Run With the Hunted Read Online Free PDF

that?”
    Simpson didn’t answer. He just looked at me. He looked terrible. His face was purple and he had rope burns on his neck.
    I got up. I looked at him for a while. He didn’t move. It looked bad. I felt faint. Then I got myself together. I inhaled deeply and walked up the driveway. It was about four in the afternoon. I began walking. I walked down to the boulevard and then I kept walking. I had thoughts. I felt as if my life was over. Simpson had always been a loner. Probably lonely. He never mixed with us other guys. He was strange that way. Maybe that’s what bothered us about him. Yet, there was something nice about him anyhow. I felt as if I had done something very bad and yet in another way, I didn’t. Mostly I just had this vacant feeling and it was centered in my stomach. I walked and I walked. I walked down to the highway and back. My shoes really hurt my feet. My parents always bought me cheap shoes. They looked good for maybe a week or so, then the leather cracked and the nails started coming through the soles. I kept walking anyhow.
    When I got back to the driveway it was almost evening. I walked slowly down the driveway and into the backyard. Simpson wasn’t there. And the rope was gone. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he was somewhere else. I looked around.
    My father’s face was framed in the screen door.
    â€œCome in here,” he said.
    I walked up the porch steps and past him.
    â€œYour mother isn’t home yet. And that’s good. Go to the bedroom. I want to have a little talk with you.”
    I walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at my cheap shoes. My father was a big man, six feet two-and-one-half. He had a big head, and eyes that hung there under bushy eyebrows. His lips were thick and he had big ears. He was mean without even trying.
    â€œWhere ya been?” he asked.
    â€œWalking.”
    â€œWalking. Why?”
    â€œI like to walk.”
    â€œSince when?”
    â€œSince today.”
    There was a long silence. Then he spoke again.
    â€œWhat happened in our backyard today?”
    â€œIs he dead?”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œI warned him not to talk. If he talked, then he’s not dead.”
    â€œNo, he’s not dead. And his parents were going to call the police. I had to talk to them a long time in order to get them not to do that. If they had called the police, it would have killed your mother! Do you know that?”
    I didn’t answer.
    â€œIt would have killed your mother, do you know that?”
    I didn’t answer.
    â€œI had to pay them to be quiet. Plus, I’m going to have to pay the medical bills. I’m going to give you the beating of your life! I’m going to cure you! I’m not going to raise a son who is not fit for human society!”
    He stood there in the doorway, not moving. I looked at his eyes under those eyebrows, at that big body.
    â€œI want the police,” I said. “I don’t want you. Give me the police.”
    He moved slowly toward me.
    â€œThe police don’t understand people like you.”
    I got up from the bed and doubled my fists.
    â€œCome on,” I said, “I’ll fight you!”
    He was upon me with a rush. There was a blinding flash of light and a blow so hard that I really didn’t feel it. I was on the floor. I got up.
    â€œYou better kill me,” I said, “because when I get big enough I’m going to kill you!”
    The next blow rolled me under the bed. It seemed like a good place to be. I looked up at the springs and I had never seen anything as friendly and wonderful as those springs up there. Then I laughed, it was a panicked laugh but I laughed, and I laughed because the thought came to me that maybe Simpson had fucked a little girl under my house.
    â€œWhat the hell are you laughing at?” my father screamed. “You are surely the Son of Satan , you are not my son!”
    I saw his big hand