I stood from the armchair, stretched, and pulled on my mask.  I bent down to pick up my mug, then headed downstairs to check on Sierra.  She was still sleeping, but I’d known that. 

Did you have bugs on her?

I’d felt secure about removing my mask only because I had bugs on the girl, to keep track of her.  I’d know the second she stirred.

Of course she did. Not sure why I even wondered about the security of taking off her mask. I really should’ve predicted this.

I went into the kitchen before sending a text to Coil:

Merchant burn victim & other wounded near Sandstone & Harney.  Send medic?

How thoughtful. Plus, helping them out like this could be a bit of salt on the wound. “Hey, I trounced you completely and with ease. Have some medics to help you get over your crushing defeat at my hands.”

No use having the woman die from any complications from her injuries.  Besides, maybe he could get her to offer up information in exchange for her freedom.

Well, this too.

The human shapes were less efficient than a regular swarm, but I imagined the psychological effect was that much greater.

Oh, absolutely. Not much quite like fighting humanoids made out of bugs to give you nightmares.

A swarm of bugs was something you could encounter any day.  An uncannily human figure that you couldn’t hurt with any conventional weapon, who threatened incredible pain if it got close enough?  It was something my enemies would remember, and it was something they could tell others about.

Yeah, sounds about right.

I gathered the swarm into a figure that stood next to the woman with the burned feet and her friend.  I drew more and more bugs into the swarm, bloating it and drawing it up to the point where I couldn’t make it any larger, without the bottom half giving way.

I gauged it to be somewhere close to twelve feet in height.

“You gonna keep trying to fuck with us, pal?”

Then I let it fall on top of them.  That polished off group two.

Niiice.

One of her friends finally stepped forward to help her, grabbing her under the armpits and dragging her ten feet down the road to a spot where more water had collected.

Case in point.

Together, they worked to put out the flames, dousing her bundled jeans into the water.  I could maybe have stopped him, driven him away, but my interest was more on spooking them than causing grievous physical harm.

Yeah, that’s fair.

I wouldn’t lose much sleep over burning her with the things she’d intended to use on others, but I wouldn’t stop her from putting herself out.

It’s more about doing it in the first place.

Apparently seeing the woman get set on fire by the swarm had done its job in unnerving my enemies.  The group scattered, and I let them run.

See ya! Maybe soon, if Taylor’s as kind to you as she was to the guy from the eight-person group.

One by one, I took them down by creating the human shaped swarms and then attacking them.  Some fought, others ran, but each of the Merchants succumbed eventually, choking on the bugs or losing all self-control in the face of the pain the attacking swarm inflicted.

Excellent work, Skitter. 🙂

A beetle fluttered forward and touched a match to her jeans.  In an instant, the bundle of cloth at her feet was on fire.

Aaand that’s gonna hurt.

Nice.

She tried to pat it out, but her efforts to remove her shoes had gotten trace amounts of gasoline on her hands.  

Welp.

Her right hand ignited, the insects on it dying, and she threw herself to one side to thrust it into a hole in the road where water had collected, her feet still kicking as she tried to remove her jeans.

At least this happened to her at a time where you can’t move ten feet without getting wet.

Gasoline transferred to the water’s surface and flickered with the faintest of flames.

Smoooke on the waaater! Dun dun dun, dundun dun-dun…

I could picture it.  It would be intimidating:  A sea of bugs acting with a backing of human intelligence, each with their tiny torches.

It’d be scary enough without the distinct sense that the bugs are operating with human intent to hurt you.

Doubly intimidating if a swarm of bugs had made you drop and spill a can of gasoline onto your shoes and the cuffs of your pant legs.

Ahhhh.

Yeah, alright, might wanna take those shoes and pants off.

She successfully undid her belt, then began trying to remove the tight-fitting jeans she wore.  The woman got as far as getting her jeans around her ankles before she got stuck.  Some beetles and roaches took to the air, carrying matches to the ground behind her, cutting off her retreat.  

Really wish you’d worn sports pants, don’tcha.

She screamed at the others in her group, but nobody leaped to her assistance.

Alright, not just her. Got it.

It was a shame it was closer to noon than midnight.  I imagined the effect would have been even more exaggerated in the darkness.

That would’ve been really cool.

The woman stepped away, pulling off one of her wet shoes.  She threw it at the bugs, and it rolled over a few.  A heartbeat later, it burst violently into flame.  It didn’t make a difference.

Nice try, at least.

The swarm that was armed with matches was already too spread out for one shoe and one small fire to slow them down at all. 

Gonna have to try a little harder.

The woman’s attempts to remove her other shoe made her fall over, and she suppressed a grunt of pain as she landed.

First time didn’t work, so you go through the trouble of trying the other one? Sounds like you don’t have a lot of options.

Soo… now I’m questioning whether or not we’re back to the Merchants, again. Is it just this woman right now? Did we perhaps skip Taylor dealing with the rest of the 24-person group?

She successfully kicked off her other shoe, and then began simultaneously fumbling with her belt while trying to crab-walk backwards away from the advancing sea of tiny flames.

Ahh, I see, she’s figured out that shoes are too small, so she’s taking off her other shoe so she can get access to her pants.

I’m not sure baring the skin of her legs while being attacked by bugs is a good idea, but using the larger pants makes a whole lot more sense than the other shoe.

It took me three tries.

On the third attempt, the beetle, supported by others and a crack in the pavement, successfully struck the match against the side of the box as the other bugs adjusted its position.  A small flame flared at the end.

Um. Wow.

What are you using this match for? Gonna set fire to the rain the Merchants? Or maybe we aren’t going back to the second group after all.

Other bugs leveraged matches out of the box the woman had dropped, gripping the matches in their mandibles, sometimes two or three bugs to one match.  Like a relay, they touched one match to another, passing on the flame from the beetle’s match to each of the others.

How fitting that I’d read about this on the starting day of the Olympics.

It wasn’t long before there were more than thirty beetles each with a lit match in its mandibles.  Some died from the heat their own matches generated, but most were able to stand it.

Damn, nice.

I could imagine the visual of it; kind of like a small sea of tiny flames like lighters at a concert.  Or maybe it was closer to a lynch mob, a crowd holding torches, radiating with an imminent threat of violence.

Hm, it does sound like we’re back to the Merchant fight – I don’t remember anyone dropping a box of matches when I read the first part four days ago, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Or it might’ve happened offscreen while we were flashbacking.

Hoiwdla! Let’s get back to Taylor’s defense against the Merchants entering her territory!

Quietly, I set the serving tray down on one of the luggage trunks at one corner of the room, collected my own tea and went upstairs to the second floor.

And we’ve come full circle.

■

Aaand it’s time to deal with the second group, isn’t it?