It amazed her how they could get themselves through the smallest cracks. Almost immediately, spiders, ants, and centipedes began to find their way under the bathroom door, heading to the first person in line, which was her.
“Give me some towels,” she ordered. She’d dropped the trashbag with the raccoon inside by the tub and was crushing the next wave of attacking insects beneath her sneakered feet.
Rich reached into a small cabinet above the toilet and pulled some out before tossing them to her.
She began to shove them tightly against the bottom of the door. She yelped as a centipede slithered over her sneaker and under the cuff of her jeans, and she stomped her feet and swatted at the leg of her pants until the thing dropped out. Half of its body was crushed, but that didn’t stop it from trying to get at her again.
“So now what?” Cody asked as Sidney jammed the last of the towels against the door.
“Now they won’t be getting in,” she said, double-checking her handiwork.
“Sure,” Cody agreed. “But in case you haven’t noticed, it’s a little cramped in here.”
Sidney stood and gave the bathroom a good looking over. She noticed the frosted glass window directly opposite the door.
“Where does that go?” she asked Rich.
“Backyard,” he answered.
Something larger than an insect pounded on the door.
They looked at each other, a spark of fear evident on all their faces.
Whatever was outside the door hit it again, causing it to shake. And then it began to scrape on the door, claws scratching furiously at the cheap wood.
“That door isn’t going to last,” Sidney said matter-of-factly. “We’re going to have to go out the window.” She pushed past Rich and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. She checked to see if it was locked and found that years of paint had made the latch inoperable. She turned to look at Rich.
“We never opened it”—he shrugged—“so when Dad painted—”
He was interrupted by the sound of splintering wood.
“We have to break it.” Sidney’s eyes scanned the bathroom and stopped on the metal towel rack attached to the wall. “This’ll do,” she said, grabbing the rack in both hands and giving a savage yank.
“Hey!” Rich objected as she pulled it again. “You’re wrecking the place.”
The rack came loose, plaster raining down to the tile floor. “Seriously, Rich?”
“Guys!” Cody’s gaze was fixed on the bottom of the door, where the wood had started to pock and crack above the barrier of towels.
Snowy sniffed at the towels, then barked wildly. The noises on the other side of the door stopped for only a moment before beginning again all the more furiously.
“You were saying?” Sidney said to Rich as she began to bang on the center of the window with the end of the towel rack. She was surprised it didn’t break. In fact, she was barely scratching it.
“Let me try,” Rich said, taking the metal rack from her. He hit the window squarely in the middle, and a fine crack appeared. “It’s all about the muscle,” he said, hitting it again. More cracks spiderwebbed through it, but still it didn’t break.
Snowy was barking again, her snout jammed into the towels at the bottom of the door, where pieces of wood were beginning to fleck away.
“What the hell is this made of?” Rich asked, preparing to strike the window again, but Sidney was too impatient.
“Give it to me,” she said, yanking the towel rack away from his hands.
Rich looked shocked and maybe even a little hurt, but she didn’t care. Time was running short.
She planted her feet and mustered all of her strength before swinging the end of the rack into the window like a baseball bat. The glass splintered, and several pieces fell away into the yard outside. Wind and rain whistled through the opening as she continued to bang away at the glass.
“Hold off,” Rich said, reaching to carefully pry away the jagged glass with his fingers. Sidney handed him the towel rack and went to see what she could do about the door.
She couldn’t do much. The bottom of the door was being gradually broken away. From the sounds of it, there was more gnawing now than digging.
This was getting way too freaky for her.
“Whatever is on the other side is going to be able to get under there soon,” Cody warned. He nudged the towels farther beneath the door with the toe of his shoe.
“Yeah,” Sidney agreed, looking behind her to the window. Rich was doing a good job, and almost all the glass was gone from the frame, but the opening looked much smaller now.
Rich peered out into the stormy darkness as he pulled the last of the glass from the frame. “Got a bit of drop back here,” he said as he turned to face them.
“Are we going to fit?” Cody asked.
“We’ll fit,” Sidney said firmly. There wasn’t any question—no other option.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of fur on the floor and gasped as a small, black, clawed limb reached through an opening in the door, ripping even more of the cheap wood and drawing it away. The scratching and gnawing sounds were intensifying by the second.
“Go,” she said, pushing Cody toward the window. Then she grabbed Snowy by the collar and hauled her toward the window as well. “You’re going to have to help her.”
“You first,” Cody said, “and we’ll pass her to you.”
Sidney shook her head. “No, you first, then Rich and I will get Snowy out. Rich will go next, and then me.”
“I don’t think—” Rich began.
“I do the thinking in this group and that’s my plan.”
“What if we don’t like it,” Cody said as Rich nodded emphatically.
A squirrel forced its head through the hole in the door, flashing sharp yellowed teeth before retreating.
“Not enough time for a new plan,” Sidney said. “I win. We have to go now.” Sidney pushed Snowy closer to her ex.
Cody looked as though he wanted to argue some more, but common sense prevailed, and he started to move. He stepped up onto the toilet and pushed himself through the window, his broad shoulders barely clearing the frame.
“Give me a shove,” Cody shouted over his shoulder as he kicked his legs and wriggled, trying to maneuver through the tight space.
Sidney and Rich each grabbed a leg and began to push, and a moment later Cody dropped out of sight, followed by a slight thud and a grunt.
Sidney stood on her toes to peer outside. “You all right?”
She saw him climbing to his feet, muddy and wet.
“I’m good. Get Snowy out here.” He raised his arms, preparing to catch the large dog.
Sidney squatted down in front of the dog to capture her attention. It was obvious that the shepherd was quite nervous by the streams of drool that were dripping from her jowls as she panted. Sidney rubbed the dog’s ears lovingly and looked into her eyes. “You’re going to be all right,” she said as calmly as she could, hoping that the dog would pick up on her intent.
The door was breaking away; she could hear the crunching and splintering of wood but refused to turn around.
“Ready?” Sidney asked Rich, who nodded.
She rose from her squat and placed her hands beneath the dog and began to lift. Rich joined her as Snowy began to wildly squirm.
“It’s okay—it’s okay,” she said to the dog as she looked into her dark brown eyes. “We’ve got you.”
They lifted her head through the window first. She was still squirming like crazy but quickly seemed to put two and two together as she must have seen Cody outside and below.
Snowy’s back legs were scrabbling for purchase, and Rich assisted by placing them up onto the sill.
“There she goes,” Rich said as Snowy disappeared.
There was a brief yelp of pain, and Sidney immediately panicked, sticking her head out into the rain to see what happened.
“Is she all right?” she called, holding her b
reath as she waited for the answer.
“She’s good,” Cody said. “I think she might’ve landed on a paw funny, but she’s good,” he added.
Sidney could see Snowy excitedly circling Cody, looking up at the open window space. He was rubbing her head and praising her for being a good girl. Snowy loved Cody, which was just one more reason that Sidney felt like such a terrible person for breaking up with him.
“Sid, look,” she heard Rich say behind her, and turned from the window to look at the bathroom door.
Something bigger than a squirrel was trying to push its way beneath the door, fighting the insects that swarmed in around its struggling head. She didn’t know what it was, but it had some nasty claws and was making short work of what remained of the bottom of the door.
“You next,” she said, grabbing hold of Rich’s arm and pulling him toward the window.
“No, you,” he said, fighting with her.
“We’ve already had this discussion and I won, remember?” she said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
He looked at her hard for a moment and must have realized it would do no good to argue. Time was running very short. Without another word, he grabbed the trashbag and climbed atop the toilet. He shoved the bag out the window, then hoisted himself through the opening and disappeared.
“All right?” she called out, now facing the disintegrating bathroom door.
“We’re good,” she heard Rich reply.
The bottom of the door was pushed inward with a loud cracking sound, and a groundhog forced its bulk through, allowing a swarm of insects and an assortment of rodents—she saw mice, ground squirrels, and even some chipmunks—to flow in to attack her.
She could see that they would be on her in seconds and decided that she wouldn’t take any chances of not making it through the window. Her eyes touched upon a lighter sitting on the back of the toilet tank next to a candle.
Flame. Fire. Something to drive them back.
She squatted down quickly and opened the cabinet beneath the sink and found what she was looking for.
A can of bathroom deodorizing spray.
Yeah, this will do nicely, she thought, remembering her younger days, hanging out with friends and matches.
The groundhog was looking at her with one cold, dead eye and another that glistened as if covered with some sort of reflective cover, just like the raccoon.
She pointed the can of deodorizer at the bottom of the door, and all the things that were now squirming inside to get at her, and pushed down on the spray head while bringing the lighter flame toward the chemically sweet spray streaming from the nozzle.
The vapor ignited in a rush of fire and intense heat, engulfing the flow of life as it squeezed beneath the door. Sidney kept her finger on the nozzle, moving the orange flame from left to right, driving some of the larger life back and igniting the towels wedged beneath the still-intact sections of door. She found it odd that none of the animals made any noise when burned, no hisses or squeals or cries of any kind at all, making something that was already incredibly strange and disturbing all the more so.
The animals had retreated temporarily, but she could already hear movement, guessing they were about to attempt to come through again. Sidney released the canister plunger, stopping the flame, and turned back toward the window, ready to make a run for it. The groundhog, or whatever the hell it was, with fur blackened in places and eyes seared red and oozing, shoved its head back beneath the door and again begin to drag itself inside, pushing the smoldering towels aside and opening up a larger passage.
And opening the floodgates.
The space beneath the door gaped wide, and a steady swarm of insects and vermin flowed into the small bathroom, moving immediately to attack her. Sidney jumped back, away from the swarm, stomping on and swatting at the animals and bugs. The back of her foot came up against the bottom of the bathtub, and she nearly lost her balance, grabbing on to the shower curtain so as not to fall. As if sensing an opportunity, the rodents sprang, moving with incredible speed up her body, seeking out any areas of soft, exposed flesh to scratch and bite. She reacted as best she could, grabbing at the warm, biting bodies, crushing them in her hand and tossing them away. If she weren’t fighting for her life, the feeling of the tiny, hollow bones of the rodents breaking beneath her fingers probably would have made her throw up. Hopefully, there’d be time for throwing up later, if she got through this.
The burned groundhog and three raccoons were forcing their way in beneath the crumbling wooden door, and she knew that it was probably only seconds before they were at her. Her eyes darted over to the open window as the boys called to her from outside. She had to get to them.
The animals’ numbers were growing. It was completely insane, but there wasn’t any other way to look at it. They wanted to kill her.
Climbing into the bathtub, she used the shower curtain as a shield against the encroaching onslaught, yanking both the plastic liner and the cloth curtain down from the rod and throwing them over her head like a cape to cover her body.
The groundhog leaped over the lip of the tub, mouth agape, squared yellow teeth ready to take a bite. She lashed out with her foot, knocking it away. The raccoons came next, springing at her but sliding from her body as they came in contact with the slick material of the shower curtain. She could hear the smaller critters as they attempted to attack her, their bodies pattering off the plastic covering her body. It was a good idea but one that she was sure the animals would eventually find a way through.
She wasn’t going to give them the chance.
The guys were yelling to her from the backyard. She stuck her head out the window briefly, seeing that Cody was attempting to climb back in.
“I’m coming now,” she called, using the toilet to give herself the leg up she would need to crawl through.
Something heavy struck her from behind, and Sidney lost her balance, her foot sliding off the plastic toilet lid and making her collapse to the floor. Still mostly covered, she lay there, collecting herself, listening to the sounds of claws sliding across the plastic covering her while trying to keep anything from crawling beneath.
Ready to rise, she was struck again by something heavy, and she found herself being slammed against the bathroom wall. She had no doubt that it was the raccoons working in tandem with the groundhog to keep her from escaping.
How is this even possible? Her panicked thoughts attempted to understand the insanity of the situation.
She moved toward the window again, listening to the sounds of clawed feet scratching upon the tile floor, and braced herself. The weighty body of one of the varmints struck again, but she was ready, bracing herself against the onslaught.
“Sidney, where are you?” Cody yelled up from the yard below the window. “C’mon!”
She used his voice as a beacon, sliding along the wall until she reached the window again. Mice and squirrels and chipmunks landed upon her plastic cloak, sliding back down to the floor, where they quickly resumed their attack upon her.
Lifting the makeshift cape over her head and face, she saw the opening and made her move, leaping up onto the sill of the window, squirming within her cocoon of plastic. The wood of the window frame was rough against her stomach, scraping away what she thought to be layers of skin, but that was the least of her concerns. Sidney wriggled her body through the opening, inspired to move all the faster by the sounds of multiple clawed feet clicking upon the tile floor of the bathroom. She imagined the sight of them in her mind, a wave of bugs and vermin surging toward her across the bathroom floor desperate to claw and bite—
To kill.
Shedding her plastic skin, Sidney squirmed into a position where both her legs were now sticking outright into space, and she brought one leg and knee up, pushing off on the small windowsill to finally send herself flying over the edge.
The ground rushed up to meet her, and she braced for the pain of impact. There was a flurry of movement just before she hit, and she
found her fall halted by the arms of her friends catching her.
“What took you so long?” Cody asked as he and Rich lowered her to the ground. Snowy jumped up onto her chest, licking at her face happily.
She didn’t answer, looking up to where she’d just fallen from. There were animals leaping onto the sill, spilling over the edge to land in the grass at their feet.
“We should go,” she said as she stood, motioning to her dog to follow when she started around the house toward their cars.
And then she remembered.
“The raccoon,” she said, stopping short and turning.
Rich and Cody stopped and stared.
“The trash bag with the dead raccoon,” she explained.
Rich turned and ran back to the yard where he’d dropped the bag.
“Are you all right?” Cody asked.
She looked at him strangely.
“I’m as good as I can be,” she said. “Given the circumstances.”
Rich returned, and she grabbed the bag from him before continuing around the house to the front drive, Snowy trotting by her side.
Even above the pouring rain she could hear something and stopped to listen.
“What now?” Rich asked, watching her.
“Listen,” Sidney said. “Do you hear that?”
It was sort of a rustling sound, but from all around them, growing louder than the heavy rainfall. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and an icy chill ran down her spine as the sounds intensified, coming closer.
From every open space around the yard, from around the house, they saw movement. Things making their way toward them.
“You’re shitting me,” Rich said, already on the run.
Cody was running too, though he continued to look back to where they had just come from.
Sidney looked as well. At first she didn’t understand what it was that she was seeing. It was like a wave of water, like a river that had overflowed its banks and was coursing in through the woods of Rich’s backyard. But that would have made some sort of sense.
What she was seeing made no sense.
Instead of water there were living things—mice and rats, and cats and squirrels. She even saw some smaller dogs within the wave of life rolling toward them.