II
The calls just kept coming in. Sergeant Allen could barely keep his hand off of the receiver. Each call was the same, though the voices on the other line were growing progressively more frantic. The story they were all telling was one Allen could hardly believe.
"What the hell is going on?" Deputy Stone asked, rubbing his eyes from the nap that the phones had interrupted him from.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," the sergeant replied.
"Try me," Stone said with a yawn.
"I've got multiple reports of giant insects attacking a neighborhood on the north side of town," Allen replied, rubbing his hands slowly down his face.
"Giant..what?"
"At least two of them described them as crickets but the size of an alligator. Say they just came out of the ground. Most have fifteen deaths already."
"You are shitting me, right?"
The phone rang again, and the sergeant answered it immediately. Stone could hear the frantic voice on the other line screaming about creatures he only thought existed in science fiction movies. Allen tried his best to reassure the person, but in the face of giant killer insects, there was little in the way of comfort. Allen put the phone back on the receiver and unplugged the cable from the back.
"What are you doing that for?" Stone asked in surprise.
"Ain't doing me no good sitting here answering the phone. Let's go look for ourselves."
"You want to go do what?"
"I wanna know if some jackass put PCP in the water supply or if there really are a bunch of giant fucking crickets crawling up from the ground and attacking folks."
"Well, let's ride then," Stone replied.
The two policemen took Allen's cruiser and raced off toward the north side of town. Coleman, Florida, was a tiny principality located in the middle of the vastness of the Green Swamp, sparsely populated by those who are not incarcerated in the state penitentiary and crumbling to ruin due to its abject poverty. Though it was close to both the turnpike and the interstate, Coleman seemed a relic of old Florida, where crackers would spend their days on their elevated front porches drinking juleps and telling tall tales. The north side was the newest section, home to a vast new development of cookie-cutter houses and, currently, an invasion of giant insects.
As the two deputies approached Greenwood Estates, they could hear the chirping. For those born in the swamp lands of central and southern Florida, the sound of cricket chirping is common. Far from civilization, like those who live in the swamp, one can be privy to deafening symphonies of cricket chirping. It was as common a sound as the bullfrog and blue jay. Both Allen and Stone were Florida-born and bred and were well accustomed to the sound of crickets chirping. What they heard as they grew near the housing development was not like the chirping of common crickets or even the locusts that came from time to time. This was higher pitched and more sinister. The two deputies could tell these were not innocuous creatures. As they neared the large concrete wall that encircled the development, they both noticed the chirping was neither farther nor nearer.
"Where's the entrance to this place?" Allen asked, squinting through sunbeams that pierced the windshield.
"You're not actually thinking of going in there?" Stone replied, his face ashen.
"You took an oath to protect and serve, didn't you?" Allen shouted angrily.
"That oath ain't say nothin' 'bout no monsters!"
"There's a first time for everything."
They circled around until they found the front gates. The guard shack was deserted, and the gates were broken open. Through them, the two deputies could see nothing but the churned-up ground. Allen slowed the cruiser to a crawl and entered the neighborhood.
"I hope you have a plan," Stone said, his hands gripping the seat tightly.
"I don't," Allen replied as they crossed the gate's threshold.
It was dead quiet, not a soul to be seen. The ground around them in all directions was churned up, with large holes dotting every yard. The houses were riddled with broken windows and doors, missing roof shingles, and superficial surface damage. Most troubling of all were the muddy prints crisscrossing the road and sidewalks.
As they got deeper into the neighborhood, they realized the chirping had receded.
"Where the hell are they?" Allen said.
They turned a corner and found their first corpse. From the cruiser, they could gather very little about the mangled body, except that it had once been a person. Now, it was a messy streak of gore leading from a garage to the street.
"I think I'm gonna be sick," Stone said, covering his mouth with his hand.
"We've gotta check these houses," Allen said, ignoring Stone's weak stomach.
"Are you crazy?!" Stone shouted.
"We have to check for survivors."
"What survivors? There's no one left!"
"Nut up, Stone. Let's go."
Allen pulled the cruiser up to the house next door to the gore-stained driveway. He put the car in park and grabbed his shotgun, checking to see if it was loaded. Stone did the same with his service pistol.
"Let's start here," Allen said. "You ready?"
"No," Stone replied lightly.
They exited the cruiser in unison and slowly made their way up the driveway towards the open front door. Stone could not keep his eyes off the corpse next door. In his four years with the force, he had never beheld such an evisceration before. He wondered what could possibly do such a thing.
"Get your head in the game!" Allen barked, smacking Stone in the back of the head.
They walked through the front door and entered a typical upper-middle-class cookie-cutter home. There were immaculate shelves with expensive knick-knacks and high-quality art prints on the wall that showed little to no imagination. There were couches that were never sat on, fluffed with pillows never slept upon, and a kitchen full of sparkling dinner wear. Past the foyer and living room was a polished staircase leading to a recessed loft and second-story patio. It took a moment before they realized that a decapitated head was sitting at the foot of the stairs. Much of the upper cranium was missing, along with some of the face, though strands of the long blonde hair still remained. The neck and some of the shoulder were still attached, allowing the head to stand propped upright like a grisly totem.
"It's a goddamn massacre," Stone mumbled as he approached the head. "What do we do?"
As Stone spoke, the two men heard a rustling that quickly turned into a cautious clicking on the hardwood floor. From their vantage point, they could see nothing in the loft. Allen silently raised his arm to signal Stone to be ready.
"Is anyone up there?" Allen said, his voice echoing in the silent house.
The clicking stopped for a moment before the chirping began. The officers saw the antenna before they saw the creature race to the top of the stairs. Stone and Allen stood before the giant insect in astonishment. It was about four feet long and, just as reports had suggested, resembled a cricket. For a moment, the creature's black eyes stared back at them before it launched toward them at full speed, scurrying quickly down the stairs.
"Shit!" Stone screamed before unloading on the insect with his pistol.
The bullets thudded into its hard exoskeleton but did nothing to slow it down.
"Run!" Allen shouted before letting off a wildly inaccurate shot from his shotgun.
They bolted out of the front of the house and towards the open doors of the waiting cruiser, the creature hot on their tails. Allen reached the car first and jumped into the driver's seat, slamming the door shut. Stone got close to the passenger side, but the insect was too quick. Its enlarged mandibles clamped down on his leg, slicing through the skin and bone with ease. Stone felt his leg fall away and tripped into the side of the car, slamming his door in the process. Allen could only watch in horror as the massive insect tore into Stone, his pitiful screams muffled under its terrible mass.
After a few moments of frozen shock, Allen felt anger flooding through him. Thinking fast, he threw the cruiser into reverse and sped backward about twenty yards. The creature turned from Stone to look at the vehicle, its mandibles dripping with the deputy's flesh. Allen slammed the car into drive and punched the gas. The insect had little time to react before Allen slammed into it head-on, running it over in the process. The creature screeched as the mass of the police car crushed its exoskeleton.
Allen looked back and saw it trying to get back on its feet.
"Not today," Allen screamed before tossing the cruiser into reverse and crashing into the creature again.
The giant insect screeched once more, tumbling into a heap on the road. Allen parked the cruiser and grabbed the shotgun, refilling the chamber with two fresh shells. He stepped out and approached the broken behemoth. He raised the gun to its bulbous head and unloaded. The blast echoed through the neighborhood, putting the proper exclamation point on the execution.
Silence came back, thick and ominous. Allen looked around him with solemn resignation. Before then, he had plausible deniability. Now, he had to face a threat he could barely fathom, let alone take on. He got back in the cruiser and leaned his head back.
That's when he heard shouts.
They sounded like a woman. He opened the door again and peeked his head out. It was definitely a woman, and she was shouting for help.