back roads
Back roads
Bob never imagined this happening.... ever!!! He wrecked his Goddamned car
right in the middle of bum fucked Egypt. He had been playing in his old 77 Monte Carlo
all night. The big blue bomb with the souped up motor was sliding around sharp gravel
road curves like a graceful ballerina. Graceful until a curve came up Bob had forgotten
about. He had almost jumped the car off into a large ravine. A big oak tree had stopped
the vehicle’s momentum. When he went to get out he was surprised to find that no
ground was under him. The car was in a sort of see saw. The back wheels dangling
inches above the gravel road. The front wheels dangling over a steep ravine. The only
thing holding the car up was the tree. The car was still drive-able but there was no way he
could move unless he was pulled... or had a hell of a lot of weight in back to make the car
tilt back on it’s rear wheels.
Now the reality of it all was sinking in... and it sucked. He had a good idea where
he was. He was out by Independence. A small town of about 50 people. He was also near
high bridge. A bridge that spans over a very, very tall ravine. He was in between the two.
Bob was just thankful the night was pleasant. The temperature was in the mid sixties... a
slight breeze... a full moon to see by. It should have been an easy walk.
He planned to walk to independence. He knew a few people there. Someone
would pull him out even though it was one in the morning. He hoped that no houses
along the way had any mean dogs... of course now that he thought about it... there
weren’t any houses until you got to the black top about 1 mile east of town.
No nobody owned all the surrounding land. Well... nobody being the government.
This area was all “government preserve”. He had overheard stories of this area. The 10’
high chain linked fence surrounding the land which added to the stories. He grandpa told
tails of scientist having a “bunker” or something deep in these woods. In this “bunker”
they studied animals and fucked around with their chromosomes or something. He had
always laughed at the stories but tonight he wasn’t laughing. He had managed to wreck
the car in an area where the fence ran along side the sparsely traveled gravel road. The
fence was a reminder of how he laughed. He couldn’t keep his eyes off how the top of
the fence (the part wrapped with razor wire) was facing inward like a prison instead of
outward like a company. Bob whispered to himself in a slightly shaky voice “this is going
to be a long walk”.
He had lived in the country all his life, all 23 years of it, he didn’t like walking
roadways at night. Too many spooky movies and an overactive imagination have a way
of sending someone into a panic. He walked steadily for about fifteen minutes letting the
tips of his shoes search for any obstructions. There were none.
The walk turned bad when Bob found the hole in the fence. A large, almost
circular, section of the chain-linked fence had been... well it had been shredded. Torn
piece by piece. Metal clanked under his shoes as he inspected the hole with the moon’s
light. The clanking of the fence sounded like death’s chimes. He began to walk back to
his car. It seemed safer sitting in a wrecked car than it did out here in this fucked up
place. He took a few steps when he noticed something that almost sent him into a stupid,
panicky dash.
All the noises had stopped. The rustling of leaves and twigs from small animals
had stopped. The coyotes in that were howling in the distance shut up. Not even a cricket
chirped.
A light breeze was hitting his face.... the wind felt chilling as it hit the sweat
standing on his forehead. During this time the smell struck him. He had heard a person
never forgets a smell. He believed this since the odor brought back a vivid memory.
When he was a little boy he had visited a zoo. The monkeys had a certain smell. This
smell reminded him of monkey shit. Monkey shit mixed with a strange hospital like
smell mixed in with the scent of bad meat.
If he were a deer he would have had the sense to run the other direction. He
wasn’t a deer. He was a scared human who never really depended on his senses. He ran
forward but didn’t get very far. He ran into something that felt like a tree. A hairy tree. A
hairy tee that was breathing and possibly growling.
The thing was at least seven foot tall. Bob was 6’ and he was craning his head up
at a odd angle trying to see this things face. In the moonlight it looked like a cross
between a monkey and a very stupid person. Bob wasn’t scared. He honestly didn’t think
this was happening. Couldn’t be. This thing was a big foot or something. They didn’t
exist.
In his daze Bob tried to take a step back. He stumbled just as the thing swung a
fist about the size of a basketball. A claw grazed his forehead as he fell. This thing had
claws on the end of it’s nuckles instead of it’s fingers. The scrape on the forehead made
his swimming mind come back to things. He had three options. Go crazy and get
squashed. Get squashed where he sat. Run and probably get squashed. His mind chose
door number three. He rolled to his right as the fist slammed against the gravel road hard
enough to leave and indention.
He wanted to get back to his car but this thing was in the way. Bob only hand one
choice. To his right was the fence. To his left were the woods. This was a dangerous
woods packed with animals, long forgotten rusty barbed wire fences, and dead falls into
ravines that you couldn’t see until you were halfway in them. Considering his options he
chose the woods. He scrambled on his hand and knees trying to gain momentum. The
gravel bit at his palms and knee caps. Bob paid no attention to the pain and small cuts.
He couldn’t. The thing was already advancing. A huge foot swung past his ass just
missing him.
The thing was getting upset. At first it was just panting. The growls from in chest
as it took air in out sounded like someone trying to pull start a small engine. Now it was
screaming. The scream was deep and warbled in Bob’s ears. He was gained his footing
and was off running. He took to the woods. He entered thankful that he didn’t have
barbed wire dig into his legs. His mind warned to be careful. He slammed and scramble
through the woods like a mad man. In that instant he was very close to being mad.
While running he cut in between the narrowest spots he could. The thing would
advance until it got stuck in a gap. Once it pushed a young tree over. The tree, though
quite thick, didn’t even slow the animal down. Bob darted through a messy tangle of
thorn bushes. His face and hands began to bleed but he didn’t slow. If anything the pain
made him faster.
His mind was working faster than his feet. He was thinking about a few years ago
when his dad bought some banny roosters. One got loose and his dogs, two German
shepperds, tried to hunt the rooster down and rip it to shreds. Whether it was instinct or
plain meanness the dogs tried their damnedest. They chased that rooster around the
house twice before it escaped to the woods. That stupid rooster lived in those woods for
two years. Every morning and 5 am it would crow itself horse. Bob had no doubt that the
crowing was rooster for “HA HA DIP SHITS!!!!!” He remember he and his dad hee
hawing like two jack asses while the dogs chased the bird. Now the situation didn’t see
that funny.
A hand grabbed the back of his shirt. It almost seemed like a gigantic spider. In
that instant he was thankful he wasn’t being hunted by a spider. He never wouldn’t have
been able to run. The huge hairy eight legged thing would have had him for lunch. This
was no spider it was a hand, an immense hand. The hand and closed on his flannel over
shirt. Bob was always in a habit of wearing flannel shirts over his T-shirts, he was lucky.
The beast yanked back on the shirt ripping it to shreds. Another hand, a fist to be more
exact, swung around and would have crushed his skull if he wouldn’t have fell.
He was running almost blind. The moonlight was little help in the thick woods. he
did not see the ravine. Bob ran off the side of the ledge and dropped. He fell a good 20
feet. He landed and did a good job of breaking his fall with his feet then rolling. The
landing was smooth until he rolled into a large tree. He felt something in his right
shoulder pop. The pain shot down his arm. He laid there making gasping/whining noises
holding his arm in place. Resting on his back Bob watched the top on the ravine. He
observed the animal pace back and forth trying to figure out he easiest way down. Bob
was in awe of how human it’s shadow seemed. It resembled a large, well built man. He
watched until it titled his head back and screamed. The scream brought everything back.
The reality of the situation, the pain from the shoulder, the beast, everything came back
into place.
Bob looked to the left. He had seen a flash... orange. He was relieved when his
eyes came across that emergency 4-way flashed. It was his Monte Carlo. The nose up
against the tree. The car dangling over into the ravine. That old blue car was the best
thing he had seen since this whole ordeal began.
The beast screamed again. It began pounding the tree it was beside. It was pissed.
The situation seemed to agitate the animal to no end. A thick rotted limb fell from the
tree. The limb landed next to Bob and surely would have crushed his skull if it came in
contact with his head. His mind whispered “thank god for small favors”. Hooked onto the
limb was a hornet’s nest. The car, combined with the hornets nest gave Bob some hope.
Deep in the back of his mind he realized the chances of getting out of here alive were
slim.... amost possible. Now his mind wouldn’t have to deal with that. He saw a window
of opportunity.
The beast started down the hill. Graceful at first but it too slipped and tumbled
down hitting a tree with a grunt. It stood up, slowly, cautiously. Bob began to wonder if
this thing was intelligent. He hoped not.
The thing made a step advancing toward Bob. They were about 10 feet apart. Bob
had gotten to his feet. His right arm was hanging limply at his side. The pain was almost
unbearable.
Bob knew a few things about bees. They couldn’t fly at night, at least wasps
couldn’t, but they could sting. He let the animal get closer not wanting to miss. When he
was sure he couldn’t wait anymore he scooped the nest off the ground. It was light and
felt like a little plaster ball. A few of it’s inhabitants had already crawled out and began
to sting Bob’s hand. He threw anyway. He threw it as hard as he could at the monster’s
face. When the nest hit it split apart covering the things face with dozens of angry
hornets. The thing began to shriek slams it’s fists against it’s face. The solid smacking
sound was very rewarding to Bob. He began to scream “YEAH, YEAH, FUCK YOU,
FUCK YOU!!!”
With the beast busy Bob made a trot for his car. It was a good 200 feet away. He
had to hop over a few fallen trees and the scramble up the hill would be tricky with his
arm lame. He had brushed the hornets from his hand. The hand was already swelling.
Was he allergic to bee stings? He supposed it didn’t matter now. The thing was coming at
him again but at a slow pace. The monster was having trouble with the bees.
The climb up the hill was quite difficult. He fell on his bad shoulder and
screamed when the pain bolted through it. For a few frightening second he thought he
would pass out. The door opened easily and he crawled in carefully not wanting to upset
his shoulder but doing just that. The door thudded shut with loud rattle of a loose
window. He had a few things going for him now. The windows of the car were tinted.
There was no way that thing could see him in here. The car was loud. He hopped the
thing would think the car was a larger beast. He could turn the headlights on. He hopped
the creature would be scared of the lights. Bob also had a few things going against him. If
the beast had an idea he was hiding in the car it could just bust out the glass and rip him
out like a prize in a pinyatta. Second.... the car was stuck. Thirdly... he couldn’t find his
fucking keys.
He searched his pockets madly. In the process he was upsetting his shoulder and it
was warning him by giving him bolts of sharp pains. Bob was sure he had lost the keys.
Probably one of the times he had fell. Thinking back he couldn’t honestly remember how
many times he stumbled. The entire sprint thought the woods was sort off jumbled. He
considered getting out and running. The idea of running was canceled when the beast
wailed. It was close. He couldn’t see how close because of the fucking tented windows
but it was almost on him. He pictured it stumbling out through the woods. No-doubt
following his smell. His sent, the traitor that it was, lead the thing right to his car. In
reality, that was exactly what happened.
Bob had his face against the door glass trying to see through. He had thought he
seen a shape approaching moments ago. That was when the beasts face came out of the
dark and thudded up against the glass. It let out a small growl and flinch back. Bob
almost screamed. His whole body jerked. His shoulder screamed in protest and his knee
bumped something that made a jingling sound. The sound was from his keys. They had
been in the ignition the whole time.
His heart felt as if it would jump from his chest. The cold surge of adrenaline
coursed through his body. He had been on a adrenaline rush all night. He wondered if a
person could OD that way. Could he simply had a heart attack right here? He didn’t
know. He watched this thing leaning down and peering at the window like a large cop.
He could picture it saying “excuse me sir... could you role down the window. I would like
to drag you out and beat you slam you against the nearest tree until you die... sir.”
It sniffed around the edges of the door. Around the door handle. It reached out a
and reluctantly touched the window glass. Bob reached for the keys. The thing pushed.
probably a light push for it but Bob heard the glass creaking getting ready to shatter
inward. He reached for the with his left head. Reaching up over the column in an
awkward manner. The key turned but the car did nothing... nothing!
Several possibilities played through his mind. The battery came loose and busted.
He hadn’t heard the battery acid hiss though. The radiator had broke causing the
anti-freeze leaked out making the motor overheat and stick. He hadn’t seen and steam or
heard fluid gush out though. I don’t know, his mind screamed, fucking El nieno or
something.
The thing kept pushing. Not very hard just gradual pressure. The window was
buckling in. Soon it would shatter.
That’s when Bob’s mind seized on something. The steering wheel column. It was
probably jarred. He turned the key forward to running position. Used his right arm, which
he regretted later, to pull the gear shift leever down and slammed in back up in park. He
shoulder popped again but he ignored the pain. He then turned the key over the rest of the
way. The motor turned and instantly started. Bob jammed his foot on the gas and rapped
the car out. He knew it wasn’t the best thing on a motor but at that time he didn’t really
give a shit.
The thing recoiled with a whining sound. The bees were one surprise it didn’t
want another. It ran but before it did it slammed a fist down on the top of the car leaving
a meteorite like indention. He let the car idle and waited. He had a full tank of gas. He
could wait. The clock on his CD player told him it had only been 20 minutes. Someone
would be by soon and until then he would wait and hope the big foot thing would tire of
him. His night was far from over though.
After 20 minutes he dozed off. He slept about an hour and was awaken by the
sound of the beast beating his car.
It was around the back. The big foot began slamming it’s fists against the trunk.
The trunk crumpled in like tin foil. Bob started the car up again. The big foot stood his
ground and waited. It was very smart indeed. When it felt comfortable with the situation
the big foot climbed up on the trunk and hulked over the roof sniffing. It had it’s knees
planed in the crumpled trunk and it’s hands on the now sagging roof. It looked as if it
were going to do push ups before it began pounding the roof.
Something happened which was very fortunate. The weight of the animal made
the back two wheels settle back on the road. Bob put the car in reveres and floored in.
The puwhump sound of four barrels was answered by the throwing of gravel. He realized
what was going to happen. If the back wheels dug down he would be stuck. The big foot
would tear the roof of the car off like it was a can of beans... human beans if you’ll
pardon the pun.
That was when the car lurched backwards. It was barely moving at first but
gained momentum like a locomotive taking off. Within seconds the car was on all four
wheels and it was all thanks to the weight of the big foot. What a paradox!
Bob slammed on the brakes hoping the big foot would slide off the back. It didn’t.
he pictured the big foot on top of the car held on with a pair of suction cups like a
Garfield doll. The thought made him giggle in spit of the situation. The giggle stopped
when a large fist crunched the portion of roof down directly over his head. The impact
almost broke his neck. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach, sweaty and hot. He wanted
to back to sleep again. Bob felt so much more at peace when he was asleep earlier. He
was drifting when the upside down monkey/man face peered into the windshield. It
screamed again waking Bob back up. He did the one thing his confused mind could make
him do. He turned on the windshield whipers. The thing reared back. watched them for a
second with comical amazement and then slammed it’s face into the windshield,
shattering it.
Bob continued to stare blankly but his hands and feet were in action. The right
hand dropped the shifter into low one. The left tightened its grip. The left foot didn’t
budge. the right foot slammed down on the gas peddle. The car took off in a fishtailing
lurch.
These back roads were a dangerous place. Many drunk idiots and boys who
thought they were Richard petty, like out Bob, have lost their lives on these roads. Loose
grave. 90 degree turns that come out of nowhere. Huge golleys like the one bill about ran
off into. Some are 50 deep and begin at the edge of the road. Mortality lurks behind the
wheel of an automobile.
The first curve Bob made with expert precision. The car slided sideways while
the motor screamed into the night. The second curve he overcorrected. The car skidded
from ditch to ditch and finally flipped landing on it’s top.
Bob took a second to figure out what had happened. One second the car was
sliding now his face was pressed against the head liner. The roof had been crushed down
and he had barely enough room to move. Luckily he had fell over in the seat and was
laying crossways in it when the car flipped. Other wise his neck would have been
snapped.
Bob now realized the accelerator was stuck. The motor, revved to the max, began
to clank. He knew what would happen next. With the motor upside down and all the oil
seeping to the top end of the motor it would quickly lock up. Finally the motor stopped.
The only sound left was the sound of the exhaust ticking. The beast groaning.
At first Bob thought the animal was dying. He hoped the car was forcing all the
air out of it until it suffocated. He had his hopes up. He planned up laying on the ceiling
of his car, now crushed to an extreme, and waiting. He realized that wouldn’t happen
when the car began to raise up. The thing was pushing the car up like it was a dumb bell.
The car heaved a few times. Bob felt the crumpled roof give more and more as
the beast pushed on it. Finally, with one mighty roar the car was flipped back on it’s
wheels. He was tossed from the roof to the seat. The pain from his shoulder was
sickening. For a few minutes Bob had blacked out. When he woke up the beast was
hammering on the roof. It would hammer, then claw, then hammer. It hadn’t realized it
could reach through the broken windows and drag Bob out. Surpisingly, for the first time
this whole night, Bob realized he may die. The reality of the situation was far too
shocking to realize. He didn’t want to be to death and eaten. Memories of his barn cats
playing with mice until they were bored surfaced in his brain. He was close to tears,
panic, and insanity. He couldn’t figure out why he picked now to break down, after he
had been so brave.
After 10 minutes of pounding and roaring the beast wondered off. With each
thudding footstep way Bob’s mind cleared. He had been crying the entire time. Luckily
for him the top of the car had been crushed down against the head rest. The big foot,
that’s what it had to be, would have had to struggled to reach in.
He assumed the beast had thought him dead. He assumed that it had wondered
off. As said by a villain in a Steven Seigal movie “assumptions are the mother of all fuck
ups”. Bob grabbed for the steering wheel and pulled himself up to peak out of the crack
that used to be the driver side window. He came eye to eye with the big foot. It had
sneaked back. Now it could see it’s prize and how to get at it. Bob’s eye’s had adjusted to
the dark and could pick out the featured of this... big foot. It was ape light. It’s eye’s,
though sunken in, were strangely human. It’s face was covered with be stings. Bob
screamed and his screamed was answered by a warm smile. The thing actually smiled
making a shark-like grin. It’s breath stank.
Panic had left him. He was back in the strange state his mind visited when he first
met this abomination. As the thing began to rip open the roof Bob’s mind kept returning
to the creatures breath. How bad the breath had stunk. His mind whispered “wouldn’t this
have made a great mentos commercial”.
Bob could have never predicted what happened after the thing got in. His mind
was calm. He had planned on escaping out the passenger side door. The door was
jammed. That bad news was followed by a large hand clamping down on his ankle.
When the large hand started to yank the gunshots began. It sounded like the
Rambo movies he had seen only multiplied by a factor of four. He heard the beast shreak
and then the sound of it’s large body thudding against the hard packed gravel road. He
heard heavy boots clumping their way toward his hiding place followed by the loud pops
of hand guns. A voice yelled out “is anyone in the car”. It sounded like the booming
voice of a man who had given orders all his life. Bill crawled out. He whined every time
he bumped his shoulder. He had to crawl backwards from the position he was in.
---
The boy made his way out slowly. He was a skinny kid with long black hair. He
had been hurt. His right arm dangled at an odd angle. His car was destroyed. Some kind
of blue hot rod. His face was pale and covered with mud. His clothes had been ripped...
shredded was a better word. His eyes had the blank, jumpy look of someone who had
seen combat. Colonel Micheals supposed the boy had. He nodded at Parker who shot the
boy with a tranquilizer dark. The calm which settling on the boys face swept away.
Grabbed the dart, mumbled “this is bull shit” to himself and pulled it out. Shortly after he
collapsed. Micheals began to admire the boys spirit. He commanded to parker “you and
you men clean this up... I want that boy attended to”. Parker jumped to it.
The short, heavy, man with long grey hair kicked at the pop machine a few times. The
room he was standing looked like a hospital cafateria. It was not.
Professor Eugene Tinner never did like the assignment. The damn facility was
deep underground. The air always had a fowl smell to it. You couldn’t look outside and
admire the day... couldn’t even admire the shitty day. To top it all off. The damn coke
machine didn’t work right.
At the ripe age of 25 Tinner accepted this assignment. That had been 30 years
ago. He started out as an assistant and after a few years became the head scientist. He had
no idea how long Colonel Micheals had been here. Tinner wasn’t sure how old that man
was but Micheals had been here for too damn long.
Tinner was the head of the science division. captain Micheals was in charge of
the militia. They never agreed. They couldn’t even have a talk of coffee. When they
spoke arguments hid in every syllable. Maybe it was Tinners “I don’t give a shit attitude”
or Micheals “I’m in charge so nobody does nothing with out my permission”. Needless to
say they didn’t hang out and watch football on thanksgiving.
The government always mixed scientist and soldiers in a facility like this. This
mixture always made him think of putting a bunch of monkeys in a cage with a few pit
bulls. The monkeys were smarter. They would taunt the bulls and sometimes get away.
But if that pit bull ever got ya you were in danger. Scientist were by nature people who
thought of something... tested in... and then said fuck it and took a shot of it. The military
were completely backwards. Soldiers thought of nothing but how to serve the head.
Soldiers were the hands to the body of the war machine. How many times have you ever
seen people with no care for their hands count with all of their fingers? Very seldom.
They had an accident. Thor, that was their nickname for their “home made” big
foot had gotten loose. He was to be taken to the motor pool “which was the closest level
to the surface”. from there his cage was to be loaded into a Semi and taken to the facility
in Mexico. Thor was heavily sedated but had managed Break loose from the cage and
raise hell in the facility. No one is sure how he figured out the access code to open the
hidden entrance to he underground garage but thor did just that. Tinner suspected that
gentle old thor had been playing dumb and getting more bitter with each year that passed.
The sasquatch saw a window of opportunity and advance on it. This made Tinner wonder
if the other animals weren’t playing dumb. It didn’t matter. By this time tomorrow they
would all be destroyed anyway. The government handle situations like this in such a
manner, unless the head scientist had an objection. Tinner didn’t. Tanner’s people had
bigger fish to fry these days.
He rode the elevator down to the fifteenth level. The facility had 20 in all. The
bottom level jutted down into the large underground river. This river, the largest in north
America, was the sole purpose of the complex when it was built in the early 50’s. Now
the river and the monstrosities that swim around in it’s darkness are old news.
The elevator door opened. Tinner walked forward down the hallway and entered
the second to on his left. These were all interrogation rooms. He punched in his access
code and entered. The door hissed shut behind him.
The room was too plain. The walls were padded. They were a dull white. The
floor was concrete with a drain in the middle. It was also dull white. On the far side of
the room was the bathroom. A simple shower and sink stool combination sat in inside
forgotten by time. Tinner assumed it had been 10 years since anyone had even stepped
foot in this room. The boy sat in a folding chair with his face down on a rickety card
table. The dull brown table contrasted with the room but Tinner didn’t suppose it
mattered. The Colonel Stood watching the boy sleep. Tinner could see the colonel
admired the boy, he couldn’t blame him.
MIcheals was showing his relaxed side... which is looking directly at you when
you speak... almost acknowledging you human. Tinner was jittery. He couldn’t help it.
Being in the same Room with Micheals always did that. Bob sat at the table with the
corner of his forehead touching the surface. The boy was still drugged from the
tranquilizer. He made his hand crawl around on the table surface and smiled. Tinner was
reminded of his days of being stoned. Micheals broke that up quickly.
Colonel Micheals: “he’s a fine boy he would be a fine soldier”. Tinner realized
this was more than the normal Micheals. He could tell that micheals was over excited.
“He eluded that thing with only his wits. Can you imagine that?”. Micheals face turned
serious. Tinner wandered what kind of mind could change emotions so quickly. Micheals
asked “do you think we could keep him” and as if to justify himself “he would make a
fine soldier”.
Tinner had heard enough. He was trying to keep his loud mouth shut. He was
trying no to make this worse than it was... and the fact is it was already critical. “what do
you mean... keep him” Tinner asked almost choking on his can of coke. “He’s a young
man not a fucking puppy!”
Micheals flinched as if being slapped. He had never been talked back to while in
this position. His faced showed that. He took a step toward Tinner and Tinner wisely
stepped back. “you watch what you say to me civilian”. That word probably could be
compared to calling someone’s mother a whore to a soldier but it had no affect on
Tinner. “I’ve put up with you’re wise ass attitude for 25 years. I let you get away with
absurdity and have to yell at one of my soldiers for not folding his shorts correctly!”
Tinner understood everything was coming apart. He knew it. But he was at a point
where he didn’t care. “Sounds like a personal problem” Tinner said more to his can of
coke than Micheals even though he had a smile on his face. Micheals took another step.
This time Tinner held his ground. He realized Micheals could snap his neck and
get away with it.... but didn’t care. Micheals fists balled up. His face grew red and his
mouth twitched. At first he couldn’t put together words he just made an “ugh... ugh...”
noise which reminded Tinner of the principle off Bevis and butt head. That thought
amused him to no end. Suddenly, he was pinned up against the wall. He had a hand on
his throat and another twisting his wrist in an odd angle.
Micheals face was in his. Micheals was panting trying to control himself. To
micheals Tinner looked like a scarred rabbit that had never been trapped before. “I LOST
THREE FUCKING MEN TRYING TO STOP THAT THING YOU MADE....
UNDERSTAND ME!!!” Micheals was screaming. It didn’t matter the walls were sound
proof. “YOU MADE THINK I’M SOME HEARTLESS HARD ASS... BUT THOSE...
KIDS ARE LIKE... MY CHILDREN.” Tinner knew just what he was talking about. they
were hermits. They lived in this hole because it was theirs. They liked it in a sense.
Micheals felt Tinner struggle weakly... he had stirred up some anger in the old scientist
too. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!” Tinner screamed hoarsely with the hand on his throat.
“I LOST FOUR PEOPLE IN THE LAB. FOUR FUCKING PEOPLE. JANE, KIMMY,
BOB, ALEX, OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT TOO YOU BASTARD!!!”
Micheals wanted to stop this mans mouth. Things were bad enough without his
mouth running. He brought his fist back. A good punch would shut his mouth. Before he
could strike he was pushed. He stumble across the room and the side of his face thudded
against the wall. He looked to see the boy standing there. The boy was light footed and
had a way of moving without being heard. In no doubt saved his ass.
The army man came toward Bob. The man dressed like a Doctor was holding his
wrist and shaking his head. He looked back to the army man. He was advancing fast.
Micheals swung and overhand right... Bob side stepped it and while he was off balanced
his pushed Micheals down. Micheals fell trying to grab the table only pushing it away. He
was back to his feet as quickly as he fell. He swung again and clipped bob’s chin. After a
few more punches to the body and face Micheals was standing over a bleeding semi
conscious boy.
Micheals had regained his composer. The boy shouldn’t have pushed him. Even
though it kept him from striking Tinner, which would have led to a great deal of horse
shit. Micheals was a man of power. He shouldn’t be pushed. Pushed or touched. Not him.
He heard Tinner ask “what the hell are you doing”. He merely pointed at Tinner so he
would shut up.
“It seems we’re all three very emotional men” micheals chuckled “ very
emotional indeed”. He looked to Tinner who tried not to flinch but did anyway. “this boy
is very swift for such a tall lanky thing. I’m very proud of him. He could have been my...
my...” “son” Tinner interrupted. Micheals had turned to the wall so Tinner could not see
the tears. “take him to the restroom and clean him up.... bring him back around. we need
to talk” Micheals said with all the authority back in his voice. Tinner helped the boy up
who spit out a tooth without any real regard. Micheals wished he could have had a son
just like that one. Sometimes the role of life childless. As Tinner led the boy to the rooms
private bathroom Tinner said “yes we are very emotional men... and lonely too.”
Micheals heard Tinner talking to the boy. Tinner then came out and closed the
door. He was almost his old self again but a little more diplomatic. He asked almost
whispering “what do you mean... we have to talk”. Micheals whispered in return “what
are we going to do with him”
“let him free... of course” Tinner replied. He had a feeling it would come to this
micheals:“we may have to kill him... it depends on what the higher ups say”
“don’t you use this as some kind of bargaining chip so you can keep him around here...
brainwash him... make him a killer” Tinner growled back.
Micheals sighed. To Tinner it was the first unplanned thing he had seen Micheals do. “I
want him loose too. We’ll have to alter his memory but that’s childsplay these days.
We’ll have to make up a story about him... his car... and his bruises. I don’t want that
boy getting in any trouble. You see to the story... I’ll see to the trouble.”
As if cued the bathroom door opened and Bob came out. He was tired and wanted
sleep.
Sheriff Morgan had been called to the area of high bridge out by the town of
independence. Tonight, as usual, was a slow night. He didn’t mind though. He wasn’t
lazy in any way he just didn’t like being the asshole. When you busted a drunk driver you
were the ass hole. When you pulled a kid over for driving too fast you were the ass hole.
He considered his options though. In retrospect he’d rather be an ass hole than have to
pull a suffocated farmer out of a grain bin or be the first on seen when a tractor flipped
over.
Tonight’s call was very strange. A colonel... or something had called. Apparently
he was from the small game preserve out in the independence area. He said a boy had his
car stolen and was baldy beaten. There were gaps in the story and a good 4 hour gap in
the times. Morgan liked none of this.
He had been the closest when the call came in on dispatch. His deputies would
arrive in about twenty minutes. He had no doubt they were driving like idiots with their
peckers up trying to be first on scene. They were good guys but all of them lacked brains.
He, naturally was the first to arrive. Something was really wrong. A hum v, which
was flanked by two jeeps sat in the darkness of the town church parking lot. A large built
graying man in full uniform was standing next to a beat up kid. The kid had obviously
received medical attention and from he looks of him, different clothes. Military fatigues
to be exact. About six soldiers were standing behind him. It looked as if they were ready
for a battle. Morgan wondered why so many men were out on a government game
preserve.
“You’re very prompt sheriff” the man in charge said. The sheriff nodded. “I had a
call of a loud vehicle tearing up these roads.” Morgan thought he had seen the man smile
but it was gone the instant it showed. “Indeed” the Colenal said almost looking through
Morgan. “Probably the bastards who stole this poor fellows car. He has taken a blow to
the head, and sadly doesn’t remember what happened to him. We found him in a ditch.”
“What are all you men doing out here? I thought this was just a preserve.” Morgan asked
watching the Colenal for any indications of lies. The man didn’t budge. He said “we were
doing through drills... shooting blanks and such. The woods are very handy for training
our boys.”
Morgan nodded. He was afraid the shit was getting deep. “Where did you find the
boy” Morgan asked. The man in charge responded in his very military voice. “we found
this gemleman on James road. The people who stole the car ran it though the security
fence on several occasions”. Morgan noticed one of the jeeps were scratched like it had
been ran though a fence. “We’ve had our medic’s look him over. He’s had a tooth
knocked out. He’s badly scratched and he has a separated shoulder.” Morgan nodded and
asked. “Why did you take so long calling?” The man answered unfazed. “In a sense...
around here we are the police. This is our land. This is ours to take car of. When a nice
fellow like this”, the Colenal motioned to the boy, “gets attacked and harmed we take it
very personally. We combed the area while he was receiving first aid. We found nothing.
That shames me... it honestly does.”
Morgan nodded. “OK... this kids cars gone and he doesn’t remember anything?”
Bob spoke up this time. “I was driving the back roads... something caught my interest... I
stopped and from then until I met the Colonel here everything is blank.”
“You’re lucky to be alive”. Morgan said. “You don’t know the half of it”. The
colonel added. “we found shoe prints which tells me at least two people made off with
the car. Are there any people around here who needed a car bad enough to hurt someone
for a car.” The sheriff thought it over. He was aware of a few lowlifes in this area but
none of them were this desperate. He shook his head. The colonel nodded in
understanding. Morgan said “well... come with me son... should we contact a loved
one... someone who would be missing you...”
Colonel micheals watched the cop motion the boy away. His soldiers doctored
everything to back their story up. The cop was sharp. He watched the cops eyes fix on the
jeep but doubted if it mattered. Only their people had been killed by the lab animal,
which was a blessing in a way. He couldn’t imagine the pains that they would have
encountered disposing of civilian bodies.
The cop car backed away. He had little doubt the deputies would soon arrive
while the sheriff took Bob away. The colonel wasn’t worried. Deputies couldn’t find
their own dicks. Brain washing had went very well with Bob. Professor Tinner had
handled that personally.
The colonel stood in the darkness. The security light for the old church parking
was light humming. He wondered about his future. He had little doubt the animal testing
would be scrapped. That wasn’t so bad. Gene splicing was old news anyway. that’s the
reason the damn big foot got out anyway. People had lost concern and wariness of it.
Tinners people are making breakthroughs in the area of space travel using man made
black holes. They could send something from this base to the base Cananda
instantaniously. The only problem was when they sent a mouse it came back out with it’s
head bitten off.
Yup... the colonel was glad the animal testing was being scrapped. All those
monstrosities would be gassed. he couldn’t imagine the destruction if the spider got out...
that thing was bigger than the damned church!
Bob never remembered that night. A few weeks later a new Corvette was
delivered to his house along with a hand written letter. In the letter the Colonel
apologized for his convenience and hoped the car would help with the loss of his
transportation.
He no longer drives back roads at night. He often feels uneasy when he’s in the
Independence area and doesn’t understand why. He also now carries a loaded hand gun at
all times.
THE END
