Spider

At about nine o'clock in the morning, they finally came out of the woods and the Mohawk River was sparkling not far ahead.

Gavin thrust the tracker knife, which had been opening all the way through thistles and thorns, back into his waist and walked down the riverbank.

As he washed the dust and blood from his face in the cool river water, Jason was salivating at the shoal of fish swimming lively in the river. "Gosh, I remember the last meal was a year ago... Do you think these sexy little trout would mind being my breakfast, dear?"

That last word made the trapper sputter out a mouthful of water. He looked dumbly at the blond man, who was looking at him with an innocent and expectant expression, his eyes shining.

He helplessly pulled out the Nighthawk, threw it into the stream, then took a few steps over, pulling it up and handing it to him. There was a desperately wriggling trout pricked to the slender, sharp blade. "If you don't mind eating them raw, I don't think they do either."

Jason squeezed its flapping tail. "Thanks, but I don't like Japanese food. Why don't we set a fire and cook it?"

"It's no time for a countryside barbecue, Jason. The helicopter will catch up at any time and I have to get to Utica as soon as possible."

"Are your reinforcements there?"

"No, I've got enough stock in the warehouse there to turn that scoundrel's lair upside down. I've decided to make my boss vanish from this world completely."

"That's an excellent idea. Looks like you'll be free soon. What's the plan after that?" Jason approached smilingly.

Gavin shook his head. "I haven't thought about it."

"I have a great proposal that might interest you?" Jason put a hand on his shoulder. "Take a road trip. Take I-90 through waterfalls, forests, farmlands, deserts, enjoying beer, country music and lifting sunshine girlies along the way... Drive all the way across the United States to Seattle, park under the swaying coconut trees on Waikiki Beach, and then switch into a surfboard — what do you think?"

Gavin gave an interested look. "Sounds great."

"So, mind having an extra person in the passenger seat? We could take turns driving... I mean, it's rather boring to travel alone, maybe you'd like to go with me as a friend?" Jason said those empty words in an amiable and natural way, without any lack in confidence whatsoever.

"Friend?" Gavin chewed on the unfamiliar word, as if analyzing its structure and composition. The man across from him was casting a fervent, bright gaze at him, and he finally gave a tiny nod. "I don't think I'd mind."

Jason jumped on him excitedly. "Hey man, you're a good person! This is awesome... You know, it's like my favorite author's book says, 'the world's a fucking good place'!" He suddenly pointed to the riverbank in the distance and exclaimed, "Look! A lakeshore cabin with open windows and people vacationing there — bingo! Lady Luck really does hate sashimi as much as I do, and I bet she likes orange, too."

"No, it's blue." Gavin squinted at the pretty lakeside cabin, with a pearlescent blue streamlined car looming behind it.

Just when Jason suspected his fingers were about to knock a hole in the plank, the door finally opened.

A twenty-seven (or twenty-eight-year-old) young blonde woman appeared at the door. She was tall, with very charming bluish green eyes, but unfortunately her beauty was greatly reduced by her stiff expression and gloomy, weary eyes. "What is it, Mr. Woodpecker?" she asked in an extremely impolite tone.

Jason was stunned. There was no doubt he had never suffered a blow in this regard. He's never been shown this look from any young (and not so young) woman — they always called him 'honey' and then stuck to it like they couldn't pull it off — except for Erika, who wasn't even a woman, she was a cruel exploiter and a part-time witch, he thought with hatred.

All right, there was always a first time for everything, and even a captivating lady-killer would come across that '10,001.' Jason comforted himself so, opened a smile with a little nuance of ingratiation toward her, and began to dispersedly narrate how his and his friend's car had been involved in a car accident that violated the theory of kinetics.

"...Well, you see, after all this bad luck, we worked most of the night trying to keep the poor off-roader from flopping over like a turtle in a ditch, making ourselves look like masons. This place's so remote that there was no one to help us out. We've been walking for no less than two hours, and we were so lucky to come across you—"

The blonde woman made a stopping gesture and said impatiently, "Okay, tell me what you guys want. Oh, it's a bit rude to say it like that, you probably want to hear something like," she softened her voice deliberately, "gentlemen, how may I help you?"

Jason's smile grew brighter. "Ma'am, you're such a warm-hearted person! Yes, we're hungry and tired now and need some food and hot drinks." And that flashy supercar Audi R8 in your yard.

The blonde woman cast them a sideways glance, then turned to let the door open. "Come in, feel free to find a chair and sit down while I go take a look in the kitchen."

The hostess left the living room. Jason slumped himself comfortably into a high-back chair and complained to Gavin, "Did you see the way she looked at me just now?"

"So what, are you Brad Pitt?"

"I'm not talking about that! I mean, she looked at us like we should be sprawled out obediently on a silver tray with knives and forks in our backs, waiting to be eaten, instead of pullulating to her house like this to ask for this or that! God, I guess I probably did something wrong to her unknowingly, otherwise why the fuck would she look at me with such a resentful look?" Jason grumbled with an aggrieved face.

Gavin's brow twitched faintly, and a radiant light swept across his eyes. Jason felt the gaze was familiar, and he immediately remembered that when he found the GPS tracker hidden on his body, the beast in the abyss had flashed an electric light... It was so shocking that it left an indelible impression in his brain.

The dark-haired man's taut body suddenly jumped up from his chair, a handgun appeared in his right hand, and he pulled Jason's wrist. "Get going immediately!"

Jason stumbled as he was dragged along by him. As he put his hand on the doorknob, there was an absolutely unequivocal click behind him.

The sound of the gun's safety being pulled.

There was only one sound, but Gavin could hear it like a conditioned reflex. It was two Negev assault-type light machine guns, their muzzles pointed right at their backs, and the M193 5.56mm bullets in the barrels were ready to fire. He could even guess who the two people behind him with the guns were — he had never seen any other people able to make the weapons in their hands think alike like they did.

He made a quick judgment: he didn't think he could escape through this door with his back to the guns of those two, let alone with the world's biggest variable beside him.

"Drop the gun, raise your hands and put them on the door," a female mezzo-soprano said, her timbre not too melodious, but with a certain delicate vibrato at the end of the words, reminiscent of melted, creamy chocolate.

Gavin slowly dropped the gun and raised his hands high. Jason looked at his profile without the slightest change in line and decided to follow suit. Although his roommate had always criticized him for being too set in his ways and reckless, when it came to life and death, he had always understood the importance of judging the situation.

The voice continued to order, "You, blondie, go and remove all the weapons from his body, including your own, and place them in the corner — and remember, do not leave out a single knife!"

Jason was helplessly forced to act as a disarmer, and very soon there was a pile of small weapons on the floor in the corner: handguns, spare magazines, daggers, guns, as well as tactical sabers, miniature grenades, micrometric sights, and so on. His new friend was simply a portable arsenal, and the storage capacity would've to be greatly increased if the machine gun and bullet chains were not hidden under the chassis of that Audi supercar.

"Now turn around slowly."

On the opposite side stood a man and a woman in camouflage clothing and armed with weapons, the similar facial features and hair color clearly signaling a blood tie. The young woman who gave the order was petite, with a headful of long, soft brown and slightly curly hair. Her skin was a beautiful dark color, and her plump lips were pointed outward, appearing extraordinarily alluring, like a delicate version of Lara Croft.

She stared at Gavin grimly, her pretty facial lines blended with some kind of dark artless and ruthless charm — it was hard to imagine such a completely different bearing was able to appear in the same person and being like nature itself. She raised her plump lips and said in a sinister chocolate-like voice with a particular vibrato, "K-1427, serious disobedience and treason against the master; escort back to the Beast Camp to receive the corresponding punishment."

"The standard official speech, the instructor's original words were conveyed. The following is personal," she exposed a sneering smile. "Hey, man, congratulations on your return! We'll take you back and hopefully you'll have a chance to handle the furnace again. By my reckoning, though, you won't even pass the review. You've stirred up a big mess this time."

"I'm not going back with you guys, Mackenzie," Gavin said coldly.

"That's not up to you, Gavin, your personal wishes are nothing," Mackenzie said. "I advise you not to put up pointless resistance, let alone expect to run away, or we'd rather turn you into a corpse and then bring you back — you should be well aware of the rules.” The man beside her came over, fixed his arms behind his back with a special pair of metal handcuffs, and put fetters on him. Gavin didn't struggle, as he caught sight of Mackenzie's finger steadily on the trigger, and she would fire at the slightest resistance.

He turned his head to look at Jason, as if to say something, but never said a word.

"Very well, it's time for us to get moving," Mackenzie said cheerily. The current situation was to her liking. She didn't really want to shoot him dead here, and while the outcome that awaited him wasn't much different, at least she didn't have to do it herself.

She indifferently aimed the gun at Jason's head, who wasn't tied up, and probably wasn't even necessary for them. She pondered, as if feeling a bit of pity, and finally shifted the gun to his chest. "Kiss the world goodbye, handsome."

An unfamiliar man's voice suddenly came from the other side of the room, "I didn't agree to let him go back with you people so easily. I've got a score to settle with him yet, trappers."

A man around his forties walked out from behind the door with a cigar in his mouth. His ashen blue eyes resembled the ocean before a tempest, dark and dangerous emotions churning beneath the gloomy sea, followed by three big fellows who looked like bodyguards.

"Look at the goods you guys sell, truly outstanding! I just sent him to greet my old rival's family, and he actually let his little cub run away, killing over twenty of my men for it!" The man snapped his cigar and crushed it under his foot. "I spent a lot of money to do business with you people because I considerated the perfect reputation of 'trappers.' It's a pity that you obviously didn't take that very seriously."

"My sincere apologies, Mr. Parkman. The Beast Camp shall take responsibility for this and try its best to compensate you for all your losses. You may pick another one that you're satisfied with for free. Please, talk to chief Cather for specific arrangements," Mackenzie replied succinctly and with no lack in manners.

Parkman took a puff from the new cigar handed to him by his subordinates and snorted. "Compensation? How do you people intend to compensate me for the emotional damage I've suffered?" he slowly approached the limb-handcuffed man. "I'm so sad, Gavin. I didn't expect you'd betray me. You know I've always been fond of you, even a little more than Berlo — I've kept it for six years, and you've only been with me for six months! I valued you so much, but you..."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes sorrowfully, and when he opened them again, that dull ashen blue was already completely shadowed with brutality and merciless coldness. "You hurt me, and you have to pay for it!"

He took the cigar from his mouth and pressed its burning end heavily on his lower abdomen.

The handcuffs and fetters made a series of soft sounds, and Gavin's body suddenly straightened like a taut bowstring. He clenched in pain tightly and kept his mouth shut.

"Good boy. You know that's what I like about you, you're a tough guy," Parkman smiled contentedly. "It's like what's in the movies, 'tough guy, but tenderhearted'? So, you couldn't lay a hand on the Bartlett's nine-year-old kid? Oh, how moving to see the undying light of humanity in a killer! But you're not that worthy of admiration, are you? You thought I wouldn't be able to find out who the kid really is? Bartlett's missus, both his former bodyguard and mistress. I've met her, a beautiful and shrewish wildcat. I heard she was bought from a Beast Camp a decade ago. An old classmate of yours? Did you guys fuck the attachments in the bathroom after class?" he giggled. "Tell me, how does it feel to kill your son's mother in front of him?"

Jason's eyes widened in shock. He had always been somewhat curious about the reason his boss was after him, but he didn't expect that there was such an inside story. I didn't even know he already had a son! He thought dejectedly, exposing a disillusioned expression on his face.

"No different than killing a nobody, boss."

The smile on Parkman's face disappeared as if a switch had been turned off. The pair of eyes across from him, pitch-black as a midnight desert, had none of the emotions he wanted to see, such as stirring and pain, not even a trace of fluctuation belonging to a human being. They carried a grim bloody aura, as if the scarlet eyes of a vicious beast were looking out through the pupils, ready to rob the life of any living thing it saw.

He was stared at by them, feeling his heart knotted into hard lumps slamming uncontrollably against his chest, the blood output valves forcibly shut off, and his four limbs cold to the bones!

Those are the eyes of a killing machine even more natural than the Grim Reaper!

Parkman recoiled a step back unconsciously. Immediately after, frustrated anger rolled wildly, burning all over his body. He was really scorned and humiliated by him (a commodity bought with money, a man-made machine) in such a completely disdainful way! In that instant, he actually gave birth to the fear of escaping far away, as the overriding fear for life almost swallowed him whole! This realization drove him to tremble with a wrath so frantic that he couldn't control it!

He wanted to beat him, rape him, trample him! Humiliate him by the most extreme and cruel means you can think of! Dismember his body into pieces, mash them up and stomp them hard into a patch of dirt and filth under his feet, so that he would know who the ruler between them was!

The intense thirst burned him all over, he laughed out loud at the pain!

"After-sales service miss," he panted to Mackenzie, "go back and inform your chief that I'm cancelling the goods return."

Mackenzie wrinkled her brown. "But he's already rotten. According to regulations, he must be brought back to the Beast Camp to be destroyed. The instructors would never allow any uncontrolled trapper to wander out. Your request puts us in an extremely difficult position, Mr. Parkman."

"Isn't it just destruction? Tell Cather that I'd be really happy to do it for him!" Parkman said angrily, now full of hate and impatience for anyone or anything that interrupted his release of the roaring flames within him. "Or are you just so eager to be my next goods purchase? Although I'm not sexually interested in women, I have hundreds of men who can treat you well and make you swallow your last breath with dicks all over you! You want that, huh?"

Jason felt the body of the man standing behind Mackenzie tremble slightly. He was quite close to him, unbeknownst if it was an illusion or the angle was just right, but for a moment the eyes covered beneath the brown bangs abruptly lost control, like a computer monitor with a disordered program, pulsing with blinding light and numberless lines of unknown meaning. Afterwards, he saw Mackenzie's drooping left hand touch him gently and inadvertently, until the hysterical rays of light sank back into quietness. He recovered his stagnant, taciturn look, as if living in another dimension, indifferent to all the sensory stimuli around him, except for the gun in his hand and the woman beside him. Jason guessed that his mental state was probably a little abnormal, like those autistic children seen on TV. I seem to have found something interesting, he thought to himself as he watched the two trappers' private, unacknowledged physical interaction.

Mackenzie's face did not display an angry, insulted look, and she said routinely, "Of course you may cancel the return, Mr. Parkman. He is still your private property, and you may use or destroy him as you please. However, I was ordered to take him back, even if it's a corpse."

"Excellent, then why don't you two get out now? Once he's turned into a corpse, I'll have someone to inform you to come in and take out the leftovers!"

Mackenzie was silent for a moment. She didn't really want to leave Gavin here, but she knew there was no reason or right to prevent it. He's his boss' property — we're all a boss' property if they pay to redeem us. We're trappers, well-trained tools that act on command. 'Obedience is life,' the controlling voice reverberated in her brain, its marking engraved on every nerve.

She motioned for the man behind her to follow, then opened the door and walked out.