Message-ID: <18221eli$9812230450@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: Robert Kraft Subject: Right Turn on Black: Chapter 2 - A Night to Remember (Part 2 of 3) by Robert Kraft Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19981223020135.857.rocketmail@web305.yahoomail.com> WARNING: These stories contain graphic language, sexual actions between M/F and F/F, as well as violence, illegal substance abuse, immorality, and illegal activity. If any of the above offend you, please do not read this story. All stories are copyright. These stories are two parts fact, one part fiction. Some names and places have been changed, and a few events are slightly embellished or different (usually cause I don't remember exact words spoken), but everything is pretty close to a real situation. If you recognize yourself in this story though, it probably isn't you! Please forward comments/requests to: RKraft99@yahoo.com ***A note from the author: Please feel free to submit comments through email. I am away for the holidays, so I will not answer until next year (!). I will be transcribing more chapters after the holidays, and posting a chapter guide listing content of each chapter. BTW, if you are wondering, Chapter 33, "The Wine Tasting" is part of this same story, just much later in time. Please email me for more info. Thanks, Rob Kraft.*** Right Turn on Black by Robert Kraft Chapter 2: A Night to Remember, Part 2 Our group turned left on Ridge, and we got to Clearview drive at a dark T-intersection. Clearview drive led up to the crossroads. An egg slapped the road a few feet in front of me, leaving a streak of yolk and snot. I looked up. For a second I thought it was Luke playing a joke on us. That would be stupid though, I thought. Almost immediately, another egg hit Joe on the shoulder. They were coming from a stand of bushes in the yard on the corner. I saw an arm fling up over the top of an evergreen bush. The first quarter moon illuminated a ghostly white egg approaching quickly. Very quickly. And at my head, might I add. I yelled "incoming" even though at that point the first two eggs had made that fact crystal clear. And then ducked, hearing a whoosh as the egg sailed by and smacked the curb behind, slowly pouring off its liquid onto the road. I felt a bit dizzy from the dodge move, but I was able to collect myself. I fired a couple of rounds in the general direction of the bushes. I heard a muffled "Shit!" Joe, Clara, a dude named Peter, and I ran for cover behind a few thin trees on the yard across the street from the offending party's lair. The rest of the group headed up Clearview at a fast sprint. I noticed a small detachment of kids break out of the bushes and follow them, accompanied by various expletives from both parties. We didn't go unnoticed either, and eggs continued to rain our way for about ten seconds before they realized that they were breaking up in the trees that shielded us. "What now?" Joe said. "I don't know," said Peter, staring intently at the bushes across Ridge lane. "They might have a big stash there. We can either run up Clearview and try to outpace 'em, or we can try and go back down Ridge and cut across a few yards. I think its pretty thorny back there though." "Or we can run in and take 'em out," Joe said, ambitiously I thought. "I got two dozen eggs in my bag. What you got, Pete?" "Two dozen also," he said. "How about you, Robert?" "Three dozen. Minus two," I said. "Plus a bottle of whiskey." "Yeah man!" exclaimed Pete. "Lemme have some, please!" I pulled out the bottle and passed it to him. Clara took it after and had some more. "Hey now," I said, taking the bottle from her. A light in the house whose yard we were in turned on. "Well, we can't stay here at least," said Joe. "We could double back and cut through that yard to the left of them, and then cut through the back of their yard. If they see us, we'll peg em, and run it out." That was my idea, at least. "O.K. at least we avoid the thorns that way," said Clara. We headed quietly back down Ridge, and crossed the street out of sight of the offenders. I pulled a half-carton of eggs and put them in my pockets. Big pockets were a must for Halloween outings. We cut into some yards, and reached the yard adjacent to the one with the bushes. We could see a group of six guys that were there waiting, having a smoke, with light laughter coming to us every now and then. "If we can hear them," whispered Joe, "then they can hear us, so be quiet!" We crept into the yard, and slowly walked across, trying to avoid leaves and sticks. A stick cracked, under Peter's foot, I think it was. "Yo, look there!" was all I heard from the attackers before eggs started raining on us. I heard footsteps behind; Clara and Joe were running for it. I pulled out the four eggs I had in my left hand, and rapidly fired them off in the direction of the group of kids. They were not pursuing us yet, just yanking eggs from a stack of ghostly white cartons and hurling them with the excitement of kids in a snowball fight. I then looked over and saw three more in front of us. Probably the group that had broken off to chase the remainder of our party earlier, returning from the hunt. They were white with cream; at least we had given some as good as it seemed we were going to get. Joe and Clara had seen them and were doubling back. We made a break for the next yard from where we had come. The attackers, five of them, jumped up from the stash of weapons they had, grabbed some cans of shaving cream and as many eggs as they could handle, and followed in fierce pursuit. Branches whacked us in the face, and roots threatened to fell us at every step. Clara tripped, suddenly, and went face first to the leaves. It was a terrible time to fall. I was last. I got down. "Are you alright" I asked hurriedly, out of breath. "Yeah." I pulled her up as she said that, and started to run. She was limping a little. Shit, I thought. The attackers were close, maybe fifty feet, hurling eggs. I put her arm around my shoulder, and started off to the right, into the brambles more. Four of the attackers must not have seen us, or went after Joe and Peter for their own reasons. One kid broke off and headed towards us. I hurried up the hill, mashing twigs and bushes out of the way that arched out at us. I looked back; the assailant was no more than twenty feet behind. I picked up the pace. "Slow down," said Clara, "I feel woozy." I slowed up, but just a hair. A stream of thin white foam hit my shoulder, and then my head. He was in creaming range. His footsteps were closing in. I stopped, and started to turn to face him. Clara pulled out an egg, and wildly threw it at him. It hit him on the neck. They guy barreled into me, and I went hurtling down. "What the fuck?" I exclaimed. That was dirty. I saw Clara fall to the floor right after me. She had pulled out a can of shaving cream and shot the guy in the face. He spit out violently. "You bitch!!" was all he said, before he kicked her hand, sending her can flying into the bush. "You want me to cream your face?" he said, with anger. There was a definite sexual tone to his phrase. I suddenly felt nervous. I didn't recognize this guy. He did not go to our school, and he looked like he was a bad dude. He had a nose ring. Back then a nose ring was rare in our town, and was a city thing, and even though I know plenty of great people with nose rings now, I was scared at the time. The guy started to spray shaving cream at Clara's face. She started to get up, but the dude stepped on her chest, knocking her back down, probably winded. I was really confused. I knew Halloween was a night for fighting, but it was just in play, right? This guy was going berserk. "Yo, asshole, lay off!" I said. "Shut up, fucker." He aimed the spray at my face. I felt a stinging in my eyes, and couldn't see well. "Fuck you." I said. I started to get up. I felt a foot violently hit my chest. I fell back, shielding my eyes. This guy was fucked up. I reached into my pocket. I vaguely looked over and saw the guy pull out some eggs and peg Clara in the face with them. There was a small whimper coming from Clara. I pulled out my shaving cream can. The guy got down on his knees and started to slap Clara, and touch her tits. "You bitch, I'll fuck you if that's what you want. You think you can fuck with me? I'll fuck you better than this mo fo can!" I was furious; this was enough to get the adrenaline really going. We were just out to have some fun, and this guy was going crazy. Blindly, I threw the can with all my might at where I thought the guy was kneeling. I heard a thunk, and a muffled cry. I sat up, with limited vision, and saw the guy clutching his head. He was getting up. I stood up quickly and charged him, busting him against a tree. "You mother fucker, what's your fuckin' problem?" I yelled at his face. "Your bitch hit me in the face!" "Fuck you asshole, you hit us first." I punched him in the gut. I'd never punched anyone before, and it hurt like a mother. He bent over a bit. "You stupid shit, what are you doing here?" I yelled. "Fucking you up." He suddenly hit my face, digging in with his ring on my forehead. I reached up to guard my face. I saw my can on the floor, and reached down and picked it up. I'm in a goddamn fight, I thought. That was something that only bad kids did, get into fights. I gripped the can and smashed it across his head. He went down in a heap. I jumped on him, hitting him on the head with the can. With the edge. I hit him about five times, when I felt arms on my shoulders pulling me off. The edge of the can was darkened. Damn, that's probably blood, I thought. I looked back; Clara was pulling me off, and saying something. "...enough! Your gonna kill him!" she was saying. "Good. Stupid mother fucking piece of shit! I'll fuck you up, you stupid ass fucker! Fuck you!" Clara pulled me back, a bit roughly. "Quit it. Let's get outta here." I threw my can at the kid; he was face down in the leaves, gripping his head. He was stirring. Good, at least he ain't dead, I thought. We retreated back towards the adjacent yard. "You fucker, I'm gonna kick your ass!!" I heard from behind. "Whatever, asshole," I returned, feeling very bold. "Leave it, man. That's enough," said Clara. We walked out the yard, and out to Ridge Road. There was no sign of the others. I was in a daze, now that the confrontation was over. I followed Clara down Ridge and then up into the woods a bit. She sat down heavily in the leaves once we were out of sight of the road. "Shit," I said, falling to her side. "That guy was messed up," she said, a bit out of it still. "Tell me about it." "By the way, I'm Clara." "Rob. Nice to meet you." We shared a tenuous laugh, as we shook hands. "By the way, thanks for helping me out back there. I thought he was gonna, well.. . I don't know what I thought." "Yeah, well thanks for helping me out too. I would have still been there hittin' him." She wiped a glob of cream off my face. "You have a bruise on your forehead!" she exclaimed. "I do? It don't hurt." "You look a mess," she said. "You don't look too bad yourself." "I wonder if Joe and Peter got killed." "If these guys were all as fucked up as the one fucker we faced, they are probably in trouble." "Should we go find them?" Clara asked. "Probably." "Do you know those guys?" "Never seen them. Probably from the city. They had that look." "Maybe." We cleaned off a bit. I examined my bag. A few eggs had cracked, but I still had a couple dozen left. My shaving cream can was gone, left behind at the scene of the fight. "Let's try and get to the crossroads," I said. "That's where we were meeting Luke, at least. Maybe the others will head there after they fight it out." "O.K. I hope they are alright." "Me too." Suddenly we heard footsteps through the leaves. We crouched down and looked. It was Joe. He was white with cream. I yelled a soft 'Hey!!" in his direction. He swung towards us without breaking his stride. "Where you been?" he said. "Getting fucked," I answered. He looked at me appraisingly. "Looks like you got it pretty good. Shit, you got a fuckin' bruise on your face. You musta hit a mother fucker of a branch." "Worse than that. Where the hell is Pete?" asked Clara. "Coming, I hope. We got split up. Those four guys were on us for a while, and they got us with cream as you can see, but we staved em off, until we got split apart. I told Pete we'd meet up back at the corner of Ridge and Barnett." "Well, he might be there. Let's go," Clara said. As she got up the light revealed a red area on her cheek. "What the fuck is that!?" asked Joe. "What," she returned. "You have a big red spot on your face." "That fucker hit me." "What!!? Who?" "The guy who chased us. I tripped, and Rob took me up into the woods a bit. I hit him with an egg, and he went crazy. He threw us down, and started wailing on us. If Rob hadn't thrown his can at his face we'd be in deep shit now." Joe was getting very angry. "I'm gonna find that motherfucker and kick his fuckin' ass!! These guys were Brooklyn guys. They don't belong here. Where was he last?" "Leave it Joe," said Clara, calmly. "Fuck that, they are gonna pay!" "Leave it!" she said firmly. Joe relaxed a little. "How'd you guys get away?" "Rob started smashing the kids head with his can. I had to pull him off." Joe looked at me, with a strange face. "You beat him up?" "Drew blood," said Clara. I just walked on. "No shit! Fuckin' awesome!" "Not really," I said. We walked on in silence, reaching Barnett. We heard a whistle. It was Pete. Joe whistled back, and Pete appeared from behind a bush. "Shit, man where you been!?" he said, relieved to see us. He was heavily hit; globs of cream adorned his coat and pants. "Chillin' out," said Joe. "Yeah, it looks like!" "What happened to you?" "I ran for a bit," related Peter, "then ducked around a corner, made a stand, took out one of them, and then hit the road and lost the other fucker." "Nice," I said. "Yeah. This can came out perfect." He aimed at a tree 20 feet away, and send a long thick stream onto the trunk. "Wow, that's a good one." "I inserted this little tube before I burnt it up. It like doubled the range." "Well I lost my one can," I said. "Here, I got another." Peter pulled out a can, and a small length of thin red tube. "Some assembly required," he joked. "Thanks. Lemme see a lighter." Clara pulled out a lighter, and I went to work. I removed the plastic button-top to the can, and flamed the opening for a few seconds until it was pliable. Then I inserted an inch of the red tube, and molded the white plastic around it. A little more flame from the lighter melded the two plastics together and completed the job. I blew on it, tested the setting, and then aimed at the tree. It was an easy hit from 25 feet away. "Damn, man, that kicks ass!" said Joe. "Yeah, that ain't to shabby. Alright, we better get to the crossroads." "How are we gonna get by them this time?" asked Joe. "We could stay on the right," said Clara, "cut into that yard where we first hid, and then go past Clearview and cut through my yard, leading back up past them." "Sounds good to me," said Joe. We set off, back up Ridge. We stayed deep in people's yards, and passed Clearview with no problem. We were about half a block past Clearview when I was looking out at the road, and saw two figures walking openly, approaching the attacker's corner. "Wait here," I said, and ran towards them quietly. It was Luke and Debbie. "Yo!" I whisper-yelled. Luke saw me and came into the yard. "What got you guys?" he asked. "Some fuckers right up the road. City boys." "No shit. Where?" he asked as I led them back into the woods where the others waited. "At Clearview there. Most of the group ran up towards the crossroads. Me, Joe, Pete and Clara stayed back and took a beating. There were nine guys there, with a shit load of eggs." "Damn." "Are you guys alright?" asked Debbie, looking at me. "Looks like you got it in the face," she remarked. You too, I thought to myself. "Yeah, we got hit hard." I turned and showed her my bruise as we got into our temporary camp. "Wow. Did you hit a tree?" "No, I hit a fist." "Really!" said Debbie, wide eyed. "Yeah," said Clara. "Rob was helping me cause I tripped and hurt my ankle a bit. This asshole," she continued, emphasizing the asshole, "pushed us down and started fucking with me, touching me and shit. He was going crazy." "What happened then?" asked Luke. "Rob fucked him up with his can." "Drew blood," piped in Joe. "Damn. These guys are really out for a fight!" said Luke. "Are you alright man?" he asked me. "A little shook up, I guess." "Why are you guys back so early," said Peter. "We got hit ourselves," said Luke, giving Debbie a look. "You hit yourself with your own shaving cream?" I said, with a hint of mischief in my voice. For a second Luke eyed me. "No, dumbass, we saw to other people and got into a friendly fight." "So we turned back," continued Debbie quickly, "besides, it was too late to get to my house and still get back on time." "Right," I said. If he only knew. "Now what," said Pete. "Let's go and kick their asses." "What about their eggs. They are probably pretty mad at us right now," said Clara, nervously. "What about them." Luke reached down into his bag and pulled out the coolest shaving cream can to ever grace Halloween. It was actually two cans bound together with black tape, to which a metal handle was affixed. Spanning the tops of the two cans was a metal bar and lever. He gripped it by the handle, raised it, pointed off into the woods, and depressed the lever with his thumb. One can emitted a thick, defined stream of cream, similar to what Peter had designed with the tube. The second can let out a cone-shaped spray that covered about four square feet at a distance of ten. The cans were aligned so both shots met about 10 to 12 feet away. "Shit, that is fucked up," said Pete, crowding in to see this piece of work. "With it, I can totally hit anyone's face with no problem. Don't need to aim as much cause of the spray can, but also get a thick shot of cream with the other can. It's the best of both worlds." "That's cool," several of us said as we examined the piece. "Yo, Rob, pass me that bottle. You still got it?" "Yeah, of course I got it.' I gave it to him. "Damn, you got it, but you been hittin' it hard, my man! Was it getting heavy?" "Don't look at me," I said, looking at Clara. We laughed. "What!?" asked Clara, suspecting the conversation was about her. "Nothing. Shall we?" said Luke, as he pulled another similar shaving cream weapon from his bag. We laughed and made our way back past Clearview, crossed the street, and approached silently. Luke gave one double barrel can to Debbie and gripped the other one. We armed ourselves, can in left hand, eggs in the right. We cut into the neighboring yard again, and then charged into their lair. They were very surprised to see us. Luke's twin cans wreaked havoc. He had hit two in the eyes before they even knew what was going on, and Debbie disabled another. Pete nicely covered another's face with a thick stream. A light went on in the house, and five of the eight kids there got up and made a retreat. I saw the guy who had messed with us in the woods. He was reaching for some eggs. I fired an egg, missing, and then another, hitting his neck. He returned fire, as I aimed my spray at him. He shielded his face with his hand, and got up. I continued the barrage, as Luke turned his spray onto the hapless kid. Peter and Joe were giving chase to the five that had run, and the remaining three grabbed a carton of eggs each and made a break into the woods. A window in the house opened and we heard a man yell out gruffly: "You kids get the fuck outta here or I will call the police!" Luke, Debbie, Clara and I stashed our cans in our pockets and grabbed an armload of eggs each, and retreated back into the road and followed the direction Joe and Pete had run in pursuit. The man was yelling expletives out his window, which chased us laughing up Clearview towards the crossroads. Thirty seconds of running was enough. Joe and Pete were walking back down Clearview towards us. We collected ourselves on the side of the road as they approached. Well, we had made a killing. We had, including the eggs each of us had already brought and the ones we had stolen from the stash, 22 cartons of mostly unbroken eggs. We discarded the used ones, and condensed the cartons so we ended up with 16 full dozen. I chucked the empty cartons into a nearby trash can standing empty at the end of a house's drive, and picked up three dozen eggs and stuck them in my bag. Joe, Luke and Peter each took three as well. Clara broke a pack in half and stuck each piece in her pocket. Debbie did the same. There were two left. "I can't fit any more." "Me neither." "Let's put them in this trash. Maybe we'll need them later." I put the eggs gently into the trash, and re-covered it. We headed up the hill, light-spirited from the victory. There was no sign of the kids we had beaten, and we arrived, without incident, at the crossroads. END OF PART 2 - look for parts 1 and 3 separately Copyright 1998 by Robert Kraft -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----