by Jason Davis
He looked back and forth along the long stretch of highway. Other than the car quickly racing away from him, he couldn’t see anything but cornfields and more cornfields. He didn’t even see any farmhouses nearby. He was lost to the children of the corn. All he needed now was to see kids dressed like the Amish emerging, carrying sickles, and dragging him to some cross deep amongst the stalks. He would be their sacrificial scarecrow. Why the hell did he ever leave the city?
Rob walked around to the passenger side of the car, figuring that at least if a car did come along, it wasn’t going to hit him as it raced by. He had no phone, no spare tire.
He looked around. There was nowhere he could walk for help. Not for at least another five miles when he’d come across a cemetery, and another five miles after that before the first house he could remember. The idea of walking by a cemetery out in the middle of nowhere on his way to salvation didn’t seem like the most encouraging of ideas.
He looked into his car. The only type of communication he had was his handheld CB, which he wasn’t even supposed to have. Police officers weren’t authorized to listen in to the truckers’ radios, but the chief had suggested, unofficially, that Rob pick one up anyway, just so that he could keep an ear out for trouble while on duty. There was an interstate truck stop just two miles out of town, so a CB could sometimes help gauge when things were going to go bad.
Rob looked at it. Yeah, he would be able to communicate with someone…if they were within five miles. Wasn’t going to do much good on an untraveled highway.
Fuck my life, he thought to himself.
He kicked the side of his car again, more of a frustrated tap this time. After all, he didn’t want to break his foot.
Chapter 8
The scream was loud to his ears in the quiet of the early morning. Billy grimaced as he forced the door closed. The sound was from the electronic front door to the department store that he grudgingly worked at three days out of his tortured week. The door opened just fine once the store was open for business, but when closed, it had to be manually pulled apart, then pushed back together again. Because the little wheels weren’t greased very well, and it didn’t have the electronic power pushing it, it resisted much more and squealed in protest every time.
Billy always wished Tim would actually have a maintenance man look at it, but Tim didn’t give a shit. Even if it did squeal when the store was open, he wasn’t going to invest time or money into something as trivial as the front door. Not unless some bigwig was scheduled to come to town. Then Tim would be all over that shit. That seemed like the only time he ever did anything to make the store look any better than a shithole dump that it was.
The last time the regional asshole came and checked out the store had been over two years ago. Then, Tim had employees painting the walls, the back hallway to the bathrooms, even the posts outside. All new lights had been put in throughout, and it was the last time the lights on the display shelves had been changed. Most times, those were easily forgotten about and the shelves left partially in darkness. Not that it mattered much. When the lights were active, it just showed the layer of dust caking the shelves and many of the display products.
Tim was a lazy manager. He stayed hidden in his office most of the time, so many of his employees didn’t give a shit, either. Some did put the extra effort in, although it never seemed to help. In fact, for some strange reason, the employees who worked the hardest always seemed to get shit on by Tim the most. The ones who deserved the raises and promotions, the ones who worked for it and were smart enough to do the job, always seemed to get passed over, while jackasses seemed to quickly move up the ladder.
There were also lazy bastards who didn’t do a damn thing and probably shouldn’t even have a job. With how Tim promoted people, these people should damn near have been kings. Following that philosophy, Billy didn’t know how he didn’t own the place by now. He sure as hell was the laziest of all the rest of them.
Why the hell should he care? He hated everyone and everything in that damn place, and he knew the feeling was mutual. They could all get blown to hell, which would make Billy a happy boy.
Billy closed the second door behind him and entered the front lobby of the large department store. Most days, he always muttered, “Another fucking day,” or “Time to serve my time in hell.” With that, he would typically make his way to the lobby and start another crappy day in his fucking perfect world.
Today was different, though. He was happy to be there. No, wait. He was ecstatic to be there. He even had a smile on his face. Today was going to be his fucking day, and he was going to do something he had wanted to do for a long time.
****
Billy walked into the break room in the back of store, feeling like he had floated all the way through the empty store. He hadn’t even remembered walking all the way to the back, barely acknowledging that he had.
In the break room, he had to paused, seeing Jerome sitting at the table in the center of the room. It wasn't that large of a room. The far wall contained employee lockers. Next to it was an outdated computer that still ran Windows XP somehow. On the side wall was a small counter with a sink and a microwave. The microwave door was still open, and Jerome sat at the table drinking a steaming cup of coffee, the microwave’s previous contents sitting in front of him.
Billy could smell the burrito, its stench assaulting his nostrils. The damn thing smelled foul, like week-old cheese. His stomach twisted. He was glad that he wasn’t a morning eater. He didn't believe in the most important meal of the day. If he did, he was sure that it would've spewed onto the break room floor. Not that it was unusual for Jerome to be eating a morning burrito, but there was just something about the smell of it, like it had gone bad and Jerome just hadn’t realized it. Whatever it was, it just made it so much worse than the average morning annoyance.
Billy held his breath, trying to ignore it as he continued to walk into the room.
“Hey, Bill,” Jerome said as Billy walked to his locker. Billy tried to not pay him any attention. He wasn’t ready for talking yet. He didn’t know what to say.
Hey, Jerome, you smug little shit sitting there with that early morning smile. Yeah, well, keep smiling. You and every other little asshole that works here is going to get yours today. You’ll get yours.
Yeah, he could say that to him. He bet it would wipe that smile off his face, too. However, it wouldn’t do much more than that, and it would probably tip them off that he had something special planned for the day.
“Hey,” he mumbled.
He knew it was barely audible, but his lips didn’t realize that his mind had already given the command to respond. He was just trying to get to his locker and get out. All his faculties weren’t working with him as he tried to reach that goal. If Jerome realized there was anything wrong, he didn’t respond. He just focused back on his breakfast burrito and took a big bite of it.
Billy turned away from him and started pulling out his “pocket junk” from his locker, placing it in the appropriate pockets. His pens and paper went into his pocket, he affixed his name badge to the front of his shirt, and he slung the neckband for some new lame ass promotion over his head. He was ready to go to work, which was good because he wanted to get away from that horrible smell that still plagued the room.
As he headed toward the door, Jerome set down the burrito and called out to him.
“Hey, Bill. Tim called this morning. He’s got a project for you, something I guess he talked to you about last night. Setting up some shelving in the back? I don’t know, he said he talked to you. He says he wants it done by the time he gets in.”
Shit! So Tim isn’t even here yet?!
“Um, okay. So when is Tim getting in today? I thought he opened.”
“Yeah, well, Tim is Tim. He said he had to run some errands, get some paint, and that he would be in around ten.”
“Paint? We getting a visit?” Bill asked, resting his hand on the door handle
.
“My guess would be affirmative,” Jerome said. He reached for his burrito, and Bill took the opportunity to start pulling open the door. “You okay?” He had been getting ready to take another bite when he stopped and looked at Billy. He was really looking at him this time, as though studying him.
Billy didn’t like his gaze. It made him feel uncomfortable. The heat of that gaze pushing in on him, and beads of sweat formed across his forehead. He didn’t know why he felt that way as it didn’t seem rational. Neither did the heat he felt and the wetness that had started to form in his palms.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said under his breath, turning away before Jerome could say anything else. He quickly rushed down the short hallway to the men’s bathroom. He burst into it and went straight to the sink to start washing his hands.
He also hoped the fluttering that had started in his chest would stop and take away the tightness that had started to make it hard for him to breathe.
“Fuck ‘em,” he said. “Fuck ‘em all!”
He placed his hands along the rim of the sink and leaned in against it, working to control his breathing. Finally, when he thought he had it under control, he turned to look at himself in the mirror.
“What the…” He blinked his eyes rapidly and quickly lowered his head. He reached up and pulled at his eyelid, pulling the lid out so it covered his pupil. The moisture inside would flush out his eye so any hairs, or whatever else was in there, would be cleaned out.
It was just a hair, wasn’t it? It has to be just a hair.
Billy waited until he felt he had flushed his eye enough. Then he waited for another second, continuing to blink his right eye. He opened his eyes slowly and looked into the mirror. Nothing. There was nothing there. Had he imagined it. He had to have imagined it, right?
After all, he couldn’t have seen a spider climbing out from behind his right eye. There was no way it run ran out along the corner.
“Spiders! Hell no!” he said. “No, no! No! This is going to be a good day.”
Yes… Yes, it is, said a voice in his head.
Billy ignored it. After all, he had to go put up and arrange some shelving until Tim made his way in. He couldn’t stand the man, and when Billy unveiled his big surprise, he wanted to make sure Tim was the first to see it. Billy smiled as he left the bathroom.
Chapter 9
He stood in the shadows of the rundown house, watching as the smoke from his cigarette danced in the early-morning sunlight. The smoke swayed with the wind that blew in through the broken window, then it disappeared into the darkness of the house.
It was an unsafe house to be in. It was ready for demolition as all the windows were broken and much of the wood throughout the house had rotted away. The floor was covered in fallen debris from holes in the roof. When the roof had fallen, it had created even more holes in the floor, which disappeared into a darkness. He did not want to find out what lay beneath.
He did not like being in the house. It wasn’t his to be in. But it gave him what he wanted—a view of the house across the street. From there, he could see whomever came and went, also allowing him to see into the front room. He loved that they had a large picture window, the curtains never seeming to be closed.
So he stood there, watching. He stood very still, afraid that if he moved, he'd fall through the weak floor. He had time to wait. He knew that the person he waited for would show up soon, and if he waited long enough, he would be able to catch her alone.
The bitch isn’t going to get away from me again, he thought, a smile touching the corner of his lips.
He started to flick the butt of his cigarette to the floor but stopped himself when he thought about just how flammable the house could be. Looking around, he saw a piece of metal hanging on the wall. He put the cigarette out against it, then flicked the butt out the broken window to the dead grass out front.
All he had to do was wait. He could do that. He’d already been doing that for six months, three with good behavior. He had plenty of time.
****
Lisa typically loved the feeling of the wind blowing through her hair. To her, to have her straight blonde hair blowing back with the breeze was invigorating. It would pull back, then whip around to strike her in the face. Often, she would have to reach up to pull it from in front of her eyes. Then it would again flow back and whip around to the other side.
It was always an amazing feeling, and the faster she’d push down on the pedals of her bike, the harder it would whip around. She would fly with even more momentum, which would make the wind strike at her hair with even more passion.
It was one of the reasons she loved to go riding around their small town with some of the boys. They wouldn’t do much, just ride and talk, but with how much joy she got out of riding, that was really all she needed. Most days, she felt like she could just ride her bike forever. It was almost like an extension of her. One she never wanted to be away from.
None of her other girlfriends understood why she rode her bike so much. They all just wanted to meet up at the park and swing and play around on the merry-go-round. Lisa would sometimes go with them, but she usually tried to get out of it.
Sure, being on a swing could sometimes make the wind push at her the same way. However, there was also more with riding her bike. There was freedom. Freedom away from her family, away from her brother, away from reality. She would be lost in her own little world. Her bike, her vessel to another planet.
Not that there was anything wrong with her planet, or even her family, but she liked to get away from them just the same. Nothing beat the feeling of the breeze and the freedom.
However, right now, she wasn’t feeling all that free, nor was she feeling all the good. She had lied to her aunt when she said she was feeling better. In fact, she was feeling worse. Much worse. She was now starting to think that there was something terribly wrong with her.
In the morning, it had been her stomach. The nauseating, flu-like feeling made her feel as though the world were made of sponge and every step she took, it seemed to absorb it and bend to it. Like everything around her was moving, the walls trying to step away from her. The street beneath her seemed like it was much farther way and that her feet seemed to be nowhere near it. Nothing felt steady. The whole world was in flux around her, and it was getting worse. The stomach issues seemed to be fading away now, but her head felt like it was losing touch with the rest of her senses.
Many times, she would ride her bike to school and she would be off daydreaming much of the way, but this was different. She wasn’t just drifting off. There were no unicorns running around her, and she wasn’t riding her powerful steed off to some adventure. She just didn’t feel like she was inside herself…and she didn't like it.
In fact, she thought about possibly turning back to the house and telling Tina that she really was sick. Then she would just go lay back down in her bed.
Her bed… What a wonderful thought. Her mind drifted back to the pleasant thought of her soft pillow as her hair gently fanned out over it.
After she left the house, she had made it to the end of the block before she stopped and looked back at it. Her eyes were heavy, and every muscle started to ache. She knew that her being sick made her exhausted, her joints aching as though she were, well…old. Maybe she should go back and rest. Let her muscles enjoy the soft caress of her mattress.
She nearly turned her bike around. She had even started to lift her left foot up to its pedal to make the motion to turn around. However, she started to think about Bobby. She really did want to see him. She loved to watch him run up and down the court, hustling to bust through and take a shot. He wasn’t the greatest player on the team and was often overlooked, but never by her.
She looked back at the bicycle path that lead through the woods. The sun was already making its way high into the sky, but the path still had long shadows of darkness. Not that there was much mystery. She rode on that path so many times on
the way to school, she knew every twist, every bump. If she really wanted to test herself, she probably could ride through the path blindfolded. She wouldn’t, though. She just needed to get herself moving. After all, once she hit the path, she would be out of sight of her house and she wouldn’t even think about going back to lay down.
Let’s go, a voice inside her head said. She had always been prone to imagining conversations in her head, but this voice was alien to her. A shiver went through her, like a tingling sensation through all her nerve endings. They all seemed to fire at once, every pulse a shock wave of electricity.
Go to the people. Go, go go! Each word grew with intensity and became more demanding.
A warm sensation went through her, and the pain in her joints became numb. Her body started to feel more distant, as though she were flying just above the road, and she didn’t seem to have any control over it. She could only watch as she turned the bike toward the path and started pedaling. She didn’t know how it was happening, but she didn't care, either. It was strange, but she felt good. All she wanted now was to be around people. She wanted to get around as many people as she could.
****
The man watched from the shadows of the house, a cigarette blazing between his fingers, it’s embers glowing brightly as he pulled in a long drag. The little girl was leaving. A smile crossed his face, his body tingling with excitement. The bitch was all alone. Now he could give her what she deserved.
He started to work his way through the darkness of the house, being careful to step lightly and not fall into any of the large holes in the floor. The house really did need to be torn down. He was surprised no kids had ever gone in and fallen through the floor. It just seemed like something kids would do. In fact, to get in or out, he had to go to the back of the house because there was a large hole into the basement just inside the front door. Luckily, the first time he had come into the house, he had gone through the back, seeing it when he went to leave out the front. He was glad he had. It didn’t look like something he wanted to fall into.
