Spider

CHAPTER 9

"Okay, Gavin, tell me. Why the hell do they want to kill you?" Jason asked eagerly as he drove down the wide interstate highway.

"That's none of your business. Drive to Utica and we'll go our separate ways," the man beside him said coldly, stroking his fingers gently on the barrel of the gun.

"Hey, don't be so cold man, I just wanna know what kind of big shot you've offended that a dozen thugs plus a sniper can't wait to shoot you into a honeycomb." Jason tilted his head to look at him, eyes glowing with curiosity. "You look like a dangerous man. What did you do, drug trafficking? Reselling arms? Did you rat on someone? Or did you bang a gang's leader woman?

The light click of the safety was pulled! Compared with the muzzle on his temple, Jason felt that the pitch-dark eyes overflowing with blood and slaughter behind the front sight had more chilling and intimidating power.

"Shut your mouth! Otherwise, I don't care about committing another murder and pushing your corpse off here."

"Okay, okay, put away your baby. I know you have a driver's license, and I'm not acting as your driver voluntarily," Jason sighed in defeat. "Now I'm in much more trouble than you. If Adri knows that I've got his car made into a shape that could go straight to the scrapyard, he'll kill me! His anger is much more frightening than a Colt! Look, I'm already unlucky enough, and if I lose this little life of mine later, God won't even see it!"

Gavin looked at him expressionlessly, his sunglasses perfectly concealing the subtle change in his glance. The reaction of the other was a bit unexpected: he thought he would shut up obediently like everyone else — they could hardly make any sound except sobs and cries under his gun — but the guy in front of him was jabbering, lost in his own thoughts. Only lunatics and idiots don't feel the threat of death, yet he didn't seem to belong to any of them. His gaze was bright and joyful, with occasional flashes of alarm, yet always looking straight at him without averting, like a scale that refused to slant, keeping a subtle point of balance from beginning to end.

The phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated, and Jason knew it was Adrian calling. He had just moved his fingers when the man next to him ordered in a cold voice, "You're not allowed to answer!"

"Roger." Jason put his hands back on the wheel in discontent. "I promise not to contribute a penny to AT&T until we go our separate ways."

The gun against his head finally withdrew. He exhaled a long breath, and vented in a whisper, "God, ah, not again. I don't want to enter menopause early..."

The interior of the car sunk into silence, only the whistling wind rolled past their ears, swallowing up the soft noise of the engine. The tense and cold atmosphere made Jason frown in dissatisfaction. He reached out to turn on the radio, and an old, emotional rock song floated out melodiously, and then he hummed softly, "Said I loved you but I lied. 'Cause this is more than love I feel inside..." When he sang, his voice was slightly deep and hoarse, but with a clean and soft nuance, with a tiny smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. The man next to him didn't make a sound to stop him, and after a long time, his straight back relaxed a little and slowly leaned back.

Outside the window of the car flying by the scenery, twilight had quietly arrived on both the highway and the vast and desolate wilderness.

Jason looked at the pointer on the fuel gauge that was already near the red critical point, and said helplessly, "It could die on us at any time. I forgot to refuel in the morning... Hey, cool dude, don't stare at me like that. It's just a tiny mistake, don't you ever forget your phone or keys or something? Uh, can we call Superman to airlift this one-ton lump of iron to Utica with its passengers inside?" he asked the man next to him earnestly, and then received an angry reply.

"There's a gas station three or four miles ahead, you've got to make it there!"

"'Gonna try my best, but its appetite has always been more unpredictable than the timing of the government's army withdrawal from Iraq. I can't guarantee it."

"You'd better, if you don't want to get off," Gavin said forcefully.

Jason grumbled, holding his forehead, "Would you be a bit kind to me, sir!"

As if suddenly hearing something, Gavin gestured to him to stop, and picked up a small-sized black leather suitcase from his feet — it was the one he carried when he rushed into the car. Jason hadn't noticed it until now. Of course, when you're being held up by a gun, you simply don't have the mind to pay attention to anything else. Gavin fished out a night vision binocular from it, took off his sunglasses and opened the car door to walk out. A few seconds later, he moved swiftly back into the car and flung the door shut.

"Turn off the lights right now and go down the byway. We can't take the highway anymore; they're chasing along it! Damn it, there's an Agusta helicopter with two external machine gun pods and rocket launchers."

"Rocket launchers!" Jason yelled desperately. "They playing tank-fighting here?" He didn't hesitate to turn off the lights of the car as he had been instructed and headed for the dark, boundless wilderness, disappearing soon into the night. "It won't go much farther, at most three miles, maybe less. So, what's your wonderful idea to keep us from becoming burnt pulp?"

Gavin pulled out a pile of metal parts of various shapes from the suitcase on his lap, assembled them very skillfully, saying without looking up, "If this doesn't work, abandon the car and walk through the woods in front — the helicopter can't do anything about the dense forest. After that, go around the Mohawk River to the south. It's not too far."

Jason watched those parts turn into a powerful machine gun in his hand in a blink of an eye. Suddenly, he felt that an ancient salamander had evolved into a tremendous crocodile, and he couldn't help shivering. "So, can the cab service end here? Uh, I know the rest of the trip might not be too pleasant for you, and there're so many bullets chasing you that they can bury you whole, but I'm awfully sorry I can't be of much help. I'm not interested in experiencing the plot of Predators in person or anything like that... Ah yes, I don't want to spend a few days walking back in case I can't get a ride on the highway — maybe you can support me with a little bit of travel expenses?"

Gavin's fingers clenched the handle of the gun, and his mind was forced to jump to a certain scene: it was a sizzling hot summer night, and he was hiding in the bushes of the courtyard, watching attentively at the target protected by layers of guards in the room on the second floor. He waited for two hours before he found a chance to kill with one blow, and of course the ending was perfect. The only thing that wasn't perfect was the process — the constant buzzing everywhere in the bushes, the buzzing that filled the ear drums like a deformed, off-key enchantment, the buzzing that's so annoying that it makes you want to jump violently... It was like blunt blades rasping and grinding his nerves, and the feeling was exactly the same as now! He was truly fed up with this thick-skinned, chattering guy, whose every word seemed to have the potential to exasperate people. Even if it was an accident, getting him involved was definitely a vexing mistake! Now it's time to amend it, before he wrecks his emotions even more thoroughly.

He was ready to aim the gun at the slightly long and somewhat messy looking blonde hair and pull the trigger the next second. He even had his lines ready: 'No problem, I'll send you 'back' for free. I'm sure your journey will definitely be more pleasant than mine.'

The wheels jolted and vibrated violently. The two men bounced ruthlessly on the cushions several times, and before they could stabilize themselves, a brownish gray wall outside the windshield occupied their entire view, immediately followed by a chaos of flying debris and booms. The car had crashed into an abandoned warehouse on the side of the road, and before it was about to fly out through the other wall, the brakes issued a penetrating hiss and dangerously nailed the automobile to the ground!

Jason looked at the dented, deformed white-smoked front of the car and sighed. "Gentlemen, the terminal is here. Please get off."

After crawling down from the car, Jason felt that his legs were still a little weak. Gavin looked at his appearance that cut a sorry figure: his shirt was cut open, sawdust adhered to his hair, and a few blood stains mixed with dust unforgivingly on his face. Even so, he still looked astonishingly handsome, with a hint of childish and pitiful grievances faintly displayed in his wild nature, filling him with a contradictory and harmonious beauty. He watched him shake his hair, feel his cheek, and then huff a cold breath, making an exaggerated expression of pain. His eyes, however, showed a graceful and bright light. That kind of light should've appeared under more suitable circumstances, such as amid languidly drinking rich coffee in front of the French windows in the afternoon, amid a family picnic on the lawn on a warm spring day, or amid darting towards one's lover waiting by the musical fountain... But instead, it appeared on his face in this awful situation, burning in warmness like a blaze, so harmonious and taken for granted. A strange thought in Gavin's mind suddenly broke through the ground and poked out the tip of a sprout — he didn't want him to die yet. Yes, he wanted that look to stay on his face in eternal, even though it had nothing to do with him and he would get nothing out of it, he just wanted it so.

"You can go now." Gavin moved his finger off the trigger of the FN Minimi machine gun and said, "It wasn't a bad ride. Thanks for your cooperation."

Jason was perplexed for a moment, then smiled. "I thought you wouldn't let me off so easily. In case I get caught by them, you think I'd rather die than surrender to keep your whereabouts?"

"Your value isn't as important as you think, and it's not your fault that they chased from downtown New York to here..." Gavin suddenly lost his voice. Jason saw his dark eyes flash like an electric abyss, and there seemed to be something darker and more dangerous (such as a fierce bloodthirsty beast) ready to make trouble! Yet the light faded in an instant, and his eyes returned to the same temperature and color as a cold pool at the bottom of a stream. He paused for a moment, his tone drenched in icy fury, "Low-level, cheap tricks! These little games are the only thing he can do, as if he's never dared to just put a sniper shot in someone's back."

He bent down and put the gun on the ground and started to quickly take off his clothes.

Jason's eyes widened as he watched the man across from him strip himself down to nakedness. This is really... pleasing to see, he thought to himself. He had an excellent figure, as if solidified from the intangible strength and vigorous refinement of every muscle line, showing a purely masculine toughness and unruled elegance. The shape of the chest, waist and abdomen was so perfect that he was jealous, too. His eyes were glued to the man's fingers groping all over his body, and he felt his mouth go dry and his throat tighten.

Gavin stopped moving his hands and frowned. "Looks like it's back there... Come here and give me a hand, Jason." He turned his back to him and continued, "Help me find the GPS tracker hidden in my body. It's probably only the size of a fingernail, buried under the dermis, especially where the muscles are softer... Hey, are you listening?"

Jason answered as if waking up from a dream. He stepped forward and put his slightly trembling fingers on his back, where the touch was firm and elastic. Naturally, it was a fascinating feeling, as if the fingers were absorbed by its pliable and tough gravity. As his fingers continued to move, Jason's breathing began to rush, and he strived to control the heat that was gradually rising throughout his body, a thin layer of sweat permeating from his forehead... It was killing him. He’d never felt that desire was so difficult to control, but the man before him gave him a fervent thirst to touch him further, to kiss his skin, to press him roughly underneath him and listen to his broken moans, lost in desire while ruthlessly fucking him unconscious — the mere thought of it turned him on beyond belief. Now he had to admit that, like the men he had met, the inherent invasive nature that dictated the violent factor flowing in a man’s blood, unlike the tender lingering between a man and a woman, dominated that business with a naked, primitive appetite; the thrill of wrestling with each other to suppress, struggle and then conquest. It's nothing, just nature, irresistible and unnecessary to resist, he said to himself.

Jason's fingers slid down the smooth and slightly protruding spine and landed on his sturdy and tight buttocks, feeling the momentary tightening of the muscles under his fingertips. The other took a deep breath, as if ordering them to relax. He didn't react too fiercely, and Jason was a little bit happy. Maybe I can go further. His hand stroked the graceful butt line, and tentatively extended between his legs, his fingertips touching the warm and alluring ravine...

Gavin grabbed his wrist suddenly, with such strength that it almost broke. He turned his face, his eyes flaming with sharp rage. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Jason endured the pain, his voice a little hoarse, "Don't be so keyed up, easy... You sure it won't be hidden there?"

The other's body stiffened, slowly loosened his hand, and lowered his eyelids. Jason infatuatedly followed his sharp eyes, which were shining like blades out of resentment and discomfort. They traversed a flagrant arc in-midair, and finally landed on the black metal at his feet: the intimidating FN Minimi in both shape and size, with its cold, deep muzzle and the 5.56mm ammunition filled in... He suddenly felt a chill coming up from the soles of his feet, and a large shiver appeared on his back! He admitted that he wanted him very much, but it was not based on the price of life. He doubted whether he had broken his brain. Gosh, that guy was a dangerous character. He exuded a strong dark smell of iron and blood, and he could easily turn anyone into a corpse! Oh, I'm seriously insane for hitting on him!

Jason immediately withdrew his hand after his reason won an overwhelming victory, and he lightly pressed somewhere on the other's nape. "It should be here," he said in the calmest tone he could muster.

Gavin bent down and pulled out a Black Eagle from TOPS out of his shirt and handed the silver-gray hilt to Jason. "Dig it out, and move fast. There's not much time."

Jason squeezed the handle of the knife, took a long breath, and then held it. The jet-black, sharp blade vertically cut the skin of the nape, and blood immediately gushed out of the open slit and flowed down the depression of the back. Although Gavin didn't make a sound, not even a light tremor of muscles, the tip of the knife in Jason's hand was trembling slightly. He carefully dug up the small chip that seemed to have already grown into a whole with the muscle layer, wondering whether the pain nerve endings of the implanted person had the same problem as his taste buds.

"...Alright." Jason held the bloody GPS tracker and put it in Gavin's hand. "What about the wound, should I bandage it?"

"Don't worry about it." Gavin looked coldly at the small object between his fingers, as if to crush it directly, but the next second, he just flicked his finger, threw it on the dusty ground, and then began to dress piece by piece.

Jason suddenly called up, "Listen!"

The huge rumble of a helicopter rolled in like thunder in the sky, and the swift air currents raised by the propellers poured in from the holes in the walls. The entire warehouse walls and roofs issued an awful creaking sound, as if they'd be torn apart and swept up into the air at any time.

An Agusta A-109KM helicopter painted in dark blue hoovered in the air. The machine guns and rocket launchers on the left and right outer pylons of the cockpit were hibernating quietly like dormant monsters, waiting to be awakened at any moment. One of the men in the cockpit tapped his finger on the display screen, and there was a distinct red dot on the satellite map. "Cock in the cage," his companion next to him made a five-finger flicking gesture. "A sky full of chicken feathers, phew..."

The pilot grinned, aimed at the abandoned warehouse not far away, and thumbed the launch button. The fire-spitting Hydra 70 rocket hit the target. The raging flames of the explosion instantly steamed up, bellowing, and draining incomparable power. The flower of death had bloomed in a kind of world-shaking grandeur.