Torn Read Free Page B

stairs.
    Shaking his head, Darius looked thoughtful and put down his pencil. Opening his desk drawer , he pulled out a guitar pick then extended a long arm to his guitar that perched on a stand. He lifted it to his lap, hummed a few bars, and then began to strum. Mid - song, he pulled back his hand and shook it. “Fuck.” He looked at the back of his ha n d. Directly behind his thumb was a spot of blo od. “What the. …” He sprang up and dusted five roaches from his lap. “Holy shit.” Quickly, his head jerked to the hand that held the guitar neck. Three roaches raced up his hand. Hurriedly setting down the guitar, Darius flung the insects from him and stomped at the same time. “What the hell is going on?” He turned to where his guitar had been perched all day. As he neared the stand, he could see more cockroaches scurrying around . Like an investigator, he crept over. The stand was next to a bookcase and as Darius arrived, the roaches flew behind the case. “So this is where you’re coming from.”
    Grabbing on to the shelf, Darius slid it from the wall. When he did, his face went pale.
     
***
     
    Jesse definitely could have been titled the ‘Demolition Man’. He carried a large pic k in one hand while toting a can of gasoline in the other.
    “Jesse.” Bret followed him. “What are you doing?”
    “Taking care of the… ants.”
    “B y what? Burning down the house? ”
    “Bret, the house is fifty feet away.”
    “Yeah, but those cars parked on the street aren’t. We are so getting fined.” S he st opped on the top step, refusing to go further down.
    Jesse stood on the sidewalk. “Where?”
    “There.” Bret pointed.
    “Bret, I can’t see. Tell me where.”
    As if courting danger , Casper raced down the step, pointed, and then raced back up.
    “Thanks.” Jesse grumbled then shook his head. “I see about ten ants.”
    “There’s more,” Bret said. “Underneath the sidewalk.”
    “ Well, we’ll find out. But first. …” Jesse began dousing the section of sidewalk with gasoline, then ran a small trail away from it.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Bret, if there are gazillions of ants, I want to be ready when I lift this.”
    Bret didn’t believe he was ready.
    Curiosity brought her close enough to see him and prove him wrong. Jesse placed one end of the pick into the crack in the sidewalk, and his huge frame heaved up the section. The concrete slammed back wards onto the ground .
    “Holy fuck,” he exclaimed. “Bret, look at this. Casper, take that picture.”
    Bret inched closer; so did Casper . Remaining calm momentarily, Casper took the picture.
    He repeated his earlier sentiments. “Holy fuck.”
    The small two-foot section exposed more than dirt. It looked like black moving quicksand underneath where the concrete once lay .
    “Just tell me they are mixed with the dirt. Right?” Bret inquired.
    “They have to be. Let’s see.” Holding the pick, he placed it downward. He didn’t hit soil, it sunk. “Oh, my God,” Jesse exclaimed. “They have to be at least two feet deep. At least.”
    Bret screamed when , thick and fast, the ants blanketed their way up the pick.
    Jesse dropped it into the masses of ants, then jumped back and grabbed the gas can. He dumped gasoline as he diligently flung ants from his body. Faster than the ants, he cried out for the hose, lit a match and tossed it in the ant pit. He secured himself away from th e flames, but not without his legs being covered by ants.
    He remained unnervingly rational. Bret on the other hand couldn’t even squeeze the nozzle on the hose. Luke took over in hosing down Jesse.
    The street got quite the show. Bret, Casper, and Andi were screaming. A small roaring fire was ablaze on the sidewalk, all while Luke hosed down Jesse. Someone probably thought Jesse was burned, because the paramedics were there within two minutes.
    The fire department showed up directly after and put out the little inferno. Just w hen they were about