Spider

Spider...Chapter Ten

CHAPTER X: (Song: Freak On a Leash)

Looking over his shoulder at Josh, Jack paced down the street with the rest of his posse (tip?). He twirled the Louisville Slugger in his hand, and then beat the end of the bat on the pavement beneath him. As they approached the corner apartment building, Jack looked back at Josh once more.

"Which one is he in?" Jack was calm, but only because he was dealing with someone else's problem. Jack preferred to do things himself anyway, and he would get pretty angry if any of the others were to take out a hit themselves.

"512. The second one from the first alley way, right up here." He pointed to the farthest corner of the street, and Jack quickened his steps. With the bat in one hand, he pounded on the door of apartment 512 repeatedly. Then, a man of about twenty or so opened the door, a sour expression on his face.

"What the fuck are you ki--" the man didn't have time to finish his sentence, for Jack swung the bat, colliding it with the man's temple. He fell forward, and Jack backed up, letting the man fall down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Jack forced the bat down upon the man once more, this time hitting and cracking four ribs. Despite the fact that it was broad daylight, they knew that no one came through this street anymore because of broken street lights, so they were safe.

"Why the fuck would you mess with Josh's old lady? Huh? Answer, man, I don't have all day." Jack waited for a response, but heard nothing expect for a few groans, coughs, and cries of pain. "Well, then, since you don't seem to have a reason..." Jack brought the bat down, again. On the man's face, his arms, his back, his stomach, and then again to his head. Before walking away, Jack spit on the ground next to the man and kicked him once in his already broken ribs. The man shook, his body in the fetal position because of his wounds. Turning around, Jack eyed the seemingly empty street, taking in that there were no signs of life other than that of his friends and his own.

...........

Aunt Sherry tightly squeezed into the small parking lot, between two other cars, and exited the vehicle, Cameron following behind her. They both walked to the front door of the office building, Cameron taking a seat directly inside while Aunt Sherry walked ahead to the receptionist desk. She waited patiently for the woman behind the desk to hang up her phone and offer to help Sherry. Once that fiet was accomplished, Aunt Sherry walked over to Cameron.

"This it going to take longer than I thought. If you want, you can walk around outside. There are a few book stores a little ways down the street, but just make sure you have your cell phone turned on, okay?"

"Sure. Take your time, 'kay?" For some reason, ever since they had talked earlier that day, Cameron felt closer to her Aunt. Sherry smiled at her before turning and following a woman into the back. Once she was out of sight, Cameron rose from her seat and stepped outside, not wanting to seem to eager to her Aunt. She walked down the street, window shopping and reading store signs to pass the time. Deciding to turn the street corner and walk some more instead of entering any of the stores, Cameron walked on, thinking of when her Aunt and Uncle's birthdays were. Looking down at the ground, she didn't notice the end of the street until she reached the Pedestrian Crossing. She swore to herself and then made a left turn to cross the street and turn down another. For a few moments, all Cameron saw were vacant buildings and vandalized walls and signs which had their outsides ripped apart and scattered about on the sidewalk. Sighing and wrapping herself in her jacket, she continued on, sometimes stopping to peer into the broken windows and doors of the dead, hollow stores.

Her limbs stiff from the bitter cold, Cameron stretched to loosen her muscles and tendons. Then hearing the sound of someone trying to catch their breath, she became too curious for her own good and crept toward the slow but hasty noise. Finally locating the noise, she nealt on the ground before the beaten and bloody man. He coughed once, twice, and the results were grotesque: there was blood in his exhalation, and this made the man clutch at his stomach from the pain.