The Uninvited (16 page)

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Authors: William W. Johnstone

BOOK: The Uninvited
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The doors closed with a thunk. Betty was alone. So she thought.
She walked the silent library, checking for burning cigarettes. People were not supposed to smoke there, but they did, and left their cigarette butts in the most unusual places, unconcerned about the place burning down.
Satisfied the library was secure, Betty walked to the rear closet and reached inside for her purse. Something crawled up her arm. She jerked her hand out of the closet.
Her arm, from fingertips to elbow, was covered with mutants. She opened her mouth to scream just as something bit her savagely on the ankle. And then she was covered with mutant roaches.
She ran screaming through the empty library, slamming into walls as the creatures covered her face, swarming her eyes. She tripped and fell, overturning a bookshelf and spilling dozens of volumes on the floor. She screamed again and then her mouth was filled with them.
After feasting, the mutants invaded the shelves, munching and chomping their way through Dostoevski, Hemingway, Steinbeck, Spillane, King, and L'Amour.
Then as the afternoon faded, the mutants slipped into the towns in the Parish, invading TV sets and stereos, eating the glue and insulation of the sets. They did the same to radios and CB's and the few ham operators' sets in the Parishes. They put the radio stations off the air, and one DJ and an engineer signed off prematurely.
Quietly, they slipped into homes, crawled under sinks, couches, and into cupboards, behind refrigerators and freezers, in the walls, under foundations. There, they waited for the signal to attack.
 
 
You be home early, Sarah,” Bob Campbell told his daughter. He looked at her with love in his eyes. A pretty girl, so very much like her mother.
We're just going to get a burger and go to the movies, Daddy,” his daughter replied with heroic patience and understanding. After all, she was fifteen, going on sixteen, and
everybody
knew that older people, especially parents, were such worriers! Over the silliest of things. And they knew so little of the real world. They just couldn't understand that the world was changing.
I don't care if you're just walking around the block,” Bob said, glaring at her, his black eyes menacing.
Be home by eleven o'clock. Sharp.”
Daddy!”
Eleven on weekdays,” the mother interceded quickly.
Twelve on Saturday nights. That's the way it is until you're older. Be home on time, Sarah. End of discussion. You and Dean have a good time. Good night.”
Oooohhh!” The teenager flounced from the den, slamming the front door.
“Unfair,” she muttered.
A clicking sound replied.
She looked around the porch. Nothing. “Unfair,” she repeated. “The bottomless, endless pit of unfairness.”
Click.
 
 
Dr. Long? Vic. That prisoner who was bitten by the bugs? You'd better come over to the jail and take a look at him.”
What's wrong, Vic?” There was a slight edge to the doctor's voice. Like everyone else who had knowledge of what was happening in the Parish, he was tired.
I've got him in isolation, away from the other prisoners. He's got some kind of awful disease, or something. He's foaming at the mouth.”

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