Jumping into the shower, she cleaned up quickly. Wearing a simple white button-up blouse and a pair of faded jeans with black flats, she was in the pr...cess of pinning her hair into a bun when the phone sounded again. It was Angelo. “Did you find him?” she blurted. “Eh…no, sweetums, but I’m on my way to pick you up. You decent?” Abigail snatched her glasses off her bureau and slipped them on. “Uh, yes, but where are we going?” “We’re all meeting up at Mike’s place.” “Okay,” Abigail said. The tracksters hadn’t warned that the spider had resumed his murderous ways. ‘This time he won’t get away with it,’ whispered Zoa. In her hand she was holding her still cloth-covered spiked chain. She couldn’t unwrap it before giving the go, lest its rattling should alert the monster. They had one unexpected advantage, though. Even if it was one Zoa would rather have been without. If spiders really could see death. And the spider did see Death. Then he would assume the pale man had come for his. More

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