Scaring the Crows by Miller Gregory && York John Randall

Author:Miller, Gregory && York, John Randall [Miller, Gregory & York, John Randall]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Horror, Short Stories (Single Author), Fiction
ISBN: 9781600761478
Publisher: StoneGarden Publishing
Published: 2009-10-30T20:09:34+00:00

“It’s humid in here. One of us should talk to Peterson about having the ventilation checked.” Younker started snipping away. The skein of yarn began to slough off in great clumps he then kicked out into the passage.

“Do you see the Widow?”

“No. Ouch! Jesus!”

“What? What?” Cavell raised his stick.

“Put that damn thing down. Oh, man.” Younker sucked on his thumb. “A goddamn spider bit me.”

“Come again?”

“A spider! A spider, Cavell.”

“Come here.”

“Eh?”

Cavell stepped forward and pulled Younker into the light of the hallway. “There’s two more on your shirt.” He pointed to the tiny brown spiders but made no move to brush them away.

“The Widow’s got her own little fan club in there, don’t she?” Younker batted the spiders off with his stick. They drifted to the floor on gossamer threads, hit ground, and scurried back toward the cell. Younker was too quick. He brought his boot down hard. They sounded like bitten grapes as their abdomens burst.

Ms. Burgett moved quickly. Before Younker could turn she was on his back, shrieking as she slashed at his face with her claws.

Blast it, Younker, first the fireflies, now you kill her friends, Cavell thought, then brought the night stick down on Ms. Burgett’s arm. There was a crack, louder than Younker’s screams, and Ms. Burgett fell off his back. Cavell raised his stick again. Ms. Burgett lunged forward and caught it with her good hand. Younker, still screaming, fumbled for his taser, flicked it on, and jammed it into Ms. Burgett’s neck. Blue lightning sizzled across her face, leapt across her filed teeth, and arced down her chest.

Younker pulled away.

Ms. Burgett fell.

Breathing hard, Younker and Cavell leaned heavily against the glass. Younker sobbed in distress, his face a criss-crossed pattern of welts and scratches. Cavell had his hand on his heart. It was pounding furiously.

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