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furry creature. Held it as gently as he would hold a ticking bomb. Slid it into his jacket pocket. Then closed the zipper, leaving it open enough to allow for breathing. “Okay. I did what you said. Now can I have the ring?”
    A look of disgust crossed Alex’s face. Marcus might as well have suggested eating the spider for lunch with ice cream. Alex jabbed the gun toward him, then waved toward the door. What could a kidnapping victim do? Marcus did as he was jabbed. He walked out of the house with a gunkissing his back and a spider doing what felt like push-ups in his pocket.

Chapter Eight

    The Morrisons’ car wasn’t in the driveway. Mrs. Morrison had some sort of sickness, like diabetes or kidney trouble—Alex wasn’t quite sure. What he did know was that most afternoons, Mr. Morrison drove her to the hospital for care.
    The thing about Mr. Morrison was that he was scared to death of spiders. All the kids in the neighbourhood knew the story. Last fall, he had found a big spider tucked right between his trash cans in the garage. The story changed depending upon who told it. Some said it was a deadly brown recluse spider. Others said it was nothing but a harmless daddy longlegs. Either way, everyone said the spider was as big as a man’s hand. Morrison himself claimed it was the size of a catcher’s mitt. Didn’t really matter. The point was that the spider had scared him into a heart attack. He got better in the hospital, but his heart was badly damaged. The doctors let him out with a warning: no more stress.
    Alex made Marcus cross the street. He had tucked the gun under his dad’s shirt, but he was still plenty able to poke Marcus with it.
    “Are we setting Boris loose now?” asked Marcus. He walked as slowly as he possibly could. When he realized whose driveway they were headed toward, he stopped. “Morrison’s place? The guy’s a total nut.”
    The boy grunted his agreement.
    “That’s what this is about? We’re giving the old boy a spider?”
    Alex answered with a shrug.
    “So this is some kind of revenge.” Marcus stared at the Morrison house. Slowly, he started to nod. “I can actually get behind that.”
    Alex poked him, and they walked through the side gate. The backyard looked different today. Last time Alex had been running flat out. This time he had a chance to really look around. What he saw creeped him out. Patio furniture made of sticks so sharp they could make your eyes bleed from looking at them. A small rubber duck bobbingits beak against a pool’s edge, trying to escape. The hedge that had been carved into a snowman family, now had pictures of sad faces hung on each of the tall bushes.
    “It’s like a horror movie back here,” said Marcus. “All we need is scary music.”
    Alex lifted his eyebrows in agreement and kept Marcus moving toward the house. Marcus didn’t need much pushing.
    “He’s terrified of spiders,” Marcus said. “You do know that?”
    The kid said nothing.
    “He must’ve done something real bad to you,” Marcus went on.
    Alex shot him a look that said, Shut up. With the gun, he moved Marcus up the steps. At the door, Marcus paused. “Want to see her?”
    “Wh-who?”
    “Lisa. Can I show you a picture?” When the boy didn’t object, Marcus dug into his pocket and pulled out a wallet-sized photo. Held it up.
    Alex looked at it a moment too long. Marcus ducked to one side and grabbed for the Smith & Wesson, but Alex was too quick. He jumped backand aimed the gun with two hands. He shook his head angrily, his heart pounding.
    “Sorry, sorry!” Marcus held his hands up, backing away. “I won’t do it again, okay? I’ll help you with the spider. Deal? I help you, you help me. And then we separate. Deal?”
    Alex said nothing while he caught his breath. He didn’t care that much about Marcus escaping and ratting on him. He could get sent to some kind of kid jail. Didn’t really matter. But he would never, ever let Morrison get away with killing