Bite Me Spider: An Eight-Legged Nightmare Read online

  “This is Spider Rider heading South on Interstate 95. Looking for Bigsby. Over!”

  The only response was a wave of static.

  James at this point was more or less playing around. He would guess that neither Bigsby nor anybody else could hear him.

  He pressed the button down on the mouthpiece again. “Spider Rider looking for Big Apple Bigsby. Come in Bigsby. Over!”

  There was another stretch of unpleasant static and then a loud voice came cutting through the noise.

  “Big Apple Bigsby here! Who am I talking to? Over!”

  Hope leaped up in James’ chest. He smiled and pressed the button on the mouthpiece.

  “Bigsby! Boy am I ever glad to hear your voice. This is James Dresden. We’ve spoken a few times before. Over!”

  The voice came back even stronger. “Oh hey there James. Of course I remember you. Did I catch you correctly? Are you coming down 95 South? Over!”

  James nodded even though Bigsby wasn’t there to see the gesture. “That’s right, Buddy. Coming all the way down from Boston. I want to try out one of those special spiders you keep talking about. The blue one with the black cross on its back. Over!”

  There was a second of lag time and then Bigsby’s voice came back on. “Oh right! Yes, there are plenty of ‘em down here. They’re good eating too. Extremely benevolent. And easy to catch!”

  “And those are the ones that can cure cancer, right? Over!”

  “You got it, Buddy,” Bigsby said with jocular familiarity. “That’s the rumor at least. Why do you ask? Are you afflicted with that disease? Over!”

  James wanted to be careful about how much information he gave over a public system. The chances were that no one with a UHF radio was listening, but he couldn’t be too sure.

  “Let’s just say I have a reason to look into the matter further,” James said. “I can tell you more about that when we finally meet up. By the way, how can I find you? Over!”

  “I’m located in Queens, on top of the Citibank Building. In Long Island City, specifically. Not too far from the East River. Over!”

  James thought this was odd also. All the time he’d spoken with Bigsby he got the impression that the man was right inside Manhattan. That’s what most people mean when they say NYC. Yes, Queens was technically a borough of New York City, but it still felt a little disingenuous. But again, he waved the thought away. The truth is that he had bigger fish to fry.

  “I know just where that is,” James spoke back into his mouthpiece. “As a matter of fact, I can even see it from here. Over!”

  This was true. The Citibank Building was one of the tallest buildings in Queens. He could see it on the horizon, sticking up like an accusing finger at the sky. He was glad he’d gotten in touch with Bigsby when they did or they would have made the arduous trek into Manhattan for nothing. As things stood, he would get off the highway at the next exit and then ride the giant spider down Queens Boulevard towards the Citibank Building. Even if they got lost – which was certainly easy to do in a world without GPS systems – they could always see the Citibank Building, due to it being taller than any other building in its vicinity.

  “About how long do you think it’ll take you to get here? Over!”

  James heard Bigsby’s question, but wasn’t sure how to answer. After all, it was hard to tell with the city landscape being so complicated. He was in the process of making an estimate, when Bigsby came back over the radio.

  “The reason I ask is because I’m up on the roof and it takes a while to get downstairs. The elevator doesn’t work anymore, that’s for sure. Over!”

  James smiled as he recalled how their spider had crawled straight up the side of the ravine. He pressed the button to speak.

  “Don’t worry about coming down to us! We’ll come up to you! Over!” he gave a little chuckle.

  “What!?! Are you crazy? I better come down, to make sure you get up here alright. Over!”

  James kept chuckling. He knew it was wrong to fuck with Bigsby, especially in a world where so much had gone awry, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to keep the New Yorker on his toes. It was a way of keeping his own good sense of humor intact, and his spirits up.

  “See you in a little bit! Over!” James said without further explanation and signed off for good. Instead of turning off the radio, however, he decided to leave it on. Who knows, he thought, they might pick up another signal. And even the sound of static was comforting in a weird sort of way.

  But as James and Carol ambled along on the back of the spider, something peculiar happened. A voice emerged from the static.

  “Turn that up, would you honey?” James asked.

  Carol turned the radio up high. The voice that came on next was a pleasant surprise.

  “Dear Citizens of the United States. This is President Atticus Balthazar…”

  James was so interested in hearing what the president had to say that he pulled the spider over and held it still.

  “I am addressing you as your leader in this time of great travail. I know that the current challenge that faces our great country has not been easy for all of us to meet. There are the sick, the elderly, the despondent, the useless, the meek, the weak, and the lazy. Among the citizenry there are both great men and great women. But there are also losers and lowlifes. Scumbags and heathens. It is the multifarious tapestry of humanity that makes our country so special…”

  Once again, James had to admit that something about the president’s voice was off. It was as if he had a cold, but there was also something amiss in his pacing, in the way he delivered his thoughts, and truthfully in the thoughts themselves. James was a tad bit disappointed, if he were to be honest. But even so, he continued to listen.

  “And so, dear citizenry of this United States of America, I expect you all, each and every one of you, to follow my advice to the very letter. I expect you all to take your middle finger and wedge it deeply in your anus. Twice as deep as the last time…”

  “Turn it off, Carol.”

  “But Daddy, I want to hear what the president says…” his daughter whined.

  “No, dear. Not today. The president isn’t feeling well.”

  James didn’t know what else to say. He only knew that something was severely wrong with the leader of their country and he didn’t want his daughter listening to such hogwash.

  Using the knife in the spider’s head, he activated their steed and drove it onward, into the heart of Queens, New York.

  As the fisherman and his daughter drove the giant spider through the empty streets they passed piles of rotting corpses. These made an awful sight to be sure, and James wished he could somehow shield his daughter from seeing the grotesque spectacle. But the fact was that the entire landscape – and maybe even the entire world – had been turned into a place of nightmares. If he were to truly shield Carol’s eyes from the gruesome reality, it would mean keeping her permanently blind. And that of course was not an option. He wanted his daughter to be ready to handle herself in this dangerous new environment. After all, the day would eventually come when he wouldn’t be around. He’d hope that by that time Carol had become an adult and had found a husband who could protect her. But even with a husband at her side, the world of the spider apocalypse demanded that everyone be brave and pull their own weight. The weak, putting it bluntly, would not survive. With all this in mind, he didn’t shield his daughter’s eyes as they threaded their way through the chaos.

  Along the way, they passed a few grocery stores and bodegas. James knew that there would be food inside these places, but he was eager to get to Bigsby’s hideout. Besides, he figured the colorful character would have some supplies and rations he could share. And so they kept on.

  As they drew closer to the towering Citibank building, James pressed the knife in the spider’s head further forward, to make it pick up its pace a bit. Even though James was wary of the strange beast whose back they rode upon, he had to admit that it proved itself to be a very useful ve
hicle. And he knew, also, that it would be ideal for the sort of terrain they would soon be travelling.

  “Are you ready for a fun little ride?” he asked his daughter.

  “Yeah!”

  He was always amazed that Carol could maintain her high spirits, even in times as desperate as these. He could really learn something from her, he thought.

  “Okay, do me a favor darling, and get the rope out of your backpack.”

  Carol did just as he asked. She unzipped her One Direction backpack and rummaged around the numerous supplies that it contained, finally coming up with a heap of coiled rope.

  James pulled back on the knife in the spider’s head to bring the beast to a halt.

  “Hand me that rope, sweetheart.”

  He took the rope and hopped off the spider’s back. The beast remained docile and didn’t try to attack him.

  “We’re going to go for a vertical ride up the side of that building,” James said to his daughter and indicated the Citibank Building with a nod of his head.

  “Yay!”

  “But before we do, I want to make sure that you and I are both strapped in tight, so we don’t fall off Mister Spider here…”

  “Okay, Daddy.” It was obvious that Carol understood the plan.

  James tossed one end of the rope over the spider’s back and secured it around its mid-section. The way the spider was formed – with a fat belly but a thin torso – was perfect for this kind of maneuver. The rope could go around it easily. He put the rope over Carol’s middle, in the manner of a seat belt, and then secured the rope with a gently-tied knot, that was tight enough to hold them in place but which could open unraveled with a sharp tug. Once he had Carol secured, he tossed another loop over the beast’s back and left enough slack for him to secure himself in the same way. Then he hopped back on top of the spider and tied the knot, in essence buckling himself in with their makeshift seatbelt.

  “Okay sweetheart! Here we go!”

  Carol clapped in excitement. James was glad his daughter had such an adventurous soul. It made surviving in the spider apocalypse much easier.

  He pushed the knife in the spider’s head forward until the spider was ambling along at a rapid pace. He didn’t want to push the beast too hard and tire it out. But it seemed to be going strong. At some point, James reflected, he would have to feed the beast, especially if he intended to ride it back to the lighthouse when they were done with their mission, but he would address that issue down the road a ways.

  As they approached the Citibank Building, the sun was on the opposite side of the edifice, so that a colossal shadow was cast across their faces. James wanted to be able to see as clearly as possible, so he directed the spider around to the sunny side of the building. Then he pressed the knife forward all the way. The spider charged ahead and then, rather than crash headfirst into the glass, it began to climb up the sheer side of the building.

  The experience was exciting to say the least. The spider’s sticky legs were designed for precisely this kind of action and their progress up the side of the building was exceedingly smooth. In fact, it was a smoother ride than when they drove the spider over the cracked pavement below. The important thing was for James and Carol to hold on tight.

  “How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked his daughter.

  “Great!” she shouted back, happy to be riding a spider straight up into the sky.

  Chapter 32

  Hannah and her baby boy were safe, at least for the moment. As fate would have it, right by the portal was what appeared to be an extremely heavy wooden chest. It was the kind of chest that pirates store their treasure in, she thought to herself. Although the idea of moving such a heavy chest would normally strike her as extremely unpleasant – doubly so while she was healing from childbirth – she was grateful that the chest was available, as it would provide an added layer of protection from the horde of evil critters below.

  With Ben still swinging from the makeshift pouch around her chest, Hannah tugged on the chest and pulled it over, inch by agonizing inch. The chest was just light enough for her to move with a concerted effort, and just heavy enough – she hoped! – to keep a trapdoor from popping open from the mass of spiders beneath. Ben gurgled and mewed as she dragged the chest over. When it was finally in place she wiped the sweat from her forehead and let out a long sigh.

  After she caught her breath, she looked around the room. It was extremely quaint and decorated in the style favored by older couples. She noticed that there was porthole window, but the cover for the window was already closed and screwed tight. She reached over and turned on a little lamp with a pink lampshade. The light from the lamp was meager but enough to see by.

  The ladder in the room led to another trapdoor in the ceiling. Through this open portal Hannah could see the room with the actual light house light inside it. The top of the light house was surrounded on all sides by glass panels and the light itself could be spun around and shone in any direction. At least that is what she gathered from looking up at it from down below. The important thing was that there weren’t any spiders in the upper compartment.

  This was a legitimate worry, as the spiders outside could easily climb up the sides of the lighthouse and get into the room at the top, if they wanted. Hannah realized that both she and Ben were lucky that the spiders hadn’t thought of it. They were smart creatures, she realized, but not quite smart enough.

  Just to be safe, she climbed up the ladder a few rungs, reached up into the fourth story room and grabbed the trapdoor handle, pulling it down and making sure it was sealed tight. Now they were sealed away, for better or for worse, in the third story room. Hannah prayed that the spiders would retreat sometime soon. For even if James and Carol came back to save her, they would be eaten by the spiders. But Hannah didn’t want to think about that.

  Having sealed both trapdoors, Hannah decided to make herself and the baby comfortable. She looked around and saw that there was a bean bag chair for her to sit in. Next to the bean bag was a little bookshelf.

  Hannah kept Ben cradled in her little pouch as she ambled across the room and sat down in the bean bag. It was hard for her to crouch so low, but it was better than sitting on the floor. “What do you say, my dear?” she looked down and asked Ben rhetorically. “Are you ready for a bedtime story?”

  Ben made a mewling gurgling sound, which she took as an affirmative.

  She turned to the bookcase. There were only three books on the shelves, an RV owner’s manual, a phonebook, and a children’s book. Hannah reached over and grabbed the children’s book, which was the obvious selection.

  “What do we have here?” she asked, turning the cover upward. “Old Fashioned Nursery Rhymes.” She said the title aloud for Ben’s benefit. “This sounds like the perfect thing for us to read…”

  As she opened the book’s thick cover, she reflected that this was the very first time she was reading to her son. She thought it was very fitting that she should be reading nursery rhymes in Bill and Sonja’s lighthouse. She sighed lightly and hoped that she and James would one day be an older couple together and reading nursery rhymes to their own grandchildren.

  She turned to the inside cover and saw an inscription: “For Dylan on his 5th birthday.” This was followed by a date that was some twenty years in the past. There were crayon scribbles inside the cover as well, which Hannah would bet anything came from young Dylan. Rather than look through the table of contents, Hannah decided to open the book in the middle and choose a nursery rhyme at random. She flipped through the pages and put her finger between two pages without looking. Then she opened the book and looked at the rhyme that she had selected.

  “Little Miss Muffet,”

  As she said the words she felt her heart sink in her chest.

  Why in the world did she have to pick that one? She looked down at little Ben. The baby was gurgling and mewling happily. Certainly he didn’t mind what nursery rhyme she read. He wouldn’t even hear the story. He would jus
t hear the sound of his mother’s voice. The only person who could understand the story was her. And what did she have to be afraid of? It was, after all, just a story. She shook her head as she considered how irrational she was being and started to read the nursery rhyme aloud.

  “Little Miss Muffet.”

  “Sat on a tuffet.”

  “Eating her curds and whey.”

  As it was a “picture book,” there was a painted illustration on the opposite page. Hannah looked at this illustration before turning the page and reading the rest of the nursey rhyme. With a tiny jolt she noticed that the illustration of Little Miss Muffet bore a slight resemblance to herself. Well, at least she had the same color hair and eyes. And what’s more, Miss Muffet was sitting on a pillow – or a tuffet, rather – that looked just like the bean bag that she was sitting on, a fact which Hannah found very odd.

  Hannah turned the page and instantly regretted it.

  “Along came a spider…”

  As Hannah read the words she couldn’t keep a quiver from creeping into her voice.

  “Who sat down beside her…”

  Now even Ben had picked up on Hannah’s fear and was starting to fidget.

  “And frightened Miss Muffet away.”

  Hannah could feel a panic attack coming on. It was therefore with great apprehension that she looked at the illustration that accompanied the last half of the nursey rhyme.

  The painted character of Miss Muffet was in the act of jumping up from the pillow she sat on. Her bowl of curds and whey was overturned and spilling its contents through the air. And she, the character of Miss Muffet, was painted in the act of screaming. Her mouth was a round hole that took up half her face.

  But this wasn’t the worst of it. The worst part of the illustration was the spider itself. For some reason the illustrator had chosen to give the beast a tall black top hat, a cane, which it carried in one of its eight hands, and a black umbrella, which it carried in another one of its eight hands.