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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

She stepped to the railing—what people still called the “running rigging,” she didn’t know why. She took care not to lean; the old railing would give way easily, she saw. If she dropped from this height, it would be broken bones and certain disaster. The cockroach mass would be over her before she could breathe. She could see the insects below like a viscous preternatural mucilage pasting heaps of leaves around the base of the house. The roaches were climbing up the walls, climbing slowly but without pause, up and up and up to the window ledges where some entered the rooms below but more kept climbing directly to the roof, as if they knew she was up on the widow walk, trapped, no way to fend them off, no way to stop them, no way to escape except to jump to her death to them, to the waiting mouths on the ground.

Elizabeth wailed aloud for her life. Her chin dropped to her chest in a physical acknowledgement of utter, visceral defeat. Now she wished only that she had a weapon to kill herself, to be spared the torture of being taken by the insects and eaten alive. Her horror enclosed the whole space of her life; it came to her that there was another meaning to “the fourth dimension.” In addition to time and space there was a dimension of terror, a world of its own, for dying in.

Miraculously, the woman’s wailing moan was answered by the sound of men’s laughter. Around the curve of High Ridge Road rolled the Hook & Ladder truck. The men had been joking among themselves Elizabeth saw through her tears but they cracked-­jumped to attention at her fierce scream for help.

8

EIGHT

The truck motor roared like an angry beast and the tires smoked as the heavy engine swerved into the Cannon driveway. In another instant, the company was stamping over the lawn at Peter Hubbard’s direction, squirting dry ice everywhere. Without waiting, other men were setting the truck’s hydraulic system to raise the aerial ladder toward the building. Their procedure was fast, every move precise; they were trained for pressure and emergency.

Elizabeth saw roaches squeezing under the crack in the roof door. She cried out for the firemen to hurry, but there was trouble maneuvering the ladder on the uneven grade of the lawn. It was taking time to adjust the hydraulic jacks that leveled the truck. Peter Hubbard was standing beside the fire engine looking up at Elizabeth. His face was livid with disbelief and self-­fury.