BooksBarbecue
Back The Nest
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

Elizabeth’s thoughts started to jump erratically. Part of her mind refused to accept what was happening—told her she was asleep in the safe Johnson house, dreaming out the nightmare of the past days. Part of her brain was crying out to Peter Hubbard, ironically damning the human limitations that provided her with speech instead of insect pheromones that could reach him over miles! Where was man’s much-­vaunted superiority!

The woman took hold of herself, forced herself to concentrate. The roach odor and the sounds of the killers scratching outside were making her panic, but she had to gather her wits, she scolded herself. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth Carr hurried on through the kitchen. She noticed with wry surprise that even in her desperate state she loved the friendly smell of Hildie Cannon’s crushed herbs on the floor. She was thankful for the momentary respite from the stench of the cockroaches.

The woman raced upstairs, only to see that one platoon of the insects was already climbing up the shingles outside. As had happened at the lighthouse, they were coating the side of the house brown like a huge living paintbrush—a crazy, upside-­down painting of the walls with a living brush of cockroaches!

Elizabeth ran on in blind flight rather than by directed effort. If no room was safe, what did it matter? Wherever she turned, she was only postponing the inevitable. She searched for a weapon, anything. What could she use to stave them off? The iron poker beside the bedroom fireplace? Laughable, a mockery! If only this adversary were large enough to strike at! Elizabeth did not know that other victims had wished the same thing, wanting to grapple, to collide physically with the attacker, wishing it were a wild dog, a wolf. What, she moaned like the others who had been besieged, what could she do against the thousand, the million ravening insects coming after her blood?

She saw no fire extinguisher. She spotted a can of insect spray on the dresser. Laughable, indeed! One measly can against the oncoming drove?

There was no way to blockade herself, no device to keep them off. To her horror, she saw the moving shadows on the window turn from what she had hoped were leaves into roach bodies. The hissing and clicking, the wheezing and puffing of the insects were loud with closing menace now. She searched wildly for a hiding place. There was none. No room was safe from them, no door could keep them out. She could only run, much good that would do!