet even found a roach retreat. He wanted to see the insects burn, freeze, go up in smoke, melt in a great combustion of death. He hoped they would make noises, squeal or shriek or whistle in agony. It would help drown the cries of the children he kept imagining in his head.

Wanda Lindstrom said to the sheriff patiently, “We talked about this before. If I’m right about the way they cluster, fire would get only the top layers. Most of the brood would get clean away.”

The man’s anger would not let him rest. “We’d have them trapped, wouldn’t we?” he argued.

“No,” she told him, with an edge of impatience. “They would have many tunnels in and out. We would only defeat our own purpose!”

Peter Hubbard confirmed, “There would be too many left. I did think of gasoline, of course, but it’s far too dangerous today, and wouldn’t do the job anyway . . .”

The sheriff remained upset. “Then what did we bring all this stuff for?”

“For protection!” Elias Johnson was irritated. “Now quit fussing, Amos. This isn’t easy for anybody . . .”