by Jon Athan
Austin and Anna stared at each other, communicating without words. Their eyes spoke volumes about the situation. Fear lingered in their pupils, but the dread dwindled with the security of the environment. The trucker did not seem malicious, either. The couple nodded in agreement – sure.
As Anna moved to her boyfriend's side, Austin said, “Come on over.”
***
Trevor planted his coffee mug on the table, then he sat across the distraught couple. He loudly yawned and stretched as he shuffled in the comfortable seat. The sweet allure of sleep was baiting him, inviting him to slumber. Despite his heavy eyelids, the exhausted trucker stayed awake. Curiosity kept him conscious.
Trevor licked his lips, then he said, “So, tell me about the hitchhiker. You can tell me about what you experienced, sure, but tell me about the man. Describe him to me, if it's not asking too much. He was a man, right?”
Austin nodded and said, “Yeah, a man. He was... Hell, I don't know what to say. He–He looked normal, you know? He had black hair and a beard. A little slim, I guess. He said his name was Dante. I don't know what else to say. He wasn't anything... special, I guess.”
“Okay, okay. And, what did this fella do to warrant a call to the police?”
Chiming-in, Anna said, “We saw him kill a man and I'm pretty damn sure he killed two more people in a station wagon. He's... He's one of those psycho hitchhikers you used to see on the news or the ones you heard about in urban legends. A fucking maniac. I think that warrants a call to the police. If you ask me, I think it warrants a goddamn death sentence. And, frankly, I don't give a crap if you or the police don't believe me. We know what we saw.”
Wide-eyed, Trevor gazed at the fiery young woman. Her sharp tongue stabbed his lethargic demeanor – a wake-up call. Austin stared at his girlfriend with narrowed eyes, then he glanced around the eatery. With the fierce speech, the patrons and staff inconspicuously glanced towards the commotion from the corner of their eyes. A nosy audience surrounded them. Austin simply waved at the spectators – go back to your regularly scheduled program, people.
Trevor sniffled, then he said, “I see. In that case, I agree with you, ma'am. You are correct. In a sense, though, you're lucky. You're very lucky. Hell, if those people are really dead, then they're lucky, too. They've already escaped. Count your blessings, ma'am, at least you didn't run into the other one...”
Anna furrowed her brow and repeated, “The other one?”
Baffled, Austin asked, “Who the hell is 'the other one?' Do you know Dante?”
Trevor inhaled deeply, then he loudly sighed. He explained, “The other one... The other one is a thing of superstition around these parts. Like you said, ma'am, a thing of 'urban legend.' For years, there's been a very violent problem with hitchhiker's on this interstate. That's why you never pick up a hitchhiker. Never. It doesn't matter if he's injured or sick, or if he looks innocent or if she looks pretty, you never pick up a hitchhiker...”
Austin swallowed the lump in his throat, then he asked, “Why?”
“Well, around these parts, they'll butcher you. I'm sorry if it sounds crass, but I'm just being blunt. This boy, Dante, I'm sure I've seen him before on the road, trying to wave down some gullible drivers and trying to convince them to pick him up. His brother... Well, his brother is a different story. His brother is the reason they call this place 'Butcher Road.' He's the reason behind this road's reputation. I'm sure of it.”
Anna leaned closer and asked, “Are you telling us Dante has a brother? You're saying there's more than one killer on this interstate?” She leaned back in her seat, awed by the story. She whispered, “Butcher Road... Unbelievable...”
Trevor knocked on the table – three thuds to get their attention. He explained, “Now, like I said, this is something of an urban legend. I heard about these two guys a few years ago. One time, I heard about them walking down the interstate with decapitated heads clenched in their hands, smiling at the passing drivers. Real heads. I heard about violent attacks and kidnappings, all blamed on the same brothers. With all of this talk of grave-robbing and human trafficking on the news, I'm inclined to believe this legend is real. At least, somewhat real. So, I never pick up a hitchhiker. I would never take a risk like that. You'd have to be a dumb–”
Trevor stopped and bit his bottom lip. He was not in the business of insulting kind patrons. He caught himself before his language slipped from welcoming to vulgar. Austin and Anna glanced at each other with uncertain eyes – the lingering fear never departed. The trucker spun a yarn like if he were telling a horror story around a campfire.
“What do you know about Dante's brother?” Austin asked.
Trevor nodded and said, “Well, for one, I believe his name is Clyde. Dante and Clyde, the interstate butchers. I heard Clyde is a ruthless man. He's much worse than Dante. He's... He's not the handsome-type, either. He's a big boy with some sort of skin disease, I think. I call him a 'boy' because I heard he acts like a child. You'll know when you see him. Yeah, you'll know... At least, that's what I've heard.” As Patricia walked by, Trevor waved at the waitress and said, “Hey, Patricia, can you bring some coffee for these two? The blacker, the better. They're going to need it.”
Patricia smiled and nodded, imperturbable. The woman was genuinely happy to serve her patrons. Although she could overhear the bits and pieces of the disturbing conversation, she was more than willing to offer a helping hand.
Patricia strolled towards the bar and shouted, “It'll be on the house.”
Disregarding the cordial waitress, Austin asked, “What do you mean by that, Trevor? 'They're going to need it.' What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Trevor responded, “Just 'cause you got away, that doesn't mean you 'got away.' Think about it. If all of this urban legend crap is true, then you saw one of them. You saw one of the butcher brothers. You should be speeding home, not wasting time here.”
“We're not going to run off in the dark. We're waiting here for the police,” Anna said.
“Unfortunately, the police can't help you if those boys get to you first. You should be going towards them. You should be heading into the next town, not waiting here to get caught up in a bloody mess. You understand?”
The trucker's analysis wasn't wrong. The couple had a set of viable options on the table: wait, hide, or run. Each option had advantages and disadvantages. The psychopathic hitchhikers, on the other hand, would not waste time making their decision – kill, kill, kill. Austin and Anna sat in silence, contemplating their strategy.
Trevor stood up and said, “Listen, you go ahead and do whatever you like. I'm going to enjoy my pie and my coffee. I hate to say this, but... I didn't see or hear anything. I'm blind and deaf for the rest of the night. Good luck.”
***
Trevor grunted and groaned as he slipped into his booth. He sipped his coffee, loudly slurping the scorching liquid. Without a glance at the overwrought couple, he lifted the rustling newspaper and covered his view. He offered his knowledge on the area, he offered some advice. He was done with the situation.
Patricia walked towards the despondent duo, her white sneakers thudding on the floor with each step. She placed two white ceramic mugs on the table, then she bowed. The pair were blatantly distressed by their horrific day and she did not want to aggravate the problem. She didn't need a 'thank you' to fuel her helpful personality anyway.
Austin scooted towards the window and peered towards the parking lot. He asked, “What do you think we should do? You want to drive to the next stop or wait?”
Anna responded, “I know it can be dangerous, but I think we should wait. I think it's the most logical thing to do. The cops told us to wait here, so we should wait here. These people won't let anything happen to us, right? They won't just stand there and let some madman attack us. It's four, five people against one or two.”
“It all sounds good on paper, but I'm not too sure about that. I don't think these truckers want anything to do with us or
Dante. It doesn't sound like they want anything to do with the 'other one.' We can only wait and see.”
With brooding eyes, Austin stared at the road. A vehicle drove down the narrow road every five minutes. There wasn't a single new customer since their arrival. The remote diner seemed exclusive to truckers – an afterthought to the world, or not a thought at all. The photographer could only think about Trevor's ominous warning and his fearful retreat.
Austin said, “Maybe we should just go. We can head straight to Vegas. No more stops. We'll report everything there. At least we'll be surrounded by thousands of people out there. We'll be in a city that never sleeps. A thousand against one or two, those are much better odds.”
With a pinch of resentment, Anna responded, “That... That doesn't sound like a good idea, Austin. Not with Dante out there. If he really has a brother, they're probably looking for us now. He wouldn't have to walk to catch up.”
“If he doesn't have to walk, then he's probably already coming this way. There are only two ways on this road, Anna, and we're sitting in the middle. We're sitting here waiting for a cop that's probably on a damn doughnut break. Let's get the hell out of here.”
Anna uttered a mere croak of a word – a letter. She stared out the window, frightened. Austin turned his attention to the parking lot. His jaw dangled from the utter shock. A figure shambled down the road, limping towards the roadside diner. Although the person could not be seen through the darkness, their imaginations were fueled by sheer terror.
Anna stuttered, “Is–Is it... Is it him? A–Austin...”
Austin clenched his fists and glared at the lumbering figure. His breathing intensified with each slow step. He thought about running into the kitchen and grabbing a chef's knife to defend himself. He even considered using the scorching coffee as a weapon. Before he could decide, the person stepped into the diner's light. The everyday man walked past the eatery. He did not resemble Dante and he was not large like his supposed brother. The couple shared a sigh of relief.
As Austin took a swig of his coffee, Anna tugged on his arm and said, “Fine. Let's get the hell out of here.”
Chapter Eight
Running from Murder
The sedan whizzed down the desolate road, led to safety by the dazzling headlights. An impenetrable darkness swallowed the desert area, like if a bank of black fog were billowing over the region. The ominous shadows were accompanied by a frigid cold. The weather plummeted with the falling sun. The nippy conditions even seeped into the car.
A driver sped down the oncoming lane every other minute. Aside from the brief company, silence reigned supreme. As the oncoming drivers became more sparse, spread out for miles, the loneliness became evident. The forsaken sensation was eerie. The world was whisked away, unaware of the horror lurking on the interstate.
Breaking the silence, Anna asked, “Do you really think this is a good idea?” She glanced out her window, saddened. She said, “I'm just so confused. I don't know what to do.”
Austin nodded, keeping his slimy hands on the steering wheel. He explained, “We waited at that diner for a while and no one showed up. We've been driving for a few minutes and we still haven't seen a single cop coming our way. It's almost like they forgot about us. I mean, how far apart are these state troopers? You'd figure they'd be speeding down to a homicide, right? It's just... It's just not worth waiting for that man to catch up. If he's as psycho as the trucker says, we might as well put up a fight... Well, I guess we're actually running, but at least it's something.”
“I'm sorry for being so... so dramatic back there. I don't know about all of this. I'm scared. I'm scared and I'm tired. That's all.”
“I know, I know. To be honest with you, I'm scared, too.”
Anna huffed and smirked. She couldn't help herself. She saw a golden opportunity and she had to seize it. She wanted to inject some humor into the dreadful situation, she wanted to unleash her exuberance to brighten the mood. The despairing circumstances were vexing and humor was a common remedy for sorrow.
In a blatantly sarcastic tone, Anna said, “No, really?”
Austin nervously chuckled – he appreciated the snark. He said, “Yeah, I'm a little scared. I'll get through it, though, I always do.”
“We'll get through it together. How long do you think it'll be until we see a town or a cop? Or Vegas? That would be like finding heaven in hell, right? Imagine that. Leaving a sinful man for Sin City, very strange...”
“We should start seeing more businesses coming up soon. Maybe a small town. You know, somewhere to stop and rest. There's not going to be a single gas station and a diner in the middle of nowhere. No, we'll see something soon. I'm positive.”
Anna nodded in agreement. She turned back in her seat and stared out the rear window. She could not see anything through the gloomy darkness. There were no following vehicles in sight, no headlights or squealing wheels. The long and seemingly endless road was abandoned. The couple were more likely to see the headlights of a phantom car than an actual driver.
Anna asked, “Are you tired? Can you keep driving?”
Austin sighed, then he said, “I had a sip of coffee. It wasn't much, but I think I'll be fine. How about you?”
“Yeah. I'm exhausted. I'm tired of... of all of this. I'm just so damn sick and tired of today. I wish it would just end.”
“Maybe you should try getting some rest. I should have got the cable out for you when we were at the diner. I know you like sleeping with music. I'm sorry about that.”
Anna smiled and nodded, temporarily relaxed by her boyfriend's thoughtful apology. She whispered, “It's okay, sweetie. It's fine.”
Anna turned back into her seat, wrestling with her seat belt. She stared at the beams of light emitting from their sedan. The light was minuscule compared to the sprawling desert, but the illumination was undoubtedly heartening – a flare in an endless pit of darkness. The young college student closed her eyes and pondered the horrifying situation. A gruesome death echoed through her pessimistic mind. Her appalling thoughts of terror led her to a single escape route – sleep.
***
Anna loudly gasped, awakened by a blaring horn. The vehicle violently jounced, shaking and swerving uncontrollably. Austin wrestled with the steering wheel as he glanced over his shoulder. Following suit, Anna stared out the rear window with wide eyes. A large cherry-red pickup truck rammed the sedan from behind.
Over the obnoxious horn, Anna yelled, “What the hell is he doing?! He's going to kill us!”
Anna sobbed into her hands as she hopelessly tried to tame her anxiety. Her fretful whimpers reflected the frenzied attack. Austin could hear the plaintive cries, but he was only concerned with keeping control of the vehicle and surviving. He swerved as he tried to avoid dropping into a ditch like the station wagon. He refused to experience the same fate as the slaughtered couple.
The truck slowed down for a few seconds, then it quickly accelerated. The reckless driver cycled between two speeds, purposely ramming into the sedan over and over. The driver's pattern of attack was easily recognizable. The several collisions were not accidental and he was not trying to hide his intentions. Murder was the goal. The reasoning behind the attack, however, was unknown.
As he tightly gripped the steering wheel, Austin glanced at Anna and sternly asked, “Is it him?! Anna, is it him? Is it Dante?”
Anna wiped the tears from her blushed cheeks as she reluctantly glanced back at the pursuing truck. She narrowed her teary eyes, trying to clear her blurred vision. She did not recognize the driver. Their chaser appeared as a giant silhouette in the truck. Despite the obtrusive darkness, she could see the figure was too large to be Dante. Anna shook her head and shuddered.
With a quivering lip, she stuttered, “N–No... I–I don't think it's him. He's... He's too big, Austin. That's not Dante...” With wide eyes, she glanced at her boyfriend and asked, “Can it... Can it be 'the other one?' Is it his brother?”
Flustered by the pursuit
, Austin yelled, “I don't know, damn it! I don't know!”
The couple swayed in their seats, tossed every which way by another violent collision. The wheels squealed with the frantic swerve. The crazed driver in the truck blared his horn, pressing down on his steering wheel without a single pause. The ruckus conjured by the chase created a cacophonous symphony of hectic noise. The desolate desert was dominated by chaos. As the truck slowed down, Austin seized the opportunity to roll his window down.
Anna sank into her seat and tightly shut her eyes. She planted her palms over her ears, but the makeshift plugs could not block the madness. The racket was too loud. Although she did not physically abandon her boyfriend, she mentally attempted to depart the vehicle – whisked away with thoughts of nothingness.
Austin protruded his head from the window and shouted, “Go around! Go around!” He wanted to believe the confrontation was nothing more than a misunderstanding – an angry driver trying to get ahead. With a vein bulging down the center of his brow, Austin yelled, “Please, go around! We didn't do anything! Go around!”
The thunderous roar of the accelerating truck echoed through the desert like a lion's roar in Africa. The deafening sound sent chills down Austin's spine. The crepitating engine was unusually daunting. The everyday noise rattled his core. Before he could maneuver and prepare himself, the truck rammed the back of the sedan at a breakneck speed.
Austin stomped on the brakes as the car rolled off the road. The car bounced on the pitted ground until it finally stopped. Particles of dirt filled the air around the vehicle, majestically swaying back to the ground. Frightened, Austin glanced back at the road. The pursuing truck hurtled down the road without a brake or swerve.
Breathing heavily, Austin turned towards Anna and asked, “Are you okay, sweetie? Are you hurt? Huh? Are you hurt?”