began to give way. The dirt was soft and soon he had a hole big enough to squeeze through.
A tree had fallen in a storm and as it toppled it left a huge hole underneath. Just below that, was the hole Junior had found. Half way through he was able to feel the warm sunshine, this revitalized him and he kicked his way free. Pulling up out of the hole, he crawled over to a grassy spot and lay spread eagle, face to the sky. He had forgotten how wonderfully noisy the living world was. Everything seemed like a new experience, his senses reeled from the sudden burst of activity.
The view to the left was of a large rock overhang some thirty feet off the ground.
Underneath were several trees and Marty’s truck. Liberation was at hand, he had the keys in his pocket and he knew exactly where he was. Relief washed over him, taking away any ills from the last few days. He settled back in the grass, closed his eyes and fell asleep. It was mid morning of the fifth day.
Later that evening, Ellen was outside on the phone with Trudy. Both of them apologizing for their argument before, vowing to have a long talk later. After the tearful reunion she hung up and walked across the yard looking intently at the vast open countryside. “Where are you?” She couldn’t give up the feeling that they were nearby. An eerie precognition that they were out there, somewhere, watching her. A cold chill walked up her spine spurning her to trot back into the house. A moment later she jumped in her car and headed to Trudy’s. Before she left she peered back into the hills again. A strange mood fell over her and she lapsed into a dream state and had a vision.
In her mind Junior was walking up the dirt road near their house carrying a backpack. She ran to him but as she got closer she could see he was covered in blood, his eyes black and cold. His hands were filthy, the fingernails broken and bleeding. He stopped just in front of her; his breath reeked like a dead animal.
“I’ve come home to take care of you Momma.” he spat the words at her as he withdrew a long butcher knife from his backpack.
She woke up screaming, curled up in the passenger seat, suddenly aware that it had all been a dream. Quickly getting back in the other seat she started the car and left in a big hurry, her nerves shattered after the horrid day-mare.
The dust settled across the front yard after Ellen’s speedy departure, the sounds of the country came back to life. From his hiding place, crouched behind a bush thirty yards from the barn, Junior could see the entire spread. Now that Ellen was gone he could take care of things. He and Marty had devised a story, a plan to explain everything. While he slept, they worked out all the details, figured out just what to do to make things right. He couldn’t tell them the truth because no one would understand. They would blame him for his Father’s death and never forgive him for surviving like he did. The truth would forever stay buried in Junior’s mind. The farm was quiet now so he seized the opportunity to get busy. It was into the house for a few clothes, then to the barn for his dirt bike. An old kerosene lantern and the hidden strongbox full of cash, Marty’s mad money. He looked at his watch; it was almost seven, time to get moving. There was much to do if he wanted to get the story arranged. If everything went according to plan he should have covered his tracks, gotten rid of the truck, and planted a false trail to back up his story. Cautiously he pushed the bike into the road listening intently for any traffic. He could not be seen yet, not yet. The bike fired up easily and he was off. Tearing down the road, back toward the air-shaft and the truck. “This is gonna be so much fun, ain’t it Daddy?” The bike churned up grass as he sped off road. Weaving his way back to the site of his brain bending drama. Having all taken place less than a mile from home.
Once he got there he worked his way back inside to his
A tree had fallen in a storm and as it toppled it left a huge hole underneath. Just below that, was the hole Junior had found. Half way through he was able to feel the warm sunshine, this revitalized him and he kicked his way free. Pulling up out of the hole, he crawled over to a grassy spot and lay spread eagle, face to the sky. He had forgotten how wonderfully noisy the living world was. Everything seemed like a new experience, his senses reeled from the sudden burst of activity.
The view to the left was of a large rock overhang some thirty feet off the ground.
Underneath were several trees and Marty’s truck. Liberation was at hand, he had the keys in his pocket and he knew exactly where he was. Relief washed over him, taking away any ills from the last few days. He settled back in the grass, closed his eyes and fell asleep. It was mid morning of the fifth day.
Later that evening, Ellen was outside on the phone with Trudy. Both of them apologizing for their argument before, vowing to have a long talk later. After the tearful reunion she hung up and walked across the yard looking intently at the vast open countryside. “Where are you?” She couldn’t give up the feeling that they were nearby. An eerie precognition that they were out there, somewhere, watching her. A cold chill walked up her spine spurning her to trot back into the house. A moment later she jumped in her car and headed to Trudy’s. Before she left she peered back into the hills again. A strange mood fell over her and she lapsed into a dream state and had a vision.
In her mind Junior was walking up the dirt road near their house carrying a backpack. She ran to him but as she got closer she could see he was covered in blood, his eyes black and cold. His hands were filthy, the fingernails broken and bleeding. He stopped just in front of her; his breath reeked like a dead animal.
“I’ve come home to take care of you Momma.” he spat the words at her as he withdrew a long butcher knife from his backpack.
She woke up screaming, curled up in the passenger seat, suddenly aware that it had all been a dream. Quickly getting back in the other seat she started the car and left in a big hurry, her nerves shattered after the horrid day-mare.
The dust settled across the front yard after Ellen’s speedy departure, the sounds of the country came back to life. From his hiding place, crouched behind a bush thirty yards from the barn, Junior could see the entire spread. Now that Ellen was gone he could take care of things. He and Marty had devised a story, a plan to explain everything. While he slept, they worked out all the details, figured out just what to do to make things right. He couldn’t tell them the truth because no one would understand. They would blame him for his Father’s death and never forgive him for surviving like he did. The truth would forever stay buried in Junior’s mind. The farm was quiet now so he seized the opportunity to get busy. It was into the house for a few clothes, then to the barn for his dirt bike. An old kerosene lantern and the hidden strongbox full of cash, Marty’s mad money. He looked at his watch; it was almost seven, time to get moving. There was much to do if he wanted to get the story arranged. If everything went according to plan he should have covered his tracks, gotten rid of the truck, and planted a false trail to back up his story. Cautiously he pushed the bike into the road listening intently for any traffic. He could not be seen yet, not yet. The bike fired up easily and he was off. Tearing down the road, back toward the air-shaft and the truck. “This is gonna be so much fun, ain’t it Daddy?” The bike churned up grass as he sped off road. Weaving his way back to the site of his brain bending drama. Having all taken place less than a mile from home.
Once he got there he worked his way back inside to his
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