Survivors
By Howie Snider
()
About this ebook
Howie Snider
Insects fascinated Howie SNIDER when he and his late wife, Judy, were avid gardeners and bird-watchers at their Muncie, Indiana home, where they raised eight children. Passionate about reading and writing, Howie began creating children’s books for his 26 grandchildren in the 1990s. A retired Marine Corps officer, award-winning college instructor, and restaurant owner, Howie still enjoys traveling with family in the motor home he and his wife enjoyed until her death in 2007. Howie’s family was featured in the 1982 Middletown film and recently released DVD, Family Business. This is his first novel.
Related to Survivors
Related ebooks
Strange Red Ground (English Version) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Speech of Animals: A Novella About Animals Talking Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsStories for Around the Campfire Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsA Dinosaur in Antarctica: Min Finds Paradise Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPhilippine Folk-Tales Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsShort Stories for Short on Time People Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Freedom Artist Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The book of Hanni Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Shaman’S Daughter Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsT. E. U. Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Alien Artefact from the Andes: A historical-fantastic narrative Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsMagic Moments as Paths Cross Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLost Times, Times Lost Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsCharlie Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThree Short Stories About Kindness: One Hundred Bedtime Stories, #1 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThree Short Stories About Kindness Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSchilling: From a Study in Lost Time Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsNight Philosophy Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Selfish Seventh, the Creepy Sixth Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsAncient Man The Beginning of Civilizations Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Lydia Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Marijuana Theory Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsLost in the Jungle Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Atlantean Chronicles Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Cave Twins Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Bungee and Kidogo Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsSpace Fiction Stories Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe Voyages of Doctor Doolittle Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsInklings Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsThe List of Things Bought: Volume I Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
Action & Adventure Fiction For You
Murder Your Employer: The McMasters Guide to Homicide Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Huckleberry Finn Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Summary The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue: by V.E. Schwab - A Comprehensive Summary Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Once Upon a Time in Hollywood: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Learn German! Lerne Englisch! ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND: In German and English Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Count of Monte Cristo Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Hour of the Assassin: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Last Kingdom Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Wool: Book One of the Silo Series Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Swamp Story: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Billy Summers Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Serpent: A Novel from the NUMA files Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Outlawed Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Dust: Book Three of the Silo Series Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Most Dangerous Game Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Grace of Kings Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Leave the World Behind: A Read with Jenna Pick Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Darkness That Comes Before Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Shift: Book Two of the Silo Series Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Termination Shock: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The End of the World Running Club Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Golden Notebook: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Great St Mary's Day Out: A Chronicles of St Mary's Short Story Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Postman Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Bean Trees: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Learn Italian! Impara l'Inglese! ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND: In Italian and English Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Three Fates Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Shantaram: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
Related categories
Reviews for Survivors
0 ratings0 reviews
Book preview
Survivors - Howie Snider
© 2012 Howie Snider. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 03/30/2012
ISBN: 978-1-4490-2010-1 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4490-2011-8 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4567-6393-0 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2011916278
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Kingdom Atlas
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Epilogue
Dedication
I dedicate this book to my late wife, Judy, who supported me in everything I did.
I also dedicate it to my son, Leslie, who believed this book should be published, and to my son, Lyn, who designed the cover.
I also dedicate it to my son, Lee, for his critical review, and my grandson, Caleb New, who told me to keep writing.
But a special dedication to my daughter, Liz, whose thorough editing improved this work.
Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory there is no survival.
— Winston Churchill (May 13, 1940)
Kingdom Atlas
Eastern Hymenoptera
Ruler: Queen En
Residents: Brown ants
Western Hymenoptera
Ruler: Holak
Residents: Carpenter ants
Northern Hymenoptera
Ruler: Queen Sola
Residents: Fire ants
Coleoptera
Ruler: Emperor Dume
Residents: Beetles
Hemiptera
Ruler: Unknown
Residents: True bugs
Odonata
Ruler: Unknown
Residents: Dragonflies
Lepidoptera
Ruler: Unknown
Residents: Butterflies
Isoptera
Ruler: Queen Woda
Residents: Termites
Aranea
Ruler: King Spitz
Residents: Spiders
Mantodea
Ruler: Queen Ophia
Residents: Mantises
Orthoptera
Ruler: King Hopher
Residents: Grasshoppers and crickets
Blattodea
Ruler: Unknown
Residents: Cockroaches
Prologue
In the Beginning
The eighty-year-old man still kept his diary, even though he realized it was likely that no one would ever read it. If, however, someone should read it, what difference would it make? His personal information wasn’t of much interest, and his entries concerning the world around him were of such stuff that was common knowledge. Times were bad and getting worse, much worse. There were reports of wars everywhere. Natural resources were diminishing and soon would be gone. Global warming had increased and so had the number and severity of natural disasters. Pestilence and disease were doing their deadly thing. The world is coming to an end, he thought. We have caused our own extinction.
He sat in the messy kitchen of a small house on the northern outskirts of a city that had once been home to a thriving university. He had taught at the university and had become a noted expert on environmental issues. Unfortunately, however, his opinions, though talked about, were never taken seriously enough until it was too late to avoid what was happening to the world.
It’s awful,
he said aloud, as he opened the diary. I told them this would happen. What a shame.
His voice caused a stir of activity. A group of ants came into the kitchen and watched the old man.
He was mildly delirious as he nervously wrote the daily information into the diary, commenting haphazardly on the conditions of the deserted neighborhood. Twice, he looked up with a strained look on his face. He finished the entry with a note that he wasn’t feeling well. He closed the diary, took a deep breath, and stood. A very large ant was crossing the kitchen floor. He saw it and tried to stomp it, but the ant was too quick and quickly crawled behind the main cabinet. The others scurried off. Where do they come from? the old man thought.
The ants had listened carefully. In the past decade, their tympanal hearing had begun a slow evolution. They were memorizing human sounds and what they meant. It was very slow using their antennae to convey this information to other ants, but convey it they did.
Other higher species of insects and spiders were in the same evolution, developing their hearing and memory. Already, their increased awareness of human language had kept many of them from being eliminated. And they were learning more about the world and what was happening to it. The ant behind the cabinet, however, was far superior to the others. Using the language he was learning, he verbalized unto himself: Give … us … time. Then he tried saying it by moving his labia like human lips, but he wasn’t successful. Give … me … time.
The old man looked out the kitchen window. The sun was sinking fast. He went to the front door and went outside to watch the sunset. As he wearily sat down in the dilapidated plastic chair, he glanced down the deserted street that was filled with rusting old automobiles. No more deliveries, he thought. That announcement haunted him. No more deliveries. That’s why they left. That and the polluted river. Well, I’m gonna stay right here. This has been my home for fifty years. As for going someplace else, who says it’s going to be any better? The delivery guy from the church said supplies were low and that they had lost another horse. Sounds to me that things have sure gotten worse.
Over a period of time, the old man had hoarded food supplies and things like matches, flashlight batteries, and candles. He was catching rain in a bucket, but it hadn’t rained for several weeks. Since the loss of utilities, he was using the candles. He knew he would eventually run out of them, but he would stay here, learning how to live much of his life in darkness.
The sun was now rapidly sinking below the horizon. He watched it for another minute, marveling again at its beauty, then went inside. In the kitchen, he lit a candle, unaware that the ant had emerged from its hiding space and was watching him. As was often the case, the old man started singing as he went to the pantry to get food for his supper: Show me the way to go home. I’m tired and I want to go to bed.
The ant listened to the words of the song, trying to make some sense of them. It was the first time he had focused on music.
The man opened a can of vegetable soup. He took it to the back porch, where he started a small fire in the remains of an outdoor cooker, using small chips of wood that he had gathered from the back of his property. The ant followed him, watching the old man heat the soup in a small pot. Fire, the ant thought. Fire.
When the old man had eaten, he went back inside, followed by the ant. He locked the door, went to the front and locked that door. It was a habit. He never expected anyone would try to break in. He took the lit candle to his bedroom, extinguished it, and climbed into bed. He heard the rain starting and then the thunder. He shook his head and smiled. Then he began to sing Show me the way to go home.
Shortly, he was asleep. The ant went to the back door, found a crack and went onto the porch, where he found the small pot that the old man had left. He was joined by the other ants. In a few minutes, they had satisfied their hunger and were leaving. As they passed by the bedroom, they paused. There was no sound. They listened more intently. No sound. The man had stopped breathing.
The world was now entering the final years of man. Natural disasters plagued the earth. Warfare, famine, and pestilence took a mounting toll. A few primitive societies were surviving, but it would not be for long. The insects and spiders, however, were not only surviving, but were growing stronger and more intelligent. It was the beginning of the Age of Arthropods.
Chapter One
Bad News
Thorna crawled across the sandy clearing, now and then standing erect to look around for any intruders. She studied the weeds to the north and the sandy expanse to the south, then proceeded to the thinly wooded area along the bank of the great river — the Magnaqua. She went to her favorite place, a large stone just the other side of the trees. She took a deep breath and climbed to the top of it. The early morning sun was beginning to silhouette the large crumbling ruins across the river. The slowly decaying ruins were all that remained of what was once a great city inhabited by huge two-legged creatures.
Dawn was Thorna’s favorite time of the day. Few creatures were stirring, and those who were — mainly gnats, mites and flies — were not a threat. She usually was able to think without interruption. And think she did. Every morning. And always about the same subject: her own existence.
Thorna was what the large two-legged creatures had called an ant. She was dark red-brown and, though still very young, was fully developed, both physically and mentally. When standing erect, she was nearly six inches tall. Her thorax was firm; her pedicel was strong, but thin. Her military instructor called her a slim-waisted fighter.
Because of her training and careful eating, her abdomen was of moderate size.
Thorna’s intelligence delighted her teachers and made her the envy of the other members of her species, which now was one of the dominant species on the planet. We are survivors,
one of her teachers had told her. The two-legged ones tried to eliminate us with traps, poisons and mutation chemicals, but eventually succeeded only in eliminating themselves. We adapted, and we got stronger and bigger. We do have living enemies, but, so far, we have outsmarted and outfought them. We are survivors.
Adapters and survivors, Thorna thought, pondering her history teacher’s words. It’s hard to believe that we once could communicate in such limited ways. Or that we could not walk upright. Or that we could not wield weapons. She moved a claw and withdrew one of her four white daggers from its spider web sheath. She studied the dagger, admiring its beauty. Most of their weapons had been fashioned from a material found in an ancient landfill, and this one had been made by an expert. Thorna had become very proficient as a dagger warrior and was admired and envied by her fellow ants. She put the dagger back into its sheath and continued meditating. She was thinking about the ant’s ability to speak. Thorna’s language teacher had said — only half jokingly — that speech would eventually be the ants’ downfall.
Thorna smiled as she continued to reflect on her teacher’s words about insects, especially ants, being survivors. Just yesterday, she had been attacked near this very spot by a large hairy spider, a rarity in Eastern Hymenoptera. The spider had ballooned down from a nearby tree and tried to capture her in his web. He had worked feverishly to ensnare her, cursing the ant as she struggled to free herself from his web. Thorna had used all her strength to break the sturdy silken strands as they were encircling her. Then, the agile young ant darted beneath the spider and ripped open his underside with one skillful swipe of her dagger. Afterwards, she had lugged the animal home to the commissary.
Yes, Thorna thought, we are survivors, but that was a close call. I must exercise greater care.
The sun had risen above the crumbling skyline of the ancient city, and Thorna could hear the humming and buzzing of other small insects as they began their day. She looked around her to make sure she wasn’t in danger. She spotted some large flies circling a short distance away and licked her lips, hoping one would get caught in the web strands left by the spider the day before. Suddenly, her antennae quivered. She heard the frightening sound of vibrating wings and spotted the swiftly moving shadow. She looked up in time to see a huge green dragonfly diving toward her.
Whoa! she thought as she quickly grabbed one of her daggers. That’s a big one. I’d better not miss. She waited another second, then hurled the dagger with all of her strength. The dragonfly didn’t have time to change his course, and the dagger struck him between the eyes, killing him instantly. Thorna watched the would-be predator plunge to the ground. Though quivering slightly in the aftermath of the nearly fatal encounter, she smiled as she again thought of her teacher’s words about ants being survivors. Thorna was delighted that she would be able to drag some more meat to the castle, but she was puzzled. Dragonflies had not been seen in this area for ages. Where had this one come from? Was he a scout for an army, or just a lone wanderer? I’d better be wary, she thought. And I need to warn the others.
As she slowly dragged the dragonfly toward the hill, Thorna remembered an old major’s stories of combat with other species. It’s a bug-eat-bug world,
he said. "Don’t