This month’s short story was inspired by my brief previous post about the importance of noticing the little details in life. 😊
A bump in the road shook the driver’s seat as the semi flew down I-35. Eyes peeled on the highway, Ed reached blindly for his gas station cup of Mountain Dew. Grasping the condensation-soaked paper, he lifted it from the cupholder and gave the drink a little swirl. The ice was long gone, melted a couple hours back from the heat of the summer sun beating down on the semi’s massive windshield. Ed tried to imagine the ice hadn’t melted and the drink wasn’t watered down - in fact, for just a moment, the fizzless soda wasn’t a soda to him at all, but a strong martini served poolside in the tropics.
The raggedy mutt he’d picked up on one of his countless cross-country drives yawned from the passenger’s seat. The dog stretched, his brown paws curling around the seat’s edge. He stood slowly, wobbling with the movement of the truck, and hobbled towards Ed.
“No,” Ed insisted, staring mindlessly at the road ahead. “No way - you’ll make my legs go numb.”
But the old dog didn’t move. He stood still as a statue, his legs locked to keep his balance and his beady eyes trained on the side of Ed’s bald head.
Ed glanced at the pup - a brief error, but a mistake still grave enough for him to glimpse the irresistibly sad eyes of an ex-stray.
“Damnit,” he sighed, begrudgingly patting his leg. The mutt, triumphant, hopped into Ed’s lap.
Ed grunted as the dog circled atop his thighs, trying to find a sufficient space to curl up between the steering wheel and Ed’s immense gut.
The sun had almost fully disappeared along the horizon. A minuscule sliver of orange still held on to the day, peeking just barely over the rolling hills to Ed’s right. He smiled at the golden glow - sunsets and sunrises were the best part of the job, and night driving was the best time to ride. Less traffic, less noise - and best of all, the world flew by much faster in the dark.
Despite his grin, Ed felt an overwhelming eeriness that particular evening. It was as if the cars passing by were more suspicious, the curves in the road more ominous, even the trees along the highway more unnerving than they’d ever seemed before.
Ed ignored the oddity the same way he ignored any other abnormality in his brain: he cranked up the radio volume until “Master of Puppets” rang so loud he couldn’t focus on anything but James Hetfield’s screaming voice.
A couple of hours flew by before Ed pulled up to a podunk gas station somewhere in Oklahoma. The sun was long gone by now, darkness flooding the world once again. Ed was grateful - the music on the radio had been good tonight, and he was damn lucky he’d come across an open gas station in the middle of nowhere - no matter how trashy it might be. The semi’s tank was almost empty as he rattled into the parking lot and pulled up to a pump.
The battered gas station lights flickered overhead as he hopped down from the truck bed. It was a desolate scene - there was only one other vehicle in the parking lot, a beat-up dodge ram parked by the convenience store. It took Ed a minute to make it out - the truck was tucked under the shadow of a scraggly tree that blocked the store’s porchlight.
Glancing through the glass windows, Ed saw a lanky cashier inside, chatting with a customer at the counter. The customer - whom Ed presumed to be the dodge owner - wore an oversized green hoodie and a baseball cap. He laughed with ease at something the cashier said as they made an exchange - likely money for lottery tickets or cigarettes. The man in the hoodie sauntered off towards the back of the store.
Ed put the company card in the chip reader and waited for the confirmation. He poked the PIN numbers, removed the card, and stuck the pump in the truck’s gas tank. Knowing from experience that he needed a fresh Mountain Dew or he wouldn’t make it through the night, Ed trudged across the lot. He tried to ignore the desperate expression of his mutt, who had smudged its face against the driver’s seat window in protest of its owner’s absence.
Ed used the store’s dirty bathroom and sauntered over to the fill-a-cup machine. Grabbing a large, he pretended to consider the other soda options before filling his cup to the brim with Mountain Dew.
He walked lazily around to the chip bag aisle, a little taken aback to find the guy in the green hoodie standing there. The man was probably in his 50s, with a mid-sized gut and a scraggly brown beard that had started greying at the ends. He appeared to be torn between the Bugles and the BBQ Lays. While these were starkly different choices, Ed respected them both. Ed exchanged a curt nod with the man as he grabbed a bag of sour cream and onion Lays and made his way over to the cashier.
“That all?” The worker asked in a thick Indian accent. His grey crewneck nearly swallowed his thin frame.
“I’ll take a pack of Camels,” Ed huffed. The skinny cashier turned and pulled the cigarettes from the shelf. He quietly rang them up with Ed’s soda and chips.
Ed paid and left the store. Finding that the semi’s tank was full now, Ed returned the handle to its pocket and opened the door to the truck bed. He pulled himself up to set down his purchases.
“Come on,” he said to the dog, scooping it under an arm as he lowered himself back to the ground. “Shittin’ time.”
The dog’s tail went crazy as Ed hauled him over to the shadowy grass next to the convenience store. He dropped the mutt on the ground and commanded him to go.
But the dog refused. Instead, he stared at Ed with an obstinate look on his face.
Then the mutt began to whimper.
Ed found this behavior very unusual. The dog almost always went right away. He was generally obedient, and he hadn’t gone to the bathroom for eight hours or so, so Ed couldn’t imagine he didn’t need to go.
Ed wrinkled his face in confusion.
“What?” He demanded. “Grass ain’t pretty enough for you?”
The dog whined louder. His whine morphed into a low growl.
He barked.
Ed realized that the dog’s beady eyes weren’t trained on him. They were staring past him. With mild curiosity, Ed turned.
Behind him was the four-door dodge.
At first, that’s all Ed saw.
But since his dog kept growling and green hoodie was nowhere in sight, Ed decided it couldn’t hurt to take a closer look.
He stepped up to the tinted back window, squinting to see through the darkened glass. Ed made out some light-colored clothes piled in the back seat, but he didn’t see much else.
The mutt barked again. Just as Ed was about to tell it to shut up, the pile of colors shifted.
A woman’s terrified eyes suddenly appeared in a tiny strip of light. The eyes widened at the sight of Ed. The woman let out muffled screams, shaking her head violently in an intense plea for help.
Ed staggered back.
He peered around the hood of the truck, trying to locate green hoodie, but he couldn’t see inside the store from where he stood.
“Shit,” Ed cursed. He whirled around to face his dog, who now barked repeatedly.
“Shut up!” He urged, though he knew the mutt wouldn’t quiet down.
Ed’s mind raced; the thoughts swirled around in his brain, creating a useless soup of ideas.
He knew he should run back to his truck and call the police. But they were in such a remote spot; he knew green hoodie could get far away before the police arrived. The only way to save this girl for sure would be to do it himself. Maybe he could break her out…
Who do you think you are? The voice in his head interrupted. You’re no vigilante.
But Ed knew he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t try.
Ugh, he thought, why me?
He felt an instant pang of guilt for his selfishness.
His dog was still barking. Ed knew he needed to do something about that. Fast.
He grabbed the mutt and jogged back to the semi. He tossed him in the front seat and shut the door. As Ed hurried back towards the darkened grass, the dog’s incessant cries grew softer and softer behind him.
Ed quickly formed a plan as he approached the shadows. His heart pounded. He struggled to tuck his large body behind the shrub closest to the dodge’s driver’s seat.
It felt as though he waited for hours, but it wasn’t more than a few minutes before green hoodie came bounding out of the convenience store. Ed peered through the sparse greenery as the man approached.
Abruptly, green hoodie paused. Ed held his breath, watching silently as the culprit glanced over his shoulder.
Green hoodie shrugged and kept moving. Ed grew more anxious with each step he took.
The man rounded the truck hood and approached the driver’s side.
He was now less than three feet from Ed. Ed wanted desperately to reach out and grab him, to choke him by his own hood, to stop him from getting any closer to the woman he’d locked in his truck.
Instead, Ed shuffled towards the side of the bush, waiting for the right moment to attack.
Click.
Almost there. Green hoodie had unlocked the truck’s front door.
He reached for the door handle.
Shocked at his own agility, Ed leapt out from behind the greenery and pounced on green hoodie’s back.
The man froze in surprise. Ed took the opportunity to wrestle him to the ground.
Green hoodie’s shock didn’t last long, though. He soon began to fight back, shocking Ed with his strength as he shoved the trucker off of him. Throwing their fists into the air like the amateurs they were, the two rolled around on the asphalt at the edge of the gas station parking lot.
If it weren’t for the gravity of the situation, Ed would’ve found the scene quite funny.
Green hoodie threw another aimless punch, this time just barely missing Ed’s head. Ed knew he couldn’t hit his opponent effectively like this; he had to pin him down. He threw his weight over green hoodie and got on top of him, but he had a tough time grabbing the man’s arms. They flailed about frantically until green hoodie finally landed a punch - the strong blow caught Ed right in the throat.
The sudden force threw Ed off. He coughed in pain as he tried to catch his breath.
Green hoodie tried to use the win to his advantage. He shoved Ed hard, fighting to push him off and regain control. But the man underestimated Ed’s weight - those hours on the road sipping Mountain Dews served him very well today - and Ed succeeded in landing a forceful punch to green hoodie’s face.
Alerted by the commotion, the cashier sprinted outside and stood paralyzed on the porch.
From underneath Ed, green hoodie tried to wriggle free. Encouraged by the throw he’d just landed, Ed ignored the man’s efforts and began pummeling him. Green hoodie’s nose started to bleed, but Ed didn’t stop. He kept punching until, finally, green hoodie lay still, passed out from the shock.
The cashier ran back inside. Ed hoped he was going to call the police.
Wiping his brow, Ed pushed himself up to a standing position. He stared down at the battered man without even the slightest twinge of guilt.
Ed tried to ignore the soreness in his throat as he opened the front door of the dodge and peered inside.
The bound young woman stared at him from the back seat.
The terror in her eyes began to subside when she recognized Ed.
“Don’t worry,” Ed said. “You’re safe now.”
Story four is for Brittany, my only sister… Lover of all things horror and true crime. I hope she loves this story! ❤️
Awesome my love
Phew!