Condemned by Christopher Renna (best biographies to read txt) 📗

trembled with a shake that he didn't think he'd be able to control.

The man yelled, "Do it!"

On all fours, Conner peered into the hole, hoping the moonlight illuminated the tree's hollow enough for him to see inside. But no such luck. He didn't want to feel along the bottom, so he opted to insert his hand slowly by keeping it suspended in the air. An icy flutter glided up his spine.

Could he lie and say that he'd felt the snake? What would the man order them to do next?

He slipped his hand into the darkness. Cautiously moving it from side to side, he felt for the width of the hole. Then he lowered his hand, carefully waving it from one rough-textured end to the other.

The man groaned. "Dammit, stop fucking around. Is the snake in there or not?"

Conner dragged his fingertips across the soil, his hand scraping the woody root-like threads of the hole. When he touched something thin and papery smooth but with veiny ridges, he jerked his hand out into the open air.

"What?!" the man demanded. "Did it bite you?"

"I don't think it's in there."

"Did you feel anything?"

"Yeah. The snakeskin, I think."

"Pull it outta there."

Confident the snake no longer resided in the hole, Conner reached in and yanked the snakeskin out. "See? The snake's gone."

"Holy shit!" The man excitedly danced around. "Give it to me."

He tossed the skin to the man, who snatched it from the ground and eyed it gleefully as if he'd discovered buried treasure.

The man rushed to the tree and knocked Conner to the side. "You're sure the snake isn't in there?"

"I didn't feel anything, and it didn't bite me."

"The fourth skin!" The man stretched the skin from end to end and pressed it against the symbols etched into the tree. Then he glanced around frantically as if searching for something. "Um. Okay. So, what I need to do . . . We need to pin this over the symbols. And then I need the oil to rub on to it." He suddenly froze and then glared at Conner. "You're sure the snake is gone?"

"I told you, I didn't feel anything."

The man dropped to his knees and shoved his hand inside the tree.

Remarkably, the man was more interested in the snakeskin and tree, as though the boys were no longer a concern.

Trevor nodded at Conner, and they both raced forward, ramming the man's body against the tree. Adam immediately joined them, pressing the man's face into the ragged bark.

"You son of a bitch!" Adam yelled.

Flailing about, the man screamed in anger. As he struggled in their grip, he managed to pull the trigger, shooting a bullet into the distance.

Conner shouldered all his weight into the man, pinning him to the tree while Trevor repeatedly slammed the man's hand against the bark until the gun fell to the ground.

Adam seized the weapon and pressed it to the back of the man's head. "Maybe you're just a crazy fucker," he hollered. "But you're not finishing your damn ritual tonight."

The man grunted. "You guys are fucking up big time. You don't know what the hell you're doing. But you're gonna pay."

Conner leaned into the man. "We know more than you think we do. We came here to end this. Your ritual failed."

"It didn't fail your friend."

A distortion of colors blurred Conner's sight, fueled by his rage. He elbowed the man's head. "Go to hell."

Trevor tossed the man to the ground and then lunged on top of him. "Burn the tree!" he yelled.

Conner and Adam scrambled about the ground, searching for the water bottles. At the tree, they squirted the gasoline around the base and as far up the trunk as possible.

Sucking in cold air, Conner plucked the box of matches from his pocket. He struck the match against the box, and it instantly ignited into a billow of fire. Startled, Conner dropped the match and staggered backward.

The man shouted, wrenching himself from Trevor's grasp. He crawled toward the tree, wailing, "No! Look what you've done. No. No. No. Papa!"

Leaping flames climbed higher and higher along the trunk. The tree snapped, cracking and popping loudly.

"What do we do with him?" Adam asked.

Conner watched the grief-stricken man sway on his knees.

"I don't know," Trevor said. "We never thought about him showing up here."

"We should run," Adam said. "He doesn't even know who we are."

The man wailed, "I'm so sorry, Papa."

Conner shook his head. "He's effing crazy."

Snatching a water bottle from the ground, the man suddenly rose to his feet. "This is what you did." He wildly shook the remnants of gasoline onto himself.

The fire lapped at his body, engulfing him in flames. Yet he didn't scream in agony. At the base of the tree, he raised his hands to the sky.

"Son of a bitch!" Adam shouted.

"Where's the flashlight?" Trevor asked.

Adam slipped it from his pocket.

"Okay. No evidence left behind. Let's get the water bottles and get the hell outta here."

The three frantically collected the bottles and then regrouped.

"That's it, right?" Trevor asked. "We got everything."

"Yeah," Conner said. "Let's go."

"Run like a mofo all the way to the car."

The three sprinted through the grass, across the clearing, and then along the path to the road. Reaching the asphalt, Conner glanced at the man burning against the trunk of the tree. Then Conner ran for the car.

Trevor grabbed their backpacks from the trunk and then jumped into the driver's seat. "We need to change our clothes."

"If someone called 911," Conner said, "we can't speed away like we're fleeing the scene of the crime. So we need to park close."

The burning flames of the tree could be seen from the car.

"Drive to the lake," Conner said. "Maybe the cabin we stayed at is empty. We can park there and change."

The cabin was occupied. Two cars were parked in the driveway. But the house next door appeared to be vacant. Once they parked, Adam muttered, "I can't believe he set himself on fire."

Thinking of the burning body at the base of the tree, Conner