Always Check the Back Seat

A Story by Intelligidiot

Another lunatic escapes the asylum...

    Kevin stepped out of the dying light of the day into the Last Chance convenience store. The redneck clerk looked out from behind his hunting magazine and gave him a nod before diving back in. An old mono radio played country music from it's perch behind the counter. Kevin browsed the few isles of snacks, hunting and fishing supplies, and sundries for a few minutes, then selected a few soft drinks, candy bars, and potato chips. He strode up to the clerk and dumped an arm load of stuff on the counter. The clerk stood up from his stool but continued reading the magazine.
   "Hey, man, y'all ever go huntin'?" asked the clerk.
   "Yeah, when I was a kid." answered Kevin.
   "Man, I was just reading about these guys that use music to lure in deer. That's wild."
   "Well, they say music soothes the beast, I guess."
   The clerk put down the magazine and began to enter prices into the ancient register atop the counter hidden behind a rack of novelty trucker hats.
   "Yeah, I guess. So y'all don't hunt no more, eh? Y'all must be goin' fishin' then."
   "Nope, just passing through. Got family up in Jensen County."
   "Oh, yeah? My cousin lives up there. Y'all know the Petersons?"
   "Can't say I do, but I haven't been around here for a few years. Hope the place hasn't changed since then, it's beautiful."
   "Nah, you know that area. Lost in time." The clerk chuckled.
   "Yeah, can't wait to get back. It's so peaceful."
   The song on the radio ended and the DJ's deep voice began talking about a news bulletin. The clerk spun around to turn it up.
   "Hey, man, y'all hear about this? Some maniac escaped from the nut house in Burkeston."
   "Uh oh, guess we're all gonna get murdered!" Kevin joked.
   "Might be, man. They say he was last seen headed this way. Killed some family and took their car and the mom."
   "Really? Headed this way? S**t, I've got about ninety more miles to drive alone at night."
   "Well, I guess you're screwed, man." Laughed the clerk.
   "Sounds like the setup to a tired horror story." Kevin quipped back.
   "Yeah, think I've seen that movie." They both laughed. "That'll be $14.82, man."
   Kevin dug out his wallet and laid a $20 bill on the counter as the clerk put his items in a paper bag. He handed the change back to Kevin.
   "Well, y'all have a great time up there in Jensen, and watch out for crazy killers with tattoos."
   "Oh, the maniac has a tattoo?"
   "Yeah, s'possed to have a tat on his arm of a skull and crossbones. So if y'all see a guy like that, run the other way."
   "I will, right after I piss myself! Speaking of which, you got a restroom I can use? I really don't think I'm gonna want stop and use a bush with a maniac in the area."
   "Yeah, right around back, no key or anything."
   "Thanks."
   Kevin grabbed the bag and exited the store. Suddenly, the descending dusk seemed a whole lot darker than it did just a few minutes ago. He didn't want to seem like he was really scared, but the concept of driving ninety more miles alone in the dark honestly did bother him. Why the hell did that clerk have to tell him there was a maniac out there? He would have been perfectly fine not knowing.
   He looked around the back and found the restroom. It was dimly lit and smelled like stale urine. Quickly he used the toilet and washed his hands. As he looked at himself in the dingy mirror, he suddenly had a disturbing thought. The clerk had been wearing a long sleeved flannel shirt. "What if he was the killer?" his mind asked him. Kevin convinced himself he was just being a scardey cat, but finished quickly anyway.
   Just as he rounded the corner to the front of the store, all the lights abruptly turned off. Kevin spun around, his heart gripped in fear, and looked at the front door of the store. There he saw the clerk flipping over the 'Closed' sign. The clerk looked up at him and waved.
   "God, I'm such a baby." Kevin thought as he walked back over to his car. Opening the door, Kevin paused. "Why the hell didn't I lock the door? I always lock the door. Then I don't when there's a deranged psychopath on the loose?"
   Kevin started down the road, and immediately noticed how much darker it was without any street lights. "Perfect." He thought. "Killed in the middle of nowhere by an escaped psycho. I really am in a bad horror story." He turned on the radio to calm his nerves. "What am I worried about. What are the chances that I'll meet up with this guy? Come on, man, get a hold of yourself. You're an adult, for God's sake, this is ridiculous."
   He drove for awhile, letting the music and commercials from local radio stations lull his unwarranted fear. Twilight gave it's way to the full darkness of night. He looked up at the starry night sky and appreciated it's rich beauty. The trees that lines the sides of the road passed by like pickets in a fence, illuminated only by two cones of light piercing the dark from the front of the car. Kevin found himself singing cheerfully along with the radio, stopping only to take the occasional drink from a soda of bite from a candy bar. Then, in a split second between music and the DJ talking, he thought he heard something like a thump behind him.
   Kevin gulped and looked slowly over his shoulder. The only light in the car was from the dash lights, so he strained to see anything in the dark for a moment. There was nothing in the back seat. He turned his body around to look down at the floor, and felt the car drive off the road. Frantically he twisted back around and corrected the vehicle's course, narrowly missing a deep ditch.
   His heart was pounding from the near miss, and his breathing had quickened. "Idiot. A little road vibration makes you think you heard something from behind you and you forget everything you know about safe driving." Just as he finished mentally chastising himself the radio station chose to remind him of his fear via a news report. He turned it up a little.
   "...suffering from dissociative identity disorder who has already killed four members of a family. The condition of Melissa Rooney, the mother, is still unknown. Police are asking anyone with information to call 911."
   Kevin felt sweat forming on his brow, and knew it wasn't just from the near miss a moment ago. "Why the hell is this freaking me out so bad?" He questioned his own sanity, getting this worked up over something he knew wasn't a real danger. Then he thought he heard a thump from behind him again. He switched off the radio and strained his ears. Nothing but the sound of the car on the road. He sighed and prepared to berate his mind for letting fear run away with it again when he heard a muffled moan from the back seat. This time there was no denying the sound.
   He slammed on the brakes and leaped from the car, engine still running. The headlights illuminated the road in front of the car, but there was still no light in the back. Kevin balled his right hand into a fist as his left trembled, reaching slowly for the door handle. He threw the door open, prepared to punch the psycho dead in the face and run away. But there was no psycho there.
   Instead, he saw a woman, bound and gagged lying on the floor. She had clearly been beaten and stared up at him in abject horror.
   "Oh my God!" Breathed Kevin. "Hold on, I'll untie you." The woman only whimpered through her gag in response. He pulled her up from the floorboards and pulled off her gag.
   "Please, don't hurt me!" She cried. "Just let me go."
   "Don't worry, I won't hurt you. You're the one they're looking for, aren't you?" He asked. She only continued whimpering and asking him to let her go as he struggled with the knots.
   "Poor thing," he thought. "She's traumatized." Finally getting her untied she recoiled in terror with her back against the opposite car door and held her arms in from of her defensively.
   "Please, I don't want to die, just let me go home!" She begged.
   "Lady, I'm not going to hurt you. Just relax."
   "Please, I just want to go home." She sobbed.
   "Just relax." Kevin tried to speak in the most calming voice he could. "You're Melissa, right? Here, wrap yourself in this." As he spoke, Kevin removed his coat. When he held it out offering it to the terrified woman, his eyes widened in horror as he saw the skull and crossbones tattoo on his own forearm.

The End.