Retaliation

Retaliation1

"Alright! Alright!  Just relax, man.  I don't want any trouble, okay?"2

"Yeah, that's right.  Keep both hands on the steering wheel.  We're gonna take a little drive.  If you keep quiet, no one will get hurt.  Not you, not me...and not your mom and sister, either."3

When he added them to the mix, I felt an added sobriety to my situation.  I felt like I had a gallon of piss in my bladder, my nerves were shot, and my eyeballs were two deserts thirsting for a storm.  I could cry and give them one, but I couldn't in front of my family.4

Plus, they were crying enough for all three of us.5

"Shut up!" he yelled at them, causing them to stifle their sobs.  "I don't want more noise in here than I need."6

My knuckles--white, burning tips of my fists--gripped the wheel with fear and anger.  If I hadn't been nice enough to pick this guy up to begin with, I wouldn't have put my family in danger.  I looked into the rear-view, catching a vision of my sister wrapped under my mother's arms, both of them folded as tightly against the door as can be physically able, as far from the third, uninvited guest on the other side.  He was slightly unshaven, decent looking apart from the four-day growth creeping down his chin and cheeks.  But honestly, it wasn't his face I was looking at via the mirror.7

It was that .22 clasped in his hand, pointed at me.8

"Staci, would you mind getting that map?  I wanna be sure I know where I'm going when we get closer to the city limits."9

He heard some rummaging in the back, and a hand jut from the rear seats, a laminated, pre-folded map of Dallas in its grasp.  He grabbed it and thanked her as she returned to her seat.10

Steve didn't like Dallas.  Never had.  Such a seedy waste of land, in his opinion.  Thankfully he didn't live there.  None of us do.  I have this lovely position on the medical staff at Holly Hill Regional, a quiet country hospital in the middle of the boondoggles, far enough away from large-city politics as possible.  The advantage of being close to home was nice, too, but having lived in a large city years before, he really didn't have much flavor for that life.11

Unfortunately for him, his sister's ob/gyn wasn't in Holly Hill.12

"Oh!  I felt it!  I felt it kick!"13

From the rearview mirror, he could see Staci's grin.  On the opposite side, his mother sat, her hand on his sister's swollen belly.  It was her first, and it was a big deal for everyone, as the child would be the first of many things--grandson, nephew, born.  So when she asked if Steve would drive her to Dallas to get one last checkup before she'd probably begin dilating, he agreed before he was able to register where she wanted to be driven.  He wasn't going to back out after accepting, of course, but he still wasn't looking forward to it.14

"Have you ever thought about going back, Steve?"15

"What do you mean?  Going back to where?"16

"You know," my mother added, "Back to Shumpert?"17

Steve sighed.  He hated Shumpert.  At Shumpert, he was stuck caring for these crotchety, elderly, hard-headed, obnoxious patients, followed by crotchety, know-it-all, hard-headed, obnoxious medical staff, with smaller choirs of crotchety, wet-behind-the-ears, hard-headed, obnoxious orderlies, RN's, and candy stripers.  That, coupled with the fear of muggings, car theft, and the occasional crazy patients in the ER, was enough to drive anyone out of their mind.18

Same crap, day-in and day-out.19

When he heard of an opening in Holly Hill, a scant 15 miles from nearest family, and 40 minutes from the farthest, he had to jump at the opportunity.  It wasn't going to be as profitable, but then again Steve was never in this profession for the money.  He couldn't think of a single thing he would miss by moving away, although he had a long line of things he couldn't wait to get away from: the Club for the Buick, the alarm system on my one-bedroom apartment uptown, the 80,000 volt stun gun he had to carry everywhere and the constant urge to purchase a firearm for more protection, just to name a quick few.20

"No, mom, I've never thought twice about it.  It's so much better being around here anyway."21

"Well, you know...you made a lot more money, and I'm sure you saw more people.  Maybe you’d finally find a nice girl and settle down..."22

"Mom, I'm about as settled down as I can get.  Now just because I don't have a girl doesn't mean I'm some wild, unruly guy, and you know that."23

"Yeah, but it would be nice to have more than one grandchild..."24

Steve rolled his eyes.  His sister--an easy 5 years difference--had met a nice man in Springand, some young vice-pres in a local bank branch, and had already begun their family.  It wasn't like he wasn't interested in the family-aspect, he just hadn't found the right person, the right time, the right place.  At least, that's what he told himself.25

"Ah, c'mon mom.  Lay off of him.  You know the real reason he's not ready for a family."26

She held her tongue long enough to lead up to the punch line, but short enough not to have either of them ask the reason why.27

"It's because he hasn't accepted that his children will never be as cute as mine."28

A round of forced chuckles floated in the car.  Steve looked over to his front seat, which was stacked five-high of medical books that he hadn't removed from his car the day before.  They were in the backseat earlier, but to give more room and comfort to his sister and mom, they opted to sit in the back, and the books take shotgun.29

The quiet returned to the car, the only sound made was the hissing of the A/C, fighting the 95 degree furnace outside.  They were driving on highway 114, a small two-lane that permitted 55 mph speeds and almost no traffic.  He considered taking the interstate, but he actually preferred the scenic route.  It was early summer, and it was already going to be a hot one in the coming months.  What a wonderful time to have a baby, he thought.30

The stretch of road was long, and heat shimmered in glistening dry patches in the distance.  The right and left were fields of grass and cattle, cud-guzzling their days away.31

Much further ahead the lone figure of a man stood on the side, miles from the nearest gas station, town, or even payphone.  He was holding a small cardboard sign with words too dark to read from their distance.  There was a small bag by his feet.32

"Hey, do ya'll think he's okay?"33

"In this heat?  He'll cook by 2," mom stated.34

"My money's on 1."35

It was only 11.36

"What do ya'll think?  Think we outta help him out?"37

There was a following quiet that made Steve think his suggestion was about as bright as taking a fork and poking it into an electrical socket.38

"When we get closer, read the sign, and look him over.  I don't think anyone should stay out here in the vacant like this."39

"Yeah, but give me your stun gun," Staci said.40

"I don't have it.  I don't need it much any more, so I left it in storage."41

"Figures."42

They coasted now, slowing down enough that reading the sign and getting a detailed look at the thumber was easy to do.  They were able to read the sign soon, which said, simply, "Dallas?"43

"Least he's going our way," he said.44

"No where else to go around here.  And that's a good 30 more miles from where we are," mom said.45

Staci, who sat nearer to the passenger door now, had the best view of the man on the side, and nodded as they got closer.46

"He's got clean clothes.  I heard that's a good sign."47

"So he's a go?" Steve asked.48

"Let's help him out."49

A short 30 feet after passing the man, Steve slowed the Buick.  The man picked up his bag and jogged to the car.  He grabbed the front door handle, but when he saw the books, he wisely chose the back instead.  He did have clean clothes, just as Staci said, and he looked like a college kid that had the worst luck with his friends--friends that probably had him participate in a frat challenge and was left in the middle of nowhere.  He was tanned, dark hair, and wore his tee-shirt and shorts in that baggy fashion.50

At least he doesn't smell, Steve thought.51

"Hello," the man said.  He had a deepening, somewhat boyish voice.52

"Hey there.  Going to Dallas?"53

"Yeah," he said, "some friends dropped me off as a prank.  I thought I'd never see a car on this road."54

"Some friends," Staci said.55

"And you're probably lucky you found us," Steve added.  "This highway doesn't get a lot of use any more."56

The man smiled, and Steve caught his reflection in the mirror.  Charming, complete with big, innocent blue eyes.57

"So...you gotta name?"58

"Jake."59

For a few minutes they all talked idly, subjects ranging from where they were headed to what they did for a living to just how bad the weather was going to be in central Texas that year.  The more they talked, the more their guard was lowered, and the more relaxed the drive became.60

At the twenty mile marker, the car resumed an idle silence.  Jake shuffled in his seat, moving the bag from his feet to his lap, opened it, and dug around inside.61

"Whatcha looking for?" Staci asked.62

"Just a little something to help me out."63

Staci glanced at her mother, who shrugged and looked back out the passenger window.  Steve checked his mirror again, caught another glimpse of Jake, who was bent over his lap, peering into his bag as he dug.  He froze then, seeming to have found what he was looking for.  He sat up, hands still inside the bag, and wore a colorless face.64

"You know," he said, "Ya'll seem like nice people...but I've got more important plans."65

"What are you--"66

Jake removed his hand, which was now filled with a reflective pewter object.  He kept it low, almost out of sight, and propped it on the arm rest between the front seats as he leaned forward, pointing it toward Steve's ribs.67

"We're going to keep driving," he said coldly.  "We're gonna be quiet.  No one is going to be brave, and no one is going to be loud.  Steve, put both hands on the wheel, and keep them there.  Everyone clear?"68

Staci nodded, biting her lip and instinctively recoiling from the man and his weapon.  Steve felt the prod of the barrel in his side, and a cold shiver clawed the back of his neck.  His mouth was instantly dry, and while he wanted to ask--to beg--for this man to relax, to put the gun away, to not do anything crazy.69

But he was tongue-tied.70

"I said, 'Is everyone clear?'"71

Staci and her mother nodded, and Jake loosed his tongue to utter, "Uh huh."72

"I'm going to have this pointed at you, Steve," he said.  "I'm going to lean back again--it's more comfortable that way--and we're going to drive to Dallas."73

"Uh, we're already h-h-headed to D-Dallas--"74

"Yes, but we're going to make a stop first.  My destination is more important.  When we get there, you're all going to get out of the car, I'm going to get in the driver's seat, and I'm going to go where I need to.  Now, I want everyone to give me their cell phones, if you have them."75

No one moved.76

"C'mon!  Now!" he shouted, breaking all of their paralyses.77

Staci pulled her cell out of her pocket, and Steve grabbed his from the dashboard holder.  She gave a slight toss, landing the phone in Jake's lap, while Steve placed his phone on the arm rest.  He returned his hand to the grey wheel, squeezing the leather grip until his fingers were white.  Jake took the phone with his empty hand and put one of them into his bag.78

"I don't want to hurt anyone.  I'm not violent by nature, but you three would not be the first people I've had to take drastic measures on, when someone wanted to play hero."  His voice was calm, cold, and convincing enough to make the three of them take him serious.  His hand was solid, unflinching or wavering, and there wasn't a scrap of nervousness in his mannerism.79

He grabbed the other phone, flipped it open and keyed in a number.  He brought the phone to his ear and waited for an answer.80

"Johnny."81

Pause.82

"Yeah, I'm on my way.  I have the stuff."83

Pause.84

"I know.  I hope my chauffeurs aren't going to be a handful, like last time."85

Staci flinched.86

Pause.87

"I dunno...probably 20 minutes or so."88

Pause.89

"You know I'm not staying.  I have other plans."90

Pause.91

"Yeah...later."92

He closed the phone.  Dropped it in the bag.  Leaned back.  Stared at Steve.93

Steve looked at the mirror, catching eyes with Jake, who glared at him.94

"Uh, Jake...you know, you don't have to--"95

Jake jabbed the gun forward, shutting Steve up.96

"Don't talk."97

Staci was shoved as far into the opposite side as she could, almost crushing her mother, who was holding her, trying to comfort her.  She sobbed.98

Jake turned to her, staring at her with his blue eyes, which were no longer the innocent shade they were previously.  They now spoke lies and danger.99

"Sir, I don't know what is wrong, but I-I have $40, and I'm sure between all of us we have about $100.  You could just take it, p-please, and leave us be.  We don't want to cause any t-trouble."100

"What's your name?" he asked the woman.101

"I'm J-Janie."102

"Well, J-Janie," he mocked, "I don't cause trouble, but if you tick me off, you'll find that I am trouble."103

"B-but, I mean--"104

Jake leaned toward them, and they both scrunched back some more.  He leaned his arm--the one with the gun--on the arm rest beside Steve, who took another safe glance at Jake with the mirror.105

"Just...shut...up!"106

From all I could remember, Jake was quite short tempered and distracted easily.  I think I knew it best when he was yelling at my mother.  I think it was something like...107

"Alright! Alright!  Just relax, man.  I don't want any trouble, okay?"108

"Yeah, that's right.  Keep both hands on the steering wheel.  We're gonna take a little drive.  If you keep quiet, no one will get hurt.  Not you, not me...and not your mom and sister, either."109

When he added them to the mix, I felt an added sobriety to my situation.  I felt like I had a gallon of urine in my bladder, my nerves were shot, and my eyeballs were two deserts thirsting for a storm.  I could cry and give them one, but I couldn't in front of my family.110

Plus, my sister's sobbing was enough for all three of us.111

"Just shut up!" he yelled at them, causing them to stifle their sobs.  "I don't want more noise in here than I need."112

I looked back at him then, and his attention was them, and his grip on the gun--which was very close to me--loose.  I knew it was crazy, but I really didn't care.  I just couldn't imagine not trying to end this.  I was so pissed off that some crazy freak would do this.  I left Shumpert--the big city--to get away from cretins like this.  My rage mixed with my body's natural chemical courage, and I guess that's how adrenaline works—your brain shuts down, your nerves react on instinct alone.  I reacted.113

I grabbed the gun.114

Maybe it was a mixture of shock and surprise that kept him from pulling the trigger, but those same reasons kept his grip on the gun.115

"What are you...you piece of sh--"116

But I twisted with my right hand, bending his wrist at a wayward angle, pointing the gun toward the passenger door.  I don't know how he didn.t let go from there, but he didn't, and instead lifted his arm around the front seat.  I slowed the car some, my attention more on him than the road, and ignored the screams from my mother and sister.117

"Gimme that gun! Drop it! Drop it!"118

Little more than foam and saliva fell from Jake's mouth.  He stood up and leaned forward, curving his head over the seat.  It was a tug of war for the firearm, and Jake has the upper hand in this position.  Steve lifted his arm, tilting the gun up now, pointing it at the roof.119

We...we struggled...I looked out the windshield long enough to know nothing was in front of us, and then let go of the wheel completely to lean toward him.  I briefly saw my sister kicking at him, and he used his left hand to try to evade the blows.  I pushed on the arm rest to gain some leverage of my own.  I squeezed more tightly on the gun, lifting it up to shoulder length, and higher...and...120

There was a sharp report as Jake's finger brushed the trigger, forced by Steve's grip.  The women screamed, and a small hole appeared on the ceiling.121

A splash of blood matched the hole, and Jake fell limply against the seat.  His body curved forward, half hung over the headrest, and a steady drip of red spilt on the books in the front seat.122

The gun, now released from the hitchhiker's grasp, fell heavily into Steve's hand.  He grabbed the wheel with his left hand and slammed his brakes.123

I put the car in park.  I didn't know what to do now...I mean, I'm a doctor, and I've worked in ER before, but I was frozen.  I didn't want to touch this leper, this scum.  I could tell that my family shared the sentiment—their silence answered that question.  After putting the gun down, between the seats, I reached for his neck with a shaking hand.  I found his carotid, and I wasn't surprised when...when...124

God, I killed him.125

"Is...is he...?" Staci asked.126

Steve removed his hand, and looked at them in the mirror's reflection.127

"...Yeah...yeah, he's dead."128

There was a sob from the back, but it was out of shock rather than fear.  Steve didn't know who it was, and rightly didn't care.  He looked out the driver's side, seeing nothing by bland, expanded pastures and emptiness.  He turned and leaned forward, looking out through the passenger window, beyond the body curled over the seat, and saw the same scene, with a single dirt road leading to a small pond, easily a half-mile into the distance.  The road stretched further, ending beyond an expanse of forest, out of sight.129

He grabbed the door handle and stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him.130

A second door swung open.131

"Hey!  Steve, what're we gonna do?" Janie asked.132

"I dunno, Mom."  He sighed and tilted his head forward, looking down at his feet.  "I dunno...what am I supposed to do?"133

She shook her head and started to talk, but he interrupted.134

"I mean, look at him...just look at him!" he screamed, turning to the car and pointing.  “I have a dead man in my front seat, a man who threatened to take the car and take our lives if we didn't do as he asked!  What the hell am I supposed to do now?"135

Staci, who exited the car moment's before, just stood, staring deeply at a pebble.136

"Should...should we go to the police?" Janie asked.137

No one answered.138

I looked back at the bastard in the front seat.  I knew what I needed to do first.139

"I'm gonna pull him out...look for some ID."140

I don't think anyone spoke to me then...we didn't need to speak anyway.  We all just kind of knew what needed to be done.141

I remember opening the door and pulling him out--his leg got stuck between the seat when I pulled him--and when I got him outside, I laid him on his back and dug in his pockets.  I didn't find a wallet, an ID...nothing.  Mom walked to the backseat and pulled the bag out, retrieved the cells and dug deeper, finding a Ziploc bag filled with white power and a handful of additional .22 bullets.  I looked at her, and she just dropped the bag, so I knew there was nothing else.  I looked briefly at the front seat, where a small pool of what was left of his brain had dribbled onto my medical books.142

I shut the door.143

"No one saw us, you know," Staci said.144

"Nope...no one saw us," Janie agreed.145

I looked at them, and they stared back.  After a quiet minute, I faced the pond and stared.  They followed suit.  Thinking about it now still gives me the creeps, because we all knew.146

"Let's put him in the trunk."147

The sun was nearly peaking, and when they approached the pond, none of them felt the urge to speak.  They all exited the car simultaneously, pulled the body out, and Janie and Steve dragged it to the water.  Frogs chirped, and one jumped into the calm, breaking the algae-fied surface with tiny ripples.148

The ground was soft along the bank, and Steve got on his knees.  His hands became brown and filthy before long, but the earth moved easily, and he knew he only needed a shallow depth and some of the brush to cover him with.149

Staci grabbed the books, one by one by one, and brought them to the edge of the pond.  She returned to the car once more, bringing the gun and bag--with the Ziploc inside--and putting them next to the books.  Janie stood, watching the road.  Like it had been for the past two hours, the road was empty.  Void of life.150

Steve dragged the body into the shallow ditch and pointed to some brush nearby.  Janie and Staci both set upon it, collecting and placing it upon the body, and within minutes, the location looked almost natural.  Steve washed his hands in the murky water, then grabbed the books and threw them into the center of the pond.  He placed the gun into the bag, closing it and throwing it into the water, sinking in minutes.151

Then they turned around, got into the car, and drove back to the highway, back toward Dallas.152

For like a week, then a month, we watched the papers and local news to see if anyone found him.  Janie thought she found a blurb in a small one-weeker, but the description didn't match.  We looked for missing persons reports as well, but that turned out to be a dead end.153

I got the car steam cleaned--did it myself--and the body work was through a friend of Staci's husband.  He wanted to know what caused the weird hole the size of a quarter, but I always pooh-pooh'ed it as NBD...No Big Deal.  Eventually he quit asking.154

We never actually talked about the event.  The closest any acknowledgement came was when we were looking in the papers, and after a month of nothing, that faded away too.155

I'm the mayor of Holly Hill now, a community of nearly 6000 people, and I'm quite an upstanding resident of my town.  My past has passed...156

...Which is probably best, anyway.157

I mean...how would you explain away a skeleton like that?158