'Nids Part 10

Twenty-Two.

Maxine Pruitt sighed as her fat, sweaty, whiskey-reeking husband rolled off her with a sound like a knife slicing through cold ham.

Harvey flopped onto his back and belched, scratched his belly. He'd be asleep in two minutes.

Dudley a or "Duds," as Harve called him a barked out in the back yard. He was some kind of shepherd mix, a mutt, really, but loveable. He also had an annoying bark.

Maxine lay there with her legs still spread, Harve's mess between them. She usually took a shower afterward. She used to shower and m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e, but that had become too much work, and seemed rather pointless, really. Besides, she could m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e anytime a why would she do it after lying beneath Harve for a few smelly minutes?

Harve snored. He sounded like someone was torturing zoo animals. She'd told him several times that he probably had sleep apnea and he should see a doctor about it, but he never listened to her.

Maxine sat up on the edge of the bed, sighed again, then told herself to stop sighing. She stood and put on Harve's old robe, a tent of burgundy velour. She liked the way it engulfed her.

She left the bedroom in bare feet, padded down the dark hall to the bathroom and took a quick shower. She dried off, put the robe back on, and went down the hall to her daughter's room. The soft blue glow of Dana's Harry Potter nightlight fell into the hall. Five-year-old Dana didn't like to sleep with the door closed, so Maxine always left it open at night. She went to her daughter's bedside.

Dana was lying on her side with her back to the door. She made a soft little snoring sound that made Maxine smile.

Dudley still barked out back. She wondered, had he been barking all this time and she'd been too preoccupied to notice? Probably a neighborhood cat. But Dudley seldom barked at anything for long.

She went down the hall to the kitchen. She wanted something to drink, but wasn't sure what. Tea? Wine? She didn't drink often a watching Harve get drunk every night had turned her off of liquor, for the most part. But a gla.s.s of wine sounded good right about now. It sounded civilized, especially compared to Harve's swilling.

They'd talked about his drinking problem, and it always ended with him saying, "I've got it under control."

She'd seen him shake in the morning. She knew he started early, after she left for work. That was why she took Dana over to her sister's house each day. Barbara had two kids of her own, Tommy and Denise, and the girls were the same age. They enjoyed playing together. Barbara's husband James had a good job with UPS, a job he valued and worked hard to keep.

Harve once had a good job at Merriweather's Feed. That didn't sound like much, but he'd made manager, and the feed store was owned by Ozzie Merriweather, a wealthy old man who believed in taking good care of his employees, providing benefits and retirement plans. It was a coveted job from Hope Valley to Ridgeton, but openings were few. Once you worked for Merriweather, you hung onto that job with all you were worth. The only reason Harve had made manager was that the guy who'd managed him had died, and Harve had been there the longest of the low-level employees. It was a huge feed store that serviced ranchers farmers throughout the entire county.

Harve had been caught drinking. He'd been warned. Old man Merriweather himself had a talk with Harve and had offered to get him treatment. Harve had insisted he didn't need it. He'd become so obstinate that the old man had fired him then and there.

Maxine opened the bottle of two-dollar wine she'd bought some weeks ago with the thought that a gla.s.s or two now and then would be nice. She poured the white wine into a cheap winegla.s.s from a set they had in the cupboard and never used.

She left the kitchen. It opened on a tiny corner dining area with a small oval table and four chairs. She and Dana stills ate meals at the table, but Harve always ate in front of the television. The dining area opened was connected to the living room. She went there, put her winegla.s.s on an end table, and flopped onto the couch. She turned on the TV with the remote and flipped through the channels. She didn't know how much longer they'd be able to afford cable. Harve would be devastated, of course. Maybe he'd get off his a.s.s and do something if he didn't have television to watch.

Dudley was still barking. If he didn't stop soon, she'd go out and tell him to shut up. All she needed to do was p.i.s.s off one of the neighbors she hardly knew.

Maxine knew she should be sleeping. She worked two jobs a eight hours a day waiting tables at the twenty-four-hour Oven Mitt Cafe next to the truck stop, then she cleaned several houses over in Wooded Acres once or twice a week.

Harve still clung to the lie that he was looking for work. Half the time, Harve couldn't look for his d.i.c.k. The rutting she'd endured tonight was rare, and getting rarer.

She remembered the early years of their marriage, when he was still slender and muscular, back when they couldn't keep their hands off each other. It seemed a lifetime ago, almost like something she remembered from a book she'd read. It wasn't quite real enough to miss anymore.

Maxine preferred to stay in shape. Even though Harve never noticed, she still looked good. She still jogged whenever she had the chance and still got admiring looks from the bagboys at the grocery store, which made her feel pretty d.a.m.ned good.

Maxine lived for Dana. They'd been married ten years when they'd had Dana, and Maxine had seen the way the wind was blowing then. She'd never given but the most cursory thought to getting out. Maxine and her parents, and Harve and his parents, were all very Catholic. Divorce was not an option. Neither of their parents would approve of a divorce. Harve had stopped going to church with her years ago, something the parents on both sides complained about a lot.

Dudley continued to bark. Maxine decided to ignore it for the moment. She was enjoying her wine.

Twenty-Three.

Rodney paced his bedroom with the radio on, tuned to the local news-talk station, as he talked quietly with Heidi on the the phone.

"They're talking about s.p.a.ce aliens on the radio," Rodney said.

"You're kidding."

"No, really. There's this guy who says he knows a guy in some other country who's been in touch with aliens called Pladians, or something, for years."

She laughed quietly. "Do you believe him?"

Rodney thought about that. "You know, after tonight, after what we saw ... it's hard not to wonder what else is out there."

After a long pause, she said, "Yeah, I know what you mean. I had a hard time believing it while I was seeing it."

"Me, too. It's almost as if a "

The doorbell rang.

"Whoa," he said, "somebody's at the door. Hang on." He left his room and hurried down the hall before the bell rang again. He didn't want to disturb his parents. He looked out the peephole. "It's Sheriff Harker, and he's got a shotgun." He opened the door. "Hi, Sheriff."

"Sorry to bother you so late," Harker said.

"No problem. Come in." Rodney stepped aside, the phone still to his ear, then closed the door behind Sheriff Harker.

"I need to talk to your brother."

"My brother?"

"You said he was a ... spider geek?"

"Yeah."

"I need to know as much as I can about the sun spider. Can I see him?"

Down the hall, Rodney saw light under Harry's bedroom door. He walked in without knocking and found Harry at his desk watching Kingdom of the Spiders.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Rodney said.

"With a giant spider loose? I'm all psyched!"

"Be quiet, I don't wanna wake Mom and Dad. Sheriff Harker's here, he wants to talk to you."

"Sheriff wants to talkta me?" Harry's eyebrows rose above the rims of his gla.s.ses.

"Yeah, come on."

Rodney led him back up the hall. Harker had turned on a lamp in the living room and sat on the edge of Dad's club chair, the shotgun across his lap. He stood when they walked in and held the shotgun with the barrel down.

"Harry?" he said. "I need to ask you some questions."

"About the spider?" Harry said with undisguised excitement.

"Yes. About the spider. I need to know how to kill it."

Harry nodded at the shotgun. "That'd prob'ly do it. It's big, but I'm a.s.suming it's not indestructible. A shotgun should kill it."

Harker nodded. "Okay. Then how do I lure it?"

Harry looked at Rodney, then at Harker. "I dunno. Far as I know, there's no way to lure a sun spider. Sun spiders pretty much go wherever they want and eat whatever they want to eat. They're mean and p.i.s.sed off."

Harker nodded again, but wearily this time, clearly disappointed and frustrated. "Okay. Okay." He stood. "Anything you can think of that I should know?"

"Don't try to outrun it," Harry said. "Kill it as soon as you see it. It moves so fast, you'll be lucky to get off a shot."

"Thanks, Harry," Sheriff Harker said.

"What the h.e.l.l's going on?" Dad said.

Rodney turned around and saw his dad standing in the hall in his boxers.

Oh, s.h.i.t, Rodney thought. He said, "Dad. Uh, the sheriff's here."

"I can see that," Dad said. "What's the problem?"

Harker said, "Sorry to disturb you, sir. I came to talk to your son. He knows a lot about spiders, and right now, I've got a great big spider running around killing people."

"A ... spider?" Dad said.

"Your sons will tell you about it," Harker said. "I've gotta go. You folks stay inside at all times. Keep all your windows and doors closed and locked."

"A spider?" Dad said again.

Harker went to the door, then turned back to Dad. "Listen to your sons. They're telling you the truth." He left.

Dad turned to the boys, his mouth open, eyes sleepy. "What's going on? And how did you guys get involved."

Rodney took a deep breath. "Come in and sit down, Dad. I'll tell you everything."

Twenty-Four.

Maxine dozed a little on the sofa as she watched one of the shopping channels. The jewelry shows were her favorite.

Dudley was still barking.

She rubbed her eyes and got up, went back to the kitchen. She stood at the sliding gla.s.s door that led out to the back yard.

Dudley yelped a couple times, then cried out. The dog's cry was cut short.

Maxine stopped breathing a moment and listened. She could see nothing through the gla.s.s door with the kitchen light on.

"Dudley?" she whispered.

Her breath trembled as she exhaled. She turned and opened the drawer at the end of the counter. From the mess of candles, matches, rubber bands, paperclips and pens, she removed a twelve-inch red flashlight. She turned it on and slid the gla.s.s door aside.

As she stepped out onto the small concrete patio, she heard ... something. She crossed the patio to the gra.s.s, which was cold and damp beneath her bare feet, and raised the flashlight. She sent the beam into the back corner of the yard.

Slurping, that was what she heard. Sucking and slurping.

An alarm went off in the back of her mind, and her chest felt tight.

"Dudley?" she said.

Maxine pa.s.sed the flashlight to the left, across the back fence, and it landed on something that was moving, something big with a lot of legs, and it was on Dudley, who lay still on the gra.s.s. It was moving on top of Dudley, this thing, and made those sounds, those horrible slurping and sucking sounds, and a a it stopped.

Maxine's heart beat so hard, it prodded the backs of her eyeb.a.l.l.s. She swallowed a whimper as she backed up, heading for the open sliding door.

It turned around. Big glistening black things moved on its face.

"Oh, s.h.i.t," Maxine said as she turned and ran through the open door. She spun around, slid it closed and locked it as something slammed into it hard enough to spread a web of cracks through the gla.s.s.

She screamed as she threw herself backward and fell on her a.s.s. The thing on the other side of the door watched her. That whimpering sound made its way out of her because the thing had Dudley's blood on it and it had smeared the blood on the gla.s.s, and if it hit that gla.s.s one more time, it would probably get through. But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst of it was the thing itself, a thing she knew in her mind could not exist, and yet there it was, a spider big enough to crack the gla.s.s in her door.

Maxine clambered to her feet and frantically looked around the kitchen for the phone, where was the phone?

"Where the f.u.c.k is the phone?" she whispered harshly.

The base was on the counter, but the receiver was gone.

She ran into the living room.

The thing outside pounded against the gla.s.s door again. Maxine heard the crack. But it hadn't broken open. Not yet.

The phone was on the end table at the other end of the couch. She s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and ran back through the living room, past the small dining area and the gla.s.s door a It was backing up from the door, preparing to ram it again.

a and down the hall to Dana's room, where she turned to close the door a She heard the gla.s.s in the door break and jingle as it fell in.