Mark could now clearly see Beth as she turned to run, with the shadow of the dogs at her heels. Sensing victory, he leapt forward and attempted to jump the fallen Wattle tree that had tripped Beth moments earlier. It was difficult to judge distance in the gloom and he also stumbled and fell to the ground. The impact of the fall caused his headlamp to flicker back on. He now had a definite advantage.
As he stood up, he noticed a soft background murmur that seemed to be getting louder. It was now quite a distinct humming noise. Mark was almost to his feet when he saw insects flying towards the beam of his lamp. Imagining them to be moths, he swatted them away from his face with the short coil of rope he held. The peculiar buzzing noise grew louder again. Suddenly he felt an intense burning sensation on his hands and up and down his arms.
Shocked and confused, he lost his balance and crashed awkwardly back to the ground. Trying to remain calm, he shone the beam of his torch onto his arms, in an attempt to identify the cause of his pain. Wasps. A second nest was concealed on the edge of the gully. It had entirely escaped Beth’s notice. Dozens of European wasps crawled over his body and exposed limbs. A shriek of pure horror escaped his lips. Desperately he tried to ignore the pain and climb to his feet, but they were swarming so thickly now, attracted by the lamp and flying directly at his face.
Wasp stings hurt. Painfulness, rather than toxicity, is the most immediately useful way for stinging insects to defend themselves and their nests. If Mark had, despite the pain, doggedly moved away from the nest, he might have escaped. But this scenario ignores the psychological effect, the almost uncontrollable terror that accompanies such a mass attack. Mark’s fear was so acute that he lost the ability to reason. He tried to defend himself against them. A hopeless task.
Mark shared the characteristic attitude of most people towards insects; ignorance about them, fear and dislike of them, and a desire to kill them on sight. He also vastly underestimated the extent of the danger he was in. Mark was unaware of a certain fascinating evolution in European wasp behaviour since their arrival in Austalia’s mild climate. Some nests were known to overwinter, not declining and dying in the autumn, but instead continuing to grow. Unfortunately he had chanced upon such a super nest. Unchecked by the advance of the previous winter, it had continued to develop, constantly producing fertile queens and drones throughout the colder months. Demonstrating amazing adaptability, not all the young queens sought fresh territories. Many remained within the nest, cooperatively reproducing and contributing to a vast population of wasps. This one perennial nest alone contained a staggering one hundred and twenty thousand workers, more than two hundred functional queens, and measured over a metre in circumference. Mark’s violent swatting merely served to further enrage the insects, and the bright torch light, for which he was so ignorantly grateful, only served to attract them to his vulnerable head. As the sheer volume of wasps and agonising stings grew, he threw himself forward onto the ground in a vain attempt to shield his face. Desperately he tried to protect his mouth and eyes.
Wasp venoms produce prolonged pain and swelling caused by damage to the blood vessels under the skin. Additionally, they attack muscle. Peptides such as serotonin and histamine work on the nerves, acting as major pain-producing agents. Their venom is also full of allergens and neurotoxins. Not only are these compounds responsible for the tortured burning sensation of the skin, but also for the fatal systemic reactions that can follow. The body responds to the envenomation not just at the sting location, but at other areas remote from the sting site. Cutaneous reactions affect the skin, causing ugly swellings, hives and rashes on the face, neck and the palms of the hands. Vascular reactions involve the circulatory system, with massive leakage from veins and arteries and a consequential drop in blood pressure. This leads to dizziness and fainting. Respiratory reactions cause swellings and an enormous build-up of fluids in the lungs. This is followed by difficulty in breathing, sneezing, constrictions in the throat and chest, and frothing at the mouth. These reactions are quite terrifying to the individual, who perceives that they are about to suffocate. As the symptoms intensify, the victim also experiences cramps, diarrhoea, nausea, vomiting and finally loss of consciousness.
Mark was in serious trouble. His entire body felt like it was being pierced by razor-sharp, red-hot skewers, and the more he writhed around, the more he exposed himself to the excruciating assault. Within minutes his body began to convulse in an unbearable agony and, forgetting to protect his face, he let out scream upon anguished scream. Instantly the wasps advanced. Climbing into his mouth, they stung his sensitive tongue again and again, before clambering further down his throat and attacking his tonsils. Others crawled beneath his eyelids.
Mark’s tormented screaming lessened, and his body went limp as the tremendous physical shock set in. Breathing now became very difficult, as his throat swelled to a massive size, blocking his airways. His face turned blue and, mercifully, he lapsed into unconsciousness. The sheer volume of venom in his system was now of itself fatal. Mark had endured over two thousand stings, and still more wasps continued to pour from the nest. His body spasmed one more time and his heart failed. Mark was dead.
As Beth turned to run, she heard Mark’s first ear-shattering shriek. Despite her panic, the sound seemed to root her irresistibly to the ground. The bloodcurdling screams continued unabated, and for a little while Beth was too terrified to turn and face in the direction of the noise. The dogs went strangely quiet and lay whimpering at her feet.
In was many minutes before Beth plucked up the courage to even turn around. The first thing she noticed was the glow of the torchlight from behind the fallen Wattle log. For a fleeting moment, she thought that maybe the frightful screaming was a bizarre ploy to trap her. But she soon dismissed this notion. Such hideous cries could surely only be made by someone in genuine agony. Whatever could be happening to Mark? Dell licked her hand. The dogs began to tremble as the tortured shrieks continued. Beth curled up on the ground with them, covering her ears in an attempt to block out the nightmarish sounds. After what seemed like an eternity, the screams disintegrated into a sort of anguished, choking gurgle that was almost more disturbing. Abruptly the sound ceased.
For several minutes Beth remained on the ground in the foetal position, afraid to move. Eventually she unfolded herself and dared a glance back at the fallen tree. The faint glow of torchlight illuminated an odd golden mist, hovering halo-like around the Wattle log. After several more minutes Beth stood up. The dogs stayed cowered on the ground at her feet, reluctant to move. Clouds scudded sullenly across the sky, revealing the round, bright moon and a slice of stars. Taking a deep breath, Beth stretched her aching limbs and tiptoed from her hiding place in the trees. Cautiously, she inched her way towards the lamplight. As she drew closer, a familiar, low, buzzing drone grew ever louder, and she was hit by a sickening comprehension.
Now she stood directly before the fallen trunk. Mark’s life-less form lay on the other side. Swarming all over his body were thousands of European wasps. They were particularly thick around his head, attracted to the light from the headlamp that had, unfortunately for Mark, flicked on when he stumbled over the tree. The unfiltered beam from the torch acted as a magnet for the insects, who had already been disturbed by Beth and the dogs minutes before. They crawled over his massively swollen face and up his nose, pheromone-driven to sting even after their victim was dead. Mark’s eyes bulged grotesquely. His mouth, wide open as if still gasping for air, was filled with a crawling mass of angry wasps. Beth stood in awe, as more and more insects emerged from the colony entrance underneath the fallen wattle. Soon Mark’s body all but disappeared beneath a seething swarm of wasps, many inches deep.
Beth did not grieve. She’d already grieved. Mark had somehow cheated death but not for long. Her exhausted emotions struggled to rise to the occasion. Horror, sorrow, astonishment; they vied wearily for preeminence. However in the end, simple relief won out. The glorious, full, summer moon now sailed high in a sky free of clouds, illuminating the bushland with its friendly light. Gazing upwards Beth felt a deep sense of comfort and protection. Whispering her grateful thanks to the sacred night, and guided by the gentle moon, she began her long trek home.