by Jon Athan
Spit and Die
Jon Athan
Copyright © 2017 Jon Athan
All Rights Reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For more information on this book or the author, please visit www.jon-athan.com. General inquiries are welcome.
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First Edition
WARNING
This book contains scenes of intense violence and some disturbing themes. Some parts of this book may be considered violent, cruel, disturbing, or unusual. Certain implications may also trigger strong emotional responses. This book is not intended for those easily offended or appalled. Please enjoy at your own discretion.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter One
Don't Stop Running
“Help! Somebody help me!” Mia shouted, stumbling over herself in her haste.
She ran through a field of dry crops. Nighttime darkness swallowed the area, but the sweltering Texas summer heat still lingered. The hot soil burned her bare feet. Despite the pain, she couldn't stop running. If she stopped, she knew she would die.
The young woman glanced over her shoulder and whimpered. She caught a glimpse of her pursuer—a shadowy figure wielding a chef's knife. She put some distance between herself and her pursuer, but she couldn't tell if it was enough.
Mia turned forward and shouted, “Help me! Please!”
She squeezed past a pair of dried shrubs, then she slid behind a large tree. She held her hands over her mouth as she wheezed. A second, she thought, I need a second to breathe, I can't run if I can't breathe. She lowered her head and stared down at herself, panicked breaths escaping her nostrils along with a stream of mucus. Her battered condition caused her to weep.
Mia wore white short-shorts and a tight white tank top that complemented her curvy figure. The clothing was tattered, though. Her neck, chest, arms, and legs were lacerated, riddled with cuts as if she had just crawled through a field of box cutters. She couldn't see her own face, but there was a bump over her left eye—the result of a brutal blow.
The warm summer breeze caressed her cuts, causing her to shudder uncontrollably. She moved her bloodied hands away from her face and stared at her fingers. Her fingers twitched and trembled uncontrollably. All of her fingernails were removed with a pair of pliers, leaving her gummy flesh exposed to the dirt and air.
Grimacing in pain, she whispered, “Oh, God, I'm going to die. Why did I come here? Why did I listen to her? Why?!”
She looked around the area, searching for an escape route. She was surrounded by fields of dead crops separated by swathes of overgrown grass. An odd tree stuck out from the ground at regular intervals. Her eyes widened upon spotting a small group of houses. The unlit houses rekindled her hope—survival called her name.
Before she could take a step forward, she heard a rapid thudding sound. The sound grew louder with each passing second. She peeked around the corner, then she gasped. Her pursuer quickly approached, still holding the knife.
Mia bolted away from the tree and yelled, “Stay away from me, you monster! Stay the hell away from me!”
A quarter mile—she only had to run a quarter mile. She could reach the houses in less than two minutes. Her heart rapidly pounded against her ribs. She felt as if it would burst through her chest at any moment. She felt every ounce of blood flowing through her tight veins. A warm sensation swept through her tired legs. Yet, she still jumped and waved as she approached the houses, trying her best to awaken the residents.
She shouted, “Help! Help me! I'm being chased! Call the cops, damn it!” She didn't notice any movements in the houses, though. She cried, “Why won't you wake up? Why won't you help me?”
She slowed her run to a walk as she arrived at the secluded neighborhood. The houses looked modern, but they were clearly vacant. The truth dawned on her: she had arrived at an abandoned housing development. Through the gaping openings at the front of the houses—where the windows were supposed to be installed—she could see into the empty living rooms and kitchens.
The exteriors of each house appeared to be finished, but the interiors remained incomplete. Some of the houses were missing walls, others were missing floors, and a few were missing both.
In disbelief, Mia slowly spun in a circle. No people, she thought, a dead-end. Tears dripped from her eyes as she glanced down at her feet. The road between the houses wasn't even paved. Like the area surrounding the fields, the housing development was overgrown.
She glanced up and frowned. Her pursuer ran towards her, still holding the knife over his head. Heavy breathing echoed through the area. Her pursuer didn't say a word, though. The person's ominous silence was deafening. She wanted her attacker to say something—anything—in order to calm her nerves. She sought familiarity in an unfamiliar situation.
Mia muttered, “You sick bastard...”
She ran down the unpaved street between the houses. She glanced to her right, then to her left. Barely evading her pursuer's vision, she stumbled into a house to her left. The doorway lacked a door, so she didn't have to worry about locks. Unfortunately, she wouldn't have any locks to help her, either.
She found herself in the unfurnished living room of the house. She crouched and held her hands over her mouth as she searched for the perfect hiding place. She ran to the staircase to the left, hoping to gain the higher ground.
She skidded to a stop and whispered, “Shit, shit, shit...”
The stairs were destroyed. The wood was snapped down the middle, splinters protruding every which way. Some of the steps were even missing.
She ran to the center of the living room and looked around. The closet under the stairs seemed like a decent hiding place, but there were no doors in the house. She thought about running through the neighboring archway and hiding in the kitchen, but the lack of furniture killed that option.
Mia held both of her hands over her mouth and glanced every which way. The sound of thudding footsteps surrounded the home. The footsteps emerged from every corner, as if there were several people running around the house. Death finally caught up to her. She was out of time and options.
Mia crouched in a corner in the living room. Along with her tears, her smudged eyeliner dripped over her cheeks as she held her hands over her ears. Terror glimmered in her wide eyes—pure, unadulterated fear. The footsteps drilled into her ears, like the sound of nails on a chalkboard.
She muttered, “Stop it, stop it, stop it...”
To her utter surprise, the sound of footsteps actually stopped in front of the house. Silence dominated the area.
Mia lowered her hands and gazed at the front doorway, terrified. One, two, three... fifteen—fifteen seconds passed. She gasped as her pursuer poked his head around the corner and peeked into the house.
Mia yelled, “Don't
come near me, you freak! Stay away from me!”
Of course, her pursuer disregarded her demands. The fearsome person stood in the doorway, quiet and stern. Due to the darkness, only his shadowy figure could be seen, contrasting against the milky moonlight. He clenched a knife in his right hand, ready to stab anyone at a moment's notice.
As the pursuer took his first step into the house, Mia cried, “We had a deal! It was... It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were just supposed to... to... to fuck for money. I would have done any of that kinky stuff for money, but... but...” She lifted her hands in front of her face, showcasing her mutilated fingers. She shouted, “But this is fucking crazy! That house is crazy! You're a psycho!”
Her pursuer took another step forward, unperturbed by the insults. The knife trembled in his hand due to his strong grip.
Mia crawled closer to the wall. She frantically shook her head and said, “You can't do this. No, my–my boyfriend will come looking for me. My... My pimp will come here. My friends will find me. If you do this, you... you'll never get away with it. Please, I'm begging you. Let me live.”
Again, her pursuer stepped forward. The pleas for mercy only infuriated the mysterious person. A ray of moonlight from the neighboring window opening illuminated one of the pursuer's zany blue eyes.
Mia staggered to her feet and said, “I don't want to die. Not like this. Please, don't do it. I'm begging you!” She tilted her head up to the ceiling and yelled, “Someone help me! They–They're going to kill me! Damn it, where the hell is everybody?!”
The pair stood face-to-face, no more than two meters apart. Tired but determined, Mia made a last-ditch effort to escape. As her pursuer lifted the knife up to his chest with the blade pointing at his target, Mia dashed towards the gap to her left and jumped towards the opening. Since there were no windows in the house, she didn't have to worry about any glass.
She did, however, have to worry about her attacker.
Her pursuer grabbed the back of Mia's shirt and stopped her before she could leap through the opening. The sound of fabric stretching and ripping emerged as the pursuer tugged on the young woman's shirt. The top half of Mia's body dangled out the window while her legs remained in the house. She flailed her limbs and shook her head, but to no avail.
Her pursuer thrust the knife into the small of Mia's back, directly through her spine.
Mia gasped, the hoarse breath escaping her chapped lips. She felt as if she were punched in the lower back by a heavyweight boxer. A pinching pain followed, reverberating across her entire spine. A tingling sensation swept across her body. Blood soaked her shirt and stained her hips, but she didn't feel it. She couldn't feel her waist, either. Her legs were numb, she couldn't even wiggle her toes.
The stabbing paralyzed her from the waist-down. It was a horrifying sensation. She felt like half of her had died.
As she blankly stared at the neighboring house, Mia weakly stammered, “Wha–What... What... What did–”
Her attacker pulled the knife out, causing Mia to gasp again. Blood dripped from the tip of the blade, plopping on Mia's back. The pursuer stabbed down at her again—and again. The blade penetrated her shoulder blades and lower back multiple times. All of the stab wounds gushed blood like geysers, painting her shirt and shorts red.
With one precise thrust, the attacker even drove the knife into her anus and genitalia through her shorts. Although partially paralyzed, Mia still felt the pain from each and every stab.
The attack lasted less than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity in her mind. Blood spewed from the stab wounds riddled across her body. Rivers of blood formed on her thighs, too, leaking from her mutilated crotch. A gooey, bubbling mixture of saliva and blood poured out of her mouth. Tears dripped from her hollow eyes—vacant, like the houses.
Mia died an agonizing death. Yet, the killer continued to stab at her body. He stabbed her arms, her legs, the sides of her abdomen, and even the back of her head. He defiled her dead body with the knife. Grunting and groaning echoed through the desolate housing development. The killer's attack was clearly fueled by pure rage—hatred.
After a few minutes of endless stabbing, the killer stopped. He pulled the knife out of the nape of Mia's neck. He stared at her dead body for a minute—only a minute—as if he were mentally photographing every detail of the gruesome murder.
Blood covered ninety-percent of the woman's body. A soft hissing sound even seeped out of the wounds, as if her body were leaking some sort of gas. The body occasionally twitched and trembled, but Mia didn't breathe. To a brutal killer, the portrait of murder was beautiful.
After the minute elapsed, the killer shambled out of the house and returned home, leaving his victim's body hanging over the windowsill.
Chapter Two
A Journey
Grating static buzzed through the speakers and echoed through the cab of the cherry-red pickup truck. The vocals of a pop song occasionally broke through the static, but the signal was weak. The vehicle zoomed into a dead-zone.
Her bare feet dangling out the passenger window, Nina Nakamura leaned forward and pressed the power button on the stereo. With that, the noise ended. A thumping sound emerged from the cargo bed, the wind whooshed around the truck, but it was otherwise quiet.
Nina sighed in boredom as she glanced over at her boyfriend in the driver's seat.
Lucas Santiago kept his hands at ten and two, focused on the empty road ahead. The young man—twenty-two years old, to be exact—wore a black baseball cap over his curly hair. Scruffy stubble covered most of his jaw. Sweat stained his t-shirt and his jeans were practically glued to his legs. His lean, strong physique couldn't stop him from melting in the blistering summer heat.
Feeling his girlfriend's eyes piercing into him, Lucas glanced over at Nina and asked, “What? What is it? Do I have something on my face?”
“No, no. It's just, you know, we've entered the point-of-no-return, the land of no man, the dead-zone. This is where horror movie victims go out to die.”
Lucas chuckled, then he said, “I wish. No, people don't die out here. At least, they don't die like in the movies. That would be too exciting. They die from thirst, they die from the heat, they die from boredom. We're entering the most boring part of Texas, babe. This is the... the land of nothing.”
Nina sighed again, bored and disappointed. She pouted as she placed her head on her boyfriend's shoulder. Lucas couldn't help but smile. His girlfriend acted like a big baby, sad and fatigued, but her juvenile demeanor attracted him. Besides, during serious situations, she was usually a mature and logical person. He welcomed her playful attitude. As a couple, they worked well together.
Nina—a twenty-one-year-old college student—wore denim short-shorts and a white tank top. A floppy straw hat covered her straight black hair and her sunglasses veiled her dark brown eyes. At an even five feet tall, she stood a foot shorter than her boyfriend.
Lucas asked, “Are you regretting coming on this trip with me?”
Nina glanced up at Lucas and said, “No. I mean, yeah, it's been a long time since we've been home and it's really boring at times, but I wanted to come. Why would I ever miss your big send-off trip? Speaking of this cross-country trip, how are you liking it so far? Is it everything you wanted?”
“It's more than a trip, Nina. It's an adventure into the unknown. It's a journey to adulthood.”
Nina stared at Lucas with a deadpan expression. She couldn't keep a straight face, though. She burst into a childish simper.
Keeping his eyes on the road, Lucas said, “I'm serious. You should be serious about this, too. I just graduated. I'll be heading to the police academy in a few weeks. If all goes well, I'll be a beat cop real soon. I'll eventually get promoted, which means more work. When that happens, I won't have the chance to do something like this for a long time. When you become a nurse, you won't have so much free time, either. We have to live free while we still have the chance.”
“It sounds like you
really thought this through. You're right, too. You're absolutely right. It's just... It's boring, isn't it? I wish we could have gone to Japan or Korea instead. Now that would be fun.”
“That wouldn't be a journey. You just want to go there to listen to your K-Pop music.”
“A journey to listen to live K-Pop. That's a journey, Lucas. It really is.”
The pair shared another laugh. Nina glanced out her boyfriend's window. Dried, overgrown grass and fields of dead crops covered most of the land. She shuffled in her seat and stuck her head out the passenger window, like a dog during a drive.
To her right, overgrown grass, dried fields, and a few trees swallowed the area. Scrappy bushes, dead and leafless, also protruded from the ground. The houses and farms were far and few between, separated by miles of nothing on the long, empty road.
So, Nina's eyes widened upon spotting a large, desolate house beyond a set of trees and shrubs. Due to its massive size, the house could be seen from a mile away, but only from the proper angle. Otherwise, the shrubs, the trees, and the grass shielded the house from the public's view.
Nina said, “Look, there's another one.”
Lucas glanced over at the house—a quick peek. He turned his attention back to the road and said, “Yup. Another one.”
“They must be the most bored people on the planet. They have, like, no neighbors. They probably don't get good phone reception. I wonder if they even get internet out here.”
“I have no idea. Imagine if they didn't, though. They're probably still jacking off to some old nudie mags in there. I mean, that house must be like a time capsule. Everything's probably outdated in there.”
“Well, at least it's a sign of civilization, right? There must be a town around here.”
Once again, a thumping sound emerged from the cargo bed behind them.
