The road through Deadwood twisted with pure chaos as the ants ravaged it and the surrounding cities. Giant red carpenter ants darted through the alleys and climbed up the walls and onto rooftops of passing homes. Their mandibles clacked. Their antennae waved above their heads, performing their programmed mission to eat and destroy the human colony in the support of their own.

  “They’re everywhere,” Tessa said. “There must be hundreds.”

  “At least,” Beau said, gripping the steering wheel. A moment after he said that, an ant scurried across the road forcing Beau to swerve hard onto the shoulder nearly plummeting into the ditch.

  “How do we deal with this, Beau? This is a disaster!”

  “I don’t know—I don’t know.”

  Each carpenter ant was the size of a pitbull and moved with hypnotic urgency. Many ants peeled away from the main swarm in twitching squads. They stormed garden beds, broke into pantries, and skittered through shattered windows in pursuit of anything edible. The air was thick with smells—rotten fruit, burned insulation, sour protein powder, and beneath it all, the metallic tang of raw and electric fear. Screams rattled out every time a new ant crashed through someone’s window or punctured someone’s car tire.

  Beau gripped his truck’s steering wheel. He tore down the road. His car battery whined high and tight like it was screaming at them. They passed by one house with smoke curling up the sides of it. They passed another house half consumed in flames. A shriek echoed behind them—someone losing something. A pet? A limb? Something worse?

  “We can’t hit both,” Tessa shouted, gripping the dash. “Where do we go first?”

  Beau didn’t hesitate. “Your mom’s place. It’s closer.”

  Tessa blinked, surprised. “What about your grandpa?”

  Beau’s jaw clenched. “I said your place first. It’s on the way. Then, we find Rufus.”

  If one of those ants found his grandfather, who was fond of long walks down the streets—his heart staggered at the thought. The ‘General’ could be anywhere in the mess. And if the ants caught him, out in the open like a stray cat—he didn’t want to think about what might happen to him.

  Within minutes, Beau pulled his truck into Tessa’s neighborhood. He swerved around another scurrying ant. He turned the wheel, pulled the truck into the driveway, and slammed the truck into park. Tessa and her mother didn’t live in an ordinary house. Two years ago, they added a sleek white polymer addition to their three bedroom single story family home. The addition was where they built Dr. Lorne’s lab. The polymer was something simple, cheap, durable, and waterproof. It was easy to clean. It wasn’t meant to defend from a giant ant attack. As they exited their truck, one of the giant red ants was crawling through the polymer window. How many more might be inside?

  Were they too late?

  The front yard was littered with medical packaging—shattered flasks, bloodied gauze, shreds of medical files.

  Beau and Tessa ran to the door on the side of the lab.

  “Mom?” Tessa yelled, running up to the door. Beau was right behind her. There was no answer from Dr. Lorne. Tessa swung open the door and entered the lab.

  Dr. Lorne was the kind of woman who dusted and organized the place just for fun. Inside the lab, papers and shattered glass littered the tile floor. The plastic draped decontamination room had been torn away, exposing the rest of the house. The lab samples were contaminated and ruined. Dr. Lorne’s white boards were tipped over. Microscopes had been tossed to the ground. There wasn’t any blood, but there was an awful stench lingering in the air. It smelled of antiseptic and insect musk all fighting for dominance. Then came the sound, a wet chewing noise that was repetitive and grotesquely calm.

  “Where is that coming from?” Tessa said, looking around frantically.

  “There,” Beau said.

  The giant carpenter ant was on the counter top chewing on a ration pack. A second carpenter ant had its body half-buried in the toppled refrigerator in the kitchen. Its legs scrabbled as it tried wedging itself further inside.

  Something moved, a glimmer of silver hair and a bloodied white coat. Dr. Lorne hid behind an overturned medical cart, practically lying on the ground.

  “Mom!” Tessa shouted, pushing past Beau.

  “Stop!” Beau yelled.

  Dr. Selene Lorne raised her head. Her eyes—usually cool, surgically precise—were red-rimmed, frantic, and extremely human. “Tessa! Beau! Stay back!”

  The ant rummaging around the refrigerator pivoted backwards toward the voice. Its mandibles twitched and its antenna flailed wildly.

  Beau grabbed the closest thing he could find, a baseball bat lying against the wall. Tessa kept it there for intruders even though the dome was extraordinarily safe. He gripped the bat firmly and swung a quick test swing. Time to crack open some ant skulls.

  His first swing smashed into the ant’s eye-spot with a sickening thump. The creature recoiled, legs flailing. Beau swung again. His teeth clenched. He caught the thing’s neck joint with a wet snap. One final swing sent it twitching to the ground.

  The second ant scuttled behind him, the ration pack lodged in its mouth.

  Beau swung, harder than ever.

  The second ant lunged at the bat and grabbed it with its mandibles. It pulled the bat free from Beau’s hands and launched it across the room. Beau frantically looked for another weapon.

  The carpenter ant lunged and latched onto Beau’s thigh.

  Beau rolled to the floor, shoulder hitting hard tile. Heat flooded his side. Beau kicked hard and connected with the ant who released him, scrambled, and toppled over. Its legs kicked wildly.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He grabbed a steel leg from a damaged stool and jabbed it down into the ant’s thorax and twisted it into the wound. It screeched. He twisted it some more. Leaving the steel leg lodged into the ant, he grabbed a broom off the floor and drove the tip of the steel handle into the creature’s mouthparts. The ant jerked and spasmed. Then it went still.

  Panting, Tessa grabbed the tallest beaker and smashed it across the ant’s head with a sickening CRACK. Glass shattered. It jerked once, then went still.

  “That thing better be dead!” she screamed.

  Dr. Lorne emerged from behind the cabinet. Her lips were pale but her eyes remained steady. She wiped the blood from her chin and straightened her coat. Antiseptic dripped from her coat. “That was poorly executed,” she said, glancing down at the gore. “But very effective.”

  “Mom!” Tessa protested. “We saved you!”

  “I think she meant to say thank you,” Beau muttered.

  “I was synthesizing a new strain of antibiotics,” she added, looking at the wreckage of her lab. “It would have put us years ahead in our inventory. Now it’s all completely ruined by gigantic ants. Never in my life had I considered that a possibility.”

  Tessa rushed to her side and hugged her. “Are you hurt?”

  Dr. Lorne shook her head. “I have a few scrapes. They weren’t after me. They wanted the ration packs and the prepped cultures. They followed the scent. They’re…so massively huge. Did they come from the outside?”

  “These things came through the rift,” Beau replied.

  “But what about the poison gas?” Dr. Lorne asked.

  Tessa wiped the sweat from her brow. “There is no poison gas, mom. That was all a lie.”

  Dr. Lorne paused. “Are you certain?”

  “Saw it myself,” Tessa said. “Beau showed me the truth.”

  “You climbed through to the other side?” Dr. Lorne asked. “What did you see?”

  Beau’s shoulders tightened. “We don’t have time—Rufus is still out there.”

  Dr. Lorne didn’t protest. Instead, she grabbed some bandages. “Go. I can clean this up.”

  “Stay here, Tessa,” Beau said, already moving. “Seal this place up. I’ll be right back.”

  “No,” Tessa said. “I’m coming—”

  “I have to find my grandpa,” Beau’s voice cracked. “He could be out there just wandering around. Stay here and protect your mother. Protect the medicine that’s left, it’s too important to lose any more.”

  “He’s right,” Dr. Lorne said.

  Tessa frowned, but nodded. “Fine. Stay safe, Beau.”

  “You too.”

  He sprinted back to his truck. He took the baseball bat with him. He backed out of the driveway then launched down the street.

  Deadwood felt so wrong, like they were in the middle of an active killing ground. He passed more giant ants who climbed through front doors of homes which were ordinarily opened for their neighbors. They burst through windows. They climbed up the sides of chimneys and then dropped down into the shafts. It was all a complete nightmare scenario.

  As he raced toward his house, hoping to find his grandfather, he passed by a field where he used to chase fireflies. That was years ago when he was small. He didn’t feel like a kid any more. With all that adrenaline and fear coursing through him, he felt more like a man than he ever had.

  Minutes later, he pulled into his grandfather’s driveway.

  Three giant carpenter ants crawled along the outer fence. One ant reared its head against the porch rail and snapped through a wooden post. Another skittered up the side of the house and climbed onto the roof.

  Inside, Beau heard the distinct sound of a pop-pop-pop.

  Beau nearly choked with relief. “He’s still alive.” He exited the truck and ran toward the front door which was wide open, baseball bat in hand. “Grandpa!” he shouted, boots crunching glass. “It’s me! It’s Beau!”

  A shape moved behind the porch screen.

  “Bout time you showed up!” Rufus Danning growled from behind the busted mesh door. He wore his old army uniform with all his medals. “We need reinforcements! Call the Army! Call the Navy! Call the Marines! We need air support!”

  There was another pop. A pellet bounced off the ant on the front porch, who was now trying to eat through the window mesh. It was entirely ineffective.

  “BB’s won’t kill these things!” Beau shouted. “They just make them mad!”

  “I noticed!” Rufus yelled.

  The ant on the porch turned and faced Beau.

  He didn’t hesitate. He held his bat up and prepared to swing, but something was wrong about the weight of it. It felt too light in his hand. That’s when he realized his bat had snapped in half. It was useless, so he dropped it.

  The ant snapped its mandibles at Beau.

  Thankfully, one of Rufus’s woodcutting axes was laying in the rocking chair beside him. He grabbed its rubber handle. It was old and worn, but sharp enough. And it had some weight. He brought it up, then swung down hard on the ant the instant it lunged at Beau. The edge on the axe came down and deflected off the shell, but the blow made the ant stagger backwards. Beau reared back and swung again. The blade cracked the ant’s thorax. For the third swing, he swung even harder. The blade smashed into the ant and dug deep. The ant collapsed. Its legs twitched then stilled.

  A second ant climbed up onto the porch from the far side and charged at Beau, who roared and swung his axe a tight arc. He cleaved through one leg, then smashed the blade into the body. He swung and swung again until the ant’s body rolled, useless, bleeding, and dying.

  Rufus clutched his chest. “Am I having another episode? Is this real?”

  “This is real,” Beau said. Sweat pooled on his back. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m rattled,” he said. Rufus looked down at his BB gun and tossed it aside. “We don’t have the firepower for these invaders. What are we going to do, Lieutenant?”

  Beau didn’t have military training. He was just regular ol’ Beau, who happened to be holding an axe bloodied with giant ant ichor. “I don’t know. What do you think we should do?”

  Rufus clasped a hand on Beau’s shoulder. His eyes, usually twitchy and distant, were now sharp—steel memories beneath the fog. “You’ve got a weapon. You’ve got your wits. Now go and help the others. Then, call the Army. Call the Navy. Call the Marines.” There were no armed forces in the dome, but he understood the sentiment. He needed to rally fighting capable forces.

  Beau looked back toward the valley, where more neighborhoods were. Smoke trailed into the sky. Screams echoed. More ants scurried down the street. One car drove down the street, swerved, and smashed through an ant. It nearly spun out, but the driver regained control.

  “I’ll save who I can,” he said. “It’s just…look at all of this.”

  “Do your best,” Rufus replied. “That’s an order.”

  Beau tightened his grip on the axe. The weight of it felt right in his hands. He hugged Rufus. “Lock yourself inside. Barricade the doors. Protect yourself.”

  Rufus nodded and disappeared further inside the house.

  Beau climbed back into his truck and sped toward the center of Deadwood, hoping to save whoever he could before his home inside the Paradise Dome imploded into a fiery pit of screams and death at the hands of giant ants.

  If he could just get to the square and clear it, they may have a chance of developing a stronghold secure enough to organize enough people to hunt down and kill every last one of them.