Marlo considers this, then nods.
“Alright, for real this time,” I instruct. “Follow me.”
“Mom,” Marlo murmurs, still frozen. Her gaze has drifted over my shoulder and she wears an expression of genuine shock. “What’s that?”
My blood runs cold. I turn my head, charting her sight line through our floor-to-ceiling windows and into the courtyard. The pink cloud gives my pool’s turquoise glow a strange, sickening tint, and this new hue casts upward along the outer walls.
There, some ten feet up and tucked away in the shadows, is Eddie, the massive insect positioned sideways against the wall but unbothered by gravity’s pull. Heperches with his six pointy legs, resting just as casually as he would on land. Eddie’s four muscular tentacles writhe slowly around him, constantly rippling with movement as they snake through the air and inspect their surroundings. He’s pumping out an extra helping of the pink dust, sparkling fog billowing from the cracks of his carapace and drifting through the night.
“Oh fuck,” I blurt, profanity filter still disengaged as sheer panic overtakes all brain function.
I immediately spring into action, backing up, grabbing my companions, and pulling them into the darkness of the kitchen.
“Here,” I whisper, dropping down behind the countertop island.
I’m not sure if Eddie noticed us, but lighting is on our side. The kitchen is bathed in shadow, and out by the pool he’s got plenty of illumination to deal with as it bounces off the glass. Still, he’s been seeing things just fine tonight through those dark sunglasses—and with only one eye, potentially helped by some otherworldly biology that I’m unaware of. It doesn’t bode well for our chances.
Marlo, Noah, and I sit in utter stillness, our backs pressed against the island. I can sense Noah staring at me, so I turn my head to meet his gaze. He says nothing, but his expression of dumbfounded terror and confusion says it all.
He believes.
I nod to the side, directing Noah to the reflective cabinets in front of us. This wall of drawers and cupboardshas a metallic sheen, the light gray panels acting as a mirror that shoots back over our shoulders for a blurry view of the pool area.
Eddie is still perched up above, sitting quietly in the corner as his pheromones spill forth in wave after noxious wave.
“Can either of you smell anything?” I whisper. “Buttered popcorn?”
Marlo and Noah shake their heads.
“Good,” I say. “Keep those clips on tight.”
“Where’s yours?” Noah asks, reaching up and tapping his nose.
“I melted a whole candle into my sinuses,” I whisper. “I’m good.”
“Oh, right. Obviously,” Noah deadpans.
The haze is everywhere, creeping its way through all the cracks and structural imperfections. The AC units here in Palm Springs are the mightiest you’ll ever see, but when something gets inside one, it circulates quickly.
“What’s it waiting for?” Noah murmurs under his breath.
Right on cue, Eddie scuttles across the wall. I watch in the blurry cabinet reflection, charting the massive insect’s course as he disappears over the roof’s edge and into the darkness.
“I think he’s heading to the other side of the house,” I whisper.
I start to get up, but three loud knocks stop me in my tracks.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
We freeze, listening closely.
A familiar voice rings out, calling through the front door. It’s muffled, and in the din of a normal day it might be hard to understand what she’s saying, but here in the dead silence of the evening I can make out every word.
“Marlo! Are you in there?” our neighbor, Alison, calls out. “Your mom wanted me to come over and check on you.”
Thump! Thump! Thump!
She knocks again. “Hello?” she chirps with a distinct singsong cadence. “Wakey-wakey! Just checking in on you for Poppy, making sure everything’s okay.”
