Earthbound : A gripping crime thriller full of twists and supernatural suspense Fynn Perry (if you liked this book TXT) 📖

John spotted it as it lay on the ground for a moment. It was a small, plastic-wrapped pill with a red spider stamped on it––the same type of pill John had seen being made in the fulfillment center.

The men’s restroom had dark-gray walls and virtually no lighting except for some tiny bright spotlights over the washbasins and stalls. It wasn’t obvious at first, but in the far corner there was a man dressed in black with his back to John and his host.

His actions quickly made his presence known.

Cursing softly to himself, then increasingly loudly, the stranger barreled from one wall to another, punching through the drywall. He spun around when he became aware of John’s host entering, clearly not welcoming the intrusion into his space.

As he approached Mike with a slow, threatening pace, the light from a small spotlight in the ceiling caught his bald head, slick with sweat, and revealed blood dripping from a cut. His eyes had the shine of a madman.

John felt his host’s legs petrify, and he immediately recalled Jennifer reading about the violent drug-related behavior some users of the Spider’s Bite pills had experienced. He had seen the pills being sold right there in the club, and so there was more than a good chance this guy had been affected by them and, more worryingly, was about to beat Mike senseless.

Now swearing loudly at John’s host, the man unexpectedly caught sight of his reflection and changed direction. He charged headlong into a full-length mirror, smashed his forehead into it, punching and kicking it until he had to stop to wipe the blood from his eyes.

Someone entered the restroom behind him and exclaimed “Fuck!” in astonishment and immediately left. Seconds later, two heavyset bouncers pushed past John’s host and grappled with the drugged-up man, who was doing his utmost to land as many punches and kicks onto them as he could.

“Get the fuck out!” one guard shouted to John’s host.

Mike didn’t have to be told twice. His muscles suddenly twitched into action and he left as quickly as he could, still shaking.

News had spread, and a crowd had gathered outside in the corridor. Feeling safety in numbers, John’s host joined them in waiting for the show to start. They weren’t disappointed. After a few beats, the door of the men’s room burst open and the bouncers staggered out, holding the arms and legs of the man’s writhing body. Their steps faltered with the sudden, erratic twists and contractions.

At one point, their captive broke free and started punching one of the monkey-suited goons. Several female club-goers gasped, and some men cheered. It wasn’t until a third guard arrived that the guards could subdue the guy again. Even then, he somehow had the strength to oppose his arm being twisted behind his back by one of the bouncers. But not when a second guard assisted. There was a grotesque shriek of pain and then a look of even greater anger came over his face as his arm suddenly went limp. John realized with horror that the guy’s shoulder must have dislocated. With one arm immobile and his ability to resist compromised, he could no longer defy the guards and they seized the opportunity to carry him away, announcing to the crowd that they were taking him to the first aid room. John’s host followed, along with some of the crowd, to see the men disappear with their captive through a door marked STAFF ONLY.

John noted that the bouncers had not hesitated for a moment in their actions to subdue the young man, as if they had seen it all before and knew what to expect. Would an ambulance arrive to take the man to the hospital, or would they just kick him out onto the street somewhere? He had to find out, somehow.

John suspected that in a club of this size, it was likely that the room they had taken the guy into had an exit to a private external area––an area that would be used for deliveries or the discreet arrival of the emergency services. If the guy was to be taken by ambulance, John could hitch a ride and find out if the behavior had resulted from him taking the spider pills. The guy may even still have some pills on him.

John recalled the layout of the men’s restroom and the windows, high up, on two of the walls. He figured if he passed through the wall against which the stalls had been built, he would find himself outside, close to the back corner of the building and the hoped-for outside delivery area.

Luckily for John, all the excitement had made John’s host need to use the restroom again. And club patrons were still using it, despite the blood and broken mirror glass. In fact, a few had probably come in just to see the aftermath of the fight. John’s host headed for the privacy of one of the stalls. After closing the door behind him, he suddenly felt faint, managing to break his fall by leaning against the wall of the stall as he collapsed onto the floor as John left his host and passed through the building’s wall.

On the other side, John found himself in a narrow lane lined with trash containers. It was dark and the only sounds he could hear were the muffled beat of the low-frequency bass of the club and the distant noise of traffic from a main street. There were no mortals or spirits nearby.

He followed the lane to its end and peered around the corner. What he saw was a side street closed off with a high chain-link fence and a rolling vehicle access gate. It formed a secure but dimly lit area between the club and the next building. John passed through the fencing, noticing that part of it had been cut, creating a hole just big enough for someone to squeeze through. Not so secure after all.

Moving along the wall cautiously, he assessed some trash bins