The Last of Her Kind Ch. 05

If this is your first time seeing this story, start at Ch. 01. It is written as a novel, and you will be so confused otherwise.

Returning reader, welcome back! I want to say thank you for the nice comments and feedback I have already received, but an extra big thank you to my readers who are Vietnam veterans. Some of you have shared your stories with me, and I don't think I have words to adequately convey how many emotions I've experienced while reading them. Some of you have made sacrifices that I would never wish on anyone, and I am glad you are still with us.

Please don't forget to rate or comment, it's what inspires me to write every day, and I will keep writing these stories as long as you keep reading them! More info in my bio on release dates for the rest of this saga.

Caught in the Web

Sludge leaked from the busted pipe into a bucket Darren had hung just beneath it. The women's restroom had flooded over the weekend, and he had moved into the crawl space beneath to deal with the issue, only to discover that the plumbing was completely shot.

The crawlspace was around four feet tall, and was a maze of pipes, vents and cobwebs. When people walked on the ground floor above, dirt trickled through small gaps in the floorboards. Donning a face mask and a pair of safety glasses, he had been underneath the library all day, attempting to repair rather than replace, but the process had been slow going. As the minutes trickled by, his memories threatened to surface like hungry fish, snapping at him for attention.

Moving a particularly large web to the side, he winced when a large brown spider tumbled free, then ran away in a panic.

"Sorry," he mumbled to the little creature as it disappeared around one of the dark corners. "Your house is in the way of progress." He held up the replacement pipe to ensure it was long enough and then slid it onto the old pipe with a fitting. Using his torch, he sweated the pipes and then soldered them together. The intense heat and humidity tickled at his sense memory, but he ignored it.

This morning, Ana had greeted him at his bedroom door, pushing him back to his bed. Leaning forward in her wheelchair, she had sucked him dry once again. Ever since that first night in the park almost two weeks ago, she had become more aggressive, initiating oral sex every day or so. Afterward, it was almost like she was a different person, caught up in some sort of post-orgasmic bliss, which he knew wasn't possible. She had assured him more than once that she felt nothing from the waist down, yet she looked so satisfied after she was finished with him.

Like every other sexual encounter, this one had left him feeling relaxed and at peace. The painful memories were still there, but they were now muted, distant somehow. He no longer heard Cutter's voice berating him, demanding justice for a death he felt he didn't deserve.

Still, the dark confines of the crawlspace did their best to amplify those dark feelings, and Darren kept his eyes on his work, thinking only of the pipes above and Ana. She was still such a mystery to him, but he figured with time he would get to know the woman who hid behind the facade.

Up above, he heard the soft chatter of children, followed by Ana's voice. It was storytime, and he stopped to listen in. No matter how cold she acted with others, she showed a special softness with the children. He wondered if she would be capable of such softness with a child of her own.

"Do you think that's even a possibility?" Dwayne asked him. His brother squinted at the pipe Darren had just soldered. "You've got a weak joint on this side, by the way."

"Oh?" Darren moved the lamp over and frowned. "Yeah, you're right." He grabbed the solder and went to work once more, heating the metal.

"I mean, she's numb from the waist down, but can she function? Like, could she have babies?"

"Hmm. I don't know. Ow, shit." He stuck his finger in his mouth, cooling it. While heating the pipe, he had accidentally touched the edge. "I guess maybe? Not something I figured I would bring up just yet."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Remember that one girl from high school? Kathryn?"

"I do." His lips curled into a smile. Kathryn and his brother had dated for a couple of months when she thought she had become pregnant. "You even got mom's old wedding ring and were ready to take the plunge junior year."

"Yeah. I wasn't ready to be a dad, but I was still excited. Then she had her period and cheated on me with Tommy Stiles." Dwayne chuckled. "Guess it was all for the best though."

"She got fat." After he had come home, he had run into her and her two kids at the grocery store. Kathryn had packed on sixty pounds and cut her hair super short, further emphasizing her chubby cheeks. When he saw her, she had been yelling at her bagboy for packing her groceries wrong. "And nasty."

"Weird, right? Like, you think someone will be the same way forever, but a couple of years is a really long time. It can chew you up and spit you out as someone completely different."

"Like Ana." What had she been like as a teen, before her accident?

"Man, you're obsessed." Dwayne playfully punched Darren's shoulder. "That joint looks way better now."

"Thanks." Darren rolled over and crawled over to another spot and looked up. Beads of water still clung to the underside of the pipe, remnants of a pinhole leak. "Think this is the last one here." When he looked back over his shoulder, Dwayne had picked up the lamp for him to bring it closer.

"I wonder why they all burst suddenly?" Dwayne pushed the lamp into place.

"PIpes are old. I suspect some air got in and created a hammer. Louise mentioned that she had heard a rattling or something whenever the water turned on, but never told me about it until the floor was all wet." The cold water pipe to the women's sink had cracked badly, and when he had checked the crawlspace for flooding, he had discovered the severity of the damage. It had failed in multiple places, spraying water everywhere. Luckily, it had drained quickly, but he was still cold and wet.

"It's amazing how one simple thing can cause everything to collapse." Dwayne picked up the epoxy and handed it over. "Just like that, the system fails."

Darren grimaced. "Yeah, that's how it goes. Do you remember when we used to talk about coming home, maybe starting our own construction company and working on houses?"

Dwayne nodded, then slid a half-eaten Snickers bar from his pocket. "Oh yeah. Double-D Construction. Building your home while tearing down prices."

"That slogan is still stupid." Darren finished drying the pipe with his last clean rag and was now filing it down with sandpaper. "But yeah, Little Mike convinced us we could make some good money doing it. We learned a ton about construction from the Corps."

"Easy money in electrical. That's what he always used to say."

"Yeah, he did." Darren smeared epoxy over the hole, making sure it was sealed along the edges. Triple checking the pipe for moisture, he used a couple small pieces of electrical tape to add a piece of toilet paper beneath it. When he checked on it later, he would know if any water was still getting out. "Get out of the military, make some good money, and then drink beers on a speedboat in the Gulf of Mexico. I was able to take the first step, but that's as far as I got."

When he looked to Dwayne for his response, his brother had gone. Letting out a sigh, he spent the next several minutes cleaning up and clearing out, then stumbled upstairs, his legs cramping from being crouched down for so long.

Stepping outside the library he closed his eyes, letting the warm sun wash over him. He crossed the street, his tools in hand, and went to the basement beneath the church to drop off the toolbox and put his things away. Once he was finished there, he went upstairs and peeled off his overalls, careful to toss them directly in the washing machine to avoid spilling mud.

Walking around in just his shirt and underwear, he opened a can of soup and ate it cold, his mind running over his list for the day. Tossing the can in the trash, he made a beeline for the shower hoping to warm himself up. After a relatively quick rinse, he changed into a white tank top and his fatigues.

Picking up his boots, he saw a wolf spider scurry for safety. He turned them upside down and gave them a shake, just in case.

"That's not your web in the church, right?" He watched the spider squeeze its fat ass through a hole in the floor. The giant web in the church had been on his mind a lot lately, but he hadn't had the time to properly investigate. Between time with Ana and his job, the only opportunity to go clean it up was late at night, and not only was the church unlit, but he didn't want to wake her up.

He had done some research in the library. Apparently some spiders around the world could form giant webs in times of floods, or even for giant spider orgies. Going back for another look, he had realized that though the web was large, he saw no movement in it, nor spiders in the church itself. It was almost as if they had built the giant web and abandoned it. Realizing that the web was most likely empty, it had dropped to the bottom of his list of priorities. Besides, it wasn't like they needed the church for anything.

As long as a bunch of spiders didn't start swarming into the house and freaking out Ana, he had decided to leave it alone. Maybe he would talk to Walters or Louise someday and look at renovating the church to expand their living quarters.

Lacing up his boots, he went back outside, walking toward the library.

A state of awareness fell over him, and he froze on the spot. It was the exact same feeling he had gotten back in 'Nam, right before a sniper had blown away a guy named Jackson just ten feet ahead of him. The feeling of being observed was so powerful that he almost turned around and went back home. Scanning the area, he couldn't shake the sensation of being watched, and took a cautious step forward, half expecting to experience a bullet passing through his skull and carrying him into darkness.

It didn't come. Shaken, he hurried across the street and entered the library, stepping away from the door. When he looked out the window, he still saw nothing, so he made a beeline for the utility room, then climbed the ladder up to the roof. Someone was out there, and he wouldn't feel safe until he knew who. Up on the roof, he crouched down near the edge, hoping to spot before being spotted. Looking down on the park, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He sat this way, motionless, for nearly an hour, his heart pounding in his chest. Some primal instinct had activated, and he knew better than most he needed to follow it.

When the sensation passed, he moved cautiously toward the ladder, then back inside. Whatever had been watching him, the danger had now passed.

"That was really close," Jeffrey said, his voice emanating from a tiny speaker in Cyrus' ear. It was the latest technology, a walkie-talkie with an earpiece small enough to wear, and it was like Jeffrey was standing right next to him. "I thought he had spotted me."

"I'm glad he didn't," Cyrus whispered, his attention on the large hardbound novel in his hand. He sat by an open window that overlooked the park outside. Even knowing where Jeffrey was, it was impossible to spot him up in the tree. He was using a magical cloak that mimicked nearby colors, much like a chameleon, and the only evidence of his presence was the unusual thickness of the tree's trunk about twenty five feet up. "But I am starting to think we are wasting our time."

Jeffrey let out a sigh, but didn't argue. Darren had seemed like a perfect candidate for the type of man who would aid the Arachne. He went on regular jogs toward the edge of town, and both Cyrus and Jeffrey had thought the hunt would end by following him. He apparently did it for fun, because he always ran to the edge of town and back, never stopping to check traps or take any goods to a third party.

For the first few days, Cyrus had felt like Jeffrey was onto something in his suspicions, but now he wasn't sure. Darren didn't act like a man who was hiding a secret, and certainly didn't seem to be in cahoots with anyone. Jeffrey had climbed the tree after breakfast, leaping up into the branches when there was a break in foot traffic. Cyrus had watched from inside the library, but Darren had been absent most of the morning. After a little snooping, he had discovered from the talkative Head Librarian that some pipes had burst under the library. Later on tonight, Cyrus was planning to break in and look around the library itself. It hadn't occurred to either of them that the Arachne could be hiding somewhere among the books.

Down below, he heard the front door of the library creak open, and Darren walked up the desk where Louise sat.

"You're clear," Cyrus told Jeffrey, his eyes back on the street. Jeffrey dropped from his position, landing in a crouch, the cloak billowing up to reveal his legs, then changing color to match the thick grass. Jeffrey ran across the yard toward the church, disappearing in the thick brush. Minutes passed, and Cyrus looked over at the reference desk and saw Louise checking over a list with Darren.

"There's a cellar here," Jeffrey muttered, his voice crackling. "Might be a good spot."

"Potentially. You need me?"

"Not yet. Just gonna take a quick peek."

"Roger." Cyrus moved to a different window, affording him a better view of the church. The building was old, and looked better suited for squatters than any other occupant. The silence was nerve racking, and he had to fight the urge to wander over and look for himself.

Downstairs, another round of storytime had started up. Louise, the Head Librarian, ran this one, and she was putting on a show for some mildly interested six-year olds. The woman had been friendly, but had struck Cyrus as a small town girl who had simply aged out of the role. His eyes on the church, he heard the eerie squeak of a wheel behind him.

"Excuse me." It was the other librarian, the crippled one who lived with Darren. She adjusted her glasses, an icy stare fixed on her face. "I just need to get past you, but my chair won't fit." She held up a pair of books destined for the shelves with several more positioned in her lap.

"I beg your pardon." Cyrus smiled and pressed himself against the window, giving her more room. She pushed the knob on her chair and moved forward, her chair squeaking as it passed. "You should have someone oil that for you," he offered.

"Probably." She disappeared down an aisle, and he could hear her squeaking between the rows.

"I'm back," Jeffrey said.

"And?" Cyrus whispered.

The loud sigh on the other end told him everything. Cyrus glimpsed his own reflection in the glass, his face stuck in a scowl. Darren had been their best lead, and he was about to become a dead end.

"Breaking in," Jeffrey said, and Cyrus heard metal picks being jostled. "I should be in and out in just a few."

Cyrus said nothing, hearing the squeaking noise behind him. The librarian went past again, her face fixed into a sneer as if she smelled dog shit. He looked down at his book and cleared his throat, signaling that someone else was there. Jeffrey went quiet too, and Cyrus sat there in silence, hating the idea that his partner could be attacked by an Arachne in hiding.

"Front room clear," Jeffrey said. "Moving toward the back."

This reminded Cyrus of the time he and Jeffrey had tracked down a vampire to an old house in the middle of Nevada. The beast was preying on young women in Vegas, then driving them to the outskirts of town in his hearse and keeping them like cattle. Most vampires had some human thrall to do their bidding, and he had been forced to watch for the thrall's return while Jeffrey cleared the house on his own. Cyrus had listened as Jeffrey moved from room to room, his blade ending the lives of the vampire's nest-mates before they could awaken. The thrall had come rushing back with a pistol, and Cyrus ended up in a firefight with the man while listening to Jeffrey almost die while killing the vampire.

"Bedrooms clear," Jeffrey said. "Guess I'm checking the church now."

Cyrus kept his lips tightly pressed together, his attention straying to a small spider descending the window panel. The creatures abdomen had two points on it, reminding him of a cat. It regarded Cyrus coolly with blank eyes before crawling into the corner to hide.

A loud bang in Cyrus' ear made his heart pound, and he fought the urge to run across the street.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Jeffrey muttered. "Stepped on some rotten wood and my foot fell through."

Cyrus let out a sigh of relief. "Anything in the church?"

"Nothing obvious, but I'm still... hold on." Painful seconds went by, and he clenched the book he held so tight that his fingertips lost color.

"Holy shit," Jeffrey hissed in his ear. "This is it. We found her."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm looking at her web right now. Looks like nobody is home."

"That means she's out. But where?"

"Hunting? She's gotta come home sometime. I'm guessing that soldier boy has been helping her, she moved in when he did. That librarian bird probably doesn't even know about it. Her chair would bust right through the floor in here."

Cyrus closed his eyes, relief flooding through him. "I'll be there in a few minutes. We should wait until she comes back and set a trap of our own."

"Agreed. What about the librarian?"

He heard Jeffrey chuckle. "What, you think she's gonna be a problem?"

Cyrus heard her squeaking on the other side of the shelf behind him even now. She was small, but seemed tough. Then again, without her chair, she couldn't do much. "If she comes home first, we can knock her out, park her somewhere safe. I would hate for her to get needlessly involved."

"You don't suppose she's already involved? Sounds like she and soldier boy have been spending a lot of time together lately."

Something about the question bothered Cyrus, but he couldn't put his finger on it. She had lived here for almost two years now, and he couldn't see any benefit to her involvement. Unless the Arachne had promised her a cure for paralysis, he imagined she was blissfully unaware.

"I'm guessing he's either trying to get her out of the house so the Arachne can feed in peace, or..." Cyrus shivered, the thought suddenly unnerving. "She might be a future meal. A crippled girl getting all that attention from a soldier? Soften her up a bit and then, one day, she just disappears. If anything, we're probably saving her life." He heard shuffling on Jeffrey's end, then silence.

"Bet that would be like veal to a monster. All soft and tender." Jeffrey smacked his lips, causing static. "Let me know when you're on your way. I've found a good vantage point, we should be able to spot her if she shows up before he does."

"Good." Cyrus said a silent prayer. The end was finally in sight.

Her blood had become ice, pumping violently through her veins. The little Cat-faced spider waved its arms at her, communicating as best as it could, and she had placed herself by one of the lower windows, one floor beneath where her pursuer sat, her eyes on the church. Keeping her eyes on the upper windows, she saw a shadow behind the dirty glass, his partner on the upper floor.

They had found her nest. Looking at the church, her home, being so violated caused an angry surge to travel through her. If she wanted, she could go back upstairs right now and snap the mage's neck and reduce her problems by half. However, doing so in a library full of children would cause a panic, and the last thing she needed was to cause a scene.