Skorpio Read Online Free

shit?"
    Ronnie thought about Terry, his svelte blond girlfriend. She'd wanted him to go to Playa del Carmen this summer. He closed his eyes and pictured turquoise pools beneath swaying palm trees, surf rolling in off the Caribbean. He'd never been to Mexico. They would have been a mere day trip from the pyramids and Tulum, the fabled Mayan outpost on the sea.
    The bus began to rock on its springs.
    "Man that wind is strooong!" Curt said. "Grab me one of those sodas, wouldja?"
    Ronnie turned in his seat and stretched for the cooler. A three inch scorpion the color of discarded skin dropped on his wrist.
    "YAHHH!" Ronnie jerked his back so hard it struck the windshield. Curt twisted in his seat, a spear of anxiety rising from his shades.
    "What?"
    "A fucking scorpion just dropped on my hand!"
    Curt half-turned and put one knee on the seat. "What? Where?"
    Fearfully they surveyed the jumble of rubble that filled the bus' interior. No way would they know if the scorpion were inside. The junk could be hiding a dozen scorpions.
    "Fuck," Curt said. "What do we do?"
    "We gotta get it outta here, man, or we can't stay in here."
    "Aren't they supposed to be frightened of people? Maybe it'll just hide and leave us alone."
    Ronnie looked up hopefully. A scorpion crawled from between the folds of a sleeping bag and climbed to the top raising its tail in victory. Sir Edmund Hillary. This one was orange.
    "That's not the same scorpion," Ronnie said.
    "Fuck."
    "Yeah."
    Now there was no question. They had to clear the bus of scorpions or they were fucked.
    "Get that Off! out of the glove compartment," Curt said.
    Ronnie retrieved the orange and blue aerosol can. He read the directions. It said nothing about scorpions. It wasn't a poison--it was a repellant. But he couldn't think of a better idea.
    Curt picked up a pair of two foot barbecue prongs. "Okay. I'll lift the shit with these and shake it out. You blast it with the Off!"
    Ronnie aimed the aerosol at the red scorp, still posing on its hill, and let fly. The scorpion scrambled off the mound, tried to make the seams but Ronnie was right there dousing it. It struggled feebly against the side door. Ronnie opened the door and used his foot to shove the arachnid out. He followed it out. It would be easier to avoid them out here than in there.
    Curt followed. They faced the interior. Curt used the barbecue tongs to drag his sleeping bag from the bus. It was light--made of nylon and filled with down. He whisked it away.
    "Fuck it. We'll just leave 'em."
    He extracted Ronnie's and did likewise. The interior was still filled with fast food wrappers, magazines, maps, zip-locs, backpacks, shoes and other bric-brac but at least they could clear a space to stand.
    Something heavy hit the windshield with a crack. Both boys heads swiveled in unison.
    "What the fuck was that?" Ronnie said.
    Curt got down on his haunches and peered beneath the bus. Sand had built up around the perimeter and he couldn't make anything out.
    Another report, this one unmistakable.
    "That's a fucking rock!" Curt declared.
    "Come on, man. No way the wind is hurling rocks."
    Curt looked at Ronnie with an expression close to panic. "There's somebody out there," he said so softly his voice was drowned by the wind.
    Ronnie caught the vibe. They leaped back into the bus and shut the door. Curt went for his White Stag bowie. Ronnie picked up the tire iron, which floated around the back with everything else.
    Curt had wanted to bring guns but Ronnie talked him out of it. They froze, waiting for the next rock. The wind turned the crown into a madman's pipe organ. The bus howled and whistled. Ronnie thought about shutting the back vents but was afraid to move. For long minutes nothing happened.
    Could they have been mistaken? Could it have been something else?
    "Maybe they fell off the ledge," Curt said.
    A shadow fell across the windshield. A mailed fist punched through the glass and uncoiled. Each finger was a scorpion's tail. The