"That's the biggest hive I've ever seen," said Simon, gazing up at the huge organic structure hanging off the barn.

"We can do this," I said. "Get ready."

"Oh, man, why do I have to be the bait?"

"Cause I was the bait last time," said Dash. "And got bitten for my troubles. Still got the scar."

"No one's getting bitten this time," I said. "Get your protective gear on now."

We wasted no time getting into the heavy canvas overalls that would protect us from the deadly bites of the creatures we were here to exterminate. And then Simon had to put the bling suit, the sequin-covered jacket and pants that were essential for attracting attention, over the protective suit. In this heat, I didn't envy him.

I'd had my turn being the bait. In Iraq.

"I feel like a giant disco ball," Simon said. I tried not to look at him directly; the little glints of light he was giving off might blind me.

"I know," I said, "but someone has to lure them out of the hive. Go get 'em while we prime the flamethrowers."

He dutifully went to do the little dance in full view of the hive. It's the silliest thing you ever saw, with a lot of butt-wiggling, but it's necessary to attract their attention. They like shiny things, but shiny things in motion drive them crazy.

While Simon did his thing, Dash and I got the flamethrowers ready. We'd taken the required safety courses, mine courtesy of Uncle Sam. Another thing I'd learned in my time overseas. Dash had had to pay a guy on the Army base to give him the certification course, and personally I always thought he'd overpaid. But some things are invaluable, especially in our line of work.

Soon we began to hear a low hum, which grew into a loud buzzing. I looked back toward the house to make sure all the shades were down and no one was near the windows. Then I looked at Dash, and nodded. Time to go to work.

Simon came running around the corner and dived under an old blanket I had spread out on the ground. Once he was out of sight, Dash and I opened up the nozzles and it was flame on.

"Freakin' fairies!" Dash muttered, muffled by the hood. "I hate 'em!"

"Not too fond of them myself," I said. "They're vicious. And deadly. I saw them devour a guard dog in Iraq. A pit bull. Swarmed over him and ate him up just like that."

"There are colonies in Iraq?"

"There were when I was there. They're not native to the region."

It was a huge swarm, bigger than the one in Iraq, even bigger than the one we'd dealt with previously. I was worried our flamethrowers would run out of fuel, but the last few stragglers zipped past, and we lit them up.

There was a smell in the air like burned bacon, and tiny blackened bodies lying in heaps on the ground.

"Not so tough now, are you?" Dash prodded one that seemed to be mostly intact with the toe of his boot. "Bite me, sparkle butt!"

"Dash, no!" I swung the flamethrower around just in case she wasn't quite dead yet.

"Relax, Mars. They're toast. Let's sweep up the ashes and go collect our money."

It was all about the money with him. "We're only half done," I pointed out. "We still have to knock down and burn the hive. That might take a while."

"Besides," said Simon, who was coming out from under the blanket, "the queen's still in there."

"She doesn't leave the hive," Dash reminded him.

"It's been known to happen," I said. "How are you for gas?"

He checked the indicator. "I've got a little over a quarter of a tank."

"I've got less than that. We should go back to the van and fuel up before we go cut down the hive. Just in case."

"We'll show that little bitch who's boss." He strode back toward the van, and I followed.

"Hey!" Simon called, hurrying after us. "Wait up!"

THREE DAYS EARLIER

When I stopped into the World of Stuff for my morning coffee at the in-store Starbucks (I know, progress, right?), Mr. Radford, who refuses to retire, saw me coming and pounced like an old tomcat.

"Marshall!" he called out, handing the keys to his assistant and stepping out from behind the counter. "Just the man I wanted to see!"

"What's up?" I asked, slipping into a booth. He sat on the other side and took out his phone.

"You remember my niece Calliope, don't you?"

I nodded. "She's okay, I hope."

"Oh, she's fine, but her next-door neighbor's got a problem. Take a look." He slid the phone across the table toward me. I looked down at the screen and couldn't believe what I saw.

"How long has that been there?"

"She's not sure. She was out on a walk and she happened to see it. Something that size, though, doesn't get there overnight."

"She lives in Texas, doesn't she?"

"Yep, up in the panhandle."

"There's nobody local who can handle this?"

He looked me straight in the eye. "Would you trust something like this to your average exterminator?"

"I mean someone who does what we do. I know there are others, out there on the fringe."

"If there are, Callie doesn't know how to get hold of them. But she does know you. Figure it's a two- or three-day drive if you switch off and drive straight through. It's getting real hot right now in that part of Texas, and if they should swarm . . ."

There was a clink as the barista, Janet, set my mocha frappuchino in front of me. And I hadn't even ordered it yet.

"What can I get you today, Mr. R.?" she asked.

In response, he asked, "What did I have last time?"

"I don't know," she said. "I wasn't here yesterday."

"Well, what did I have the last time you worked?"

"Hmm . . . vanilla latte, I think."

"That sounds good. I know I hate to repeat myself, but I'll just go ahead and have that."

"Coming right up," she said, and left us alone again.

I looked down at the picture again. "I don't know," I said. "I want to help, but . . . we haven't been on a road trip since my kids were born. It's not so easy to just get in the car and go anymore."

"You play your cards right, you'll be gone less than a week. Your mom can help Sylvie watch the kids-isn't she always saying she never gets enough time with them?"

"Yeah, but-"

"School doesn't start again for three weeks."

"Four weeks," I corrected him. We had the first day of school outlined in red on the calendar.

"Don't the teachers have to report back early?"

"Oh, yeah."

"And I know for a fact that Dash doesn't have anything going until he starts on the big restoration project in September. You have to go now. If the weather gets any hotter, they could swarm, and nobody wants that." He leaned in conspiratorially. "They say it was a fairy swarm that caused the disappearance of all the settlers on Roanoke Island."

"Really? I hadn't heard that." I never knew whether Mr. Radford was telling the truth about something like this, or if he was just putting me on. Either one was likely. "I'll talk to my associates and see if they'll do it."

"Great!" He stood up and strode back to the counter, grabbing his vanilla latte right out of Janet's hand. She just took it in stride.

"Mr. Radford," I prompted him. "You forgot your phone."

He looked down, confused. "Isn't that your phone?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's yours." I checked my pocket and found my own phone right where it was supposed to be. I held it up. "See?"

"Oh. Oh!"

I brought it up to him. "I don't suppose you can give me Callie's number?"

"Don't you have it?"

"I used to, but . . . someone made me delete it. Total misunderstanding."

"I'm sure." He fiddled around with the phone for a minute before asking, "How do I get out of Photos and into the Address Book? Do I have an Address Book? If I don't, where do I keep the phone numbers?"

"Let me see." I found it for him and then copied Callie's number into my own phone. "I'll call her as soon as I know what we're doing."

"Marshall." He looked at me seriously. "Callie's neighbor has three kids, two dogs, four cats, a cow and a chicken. If you don't take care of that infestation . . . all of them could be in danger."

He was right, of course. Lives were at stake. It was my duty to convince the guys that this trip was absolutely necessary.

All I had to do was keep things calm and reasonable, and everything would be all right.

"We're going to see who?" Simon exploded.

Yeah, so much for calm and reasonable.

"We won't be seeing her," I pointed out. "It's at her neighbor's house. I mean, we might stop in and say hi, but-"

"Oh, sure you will! Then the next thing you know, your hand is up under her sweater!"

"I told you," I said, "I was fixing her dress strap for her!"

"Right in the middle of the hallway! You have no shame!"

"You're talking about something that happened almost twenty years ago!" Okay, so I was starting to lose my cool a bit. "We already talked about all this!"

"Yeah, and one of the conditions of us staying friends was that you would never see or talk to that person ever again!"

"I haven't actually talked to her yet-"

"You better not! Or you can go to Texas by yourself!" He went into his room and slammed the door. It might have been more effective if the door hadn't bounced back, hit the wall, and then just sort of hung there, half-open.

Dash snorted. "I told you you were gonna break that door!" he shouted across the room. "I'm not fixing it this time! You can just call Building Maintenance and wait a month for them to deal with it!"

I felt terrible for having dragged all this up again, even though it hadn't really been my fault the first time. "I should go talk to him."

"Not yet. He's still sulking. Give him time to cool down first." Dash flipped on the TV. "I have the last three episodes of Walking Dead recorded. Wanna watch 'em?"

I shook my head. "I'm good."

"Suits? Blue Bloods? Oh-Mysteries of Laura! I love that one!"

"Watch what you want," I said, getting up. "I'm going to talk to Simon."

I went over and knocked on the half-open door. "Can I come in?"

Simon looked up. "Can I stop you?"

"Sure you can. You can say, 'Don't come in, I want to be alone right now.'"

He looked away, and for a moment I thought he would do just that. Then he said, "It's okay. Come in."

I stepped inside. Simon was sitting on the unmade bed, staring at the wall. There was a chair, but it was covered with books and papers and stuff, so I just sat down beside him on the bed. Then I looked up. "I love the stars."

He didn't even glance up. "The constellations aren't accurate, but I didn't have a lot of room to work with."

"I still like them."

"You promised you'd never have anything to do with her again. Ever. And now you go and do this behind my back-"

"I haven't done anything yet!" I said. "I haven't talked to her or even sent her an e-mail! I didn't want to make any arrangements until I talked to you guys first."

"Cause you knew what I'd say about it."

"Simon." I put my arm around him. He stiffened, but didn't pull away. "Three kids, two dogs, four cats, a cow and a chicken are depending on us. Depending on you. This isn't about Callie at all. This is about the last fairy colony in North America. And we get to be the guys who brought it down!"

That perked him up a bit. "Can I blog about it?"

"Sure. You can even record video, just like you did of the last one."

"You mean when Dash got bitten and went all loopy from the hallucinogenic venom?"

"You took that off YouTube, right?" came the shout from the other room.

"Yes!" Simon yelled back. "I took it down as soon as you asked me to!" To me he said, in a near-whisper, "I still have my copy, though."

"Better keep that somewhere safe," I told him.

"Oh, I do. It's in a file labeled 'ABBA Videos'. He'll never look there."

"True."

We sat in silence for a moment, and then I said, "So are you in or not? Cause I can't do it without you, man. Seriously."

He looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, in their inaccurate configurations (and now that I looked at it, I was pretty sure Sagittarius was upside-down), and then looked at me. "Fine. But I'm not letting any one of us be alone with Callie. Not even for a second."

"Fair enough." We shook on it.

The next day we packed the van and took off. It took us three days of driving straight through to reach Callie's home in Texas, and the only problem we encountered was when Simon, who was in the passenger seat at the time, changed the radio station to Seventies Soft Rock.

He was bobbing along with "Dancing Queen" when suddenly Dash, whom we had thought was asleep in the back, spoke up. "What did I tell you about that music, short stack? You can only play it in my presence if you're wearing headphones. I don't see any headphones."

"I thought you were asleep!" Simon protested.

"How can anyone sleep through that garbage? Change it, now!"

"Hey, guys!" I interrupted. "One more word and I'll put on the all-opera station. Then we can all be miserable."

That shut them up.

We compromised on the Eighties/Nineties Pop station. That seemed to work for everyone.

After three days, seven drive-thru runs, four stops for gas, and two wrong turns (curse you, Map App!), we finally pulled into Callie's long, long driveway.

"Wow," Simon said. "They have a lot of land here."

"That's a good thing," I said. "Big plots of land means fewer neighbors. Fewer people in danger."

"Of course, if the swarm breaks loose," Dash remarked, "it can go anywhere it wants."

"Let's hope we made it in time, then."

We had plenty of time, as we walked up the long drive and then the long front walk, to admire the landscaping. "Remind me to get some pictures of the fountain," I said. "I've been thinking about putting something like that on the side of the house."

"I think you'd have to scale it down," said Dash. "Something that size would never fit in your yard."

"Yeah. The general idea, though . . ."

"It is nice."

Simon wasn't saying anything, not even when I pointed out the little frog statues by the fountain (he loves frogs). I could tell he just wanted to be out of here as soon as possible, but it was only polite to say hi to Callie first.

Finally we reached the front porch . . . and just stood there.

"Ring the bell," I said.

"You ring the bell," said Dash.

"You're closer!"

"This was all your idea!"

"We don't have a lot of time here! Ring the bell!"

"Hey, you're not the boss of me! You don't give me orders!"

Simon looked at both of us. "Seriously?" Then he reached between us and rang the bell.

"I was gonna do that," Dash said weakly.

"Just don't talk," Simon said to him.

It was a couple of minutes before the door opened. She must have been all the way at the other end of the house. And it was a big house, easily twice the size of mine. I wondered how many kids she had.

"How much you think a house like this goes for?" Dash asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe real estate's cheap here."

"Or her husband's mega-successful. Wonder what he does for a living?"

Then the door burst open, and there she was.

I can't say she hadn't changed a bit, because obviously she was older, a bit taller, and her hair was a different color now, but I recognized her instantly. She must have recognized me too, because she let out an ear-piercing squeal and threw her arms around me.

"So glad to see you!" she gushed. "I have all your books! Come see!"

"Yeah, Cal, this really isn't a social call-" Dash began, before she spotted him and swooped down on him.

"Dashie-poo! You haven't changed at all! Still not married?"

"Well, no-"

"You could have had me, but it's too late. Now, I made you a special batch of my pineapple-coconut cookies, cause I know you love them . . ."

"I'll just wait in the van, then," Simon said, trying to slink away before she could descend on him. She was too fast for him, though.

"Simon! How could I forget you?" She reached out for him, but he took a step back. If we were on my front porch, he would have fallen down the steps, but this porch was the size of my entire living room. He had plenty of distance to put between himself and her.

She didn't seem too offended by his reluctance to get close to her. "You're still upset about . . . how it ended."

"A little, yeah."

"Callie," I said, "as much as we'd like to see the house and eat cookies and everything, we really should get to that hive before sundown. Is your neighbor home?"

"Nancy? She should be."

"And you told her to keep the kids and the animals in the house?"

"Even the cow and the chicken?" Dash quipped, and I gave him a look.

"I told her," said Callie. "I know how dangerous fairies are. My parents were eaten by fairies, remember?"

"I know," I said. "To anyone outside of Eerie, that would sound . . . crazy. But we know better."

"Good thing fairies are all but extinct," said Simon. "At least north of the equator. I've heard about colonies down in South America, but I don't think they migrate this far north, so we're safe. Besides, one long road trip a decade is enough for us."

"What did you tell her?" I asked.

She looked a little embarrassed. "I told her they were probably . . . giant African killer wasps."

"Wasps?"

"I said probably! I told her I wasn't an expert, but I knew someone who was. Come on, Nancy's barn is over this way." She led us down off the porch and across a lawn bigger than my whole neighborhood up to a house which was only average sized. "I even had her put the cars in the garage, just to be safe." She pointed back toward a huge structure which could have housed a 747 comfortably.

Nancy turned out to be a fortyish woman in a pink housecoat and one of those plastic hair turbans women wear when they've just come out of the beauty parlor and don't want to mess up their new do. "Oh! I wasn't expecting you so early!"

"They drove straight through from Indiana," Callie explained. She introduced us, and then the guys stepped back and let me do the talking.

"It definitely looks like African wasps," I said, struggling to keep a straight face. "We have all the equipment in the van, and I don't expect it to take us longer than a couple of hours at most. If you could just stay in the house with all your doors and windows locked, and the shades down, I'll let you know when it's all clear."

"Shades?"

"You want to keep away from the windows. They're attracted to shiny things, and the glint of light off a window might be enough to draw them away from us. You'll be perfectly safe as long as you all stay inside."

"Including the cow and the chicken," Dash piped up. I glared at him over my shoulder, but Nancy just laughed.

"It's okay," she said, "they're in our other barn. Locked up tight. My husband even sealed the cracks big enough to let one of those wasps inside. They're fine."

"Good." I nodded briskly. "Now if you'll just point us in the direction of the barn, we'll get to work."

So now all that was left was to cut the hive down and burn it, hopefully with the queen still inside. I was feeling a bit apprehensive about the job ahead, but not because things weren't going well. They were going too well. I had this feeling that something would go terribly wrong when we got to the queen. I just hoped we were ready for it when it happened, whatever it turned out to be.

We stood about ten feet away from the barn-what I judged to be a safe distance-and looked up at the hive.

"Oh, man," Simon moaned. "How're we gonna get that down?"

"One of us will have to go up on the roof and saw it free," said Dash. "I've got a hacksaw in the van. When it falls down, it'll probably burst open, and the queen will fly out. And she'll be pissed."

"So who gets to climb up there?" I asked.

Simon immediately said, "Not it!" At our looks, he said, "What? I was the bait! I can't cut down the hive too! I didn't want to come here in the first place!"

"Quit whining, Junior," Dash scolded him. "I'll do it! You guys wait down here with the flamethrowers armed and ready. Luckily, queens are pretty slow in the air. She should be no problem to take care of."

Very soon, we would all regret those words. The easy part of the job was over. From here on out, it was tough going all the way.

Dash handed Simon his flamethrower and went to the van to get the hacksaw. Meanwhile Simon was fumbling around inside his coveralls.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Almost got it-ah!" He held up his phone and turned it on. "Just got to check my e-mail for a second."

"Can't it wait till we're finished with this?"

"I just want to check one thing!"

"Well, hurry up! Once the queen's out of the hive, all shiny things need to be out of sight!"

"Okay, okay!" He checked whatever it was while keeping one eye on the hive. There was nothing happening at the moment, but then Dash hadn't come back with the saw yet.

Simon finished with his phone and tucked it back into his pocket. "There. Happy?"

"Yes, actually."

Dash came back, climbed up on the barn roof, and ordered us both to stand back. Then he started sawing at the place where the hive connected with the roof. It took him about ten minutes to cut through it completely, and then he climbed down and ran behind the barn, trying to get out of the way.

But not fast enough. The moment the hive struck the ground, it exploded like a bomb, and the queen, huge and bloated, buzzed out . . . and homed straight in on Dash, knocking him to the ground.

She couldn't bite through his protective suit, but that didn't stop her trying, banging into him again and again.

"What do we do?" Simon asked me. "We can't use the flamethrowers-we'll hit Dash! And it's his turn to do the dishes!"

I couldn't tell if he was making a joke to try and lighten the moment or if he was actually serious. "We need to distract her somehow. You still got the bling suit?"

"No, I left it with the blanket!"

"Damn! Something shiny . . . something shiny . . ." And then it hit me. "Simon, give me your phone."

"What? But you said-"

"I know what I said. I've got an idea. We can use the reflection off the glass to lure her away!"

Simon tossed me the phone, and I switched it on and held it up. When the sun struck it just right, the whole surface of the phone became reflective. I called out, "Hey, Tinkerbell! Look at this!"

I don't know if fairies understand English, but she paused in her assault and seemed to be waiting to see what would happen next. I tilted the phone so the glint of light would shine in her direction, and she went for it.

"Go get it!" I said, and tossed the phone as far in the other direction as I could. When she was safely clear, I shouted, "Light her up!"

Simon and I switched on our flamethrowers and directed them toward her just as she pounced on the phone. There was a high, unearthly shriek, and her body, which was about the size of a soccer ball, went up like a match in gasoline. She dropped to the dirt to try and roll around to put herself out, but we kept up the flame, and it wasn't long until she was nothing but ashes. Just like all the rest of her crew.

Simon looked down and then poked the ashes with the tip of his now-deactivated flamethrower. Under the remains of the dead queen lay a blackened rectangle that had only recently been his phone.

"I don't think," he said, "that's covered in the warranty."

"We'll buy you a new one," I said. "Dash, you all right?"

He was getting to his feet slowly. "I think so."

"Let's go tell Nancy that it's safe to come out of the house now."

Once again, I did the talking. "We're done," I told her. "Had to burn the critters out of their nest, but they're not a problem anymore. And I don't think they'll come back."

"Thank you so much." Nancy invited us in for a moment. "How much do I owe you?"

"Ten thousand dollars," Dash replied, before I could stop him.

I expected her to protest, but she didn't bat an eyelash. "I'll just go get my checkbook."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Could I just confer with my associates first?"

"Sure."

I drew them aside and said, "Ten thousand dollars? Really?"

"Hey, you weren't the one getting beat up by Queen Sparkles! The fee represents the degree of difficulty involved."

"I thought we agreed we would only ask for expenses! Even with gas, food, equipment-"

"And a new phone," Simon interjected.

"Right. A new phone. That hardly comes to ten thousand dollars! We're not in this to make money, remember?"

"Maybe you're not," Dash snapped. "I'll take what I can get, thank you! She didn't seem to have a problem with it."

"Well, I do." I did some quick mental calculations. Gas . . . four times sixty dollars was two hundred and forty. Food was another forty or so a pop, so . . . another hundred or so. Equipment wear and tear barely came to another hundred. Even with the cost of the phone, it didn't come anywhere near ten thousand. One thousand, maybe.

But Dash deserved something for his trouble, so up that a little.

I came back to Nancy, who had her check all filled out except for the amount. "I'm sorry, Nancy, my colleague misspoke. It's not ten thousand. It's three thousand."

"Three?" Dash protested, and Simon gave him an elbow in the ribs. "Ow! What?"

"Ssh!"

"Well, that sounds very reasonable," Nancy said, and finished filling out the check. She tore it out of her book and handed it to me. "Thank you so much for all your trouble."

"No trouble at all," I said.

Callie swooped out of nowhere and enveloped us all in a hug that must have nearly killed Dash's sore body. "I knew you could do it! Come on, let's go have cookies!"

"We are never," Dash gasped out, as soon as Callie had released us, "doing this again."

"Don't worry," Simon said. "We won't have to. That was the last fairy colony in North America. Aw, shoot, I forgot to get the video!"

"It's okay," I said. "You would have lost it with the phone anyway."

"My next one will have instant uploading to the cloud, so I'll never lose anything."

"Sounds like a plan," I said. "Let's go have some cookies. Cookies make everything better."

It's true-they really do. They even made Simon forget he was still mad at Callie. We parted as friends. I even promised to look her up on Facebook, so we could stay in touch.

So a happy ending all around.

Well, maybe not for the fairies.