by Jon Athan
Dante smirked at the approaching duo. He said, “There you are. Was it busy back there or something? Hell, we were getting ready to send out the search party.” His devious cackle caused pain in his mutilated abdomen, but he couldn't help himself. As he recomposed himself, Dante said, “Well, I think we should probably get going now. We've got a long trip ahead of us. Everything's settled, right? You've got your goods?”
Austin furrowed his brow and cocked his head back like a walking pigeon. Dante was clearly jostling his way into the couple's trip. His passive aggressive technique was easily identifiable. On an unassertive person, Dante's method would work perfectly. Austin glanced at the cashier, then back at Dante. He wouldn't allow himself to be steamrolled and manipulated.
Austin said, “Did... Did you call...”
Like if he knew the question before it was asked, Dante interrupted, “Everything's settled on my end, friend. I'll get some bandages at our next stop. This rag should do until then. Let's go ahead and pay for your goods and get this show on the road. Come on.” Austin and Anna glanced at each other, nervous. Dante huffed, then he said, “Come on. You have your photography project to get to, right? Let's stop wasting time.”
Austin responded, “Listen, we offered you a ride to the nearest stop. We need our privacy, too, okay? Besides, I think you should wait here for an ambulance and the police. You should tell them your story in-person, not some cashier. You were at the...”
With a soul-penetrating stare, Dante glared at Austin and said, “Everything's settled, Austin. Drop it.”
With a raised brow, Chris asked, “Police? Did you want to use the phone?”
Anna huffed and shook her head, then she sternly said, “You damn liar. I thought everything was settled? What kind of sick game are you trying to play? Huh?”
With a vacant expression, a steady face and absent eyes, Dante glanced at Austin, Anna, and Chris. He huffed, then he burst into a guffaw. The twinge in his stomach did not hurt him. He did not show any signs of pain. Austin and Anna were perturbed by the laughter. Anna sought shelter behind Austin, peeking around his arm for a better view of the madness.
Dante wiped the tears of joy from his face, leaving bloody fingerprints on his cheeks. His smile was wiped with his sudden shift in demeanor – from joyful to menacing within a second. He pulled a switchblade from his back pocket. With the click of a button, the honed blade snapped out of the black handle. His movements were agile, his draw was swift – like a trained gunslinger drawing a revolver from a holster during a duel.
Before Austin and Anna could comprehend the horrifying situation, Dante stabbed the knife into Chris' throat. Wide-eyed, Chris weakly reached for Dante's wrist. As blood jetted from the wound, the young cashier erratically blinked and twitched. Dante pulled the knife out, then he stabbed him again. He did not stop the bloody onslaught. One after the other, the hitchhiker repeatedly stabbed the cashier's throat.
Blood spurted from Chris' neck like a garden sprinkler, dousing Dante with a crimson shower. Holding Chris up with his left hand, the hitchhiker danced in the bloody rain, swinging his hips and shaking his head. With the wag of his index finger, he would have himself an old-fashioned dance. Without stopping his awkward dance, he protruded his tongue and caught the sprinkling blood in his mouth. The pungent taste made his lips quiver with excitement.
Awed, Austin released the bottles of water and stuttered, “Wha–What... What the fuck? What are you doing?”
Teary-eyed, Anna held her trembling hands to her mouth. She was appalled by the vicious murder. The ferocity of the attack was unexpected. The eccentric dance was uncanny and derisive. 'Shocked' was an understatement. She stood in the presence of a psychopath with few viable options. Only one thought ran through her mind.
Anna gently shoved Austin and whispered, “Run, run, run...” Austin was frozen by his fear. Frustrated and frightened, Anna shouted, “Run!”
Austin tightly shut his eyes and shook his head, snapping out of his trance. He grabbed Anna's hand, forcing her to drop the snacks, then the couple rushed forward. The pair slipped and slid on the bloody floor, barely keeping their balance. Dante snarled like an angry dog as he reached for the pair with his right hand, missing them by a mere fingernail.
Austin and Anna rushed out of the gas station. The pair sprinted to the sedan, fueled by a fear of death. Anna hopped into the passenger seat and locked the door behind her. Austin entered the driver's seat. He tossed his sunglasses on the dashboard and quickly turned the key. Fortunately, the sedan was fairly new. The engine crepitated with the first turn of the key, then it settled to a purr.
Drenched in blood, Dante staggered out of the gasoline station. He shouted, “Wait! You forgot your food! You forgot your drinks!” The wheels squealed as the sedan sped away. Dante chuckled as he watched the absconding couple. He smirked and whispered, “I'll make sure to get it to you in a timely fashion. I'll make sure we see each other again soon...”
Chapter Six
Escaping Insanity
Austin tightly gripped the helm as the vehicle hurtled towards the setting sun. His arms trembled from the dread sitting on his shoulders, causing the car to swerve with each slight movement. He couldn't control his fear and trepidation. He was shocked by the violent attack. The bloody images were engraved into his mind. He could still hear the sound of the young cashier gargling his own blood.
Eyes brimming with tears, Austin whispered, “Why? Why would he kill him like that? What did he do to deserve that? He was just a cashier...” He could not answer the questions for a psychopath – the fact irked him. He stomped on the gas pedal and shouted, “Why? Goddammit, why?!”
Anna sobbed into her hands as she shuddered. She stared out the rear window. The gas station became a mere speck on the glass, shrinking with each passing meter. Although she understood the hitchhiker could not catch them without a car, she could not convince the fear to depart from her mind. She was petrified and logic couldn't smother the feeling.
Glaring down the road ahead, Austin sternly said, “Check your phone. Call the cops. Now.”
Anna nodded as she grabbed her cellphone from the floor. The phone slipped and slid out of her hands like a bar of soap in the shower. Her fidgety movements were uncontrollable. Her eyes widened upon spotting the signal symbol at the top of her phone – she was finally connected.
Anna shouted, “I have signal!”
Without easing off the pedal, Austin said, “Call them. Hurry.”
Anna quickly dialed 911. Her fingers bounced and trembled with each tap of the screen. With tears streaming down her blushed cheeks, she smiled from ear-to-ear. Relief was an overwhelming sensation. She could feel her body tingling from head-to-toe, like if an army of ants were marching across her skin.
A female operator answered, “911, what is your emergency?”
Anna said, “We just witnessed a murder at a gasoline station. It was the...” Anna glanced at her phone, realizing the call disconnected. She shouted, “Damn it!”
Austin glanced over at his girlfriend and asked, “What? What happened?”
“What the hell do you mean 'what happened?' The damn call disconnected!”
“Try again!”
The wheels howled as the sedan swerved. Austin was struggling to control the vehicle. He was losing control of his vessel and his mind. His jitters were uncontrollable, his anxiety was blatant. Anna wiped the sweat from her brow, then she wrestled with her seat belt. She wasn't going to go down with the ship – even if her captain went down with her.
With one hand on the ceiling, Anna shouted, “Slow down! You're going to kill us! Slow down, Austin!”
Austin shook his head, refusing to budge like a staunch politician. His foot remained firmly planted on the gas pedal despite his girlfriend's request. He understood the dangers of the road. Yet, he feared a madman with a knife and a bizarre taste for blood more than the pavement. He was speeding ahead, placing miles between the couple and the hitchhiker. He was
running from murder and chasing death.
Austin huffed, then he said, “I'm not slowing down...”
Anna yelled, “You'll kill us, Austin! I lost signal because you're driving so damn fast! Please, slow down!”
“I'll–I'll slow down, sure. Just give me a minute. Just one minute. I can't let him catch us, Anna, I can't let that happen to you. We have to get as far away from him as possible. You know it. Just give me one more minute, another mile or two. Please...”
Anna withdrew from the argument, like a turtle hiding in its shell. Behind or ahead, the path was fraught with danger. Like her boyfriend, she feared a brutal death more than a car accident. She was distraught by the situation, but she allowed the minute to elapse. As the seconds passed, the couple were awed to see a black car driving towards them in the oncoming lane.
Austin whispered, “Civilization...”
Anna was at a lost for words. She glanced over her shoulder, gazing at the passing car. Her eyes widened as a white truck drove down the oncoming lane – two vehicles within a mile. The sight was welcomed with open arms. She couldn't help but chuckle as she planted her palm on her brow. Austin shared the relief, smiling as he slowed the car and glanced at the side-view mirror.
Anna tapped her phone and said, “I have signal. Keep her steady, sweetie.”
A female operator answered, “911, what is your emergency?”
Anxious, Anna responded, “He–Hello. We... we need help. We just witnessed a murder at a gasoline station.”
The operator asked, “You witnessed a murder? Okay... Are you at a safe location now, ma'am?”
“Yes, yes. We–We're in our car right now. We're driving away.”
“Okay. What gasoline station exactly?”
Anna turned towards Austin and asked, “Where the hell are we?”
Austin responded, “Tell them it was Otto's Gas Station on Route 15.”
Relaying the information, Anna said, “It was Otto's Gas Station. It was in the actual store.”
The operator said, “Okay. We know the place. Can you describe the suspect and the victim?”
“The man... The killer said his name was Dante. We picked him up while he was hitchhiking, so I don't think he has a car. He was bleeding, too. He was tall and... and he had a beard. We also found a station wagon off the side of the road before Otto's Gas Station. There were more dead people inside... I think he killed–”
The operator interrupted, “Okay, ma'am, I need you to listen to me. I'm going to have a state trooper head out to Otto's Gasoline Station. Which direction are you headed now?”
“We're going... north.”
“Okay. In that case, you'll be reaching a small diner soon if you haven't passed it already. If you are not in any immediate danger, I would like you to stop there and wait for another officer. You understand? Although other officers will be patrolling and checking up, I'd like you to tell this officer everything in vivid detail. He'll be able to assist you more than I can at this moment.”
Anna sniffled, then she said, “Okay.”
The operator said, “And remember, ma'am, making a false police report is against the law.”
Anna shook her head and responded, “No, I'm not lying to you. He killed–”
Before she could finish, the call disconnected. Disappointed, Anna placed the phone on her thighs and stared down at her boots. She was despondent and dispirited. Austin rubbed her shoulder, gently kneading her skin like dough at a pizza shop.
Austin asked, “What happened?”
Anna responded, “The call disconnected again. The signal on these phones is crap. We... We have to cancel our service. We deserve better than this. We deserve to live with a sense of security, not doubt and uncertainty... Shitty phone service... Every time there's a damn killer on the loose, crappy phone service has to get in the way.”
Austin stared at his girlfriend with a furrowed brow. Her speech against modern phone companies was peculiar. He agreed, but the statement was irrelevant. His girlfriend was lost in a labyrinthine mind, searching for an escape in an endless tunnel. She was rambling, babbling any thought running through her addled brain.
Austin asked, “What did they say, Anna?”
Anna shook her head, emerging from the twisted maze. She said, “She wants us to stop at a diner. She said a state trooper will meet us there and he'll take our story. She probably thinks we're batshit crazy or something. I don't blame her, I guess.”
“The only batshit person around here is Dante. When they find the bodies in the station wagon, when they see the security footage at the gas station, they'll believe everything. I know it. Even if they believe we're crazy, we got through to them. We did it.”
Anna whispered, “You're right...”
A structure emerged on the right side of the road, growing as the couple approached. The truck-stop diner glowed like a beacon in hell, illuminated with neon lights like Vegas at night. There were three semi-trucks parked beside the small diner. The eatery was not bustling with customers, but there were enough people around to feel safe.
Anna nodded and said, “That must be it. We just have to wait and see. Maybe we can use their phone and reconnect to the operator. At least it's something, right?”
Austin clenched his jaw, then he said, “State troopers have to be swarming the interstate, Anna. They have to be getting close. We'll be safe here...”
Chapter Seven
The Diner
Austin and Anna held hands, fingers interlocked like lock and key. Austin inhaled deeply, then he shoved the door open. The door chime reverberated through the diner, bouncing off the white linoleum flooring and brown walls. The ringer was a tocsin of the past, a reminder of the bloody gasoline station massacre. Austin shut his eyes and shuddered, trying his damnedest to shrug off the shrill sound. The pair walked into the diner, then they stopped at the foyer.
The door slowly closed behind them, sealing them in a safe haven. Two men sat at the bar directly ahead, bickering over coffee and dessert. Two truckers filled two separate booths to the right, one trucker filled a booth to the left – munching and slurping. Standing beside the cash register, a cordial waitress waved at the couple from behind the bar.
The middle-aged woman appeared amiable and exhausted – working double jobs surely took a toll, but she kept a smile on her face. She stood a short five-one, curvaceous like Lombard Street. Her blonde hair, clearly dyed, was tied in a tousled bun; a black pen protruded from the bundle of hair. She wore a blue a-line dress with a white collar and shoulder-length sleeves. In cursive writing, the name tag on her chest read: Patricia. The diner had an old-fashioned vibe and she complemented it perfectly.
Austin nodded at the waitress, then he shambled towards the farthest corner to the left. Anna followed closely, trusting her boyfriend's judgment. She wanted to keep a safe distance from the entrance. Austin shared the same thought, but he also wanted a clear view of the parking lot – a strategic vantage point. The potential of a surprise visit from Dante kept him on the edge.
Austin flumped into the crimson padded seat of the final booth on the left. Anna sat directly across from him with her back to the trucker residing in the neighboring booth. Said trucker sipped his coffee, loud and proud, while shuffling through a rustling newspaper. The hulking man was fairly simple. He had wild brown hair, a thick beard, and black bags under his eyes. Nothing out of the ordinary.
As she stared into the parking lot, Anna asked, “How long do you think it'll take them to get here? They can't be far, right?”
Austin stared down the opposite side of the road, vigilant. He responded, “I don't know. I just hope it doesn't take them too long. I know they told us to wait here, but it doesn't feel great stopping. He could be coming for us...”
Disrupting the doleful mood, Patricia approached the booth and ecstatically said, “Welcome to Drifter's Diner. Would you like to hear today's specials? Or are you ready to order?”
Austin responded, “You know, I don't
think we'll be eating tonight. We're only waiting for the police, then we'll be out of your hair.”
Patricia furrowed her brow and repeated, “The police?”
“Yeah. We were told to wait here for a state trooper, I guess. We have to fill him in on a... a crime, I suppose. We won't be ordering anything tonight. Thank you, Patricia.”
Patricia puckered her lips and nodded, intrigued. She straggled away without saying another word, constantly glancing over her shoulder. As Austin and Anna turned their attention to the parking lot, the neighboring trucker took a gander at the pair. He neatly folded his newspaper, then he loudly coughed – an attention grabber.
The trucker said, “Hey, buddy, did you say you were waiting for the police?”
Austin and Anna glanced at the trucker, baffled by the man's prying. Like deer caught in the headlights, the pair could not answer or move. They were caught off guard. The couple shared the same thought: why does he want to know?
Austin nodded and said, “Yeah. That's what I said. We're waiting for the police.”
As he caught a glimpse of the fear in Anna's eyes, the trucker chuckled. He said, “I'm sorry. That was rude of me, wasn't it? Eavesdropping, questioning... Forgive my poor manners. I was taught better than that. My name is Trevor. I'm... I stop here very often, going back-and-forth and all, and I usually don't see people waiting for cops at diners. It just caught my attention.”
Anna bit her bottom lip, then she said, “Well, we had a little 'run-in' with a hitchhiker and I'm afraid it turned out a bit violent. Sorry if we seem a bit suspicious about everything. It's no offense to you, but you probably haven't seen what we've seen.”
In a dubious tone, Trevor whispered, “A hitchhiker?” He was bothered by the simple word, perturbed by the concept. He pointed at the couple's booth and asked, “You mind if I join you? You're probably scared now, I know, but maybe it'll help if you talk about it. To be honest, you really caught my attention with all this hitchhiker and police talk now. Do you mind?”