by John Everson
“Let’s stay near the boat,” Casey suggested. “We could put the tents up right over there at the treeline?”
“Works for me,” Billy said, and Mark shrugged acceptance. Jess hopped back into the boat and with a groan tossed her heavy pack over the side to Mark. Billy stepped past her and grabbed a tent bag, and the two walked up the shifting sand to a spot sheltered between two huge palm trees. “Wish I had a hammock,” Mark observed.
They got to work setting up the first tent, while the girls brought some of the smaller gear from the boat and piled it nearby.
Mark popped in the main pole at the same moment as Jess screamed.
“What?” he jumped out from the midst of the green fabric to see her standing on one foot just a couple meters away. Her hand massaged the top of one foot while her eyes stared at the beach in horror.
Casey held her shoulder. “Did it bite?”
“Did what bite?” Billy demanded, and Jess pointed at a spot on the sand. Billy knelt in front of her and stared at the thing she pointed at.
“What is it?” Mark asked, joining him.
“A spider of some kind,” Billy answered, leaning closer to stare at its thin but spiny legs, and oval, black back. A slash of violet colored its back half, like a bolt of lightning.
“Looks like a small crab,” Mark said. “Never seen a purple spider.”
Billy shook his head. “You’d think so, but that’s not a shell. Those legs are insect legs, not crab.
“Is it poisonous?” Jess cried.
“I don’t know,” Billy said. “Did it bite you?”
Jess shook her head. “I was just standing there and I felt something tickle my foot. I looked down and there it was, standing on me. I kicked it off right away.”
Billy stood, and the spider began to run across the sand. But Billy didn’t let it go. He stepped to the left and ground the heel of his sandal on the thing, leaving a glimmering mess of black film and yellowish mush in his wake.
“It won’t bother you again,” he promised.
Jess hugged herself. “I hate spiders,” she said. “And where there’s one, there are always more.”
Jess had had no idea how true that statement was when she’d made it yesterday. Today they had discovered that there were more.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
The Family Tree
Copyright © 2014 by John Everson
ISBN: 978-1-61922-462-9
Edited by Don D’Auria
Cover by Scott Carpenter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: October 2014
www.samhainpublishing.com
