The Last of Her Kind Ch. 02

Hi all!

I just wanted to let everybody know that I super appreciated the feedback I received on the last chapter. It's always difficult starting a new project, and I was a bit nervous about this one. That, and picking an Arachne as a story focus is very hot for some, not so much for others :P

I did work very hard to keep the era realistic, but if you spot something off (wrong model of car, etc) please send me a note through the feedback form. I wasn't alive in the early seventies, nor was I a soldier in Vietnam, and I know that the little details make the difference.

Don't forget to check my Bio to see the release schedule of this story, or you can follow me to get the notifications when I post. Thank you so much for reading, rating, and making those comments, I love to read them!

For longtime readers, a surprise cameo from someone familiar this chapter. Hope you like it!

New Routines

When the sun rose, he had already been up for an hour. Moving quietly through the kitchen, he discovered that Ana did not keep the fridge or cupboards stocked well at all. The night had been long, his mind trying to work its way through several questions he didn't realize that he had had. He now had a roof over his head, but what about food? When would he get paid? He had a few dollars left and figured he could reimburse Ana for any food he ate, but now suspected that she was keeping food in her room.

He needed a routine. Just as the sun was rising over the trees, he was out for a morning jog in a black t-shirt and camo pants, his heavy booted feet hitting the pavement in an uneven rhythm due to the shrapnel in his leg. The pain was always the worst after sleeping or sitting for too long, but much like an engine that needed to warm up, it faded with every footstep, the pain more of a hollow memory in his mind.

The main street wasn't large, and he soon found himself running down a stretch of road surrounded by miles of farmland. The now steady patter of feet on pavement let his mind take a break, and he could at last ignore the empty feeling in his gut just a little bit longer.

He slowed down, looking out toward the distant hills. It occurred to him that he had no idea where the town ended and the rest of the world began. It would be so easy to keep running, to let his feet keep carrying him to wherever it was he so badly wanted to go. His chest was tight, his head pounding with his own heartbeat. He came to a stop, his hands on his knees, looking out over the rest of the world.

"Cutter is gonna make you dig latrines if you don't keep up." Dwayne stood next to him, his words punctuated by heavy breaths. Darren had stepped just off the trail for a moment, his chest on fire. He was fairly certain he was sick, his hair slick with sweat beneath his helmet.

"Cutter can fuck himself." There was no love lost for their commanding officer, but Darren kept his voice low just in case. Cutter would be bringing up the rear any moment now, but they had spread out while moving camps. If they weren't currently surrounded by the rest of their platoon, they would be packed together like sardines, the smell of Hayden's cigarettes clinging to them like grease.

"Yeah, well, maybe if you stand here long enough, he'll let you watch." Dwayne handed over his own canteen and a Snickers bar he had won playing poker a couple nights back. "You look like shit."

"Still better looking than you." Darren coughed, then accepted the water. He had drained his already over a mile back. He knew he should have saved some, but he was just too damned thirsty. Dwayne held out his hand and dropped three aspirin in Darren's palm. He swallowed them and then opened the Snickers, breaking half off and giving the other half back to his twin. Dwayne put it in his breast pocket, tucked back in its wrapper.

"I hear Cutter bitching." Dwayne patted his brother on the back and adjusted his rifle, a meticulously maintained M16A1. "I'll see you up ahead." He trudged forward, vanishing around the corner of a rock. Darren turned around, gazing over the valley they had just traversed. Distant gunfire echoed over the hills like weak thunder.

"You hitting the road, son?" Darren turned his head toward the new voice and the jungle disappeared. Sheriff Walters regarded him coolly from inside his squad car.

"Sheriff." Darren looked down the road. Every fiber of his being told him to keep running, but he couldn't quite convince his body that there was no longer anywhere to run. "Just getting in a morning jog and thought I would turn around at the town limit."

"You're going to be running forever then. Drunk driver took out the sign last winter and we haven't replaced it yet." Walters leaned across the front of the car and opened the passenger door. "Can I give you a ride back to town?"

Darren was covered in sweat, his breath coming in short bursts. He looked back toward town, wondering how long it would take him to get back. His internal debate was taking too long, but Walters waited patiently for his answer. His bad leg twitched, his knee sending up the early signs that such a trip might make the rest of his day that much worse.

"Yes, sir." Darren got in the car, his eyes on the dusty dashboard. Walters handed him a bottle of water and turned around, the distant hills vanishing in the side view mirror. The sun was higher in the sky than he had expected, and it occurred to him he had run farther out of town than he had realized. Fields became trees and then houses, and they were on the main strip once more. Walters pulled up to the curb next to the church.

"I should probably get cleaned up and head to work." The library opened at ten, so he figured he still had a couple of hours.

"You eat yet?"

"No, sir."

"Good. You can join me for breakfast at Matty's. Half an hour?"

Darren wanted to argue, but the void in his stomach told him otherwise. He nodded, which seemed to placate the sheriff. He got out of the car and walked around to the back. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see that Ana still hadn't emerged from her room.

Not that it mattered. If he was being truthful with himself, he enjoyed the solitude. Still, if he had to live with her, he wouldn't mind if she was a bit friendlier. He didn't need a best friend; his had died in 'Nam. He stepped into his room and got in the shower, the hot spray out of the rusted shower head rinsing the sweat away.

Last night's shower had been welcome, but he had used a bar of soap to wash his hair. It was a free one he had taken from a motel two hundred miles ago, and he doubted it would last him much longer. The staccato rhythm of water on the crappy old shower curtain he found in the basement took him away again, his mind on his first night in 'Nam. He had never seen so much rain in his entire life, and he remembered reporting to the barracks—only to discover that his brother was sitting at the same table he was.

"FUBAR." He heard the word out loud, but couldn't tell if he had said it or if he had remembered hearing it. That's what Little Mike had said when they found out that their orders had gotten crossed. His parents had given them both the same initials when they were born. It was the whimsical thing people did with twins, but that moment of whimsy had caused a discrepancy in paperwork and they had both been assigned to the same unit by mistake, adding an extra man to their squad. He had been so grateful to see Dwayne there that he put minimal effort into getting the error corrected.

Knowing what he did now, he wished he had.

He turned the shower off and stepped out. He dried himself off and put on a clean shirt and the same pants he had just worn. They were the only pair he had that was suitable for eating out. Darren looked outside through the smudged window of his room. He could see the main road and the denizens of town walking along the big sidewalk. His eyes caught the movements of a fairly large wolf spider regarding him from a crack in the pane. Some dirt had accumulated on the sill, accompanied by what he assumed was the remains of a pillbug.

"Don't worry about me," he told the spider. "You stay out of my bed and I'll stay out of yours." He flicked the dead bug off the sill and walked out into the common room. The door to Ana's room was still closed. He wondered if he should tell her he was leaving, but then realized she didn't care about his whereabouts. He walked to the back door and stepped outside.

The wind caught the screen door and slammed it shut behind him. He winced at the bang, closing his eyes to steady himself. The smell of the jungle drifted across his nostrils, and then he was back.

He walked over toward Matty's, ignoring the stares from the locals. Hannah greeted him almost as soon as he was inside the door, then pointed at the table in the back. The sheriff sat across from a woman he didn't recognize.

"Morning." Walters greeted him with a nod, then pushed a mug of coffee across the table. He scooted over, making room for Darren to sit. Darren cast a wary eye at the woman, suddenly worried that he was looking at Louise.

"Ma'am." He accepted the coffee, letting it warm the knuckles of his fingers.

"Morning." Louise had a mostly eaten plate of food in front of her. "You must be hungry. Let me get you something."

"I'll manage." He sipped his coffee, but Louise ignored him, flagging down Hannah to put in an order for an omelet and some fruit. Hannah seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye.

"So my brother tells me that you went out for the longest run ever this morning." Louise sipped at a cup of tea. Darren felt tension he hadn't been aware of melt from his shoulders. He had been worried they were meeting about him. While still possible, it was more now more likely they were sharing a bite for shits and giggles.

"Didn't realize how far I had gone." Darren felt uncomfortable squeezed in next to the sheriff. He didn't like knowing that a gun he didn't trust was by his side. "Town is smaller than I expected."

"That's the truth. I grew up around here." She leaned back in her seat. "Will probably die here, too. My bones are too old to settle somewhere new."

Sheriff Walters rolled his eyes. "You're too stubborn to die. Louise here plans on retiring in a couple of years to travel a bit. Would be good for her to see the world."

"Not everywhere is friendly." Darren supposed he had seen the worst of it. He couldn't imagine anywhere else on Earth where someone could catch jungle rot, get blown up by Charlie, or even killed by your own squad for being a huge piece of shit.

Fucking Cutter. He buried the memory before it could surface. That was one he didn't want to see, not now or ever.

"I suppose that's true." Louise checked her watch. "I'm afraid I have to go. Give my love to Mel for me?"

"Always do," Walters said.

When Louise stood up to leave, Darren took her spot in the booth, sitting across from Walters. He didn't like having his back to the front door, but preferred it to being so close to the law man. Walters added sugar to his nearly empty cup and then held it out. Hannah reappeared with a fresh pot, filling the cup to the brim.

"Need some extra spark today." Walters set his mug down. "Louise has some concerns I would like to address with you."

"Regarding?" Darren knew this job was too good to be true, but still held out hope.

"It occurred to her that she stuck you in a living situation with a woman who eats next to nothing. Last time I checked on Ana, that girl had next to nothing to eat in her pantry. I don't make assumptions, but I'm guessing you still gotta eat." Walters slid a twenty across the table. "This isn't charity, son. It's an advance on your first paycheck."

"I haven't done any work yet." Darren looked at the faded Jackson on the table.

"You're right. But I got a feeling you ain't about to run off with it. And if you do, don't run east. My house is on the edge of town, that's how I knew you were out for a run."

"Just an advance." Daren took the bill and stuck it in his pocket. His first thought had been how many meals he could get for twenty bucks, but it had occurred to him that the money could be used for living expenses. Actual shampoo. Maybe a razor. The government-issue boots he wore certainly weren't in the best of shape. He could even buy some groceries for his new place. "Thank you."

"No, thank you. Louise kept telling me how grateful she was that a soldier would be looking out for her girl Ana. My sister thinks very highly of her. Likes her spirit. Don't do anything to betray that trust."

"No, sir." A plate of food appeared in front of Darren along with some fruit. Before he could unwrap his silverware, Hannah was gone again. The damn woman was a ghost.

"Louise paid for your breakfast today, but you're on your own from here on out. However, you get in a bind, you let me know and we can work something out. I have plenty of work around my house for a strong back."

Darren nodded. Sheriff Walters sat with him until his coffee was gone and then bid him farewell. Darren finished his breakfast and walked over to the library where Louise handed him a long list of things that needed to get done. He went to go get tools to start work, waving at Ana when he walked past her. She ignored him, her face buried in a stack of books.

When Darren walked past her, she felt a tightening in her guts that made her blue blood run cold. It was a sudden urge to pounce, tackling Darren to the floor and biting him until he was erect enough to mate, then fuck until he came inside her. Instinct and safety demanded that she kill and eat him immediately after, a desire that had been built into her genetic code over thousands of generations.

Unlike her sisters, she was curious about the humans they hid from. While her nest had been content to snag a homeless man every couple of days for eating, she was out watching parents tuck their children into bed, or a man kiss a woman for the first time. Humans were a fun curiosity for her, a way of connecting with a father she had never known because her mother had eaten him after mating. Somehow a wire had crossed in her head, and she was unable to see the world the same way her sisters did.

Her curiosity had saved her life. Ana could still hear the screams of her sisters inside the burning warehouse, Glasgow now so many years behind her. Smaller than her nestmates, she had been able to slip away without her mother knowing. She had wandered off to sneak into a dance hall, the sounds of the musician's instruments like a flame to the fluttering moth-wings of her mind. Ana had stayed out too long, and upon her return, she had discovered a large circle of men surrounding her nest. Mesmerized, she watched when they set the warehouse ablaze and waited, blades drawn, for her sisters to flee.

The fine hairs of an Arachne gave them supernatural senses. Tremors in the earth, slight shifts in the breeze, all of these things could be felt and deciphered, mapping out the world around them. However, once those hairs were burned away, they were left only with what they could see in front of them, and the only things her sisters had seen was the intense flames that had been set to entrap them. Blinded by both heat and light, the nest had fled directly into the ambush, chopped into pieces before her eyes.

A lone swordsman had spotted Ana, so she ran. She squeezed through a small crack between buildings, barely wider than a foot, but not before the swordsman managed to cut off two of her legs. The pain of those lost legs had been nothing compared to the agony of returning to the warehouse days later and finding that none of her sisters had survived.

The local authorities had found bodies in the wreckage, but they belonged to the humans the nest had been feeding off of. She wanted to hate the men with swords, to vow revenge, but she had been too smart for that. Unlike her sisters, she had realized as a child that the humans weren't just food to be eaten and bred with. They were living creatures with thoughts and feelings, and they had chosen to get their point across in a most brutal manner. Defeated, she had fled across the ocean, vowing to never again treat man as prey.

However, her biological clock was no longer ticking, but an alarm blaring within her loins. She had experienced bouts before, but nothing quite like this. It was the way of the Arachne, to mate with a human male and build a nest. If the human survived mating, then he would get wrapped up as a snack for the mother to be. It was a survival mechanism that protected them from starvation and discovery, and she knew if she were to find a mate, she could never guarantee her own safety, nor that of her children.

Her mother's nest had been the last. The Crusades had narrowed their numbers dramatically, and the Black Plague had starved them out. The discovery of the New World had allowed their numbers to grow again, but the hunters had found them, eventually using the Civil War as a coverup to ruthlessly hunt them down. Even the native population of Arachne, revered by the indeginous people, had been wiped off the earth.

Their numbers continued to shrink as the world mastered guns and fire until the second World War had driven them nearly to extinction, her mother the sole survivor of experiments done by the Nazis.

Could she afford to start again? If she took a mate, her children would eventually be consumed by the same hunger eating at her now and may lack the foresight to fight it off. It was an internal debate she couldn't win either way. If she mated, she would no longer be lonely, but would become hunted once more. She liked this town and the people in it, liked exploring her own human nature. She could read stories to their children, enjoy breakfast with a friend, things that her spider-half didn't understand.

"Miss Ana?" A child of maybe six handed her a book. Her spider-half saw the baby fat on her cheeks, could smell the hot blood pumping through her veins. Her breath carried the odor of Cheerios and banana and there was a spot on her neck that would be perfect for biting.

"Yes?" Her human-half saw the pigtails, imagined a mother patiently putting them in this morning, teaching her how to read, holding her hand when she was sick, and weeping with grief if she died.

"I found it by the bathroom but didn't know where it goes." The little girl smiled and skipped back over to the Kid's Corner. Ana looked down at the book she had been handed. It was a copy of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

"We may brave human laws, but we cannot resist natural ones," she said. It was a quote from the book. She had read it many times on her voyage from Europe to the US, hidden aboard a cruise ship in an unoccupied room while she molted, her legs growing back. Perhaps it was an omen, a testament to her inability to escape her own monstrous nature.

"Fuck you, Nemo." Her voice was low so nobody would hear. She tossed the book onto a nearby cart. Ana wouldn't let instinct get the better of her. She refused. She would continue to hunt small game, live quietly in her church, and scratch out a living she could be proud of that didn't involve feasting on the locals.

"Excuse me, Ana?" She didn't even have to turn around, the smell of him alone setting her senses ablaze. Her wheel squeaked when she rotated to face him, her new roommate. Darren's face was serious now and he held Gary's old toolbox in one hand. The level of sudden attraction she experienced now had nothing to do with his personality or even his looks. She could smell the strength of his very genetic code, the same genes that had helped him develop his lean physique. The sickly smell of the bus stop still lingered, but now his natural scent carried with it the promise of a fast pregnancy and a good meal after.