Destiny, man.
***
I stood on that throbbing bus floor, humming to myself, and walked out into the aisle and down towards the front. The gears ground and we took a turn and I spread my feet to balance. I stopped to look at the last contestant. He was still sound asleep, even snoring quietly as if his nostrils were pinched shut. He had no idea about the game going on around him, or that he was another loser. All contestants were losers in our game. I glanced at the mirror and saw the driver's face in shadows, half-asleep, still taking the curve – or was this a different curve? – and it didn't matter because he was occupied. My watch said I was on time, but it was getting close.
I'd chosen the icepick. I leaned down and drove it into his exposed ear, feeling the tip pierce the cartilage and thin bones and reach deep into his brain. His eyes snapped open and stared into the infinite highway.
This is the end, beautiful friend.
He twitched and a thin dribble of blood poured out onto my hand.
I left the icepick in place and turned my attention forward. Now we were coasting down a long slope and I knew the time was near.
There was no longer any real need for silence, so I pulled my pistol from beneath my jacket.
When I was right beside him, the driver's eyes finally locked onto mine in the mirror, but I was already too close and the Beretta's barrel was kissing his skull.
Humming…
This is the end.
He might have had enough time to mutter a puzzled "What the…", but I was already squeezing the trigger, pumping three slugs into and out of his hat-covered head.
Driver, where you takin' us?
I bulled him aside and grabbed the wheel to keep the bus from careening off the endless night road. I stuffed one foot between his dead-lumber legs and found the brake, slowing the bus in tight little jerks. But I couldn't clutch from where I stood and when the bus slowed sufficiently to require a gear shift, the engine died and I wrestled the coasting beast until I tamed it to a thudding halt while keeping the wheel cranked to the right.
Outside the bug-smeared window, I saw that I had nosed perfectly to the rear of the van parked on the shoulder.
My timer went off.
In the shadows, Frankie stood next to the van.
"Jesus," he said, looking me up and down as I stepped from the silent bus.
My watch gleamed in the moonlight. The timer still beeped. "I beat your time by twenty-eight seconds."
Frankie looked through the window at the slumped driver. "Yeah, but I think I had more people on my bus."
"We agreed this was gonna be based on time, not numbers," I reminded him.
"Yeah." He smiled. "You win. This round, anyway."
I took a little bow.
He said, "I bet I can flag down a car faster than you can."
It was all destiny, man.
The Lizard King spoke and we listened. And we did as we were told. Kill, kill, kill.
End
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
End Note
Dear Reader
About The Author
Praise for W. D. Gagliani's Novels
Bonus Material
Savage Nights Page 37