You really couldn't believe it could you? When you woke up, your nose bent and throbbing in your temples. You puckered your lips and tried to open your mouth to let out a pained moan but the dried, crusted blood caused them to peel apart like pink-eyed lids and you screamed instead. The bag had busted open and fallen down in the backseat, large bill rolls spilled out onto the floor like fruit from a cornucopia.
Where were you? What happened?
As you slowly came to your senses your eyes strained out through the cracked windshield and across the buckled hood of the Grand Marquis. An accident? You can't remember getting into this car.
The still road lay dark, with only pale shafts of moon spilling in through the canopy providing light to see by. Beyond the area containing the scene of your broken vehicle lay - nothing. To what this road you were on led was as much a mystery to you as the reason you were on it in the first place. A slight breeze sent the leaves shivering, as though the crisp winter air that revealed your breath pierced into their waxy skin as well.
Upon further inspection of the car you'd clearly been in a head on collision, but the offending vehicle was nowhere to be found. No skid marks lay on the ground corresponding to the ones that indicated your car's right, then left slide. No blood or fur stuck to your car from an unsuspecting, four-legged victim. What had hit you that could cause such damage and leave not a trace behind?
That's when you saw him.
On the side of the road, no farther than three feet from the passenger side of the car, laying face down. A little boy, almost seven. Blood trailed from the passenger door which had only barely latched closed. Not yours. You had no children - that you could remember...
The car wouldn't start would it? Why did you even try? Any idiot could see it was a total, but like an ape you tried it anyways. Without much thought other than getting the fuck out of this situation, you started to gather what you assumed to be your things. The bag of cash, the wool coat next to it, the handgun... You don't remember ever shooting a gun, let alone carrying one.
The trunk groaned as you lifted it up and saw the
bags laying in there. Two, large, black, thick lawn garbage bags. But they weren't filled with leaves, were they? They were filled with parts. Body parts. A finger, a femur, a jaw bone with flesh still hanging off of it. Chunked pieces of human chum.
You really couldn't believe it, could you? When you threw up in the trunk after you snuffed the stench of rotting flesh up in through your nostrils, sending a convulsion through your brain and down in the pit of your stomach. The acids from your bowels burned your throat. Heaving and pacing and pushing cool air through your fiberous nose hairs, you racked your brain to percolate a memory from the pit gigantic black dot in your mind. You created storm clouds in front of your face, they gathered, rose and stormed into your vision and then he moaned.
The kid moaned - and before you knew what you were doing, you'd slammed the lid on your thoughts and the trunk and knelt beside him.
"It's okay... where are you hurt?" You consoled.
You didn't know where or why this sense of concern puckered in your chest when you heard him, but it was there and you reacted. When he looked up at you, wild-eyed and confused. You saw nothing you knew, but the same fear that had creeped slowly over your shoulders ever since you'd awoke.
Where's my Mom?" He asked. And then, finally, you knew something. It wasn't much, nothing really, just a glimmer of comprehension - but you knew.
You lied and told him you didn't know, but that we needed to find help. And before you left, you made sure to push your gateway back into consiousness off into the brush alongside the road. Sweating and straining, the throb in your brain tore at your thoughts. Tt was all you could do not to break down right there, collapse to the ground, and cease before you'd even began. Finally the car edged and leaned over the road's edge. It trailed off into the forest, crashing and clawing through brush until it came to rest.
You don't know why you came back do you? Why, with such obvious misgivings you went from which you came than from which you went. Who could blame you though? You couldn't remember anything. Right, left, up down, you couldn't even see outside a 6 foot radius on that damn, dark road. Maybe you thought the road from Orkin might lead you back to an answer.
Well you know now, don't you?