I shook with repugnance, yanking my feet from the metaphysical goo of the deliquesced asphalt and ran. How far? I cannot tell you. All I know is the sound of my slippers slapping against the concrete floor of the alley seemed to sound in my ears for an eternity. My breathing became hoarse, labored. My chest filled with pain as my legs became ladened with lactic acid. They pleaded for me to stop, to rest. I couldn’t though. I had to get away. I had to put as much distance between me and the glass and the clothes, and my grandmother, as possible. There was nothing more important than that.
I ran.
I ran and ran, ran and ran… for longer than I ever ran in my life. To me, there was no concept of time. I was running, football fields, miles, maybe a marathon worth of distance. I was never able to discern, no matter how hard I tried over the years.
Simply, I ran.
An hour later, a minute later, her voice came, and halted all – my thoughts, my forward motion, even my breathing and quite nearly - my heart.
“Where are you going so fast?” Her chuckle was undeniable. “You should take your time, relax. Maybe stay a while…”
I turned toward the sultry tones.
She was in a doorway, leaning against the frame, her weight on one leg. Her arms were crossed below her large breasts, their spongy tops showing. The neckline of her silken blouse plunged as usual. It was without sleeves, black, displaying her tanned arms. Even in the blue glow of the alley, her skin was flawless. She had one a pair of sheer, black tights, though they could’ve been thick pantyhose for all I knew. I could practically see through them, see the inviting wheat-colored flesh underneath. Her boots were leather, heeled, as dark as night, ending at the knee with long, sensual zippers running up the inner sides.
I stared into the raven looks of Rosalyn Galtier; my one-time father’s the make-believe administrative assistant, who had called herself Roxanna. She wasn’t playing the dominatrix now. There was no riding crop in her hands. There were no straps, no metal nipple rings, no spikes or buckles or anything belying her desire to overwhelm the men she fucked. She was trying at reticence, which was so unlike her, it was arresting, only not in the manner she had intended.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, accusing, as though she was the one responsible for dragging Lenny down into this freak-show of an alley.
“I was waiting,” she began, nibbling at the nail of her pinky finger, looking through her eyelashes at me, “I guess.” She breathed deeply, her tits rising majestically. “Yeah, I was waiting to see what might happen by.”
I scowled. Her timid approach was becoming a nuisance. It would’ve been better if she’d continued to be the bitch we both knew she was. Why the farce? It was untoward. She was a rude, insensitive, sex-fiend. Why try to be something she wasn’t? It was a waste of my time.
“And now, you’ve come on by.” She exhaled the next part. “Imagine that…”
“Get off the act, bitch. I don’t have time for any of your fucken games. Have you seen my father?” I winced. It hurt to call him such. A part of me, deep in my soul had altered the social bonds between us. Calling him a parent of mine didn’t fit anymore.
Rosalyn was shaking her pretty little head in the negative, her lips pouting. “He ain’t around here, honey.”
“What do you mean by that? Was he here earlier?” I strode toward her. Her eyes were only an inch lower than mine, the heels of her boots were that high.
She came from the doorframe to stand on both feet, her hands falling to her side. “I don’t know, darling. Like I said, I was just waiting. I haven’t searched the place over yet.”
I let out an exasperated burst of air. “Whatever. I gotta go.” I began to move away from her.
“Don’t go!” she pleaded suddenly.
I gazed at her over my shoulder. “I wasn’t kidding around, Rosalyn. I really don’t have time for your bullshit.”
Her face drooped with hurt. “You don’t have to be so mean, Jerry.”
“Are you serious?” My incredulity was towered. “You were screwing my dad, having dudes pork him up the ass, while he was still married to my mother! Don’t you think you’ve earned my anger?”
Her shoulders slumped. She looked down at her feet.
“Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused? How can you stand there and think, for one second, why I shouldn’t be mad at you, that I shouldn’t harbor an ill-will toward you?” I gesticulated wildly. “I know their marriage was almost over, but you didn’t have to be the one to actually break it. They could’ve found that out on their own. They didn’t need you. We didn’t need to see you big, skanky ass shaking in our faces.” I sighed, disgusted. “Really, we didn’t.”
She gazed up at me, tears welling. Her voice was husky with emotion. “I’m not a bad person. You can at least see that, right?”
I shook my head. The gall of this woman was incredible! “Rosalyn, you are a very bad person.”
I know it was harsh, but the pure embitterment coursing through my veins overpowered my sense of tact. I had to speak the truth. I couldn’t lie, not then, not after what she’d done to my family. Yes, it was true - my parents’ marriage had probably been over for quite some time. Yes, my father was abusive. Yes, we were all better off without him. But still, it gave her no right!
I was dead-set on making her understand that point, every facet of it.
Before me, she began to cry.
I couldn’t help myself. I rolled my eyes. “Good-bye, Rosalyn,” I said with a dismissive flick of my wrist, and walked away.
“No! No! Don’t go! Jerry, come back!” she begged.
Suddenly, her hand was on my arm, pulling me, making my swivel at the waist.
She was hugging me before I knew what was happening, her breasts smashing up against the transitional area between my chest and abdomen, her hands clutching about my shoulder blades. “Don’t leave me, Jerry! Please, stay with me. Let me make it up to you. I know I’ve caused all sorts of problems for you family. I know I haven’t been the best person I could be. I can do better. I know I can! Let me prove it to you. Let me show you. Ok? Will you let me do that for you?” The words poured from her, as if she couldn’t stop them. The entire time her head was turned to the side, her smallish earlobe was plastered to the pectoral muscle of my left side.
I couldn’t see the expression on her face. She sounded genuine enough, but with her, with a woman possessing such twisted appetites, I wanted to be sure she was really feeling what she was espousing. I grabbed her by the shoulders and forcibly pushed her away from me, making her eyes meet mine. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded, shaking her slightly. I wanted answers. I had no time for games. Something was telling me, every second I delayed the farther and farther I was from finding Lenny, from finding the truth.
She stared up at me, mascara running, orbs more like a raccoon’s than features of the dark, thirty-something she was.
I could only assume her tears were of the reptilian nature. Yet, time had run out. Those moments for extraneous bullshit had passed. “I can’t stay here, Rosalyn. I have to go.”
Her pretty face bunched, dread seeping into her features. Either this was real or she was as good as Glenn Close at playing the femme fatale.
I held onto her elbows, squeezed them gently. “I have to go.”
Her head shot up. “Take me with you!”
My brow furled. I hadn’t thought of that. My only intention had been getting away from her.
But what if she’s really scared, Jer? You gonna leave her here all alone?
I shook my head at myself. I don’t care.
My hand streaked out, grasping her jaw, my palm flexing along its’ whole length. “You make damned sure you stay the hell out of my way.” I made sure she was peering directly into my gaze.
I held her there for a second longer, but couldn’t any longer.
From a sizable trash bin, no more than fifteen yards down the way I’d ran, something moved. It was something very,
very big.
My eyes tracked the movement automatically, over Rosalyn’s shoulder, through the stray locks of her onyx-colored hair. I saw its’ foot first, although it didn’t look like a foot per se. It took me a second or two to figure out I was watching a clawed tarsus. Yes, that’s what was! It was the barbed end of a spider’s leg.
Then, another came, and another.
I backed away from Rosalyn, letting go of her. “If you’re serious about coming with me, then now seems like a good time to do just that,” I urged.
She swung about, her feet shifting. Her hand came to her mouth, a horrified gasp rattling her entire frame. “Oh, god,” she said. It sounded like a prayer.
We needed one.
Its’ pedipalpi and cephalothorax edged over the rim of the trash bin, its’ four pairs of eyes – some minute, others massive – as black and lifeless as a murky pool searched the area for a heartbeat. Then, they found us. They did not look away.
I had never stopped my retreat and made to stride away. “Rosalyn! Now’s the time!”
“Ok,” she agreed.
I circled away, but not before I saw the rest of the gigantic beast leap from the industrial-sized, refuse container to land upon the ground with a tremendous thump! I had only a fraction of a second to comprehend the spider was multi-colored, brilliantly so, every shade of every precious stone I could imagine. It was beautiful, and it was huge.
Then, it shot its’ web at us. It wasn’t fibrous. It wasn’t even sticky. It was a long, laser-straight stream of crystal, fast, sharp – deadly.
It hit the ground near Rosalyn’s feet, shattering the asphalt as though it was made of glass.
She screamed.
I ran.
~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~
Chapter Twenty: Adrift
When the second crystalline web impacted the ground, no more than four feet away, I realized there was more than one. Instinctively, I juked to the left and then deftly side-stepped in the opposite direction, hoping to throw off this second assailant, wherever it was.
Behind me, Rosalyn squealed. “Jerry, don’t leave me! Don’t let them have me!”
I didn’t bother with a retort. I glanced upward instead, to where the unlikely wall atop the buildings lining either side of the alley met the roof. It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach when I saw more of the gem-hued arachnids gazing down upon us. There were scores. Some of them were larger than the one chasing after us.
I looked to either side of the alleyway, searching over the angled double doorways, looking for one that was open, even partially. We couldn’t make it through one that was closed. The spider was too close. If it was locked, we’d be toast.
Another blast of crystal ruptured the asphalt a yard to my right. I dodged left. Another blast, this one behind me, it was right upon my heels. I urged my legs to move faster, willing every ounce of speed I could squeeze out of them. I steadied my breathing, immediately falling into the rhythmic pattern I used when I raced cross-country. Two quick inhalations, followed by a long exhale, in pace with the pounding of my feet. I could keep this up for at least a mile. And then…
It came down from directly above, crossing my forehead, touching the place between my eyebrows. All at once, an icy shockwave assaulted my senses. It was a brain-freeze on a monstrous scale, painful, seething. I stumbled as the remaining ray of minerals thundered into the ground. I lost my balance, careened to the side, my shoulder smacking into yet another trash bin. I screeched through clenched teeth, feeling the throb throughout my upper arm and the paralyzing cold clawing about my head. I put a blind hand before me, just in case I fell to the ground. I didn’t want to thwack my skull against the pavement. I’d pass out for sure.
Her hands were under my armpits, tiny, spasmodic, but it was enough. I got a foot underneath my weight, centered. The other followed, muscle memory saving me. I lurched upright, still moving as fast I could through the rubble clogging the way.
I could hear them now. It was the loudest chittering I would ever hear in my lifetime. A constant cacophony of clicks and clacks, ticks and tats, incessant, building in volume as they came nearer.
They were coming down the walls now. They had to be. They were behind us as well. They were getting closer. They were coming faster. I could hear the urgency grow within them, the noise grew. I could smell it. They were excreting it from between the forest of spindly hairs growing from their bulbous bodies.
Chittering, nattering - chattering, clattering - they were gaining!
I shook my head violently, hoping to clear the fog muddling my thoughts, trying desperately to keep my body and brain from misfiring.
I saw it, out of the corner of my eye. A doorway, it was open! From within shone a sickly green light, the color of avocado left in the air too long. I didn’t care. I shifted my body toward it at once. My left hand grabbing ahold of Rosalyn’s still underneath my arm.
“Come on! Run! For the door, run!”
She didn’t reply. Her hand gripped mine fiercely. I was plain she wasn’t about to let go.
I held her just as tight. Though she’d been the harbinger of my family destruction, though she’d coerced my father into grotesque sexual scenarios, in that instant when my life, her life, was on the line, I was glad for that tiny bit of human contact. I didn’t care, in that fraction of an eye-blink who, or what, she was. She was there. She was with me, and that was enough.
Then, she wasn’t.
Another unearthly bolt from yet another rainbow spider had hit her. Where, I did not know. At once, her hand ripped from mine. I heard her scream as she went down.
I skidded to a halt, spun as quickly as I could, feeling the tension in my legs. One iota of pressure in addition to what I was applying and I’d tear muscle.
My eyes found hers almost immediately. There were tears streaking down her face. Her hand was reaching out to me, her fingers more like talons, physical expressions of the pain in her body, of the sheer terror in her mind.
I leapt for her, an amazing jump really. I can’t tell you how far, there was no distance in that place, in my mind. I was away, and then, I was near. It is the only way I can explain it.
Our hands clasped one another.
I yanked viciously.
She yelped in pain, but came to her feet as I hauled her upon them. She was scraped and bruised about her arms, her skin-tight leggings torn, blood dripping through.
“Move your fucking ass!” I yelled, though there was no need.
Her visage was ghastly. She was frightened beyond her innermost fears. I was seeing her very soul wail in despair.
We darted for the portal, dashing over the remaining ground faster than we could’ve dreamed.
Another web blasted into one of the partially opened doors, throwing it wide as it ricocheted into the chamber beyond.
Piercing shards cut our arms and cheeks, but we didn’t stop. We rushed through the doorway, slamming the doors shut with every ounce of strength we possessed. They closed with a resounding clamor.
The giant spiders slammed into it a second later.
Rosalyn and I were tossed onto the ground, landing on our rear ends, bouncing, our arms stretched behind us, palms searching for purchase.
To this day, I thank god the doors were like the ones leading into the Boy’s Gymnasium back at my old high school. They had long, traversing rails that operated when one pushed in a downward fashion. Otherwise, they would lock, the moment the flange clicked into place.
Before the onslaught of the multi-colored arachnids, they held.
*****
She got to her feet before I did. Standing shakily upon her heeled boots, now scuffed and swathed with the grime of the alley we’d vacated in a panic.
I remained seated, staring up at the large metal doors, seeing them vibrate in their hinges every time one of the morbidly beautiful spiders smashed into it. Tiny tendrils of dust drifted sedately to the floor with each impact, the cross-rails rattling in their sockets,
but the barrier held. The doors were too strong for the likes of the arachnids.
“Oh god, Jerry, what is this place?” asked Rosalyn, strangled as if she couldn’t breathe.
I glanced her way.
Her hand had come to her mouth, her raven looks were cast in shadow. The vomitous green light within the room hung from the middle of the chamber, illuminating her face from left to right, the bridge of her nose forming a streak of darkness across her face.
I could tell her eyes were wide open, but what else she was expressing was hidden from view. I stood, stepping about, gazing in the direction she was looking. Immediately, I felt my heart lurch, sour bile rising, and then staying at the cusp of my throat. Rosalyn had it right. What was this place?
The chamber was large, though not nearly as large as some of the others I had already been within. It was roughly fifty yards square, built like an airplane hangar and not like the vast rooms of before. They had an overall warehouse appeal about them. This architecture was much starker, utilitarian even. The roof was peaked at the center line, large metal beams, forming trusses that spanned its’ width. As I mention before, in the middle of space, suspended from the supports, hanging down from a great chain, was the source of light. It was enclosed in a brazier-like, copper casement and shone its’ diseased luminosity through a myriad of carved holes in the metal itself. The copper covering depicted a scene of some sort, though I couldn’t ascertain what it might’ve been, the glare, though low-leveled, was difficult to peer through. For the most part the room seemed normal.
I was about to mention to this to her when a strange gurgling followed by something that sounded like rubber squeaking caught my attention. It was then my eyes locked on to what Rosalyn had been referring.
They were other-worldly, as if anything in this cursed place had been “worldly” thus far. They were roughly cylindrical, but in a natural fashion. They did not seem to be manufactured. They were closed at either end, possibly fused, because the longer I looked at them, the ends appeared to be apertures - openings that had been sealed. They were the color of puke, varying shades of green, yellow and orange, intermixed as if they’d been liquid once and they colors had been blended by most huge spatula.
The Birth of Bane Page 22
