Short Story - Unit 48: The Case of Creapicrolly Town

By Matthew Fu

Part 1: Corporal Ian (extended)

A green jeep rolled down the dusty road, crushing a few tumbleweeds. Even in broad daylight, the town of Creapicrolly seemed ghostly and wrong to corporal Ian. He hated this. Ghost towns were on his list of top ten fears, yet sergeant Ryan had still dispatched him to inspect this abandoned town. Here he was, driving his banged-up hummer without anything but a pistol, a Grenade, and a dog to face all the mysteries of Creapicrolly. Ian decided to park his jeep at the gas station to fill up, since it looked like the machines still worked after 50 years. He stuck the nozzle into his jeep, and waited until it filled up.

The environment was conspicuously silent, save for Chet the wolfhound barking once in a while, and the door to the gas station’s snack bar creaking as it swung on rusty hinges, controlled by an unseen force. Ian was wondering what it was, when the old gas pump made a thunk as the gas was filled. A few bugs crawled away as Ian lifted the nozzle. He brushed them aside. Then, he went into the snack bar. Seemed like a good place to start reporting about the town. As he entered, he saw a large blob behind the counter. An impossibly huge spider squatted on the racks of Reese’s. The spider clicked its pincers menacingly. Ian groped for his gun, but then realized he’d left it in the car. The last thing he had was one pistol and one grenade. The hair rose…on the spider, as it sensed Ian, and scuttled towards him, legs sharp as knives, sending sparks across the floor. The spider was as large as Chet. Ian had no choice, so he hurried back to his car. He flung open the car doors, and let out his hound. “Come on, Chet!” he yelled. The dog bounded out, and Ian made a grab for his AK. The door to the snack bar swung open, admitting the spider. Ian backpedaled, opening fire. The spider screeched, and skulked away into the snack bar, with a few bullets finishing it off. Ian looked around anxiously. Something was wrong enough in this town that the human population had been replaced by an insect population, equal in size and numbers. He would have to report to General Austin before further investigation. Ian started the car, Chet pouncing back into the trunk. Immediately, a grinding sound filled the air, like someone was crushing rice under a rolling pin. The engine groaned. A strange scratching sound filled the air, like the sound of a pencil on a wall. As Ian stomped on the gas pedal, the dashboard exploded, and a black cascade poured into the hummer’s interior. “NO! NO! IT CANNOT BE!” Ian shrieked. Chet howled in utter fright. “THE GAS STATION…NO! NOT BUGS! ANYTHING BUT BUGS!” Ian screamed as the bugs from the gas station swarmed into the car. How could he have not seen it? Ian letting out the nozzle, a few bugs coming out, the grinding noise…he’d filled his car with bugs, not fuel! Ian let out a final scream as the bugs crawled all over him, into his mouth, his nose, and all over Chet. The hummer that belonged to corporal Ian never left Creapicrolly town. The residents made sure of that.

Part 2: DTV Vincent

Detective Vincent muttered sourly as he climbed into his black Chevy Suburban. It had been five months since the death of his beloved comrade, corporal Ian. Ian had died investigating a creepy, abandoned town. “Look at me,” Vincent muttered sourly “I’m off to Ian’s death place. Yippee”. His two hounds, Bull and Dozer, perked up. Vincent laughed as he saw the contents of the trunk, and the ridiculous gun turret sprouting out of his car’s roof. Ian had gone in armed with a pistol and an AK47. Here he was, driving to the same town…with a tank of pesticides. At least he was going prepared. He stomped on the accelerator, leaving the garage and an angry mechanic coughing on his dust.

The ride took hours, which gave Vincent time to get his courage. However, this all diminished when he saw the lonely open highway turning into dirty, pebble roads. As soon as he saw the first rusty mesh fence, Vincent knew where he was: Creapicrolly Town.

The town lived up to its name. Vincent already identified 16 species of insects as he made his way to the gas station. He was about to turn on the nozzle and pump his car with some fuel, when he hesitated. Corporal Ian’s last words had been “THE GAS STATION…NO! NOT BUGS! ANYTHING BUT BUGS!,” then the radio lost signal. The sound accompanying Ian’s last words sounded like a pencil scraping on a brick wall. Detective Vincent sure didn’t want any bugs in his car. Vincent got out of his car, strapping on the tank of pesticides. Holding the wand close at hand, he slammed through the rotten wood door or the snack bar. What he saw was quite similar to Ian’s report through the radio. A large spider lay dead on the linoleum. Its eight spindly legs poked into the air like spring-loaded knives. Vincent sighed. He’d been hoping to break into a vending machine without any insects, dead or alive. As he approached the counter, Vincent saw something that made his heart catch in his throat. Behind the counter, there was a white lump of silk, the size of an eagle’s nest. In that nest…there were about 70 baby spiders, all the size of rats. Vincent quietly pumped the pesticide tank…then with a sudden motion, he fired! The liquid sprayed across the nest, killing the spiders. Their mandibles worked furiously, but they died. Vincent ran out of the snack bar. As he looked around again, he saw something that made his heart ache. A green jeep…just like Ian’s. As Vincent got closer, he saw the license: 14N-C00L. Tears threatened to spill as he saw the battered hummer in which his friend once was. This made him more determined than ever. As he looked at his Black Suburban, with its ridiculous turret, an idea began forming.

Ten minutes later, he had his pesticide attached to the turret. As he finished, proud of his handiwork, a dark, dirty green cloud approached him. Vincent had a good idea what they were. The submitted census of the town had reported 200,000 people. These were probably what was left of it. Vincent took aim and fired…nothing came out. He had about five seconds before the swarm got him. Desperately, he reached into the SUV to pump the pesticide to load up the wand. Disaster! His hand tore the handle clean off. He desperately pumped the stubbed handle one last time…to no avail. The swarm clutched at his face, his eyes, his chest…before crawling into the SUV. Vincent kicked and screamed…tipping over the tank, spilling the pesticide all over the car interior. The bugs landed in the car, preparing to do their worst. As they landed, the pesticide took effect. In unison, they made one last desperate screech. Then, they plopped, as a great black carpet, onto the floor mats. Vincent looked into the car, breathing heavy from the ordeal. Bull and Dozer were running around like madmen, tearing at the floor mats, sending bugs flying out the door. Vincent sighed, climbing back into the van. A few mosquitoes waved their legs feebly. Vincent ignored them. He closed the doors, and stomped on the accelerator. He’d have quite an interesting report for General Austin.

Part 3: SGT Markus

Unit 48 was having a crappy week. Sergeant Markus sat in the plastic chair by Vincent’s medical bed. The detective has gone into a coma after not only experiencing, but surviving the traumatic investigation of Creapicrolly town. “I wonder when he’ll wake. It’s been two days,” Markus thought. Then, a moment later, “gosh, this chair is sure making me stiff”. Unit 48 had lived in fear since the return of Vincent. He had returned in an SUV spewing bugs like cash out of a getaway car. Some dead, some alive. It was the ones that were alive that were the problem. According to Vincent, there had been a giant spider at the gas station. The officers of unit 48 weren’t sure what sort of mutations, diseases, and cross-breeds there were in the hundred or so bugs that lived. However, Unit 48 was tasked with the job of containing the bugs, given that they were the only ones with a quarantine bay. Markus got up and headed for the quarantine bay. In there, strapped to beds, were half a dozen mechanics, who had been exposed to the bug bites of the insects in Vincent’s vehicle. Markus heard a faint buzzing from a cabinet, and opened it. The sight that greeted him almost made him scream. In numerous jars, the insects crawled and scuttled. From the little fire ants to the largest cicadas, all of them were mutated in some way, be it double the mandibles, an extra pair of legs, or even wings where there weren’t supposed to be any. Markus stumbled back, accidentally knocking over a couple jars of mutant insect on the counter. The glass cracked, releasing the insects. Markus braced himself for the stingers and mandibles, but instead, the bugs swarmed towards the mechanics. They went into the mechanics. Literally, into them. Through partially open lips, nostrils, even ear holes. As the last fly went into the last nose, the mechanics began to writhe on the beds. Straps broke. Bodies hopped off medical beds. They all stared at Markus, lacking emotion. “So…vaccine effect?” the sergeant said hopefully. On cue, the mechanics’ mouths split in the middle. Jaws became mandibles. Teeth became saws. Markus could take it no more, and ran. Behind him, he could hear the rasping of the infected mechanics.

After running for a good fifteen minutes, Markus came to a stop, panting. Nothing to panic about. Six mechanics against the rest of unit 48. At that moment, Markus heard an agonized scream. Worried, he ran towards it. As he did, he heard a multitude of similar screams, echoing in from other corridors. A medic lay prone on the floor. As Markus watched, she slowly got up. “You alright?” Markus inquired. The medic nodded, then doubled over like she was vomiting. Markus took a couple steps forward, then stopped in horror. When the medic raised her head, there were those mandibles made of jaws that split apart. Markus ran off again, screaming. He took a right. No…no…more zombie medics. As Markus ran, the medics chasing him, he turned a corner and saw a dead end. A terrified shriek escaped his mouth as Markus realized there was nowhere left to run. The medics, along with the other mechanics and a few other infected people, came at him. Markus did a quick count of the medics. 12 of them. All the medics were infected. The infected ones surges toward him, mouths open and biting him apart. Blood poured from Markus, and as they ate his flesh, he had a last revelation. “Oh. That’s why they got the medics first…so that there’d be no one to save the rest of us.”

Part 4: DTV Vincent

Chaos. Disorder. Fear. Those were all things detective Vincent woke up to. He lay staring at the white roof, wondering how he got here. This was unit 48, for sure, but something was up. It would never be this quiet in unit 48. Also, the medic wouldn’t just leave their post by Vincent’s bedside. Vincent swung his legs off the side of the medical bed, bracing for a migraine. It never came. Vincent sighed with relief. At least that was out of the way. Vincent walked silently out into the corridor. No one there. Not even a bench had anyone sitting on it. The silence was almost eerie. Vincent decided that communication with another unit, preferably #24, would be paramount. As he made his way to the computer bank, he heard the familiar whirring of the machines. However, it was deafening in this new silence. Also intertwined with the whirr, came raspy sounds of voices. As Vincent got closer, he heard words.

“Total thisss placccce. Allow no communication to thiss unit,” a voice rasped.

“Won’t we make too much noissse? Not everyone isss infected,” another voice argued.

Vincent’s heart thumped like an earthquake. Something was very wrong about those rasping voices. He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts by a loud crash, the cross between glass breaking and a hammer bashing metal. A moment later “hope that wasssn’t too loud”. Vincent peeked into the room, and almost gasped. There, in the computer bank, were two people. Both were engineers, but their jaws…their jaws were split open, resembling mandibles. A cold fist gripped Vincent. These two had probably been exposed to the mutant insects he’d brought back. They were cutting off communication so as to leave the other units ignorant about the impending apocalypse.

Vincent ran quietly down the hall. As he went, the lighting grew dimmer, until he reached an older part of the building. He opened a door, which, thank god, didn’t creak. Inside was a staircase that went down into darkness. Vincent lit a match, and walked calmly down the steps. He’s been here multiple times. The inventory was full of weapons, ranging from knives to RPG’s. Vincent picked up a fast reloading serum blaster, and tiptoed back up the stairs. Once back at the medical sector, he loaded the serum bullets with an antidote labeled BUG-148. Before he passed out, Vincent had witnessed the injection of this serum on an insect. The insect had lost all mutations, and returned to being an innocent little bug…which had died five seconds after, given that the mutation had kept it alive for decades. After loading up, Vincent ran out of the medical sector, rounded a corner…and was met with seven infected engineers. Vincent had already had a half-baked plan, and followed through with it. He threw his gun at the infected engineers. It bounced off one of them, who hissed angrily. This bought Vincent just enough time to spring back to the dark inventory room, and grab some extra weaponry. The banging on the door upstairs grew louder as more people piled on it. They were blown back as two unloaded RPG’s blew them away. Vincent discarded one of the two, and loaded the other. Attached to the grenade that was about to be launched were two dozen of the antidote bullets. As more and more infected ones came, Vincent became sure that the entire unit had come. He took a deep breath, and fired at the flooring in the middle of the throng. The grenade exploded, evaporating the antidote. The gas puffed out, entering the nostrils of the people. They rasped and screeched, insects swarming out from mouths, nostrils, and ear holes. Vincent still saw mandibles, and fired another antidote grenade. Another bout of screaming, and another wave of bugs were the result. At last, the members of Unit 48 recovered. The insects all swarmed out. The crew followed. The now normal insects swarmed out the doors and windows, as the crew cheered. At that moment, a voice from the computer bank radio came in. “This is unit 24, do you read?”. Vincent smiled.

“Unit 48, reading you loud and clear”.