Chapter 145 – Plumbing the Depths

  “Okay,” I said, squinting up at the rust-streaked water tower, “you’re going to have to walk me through this one, because all I’m seeing is an excuse for tetanus.”

  Clay gave a snort, clearly amused. “No faith at all. I’m hurt.”

  Kara, who had apparently decided she couldn’t let us go adventuring unsupervised after all, rolled her eyes. “He was talking about messing with that thing since you guys got back from KingsHaven. I figured it was only a matter of time.”

  “Spotted it on the way down, and it looked like a good resource. To be fair, though,” Clay said, “I didn’t think we’d be using it to flood a bunch of ants. But hey—first time for everything.”

  We were standing at the base of the tower now, gazing up at the tank perched high above. It was one of those old municipal style jobs, all metal and rivets and peeling paint. The supports creaked faintly in the wind, but it looked stable enough. Mostly, anyway. I made a mental note to not stand directly under it longer than I had to.

  “So,” I said slowly, “we’re going to…what? Hook it up to a pipe and spray the ants to death?”

  “Not spray,” Clay corrected. “Flood. We run a pipe down from the tank, connect enough extension to reach the nest, and let gravity do the rest. The tank’s already full, or close to it—I checked. Water pressure from that height should be enough to blast through whatever’s down there.”

  That made more sense. It was still a little nuts, but ‘a little nuts’ had been our brand lately.

  “You really think this is going to work?” Kara asked, arms crossed.

  “I’m open to other ideas,” Clay said, “But those ant tunnels are small. I doubt I’d even fit, so it’ll be up to smaller folks like you and Selena to go down into the dark and handle the ants personally, if this doesn’t work.”

  Kara grimaced. “Suddenly, I’m all for this idea!”

  We got to work gathering what we needed from a local hardware store: lengths of PVC pipe, duct tape, old PVC pipe fittings, and more than a few jury-rigged connections that Clay swore would hold just fine. I had my doubts, but hey—I’d already fought a dragon this week. I figured I could handle being an apprentice plumber for a day.

  “Just so we’re clear,” I said as I jammed two stubborn pipe segments together with more force than finesse, “if this thing explodes and showers us all with rusty water, I’m blaming you.”

  “Duly noted,” Clay said, grinning. “Now hand me that wrench.”

  We spent the next hour hauling pipe segments down the road and out to the ant nest. Well, my zombies did most of the hauling, to be fair. Having free labor running around was a big help.

  The hardware store had been a treasure trove, and between that and some stuff we’d grabbed from the mall, we had more than enough pipe to reach the mound. I was honestly impressed. I hadn’t expected this to come together so smoothly. Once we had the first twenty feet of pipe laid in a straight line, Clay climbed the rickety access ladder up the water tower with a thick hose slung across his back. I was pretty sure he’d grabbed it from a fire truck or something; that’s the sort of hose I was looking at, anyway.

  Kara and I tried not to look up too often. Every groan of steel sent a spike of anxiety through my gut. But he made it. Clay got the hose connected to the drain valve, secured it with a clamp and enough tape to impress a doomsday prepper, then tested the valve. A small burst of water hissed inside the line, and he quickly shut it off before it showered us all.

  From there, most of the rest was easy. We worked fast, unrolling duct tape, clicking segments into place, reinforcing joints with salvaged couplings. The whole setup looked like something MacGyver might’ve slapped together in a fever dream, but it held. The pipe was four inches wide and stretched almost forty yards from the base of the tower to the outer edge of the birch grove.

  The nest itself hadn’t changed—still a big, dome-shaped mound of sandy soil with that narrow entry hole up top. But the chicken? That was a different story.

  Where once there had been a mountain of rotting kaiju meat, there was now little more than a skeletal heap, rib bones jutting skyward like the broken fingers of a buried god. The ants had done their work with terrifying speed and efficiency. Most of the meat was simply gone, carried off in chunks to feed whatever lay inside that nest.

  “Well,” Kara said, eyeing the remains, “at least we don’t need to worry about stripping the chicken. The ants did a great job for us.”

  “I’m thinking about what would’ve happened if that thing had died closer to the farm,” I added. “These bugs are not messing around.”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Clay crouched near the pipe’s end, adjusting its angle to aim the nozzle directly at the ant mound’s main entrance. “Almost done. Just need to stabilize this. You want to give it a go now?”

  “Not yet,” I said, looking at the steady stream of ants still marching in and out of the nest. “If we just open it now, we’re going to have a wave of angry bugs, and I’d rather not get buried under a six-legged swarm.”

  “Fair,” Kara said. “What’s the plan, then?”

  “I’m bringing backup.”

  I sent out the call with a thought, and within minutes I could hear the telltale thudding of heavy footsteps behind us. Sue came first, her skeletal tail sweeping through the grass as she clacked toward us on massive bony limbs. She gave me a low, approving growl as she arrived. Hope followed close behind, her hollow eye sockets blazing faint green. She ran up to me right away and jumped a few times, excited.

  “Yes, I’m glad to see you too,” I told my skeleton pup.

  Behind them came the Abominations. I ordered all twelve to come. They looked like something out of a nightmare, which, frankly, they were. But they were my nightmares. Loyal, obedient, and terrifying.

  “Okay,” I said as they formed up around us in a wide semicircle. “Kara, you up to turning on the water at the tower?”

  “Climbing that ladder of doom?” Kara asked.

  “The alternative is to have Clay climb the ladder while you face the ants.”

  “Ladder climbing is a go!” Kara said, grinning. “Seriously, I can handle ants, but I weigh less, and I think my Agility is better than Clay’s, too. I’m the sensible person.”

  “Mmm. Technically, Selena would be the right call. She can fly up, turn on the water, and fly back,” Clay pointed out.

  Shit, he was right. I wanted to be in the thick of things where I could protect my friends if anything went wrong, but that wasn’t always the best way to do something. In this case, I was actually increasing their risk if I sent them up that ladder instead of flying up myself. If it fell off, they’d end up badly hurt at best. That was no worry for me.

  “Good point,” I said. “Okay, change of plans. I’ll fly up and turn on the water. You two stay here and when the water comes out, use the pipe like a hose to push the ants away from the nest, then climb that mound and aim the pipe down into the hole. Once it’s in there, just back up again. It should flood the nest without any additional work on our part.”

  Clay looked up from the pipe. “Simple plan. I like it.”

  “Simple doesn’t mean easy,” Kara muttered. “Alright. Let’s get into position.”

  We moved slowly into the grove, positioning Sue and the Abominations just downhill from the nest, facing the ant mound. Hope stayed to one side. Kara took a place near me, blade in hand. Clay crouched beside the pipe’s nozzle, gave it one last tug, and nodded up toward the tower.

  “Ready when you are,” he said.

  “Let’s see what happens when you flush an ant hill the size of a barn,” I said, then activated my Flight power and took off toward the water tower.

  The water tower loomed ahead, tall and rust-streaked. I hovered as I neared the valve, slowing enough to give it a proper look. Clay had done good work—seriously, where had he learned plumbing when he was a career Air Force soldier? The hose was clamped into place with a pair of heavy-duty brackets and duct-taped for good measure. It looked like hell, but it held. I tugged once, just to be sure, then twisted the main valve open with both hands.

  A low groan echoed from the pipe as the water surged into motion. The whole contraption wobbled faintly, and for a second I thought the hose was going to blow right off, but the clamps held. Mostly, anyway—a thin stream of water sprayed sideways from one of the joints, hissing out like a garden sprinkler, but the rest of the flow pushed through the hose and into the pipe. I grinned.

  “Close enough,” I muttered, then pivoted midair and shot back toward the trees and my friends. When that water hit the nest, they were going to have a lot of pissed-off ants on their hands, and I wanted to be there to help.

  The water was roaring through the pipe now, a constant whoosh that echoed down the makeshift line. When I cleared the last row of birches, I saw that Clay and Kara were already climbing the side of the ant mound, the pipe clutched between them like an active firehose. They’d rigged a ninety-degree elbow joint onto the end. It gave them a way to angle the water straight down into the nest.

  I sped through the air, fast as I could, making a beeline for the nest so I could assist them, because they needed it. Ants the size of house cats were surging out of the entrance, mandibles clacking as they tried to push the intruders back. The water from the pipe kept them mostly at bay, spraying in short bursts as Clay and Kara adjusted their footing on the slope. But some ants had gotten around the flow, attacking from the sides. One leapt at Kara’s leg, biting down hard enough to tear through her pants.

  She screamed and kicked it off, blood staining the fabric just above her calf.

  “Oh, hell no,” I muttered, and raised my hand.

  My Drain Life spell slammed into the attacker mid-scurry, wrenching its energy straight out of its twitching body. It dropped like a rock, and I felt the stolen health pulsed through me.

  “Thanks!” Kara shouted, stabbing another that got too close. She had her sword in one hand and the pipe in the other.

  I dropped to the ground just behind the front line, calling to Sue and the Abominations. “Go!” I pointed at the swarm. “Clear them out!”

  Sue roared and charged forward, bone tail whipping side to side like a scythe, sending ants flying. The Abominations lumbered in behind her, huge, hulking, and brutal. Their blows crushed carapace and scattered legs.

  Clay gave me a nod, then redoubled his efforts with Kara. They made it to the hole, shoving ants aside with the pipe and their boots. A few clung to their clothes, biting and clawing, but I stepped in with my blade, slicing one cleanly in half as it lunged at Clay’s side. My sword hissed through the ant’s shell, spraying ant goo across the dirt. Clay jammed the pipe down into the mound’s entrance, bracing it with both hands. Water thundered into the opening with a gurgling rush.

  “Pull back!” I shouted, and we all did—Clay first, then Kara, then the rest of us in a rough, fast-moving retreat, undead stomping through the squirming remains of the ants to keep them from chasing us.

  The pipe stayed in place, trembling from the force of the flow, but holding. Water was pouring into the nest now like a burst dam, vanishing down into the dark, and I didn’t need a crystal ball to tell me the ants were not going to enjoy what came next.