Hatched

by Jason Davis

  He walked back to his car and put his large boot on the back bumper. He climbed up onto the trunk of the car and stood there, hands on his hips, as the metal under him dented from his weight.

  He looked down and his face darkened as he realized what he had done to his car. He looked both directions again, same as he had done in the center of the road. This time, he tried to look over the tops of the corn to see if there were any houses.

  There was one structure maybe five miles back in the direction from which he'd come. It could have been a house, but he couldn’t really be certain. He saw trees and what may have been the white frame of a barn sticking out behind them, but he couldn’t tell. Shit, he didn’t want to walk all that way just to find out it was an abandoned barn.

  Rob jumped down from the trunk, the impact sending painful shock waves through his knees. He sure as hell wasn’t getting younger and moves like that often reminded him that he wasn’t the athlete he had once been.

  “Break 1-9, can I get a bear check. Bear check, come back.”

  Rob’s heart skipped a beat. He swung around, feeling a pop in his back. He ignored it as he reached for the radio, nearly dropping it once he grabbed it.

  “I got a bear for ya, but he needs your help, driver, if you could. Which direction are you heading?”

  There was a long silence. Rob regretted he had admitted he was a police officer. Then there was a crackle and the voice came back over the speaker.

  “I’m heading southbound. How can I be of assistance?”

  Rob smiled as he started to explain his need over the radio. I am going to have to do a lot of praying when I get home, he thought.

  ****

  When Rob felt that first cool blast of air conditioning, he felt as though he was going to pass out. It was painful, attacking his overheated temples, causing a massive migraine and a numbing sensation at the same time. He went woozy from the sudden shift from hot to cold, and the helplessness of being lost in his own body washed over him. But he knew he couldn’t show the changes swimming around in his head.

  When the large semi-truck had pulled to the side of the road just behind Rob’s car, he had to keep himself from running over to it. Instead, he had played it cool, acted like the professional police officer he was and did the slow walk. He knew he shouldn’t play hardball, as he really was desperate for the trucker’s help, but years of pulling people over outweighed the desire to be saved. It was almost like breathing, so intertwined with who he was.

  The driver didn’t seem to take any notice of it. As Rob approached, the driver already had the door open and was sitting sideways, waiting for him. If it been on an interstate, he would have gone to the passenger door, but since the road was deserted, he didn’t see the harm. It wasn’t like he had to worry about cars hitting him. He walked to the door and saw the large man staring down at him, trying to hide a smirk.

  “Car trouble?” the man had asked. Rob knew he was being a cocky ass, but he didn’t feel as though the driver was trying to be belligerent. If anything, it came across as being good-natured and like he was trying to make light of the situation.

  “You could say that. Wife trouble, car trouble. Same thing,” Rob said. He had been trying to make a joke, but as soon as he said it, he knew it didn’t come out that way. The driver just looked down at him, a confused look on his face.

  “Think you can let me use your cell phone to call for some help?” Rob asked.

  He started to move forward to climb up on the side of the truck, but stopped himself. To climb up on it would be awfully forward and invasive. Something he was good at doing while he was on the job, but he wasn’t on duty right now. He needed to work hard to try and curb his instincts. Otherwise, this guy might tell him to piss off and leave him out there.

  “Well, sure, if you want to go back about a hundred miles and pick up the pieces,” the man had said. He wasn’t smiling and actually seemed to be a little flustered. Rob frowned at him. “I slipped this morning when my knee gave out trying to climb into the truck. I had my phone in my hand. It went flying across the parking lot and was run over by another rig. My wife’s going to kill me. I just got that phone last month.”

  “Shit. You’re having nearly as good a day as I am.”

  The driver took a quick look at his car, then looked back at Rob. “I hope not. The smile returned to his lips, making Rob laugh at his implication.

  “Think you can give me a ride to somewhere I might be able to make a phone call? A truck stop or something?” Rob asked.

  “Well, there’s a diner about twenty miles down the road. I typically stop there. They have some of the best barbecue this side of the Mississippi. I guess I can drop you off there and get some lunch.” Rob smiled as the man motioned toward his passenger door. “Get in.”

  And Rob had, just to be assaulted by the air conditioner. AS much as it hurt, he didn’t complain. He knew that once his body adjusted, he would start to feel much better.

  “I’m Bruce,” the driver said.

  Rob looked over to see that the driver held out his large hand. He finally really looked at the man. He looked slightly stocky, possibly in his mid-to-late thirties, his hair already starting to recede. He was dressed in well-worn, grease-covered jeans, and wore a Chicago Bears t-shirt. How could Rob not like the man? He was a Bears fan.

  He shook the man’s hand, feeling the firmness of his grip. When Rob let go, he reached over to close the passenger door, knocking over a large binder that had been sitting on the dashboard. He closed the door, then reached down to pick up the book. He could see it was the man’s log book. The last entry had been two days ago. Rob looked over at the driver, eyebrows raised.

  “Make you a deal. You toss that log book in the back there and act like you never saw it, and I’ll buy you lunch.”

  Rob wouldn’t have said anything anyway. He was just happy to have a ride. He didn’t care if the driver was over on his hours or behind on his logs. He just wanted to get out of there.

  “Fine with me, but it’s a little early for lunch. How about breakfast. How’s their biscuits and gravy?”

  The man smiled at him. “Nearly as good as their barbecue.”

  Rob nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Rob felt the headache starting to fade as his body began to cool down. He eased back into the seat and felt the rumble of the diesel engine as the driver put the truck into gear. He had never actually ridden in a semi before. He hadn’t realized how loud they were or how much they vibrated a person’s body. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine being in one of those massage chairs.

  Rob looked over at Bruce. “Thank you.”

  He kept his eyes on the road, but smiled. “No problem.”

  Chapter 14

  Tina’s knuckles cracked against the pressure, the skin turning white from gripping the steering wheel. Her mouth was clenched, her gums hurt as her teeth ground together.

  Yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop. She felt like her whole body was clenched. She knew she was safe now, but she couldn’t bring herself to relax. Her eyes were wide open, but they were fixed on an indistinguishable point she couldn’t focus on.

  Here? She wasn’t even sure where here was. She wasn’t certain how she had gotten into her car. Why had she gotten into her car? Well, that was easy. To escape. But from what?

  Who! She knew who she had been running away from. Her ex-boyfriend, Vince.

  She was suddenly aware that her jaw hurt from more than just clenching her teeth. The left side of it felt tender, throbbed, felt as though that part of her face weighed more and wanted her to tilt her head to compensate for it.

  She blinked a couple times, trying to force wetness into her eyes, then she turned to look at herself in the rearview mirror. She looked like hell. Had she really gotten beaten this badly? She wasn’t sure. She saw the bruise already starting to form and knew he had hit her. She desperately tried to grab at the memories of what had just h
appened to her. Her breathing was erratic and her chest heaved. It felt like her heart wanted to escape. She knew she was in the middle of a panic attack, just barely able to keep herself from breaking down into hysterics. It was on the edge with another set of tears that wanted to flow through her.

  As she looked at her reflection, she saw her eyes were red and puffy from crying. Her hair was a mess. She really didn’t want anyone to see her. Maybe she should go back to the house and grab a quick shower, clean herself up before she came to talk to Jason.

  She released the steering wheel and wrapped her arms around her body. An insane giggle escaped her lips as she realized what she had just been thinking. She didn’t want to go into public for any reason. She just wanted to find a dark corner, curl up into a ball, and let the world pass her by. She would be extremely happy if she never had to go into public ever again.

  She looked around the parking lot, taking note of the cars parked there. There was only three. One she knew belonged to that old peg-legged man who came in daily, but the others she didn’t recognize.

  A shiver ran through her and she suddenly felt uneasy. Peg-leg always made her feel that way. She was always disgusted with how he looked at her, like if he were more capable, he might try something with her.

  “Ugh,” she moaned.

  She finally managed to get her breathing under control, falling back against the car seat. She closed her eyes. Vince was there, his face etched on the back of her eyelids. She knew he would always be there.

  She didn’t expect to see him so soon, and while she had hoped her leaving him was just temporary, she knew it hadn’t been. He must have felt it, too. Why else would he have come after her to take her home? Or did he come to kill her? He had that crazy look in his eyes, so it had been hard to tell.

  When he had spun her around to face him, he looked like he was possessed with anger, the grin on his face scaring her. He had looked happy to see her…but not in a good way. No, this was an excited smile like kids get when they were about to play with their toys in maniacal ways. She had become his toy, and he was going to play with her. If she were lucky, she wouldn’t live through it.

  Then he had slapped her, the back of his hand slamming into her cheek and sending her backwards. She had turned her head to see if she was going to land against any of the furniture.

  He caught her before she fell and pulled her close. It had been such a hard tug that when he had grabbed her arm, she felt his fingers digging into her flesh. She knew it would leave a bruise. He brought her up so she was inches from his face, staring into his crazy eyes. She could smell his breath, a smoker’s hot, fiery breath that reeked of days of cigarettes. She wanted to turn away, but his free hand grabbed her by the back of the neck and kept her facing him. Suddenly, he lowered his face so their lips touched. He did it so forcefully, she felt her lips cutting against her teeth. His tongue tried to pry its way through, but when it couldn’t, he pulled back. His eyes glared at her, drilling into her head.

  She didn’t know what to do. Her breath came in short gasps. Her chest heaved, and she felt his body every time she inhaled. She could feel her eyes drying out from being open so wide, but she was too afraid to blink. She was too afraid to do anything. If she could stop breathing right then, she would.

  Just the sight of him made her heart want to stop beating and play dead. That was what worked for a bear attack, right? Why couldn’t she get away with it?

  Because he already has you. That’s why, she thought.

  “Miss me?” he said, his voice a dry rasp. She knew he was angry, but what scared her was that she couldn’t hear it in his voice. It was calm, almost to the point of being soothing…which terrified her. If he showed anger, she knew he would be hitting her, maybe break a bone, but he would leave when she was too badly hurt. She knew it would be her education.

  But he was calm. Calm meant he was dangerous. It meant he had been planning on things to do with her, and she probably wouldn’t survive them. Judging by the look in his eyes, she knew he had no intention of letting her walk away.

  She saw him look up, so she turned to follow his gaze. Outside the large front picture window, she saw the old house across the street and the little patch of woods next to it. The fear registered on her face and she turned back to look at him. His smiled widened.

  “Hel-hel-hello, Vince,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper and it had shaken out of her in a couple short gasps for breath.

  “So, whatcha been up to, Tina?” he said to her.

  He started backing away from the front room, dragging her with him, getting her out of view of that large window. Whatever he had planned, he didn’t want to take the chance of getting caught doing it. She knew it didn’t matter. No one ever came down the street.

  Damn, she wished Lucy would come back.

  No, she didn’t. She didn’t want her niece to come home. She didn’t know what Vince was capable of and didn’t want Lucy getting caught up in it. She didn’t want to take the chance of her getting hurt.

  Tina already knew that she, herself, was going to get hurt…a lot. She knew by that look in his eyes that she was going to be put through a lot of pain and there was a good chance she would never see her niece, her nephew, or her sister again.

  Once they crossed the threshold into the game room, Vince spun, pulling Tina with him, propelling her into the side of the pool table. She hit it hard and almost fell on top of it.

  She had tried to reach out to keep herself from falling into it, but with him still having hold of her one arm, she was barely able to get the other out in front of her, so her body had taken much of the force. Her head slammed down onto the green felt and, for a brief second, white pain flashed through her eyes.

  Vince pressed up against her, his groin grinding into her rear end. He leaned down over her, pressing her stomach onto the pool table. He was putting all his weight on top of her, then she felt his rough, unshaven face as it rubbed against her cheek. “I’m sure you missed me,” he whispered into her ear. “Well, I’m going to be leaving soon, but I want to give you something to remember me by.”

  Yeah, he was going to be leaving, but she knew she wouldn’t be alive when he did. She hoped like hell Lucy didn’t come home. It was bad enough this son of a bitch was going to hurt her, but she didn’t want to think about him hurting Lucy.

  What the hell had I ever seen in this fucking slimeball? she thought. She couldn’t remember one single quality she had ever really liked. The asshole had been abusive when she first met him. Had she been that desperate the whole damned time?

  His weight eased off her, and she could hear him undoing his belt buckle with his free hand, holding her down with the other. She knew what was coming, and the thought of him doing her one last time before he killed her made her stomach twist in knots.

  The image of him thrusting his little penis inside her, her screaming in pain because she knew he wasn’t going to be putting it in her cunt, ran through her mind. She knew he wanted her to feel pain, and he was going to put that little piece of shit right where she told him to kiss when she had left him. She knew it, and from somewhere deep inside her, the pain in her chest burst into an explosion of built-up energy.

  It was like a switch had turned on, all her muscles suddenly energized. She was on fire. All the pain she had felt moments earlier was gone as eagerness filled her. A destructive nature overtook her pensive self, and she felt like she wanted to do some damage. For the first time in her life, she felt like she wanted to inflict pain.

  She didn’t know where this energy flowed from, but sudden realizations came with it. She suddenly felt something under her chest and remembered what it was. A pool stick. It was under her right hand. She didn’t even realize it before.

  He was still distracted with trying to get his pants down, and had even let go of her other arm to fumble with his fly. He wasn’t even watching her.

  Her hand gripped the pool stick, and in a s
udden spin, she swung. It seemed light in her hands, but she knew it was solid from the few times she had played. When it connected with his skull, it made a loud cracking sound. She hoped it had been from Vince’s skull, not the stick. Vince rocked back, stumbling with one unsteady step, then another. He lost his footing on the third step and dropped to the floor with a thump. He slumped back against the wall, his eyes glazed over and looking at her.

  She wasn’t ready to quit, though. The stick had cracked, so she discarded it to the side. She glanced back to the pool table, hoping to find another one. A rage had been released inside her and it was hungry.

  She didn’t see another stick, trying to think where the other one might have disappeared to. Jason had probably put it in his room since it was his special one with some picture of a half-naked girl along the shaft. Either that or he had taken it to the bar. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t there, but she did see the cue ball. She reached across the table and grabbed it.

  When she walked back to Vince, he was still looking up at her blankly. She didn’t care. She brought the cue ball down and smashed it against his face, hitting him across the jaw. When she pulled her hand back, she saw his cheek was torn open, part of a tooth exposed. She brought the ball down again…and again…and again. At first, she aimed toward his mouth, wanting to shatter those lips out of existence, but when she saw it was now nothing more than a bloodied mess, she started bringing the ball down on his chest and his stomach. Each time she raised the hard ball high above head and brought it down with tremendous force.

  His breath started coming in short rasps. His face was a bloodied pulp, not even recognizable as a man. She wasn’t sure how alive he was until she stepped between his legs. She brought her bare foot down, crushing his testicles. Vince screamed out.