Eye Strain by Richard C Hale

Author:Richard C Hale [Hale, Richard C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Thirty A.M. Publishing

The Jeep lurched over a pothole, and the wheel spun in Jaxon’s hands.

Ray grabbed the roll bar as the Jeep swerved. “Do I need to drive?”

“I got this.”

Jaxon corrected and narrowly avoided an old rotting Nissan truck up on cinder blocks, the tires long gone and the windows missing. A few chickens squawked and uprooted from within the burned-out hulk. Jaxon cursed.

The street was wide enough for two cars—barely—but they hadn’t seen another vehicle since leaving the main highway. The shacks and low buildings along the dilapidated street sat so close to the pavement Jaxon was worried he’d slam into a door if someone opened one to leave a house. The claustrophobic feel of the neighborhood lent an air of complete poverty to the vibe, and Jaxon was sure the locals hated the tourists only because of what they represented: money.

A pig ran in front of the Jeep, and Jaxon laid on the horn as he slammed on the brakes. A small boy in shorts and sandals chased after it. It slipped away into a small alleyway that could only fit an animal of his size or smaller. The boy crawled in and disappeared.

Ray shook his head. “This place is worse than I thought.”

“I’ve seen better.”

“No doubt.”

“How much farther?”

Ray consulted the GPS in his phone. “Half a mile. At least.”

The people on the street stopped whatever they were doing and followed the Jeep with their eyes, the hostility clearly painted on their faces. Many gestured with their hands and fingers in that universal language that told Jaxon they were not welcome.

A man leaning up against the post of an abandoned-looking hotel stepped onto the street and into their path. He held up his hand for them to stop. Jaxon swerved and moved around him. The man spat at them and kicked the Jeep with a booted foot. In the rearview mirror Jaxon saw him standing in the middle of the road with his hands on his hips.

“He’ll be waiting when we come back,” Ray said.

“So what? Dumb-ass local. I about ran him over.”

No others tried to stop them as they made it the last couple of blocks and pulled in front of a three-story apartment building that had its residents milling about on the front porch and colorful laundry hanging from lines out every window, strung across the street. Jaxon shut the Jeep down and stepped from the vehicle. A baby cried in the distance as the odor of trash and something else assaulted Jaxon’s nostrils. The jungle sat off in the distance behind the structures, and Jaxon could hear exotic birds and monkeys blend in with the sounds of music being played on a cheap boom box plugged into an ancient-looking electrical outlet by the main entrance. A group of teenagers sat around it smoking homemade cigarettes. Ray put one foot down into the street but hung half-in and half-out of the Jeep. All eyes focused on them.

Jaxon walked up to the nearest person—a woman breastfeeding an infant—and spoke, keeping his eyes on everything.

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