Short Story: The Hitchhiker

Wind tore through my hair as I rocketed down the highway towards the town of Tilena, home to volcano Ikilano. Not one of the worlds main volcanos but one mighty unextinct bulk of molten rock.

Accompanied by Jason Wright and Rob Lowe, we hit the road in my new Artinu Denhari. Like a blue streak of lightning we hit at just over ninety miles per hour. Gareth John, Carl Lewis, Aaron Giorgino, and Richard Walker occupied the Sertui Lygune speeding just a little behind us. A red and white tick in the rear view mirror signaled they weren’t far behind. But bouncing alongside us keeping pace was Daniel Hepworth, Ashley Cross, Kieron Beardmore, and Wayne Podmore in a black and illuminous yellow bombshell. The freaky Buryl Swaert hurtled alongside us exceeding ninety miles per hour! And beside them was Scott Woodcock on a Yamaha.

We sped by Viaglo Train Station which powered through Eduit and stopped by Suede.

I’m about six foot, and weigh about ten stone. I have jet black hair and my left ear pierced. My sapphire blue eyes are one of my more normal features. I usually wear leather but today I was wearing a colourful sweatshirt and blue jeans caked in oil.

Jason Wright however was dressed in leather and his blonde hair made his beady brown eyes even darker. His dry lips made his voice come out raspy and hoarse.

Rob Lowe had a red Mohican and the tattoo of a skull embarked upon his cheek. He was dressed in dark denim with big steel toe capped dockers. He sat fidgeting with his knuckle dusters.

Gareth John had wavy brown hair. He had hazel eyes with a long face. His red and green sneakers were caked in mud. A huge golden sleeper dangled from his massive ears. Gaz was wearing black tracksuit bottoms and an illuminous green t-shirt.

Carl Lewis has chestnut brown hair and small, tiny eyes. He had a transparent sense of humour. He wore blue jeans and a white shirt.

Aaron Giorgino had straight cut brown hair and pale brown eyes. His long legs made him seem enormous. He wore white jeans overlapped by a white named brand shirt – Nike I should reckon.

Richard Walker sat with a weight resting on his thighs. Attached to his blond ponytail was a thin needle. He wore a black shirt with black jeans. His blue eyes as bright as sapphires shone brightly.

Daniel Hepworth was silent, with his grey eyes wide in excitement. His head hung out the window, his ginger hair thrashing around in the breeze. His black sweater flipped in the wind, his Adidas poppers hung open at the sides like flares. He had built up a sense of humour off Rob.

Ashley Cross’ blonde basin sat on his head like a cap. Although it suited his character, he didn’t like it and is always talking about having it cut. His crystal clear eyes set into the sockets. His Nike trainers squeaked due to the newness of them. He was wearing an Adidas sweat shirt and Nike trousers.

Keiron Beardmore was in the Swaert wearing a Kappa hooded top with some Adidas poppers. He wore Nike trainers. His brown eyes looking dull and boring, but really he was quite an excitement to be with. His encyclopaedic memory didn’t put him down, and he always had a logical explanation for things occurring.

Wayne Podmore had greeny eyes and brownish hair. He was a fun person with a balanced sense of humour. He was wearing a dark shirt and faded jeans. His green trainers were posh and attractive.

Scott Woodcock was dressed in black worn leather. A pair of mirrored sun shades set over his eyes. He was wearing metal studded dockers. A drifter. His Yamaha was yellow and red. His short blondy-browny hair stood firm, held by gel.

As the race made on for Tilena, a figure stepped into the road dragging a hump of something tangled in some wire mesh. Our Denhari sped straight past, so did the Lygune but Scott on his Yamaha and the Swaert pulled into the waiting lane. I peered across at Gaz in his green t-shirt, a sly grin spread across my face.

I wound the window down and signaled for Gaz to do the same. He did.

“Two down, and you’re next” I sniggered.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because this is not a one way street!”

Gaz looked up to see the on coming dump truck speeding towards them. Gaz tried to ram us out the way, but we kept the same pace. Looking up, he saw the truck within spitting range. He jumped across and hung onto our windscreen wipers. I turned the wipers on, laughing like a hyena. Gaz was thrown off and back at the Lygune.

The Lygune made head on impact with the dumper. Gareth was splattered in the wreck. Dead. The dumper sped off, and there was no opportunity to see the driver.

“Why didn’t you let him pull in?!” exclaimed Rob.

“What a beautiful sight! Gaz splattered, with metal girders straight through him! Yummy!” smiled Jason.

I let out a nervous laugh.

“He’d look better in a coffin with an axe through his head and a chain saw been set to his face though I must admit” said Rob.

***

Aaron, Carl, Richard, Daniel, Ash, Kieron, Wayne, Scott and some other guy burst in, in deep conversation.

“Yeah just a brick…” said Aaron.

“Um, a house brick resting on the pedal…” chipped in Carl.

“The same one that hit the Lygune! Weird.” Added Richard.

“Ay, look! There’s Ben Scott, and Rob and Jason!” exclaimed Scott.

“What’d you do to Gareth?” asked Aaron.

“Yeah, where is the weirdo?” asked Wayne.

They put themselves around the table.

“So? Where is he?” asked Keiron.

“He didn’t make it” said Jason.

“What do you mean “he didn’t make it””? demanded Richard.

“He was in the… well, on the car when it was hit” said Jason.

“I don’t get you?” said Keiron.

“He was on the bonnet of the car when it hit the dumper” said Jason.

“What in the world was he doing on the bonnet?!” butted in Ash.

“Who was driving the dumper?” asked Rob.

“No one” replied Rich.

“Awesome” nodded Rob.

“Sick. Guess what was in there?” asked Daniel.

“What?” asked Rob.

“Who more like!” butted in Carl.

“Who?!” urged Rob. “Come on, don’t keep me in suspense!”

“A dead body!” exclaimed Wayne.

“Yummy! Who was it?” asked Rob.

“Some fat guy in red with a white beard” said Danny sarcastically.

“Oh” said Rob. “Nice.”

“Truthfully. It was a mutilated body of a murder maniac” said Aaron.

“Cool!” smiled Rob.

Aaron bit a chunk of hamburger and almost immediately spat it back out. “This thing isn’t even cooked properly!” he exclaimed. “I’m getting a refund!”

“Want a fry?” Rob offered me.

“Ta” I said grabbing a few. “Got enough salt on them?” I winced through choking.

“Only the whole pot!” he smirked producing an empty container with SALT inscribed on it.

I threw the two remaining chips at him. “Freak!”

***

We’d hit the road at eight o’clock in the morning as we make our way for our main key destination. Tilena. We’d make small stops along the way and the next one was Eduit then Suede.

We hopped into our cosy beds at about nine and stuck on Alien Resurrection Three. Decent. When that went off we put on The Doomsday Dilemma. We’d all dropped off by the time it went off. I awoke at midnight to several knocks at the door. I wandered to the door and opened it.

A man in white overalls and a red waistcoat stood there. “Room service?” he asked.

I literally blew his head off. “No, now go away!”

“You look like you need a glass of water” he croaked producing a cup.

“Thank you” I said taking the glass. I raised it and tipped it over his head. Then I crashed it down on his head. “I’ll have some earplugs so I can get some sleep around this place!”

He scowled and picked up the shards of glass. “That’ll be twenty pence” he said angrily.

“No it won’t” I said.

His face turned beetroot red. “Argh!” he screamed tearing out lumps of his hair. “Argh, argh, arghhhh!”

“You’ve been in the sun too long. You need some sun burn lotion.”

***

We stuck our trunks in the boot. We revved up and hit the road. Wind whistling through our hair as we sped at 117mph. We built up speed as we passed Eduit travelling alongside the rails.

“Woohoo!” yelled Rob.

“Yeahah!” yelled Jason.

“Look who’s there!” I screamed over the roar of the engine.

“Who?” screamed Rob.

“Dean Beech and Steven Bayliss” I screamed.

“And who’s in the back?” asked Jason.

“I can’t see!” I replied.

“Looks empty in the back” wailed Rob.

“No, it’s Aaron, Carl and Rich” I wailed back.

I looked in the rear  view mirror and saw the dumper gaining on the Swaert.

“Hey Rob, Jason… Daniel’s Swaert’s got company. Take a look.”

Rob and Jason looked back to the Swaert to see the dumper pounding on behind. It was gradually catching on the Swaert. The collision was a killer. The flat faced dumper smashed straight through the Swaert! Danny was thrown through the windscreen. Ash headbutted the dashboard in front and was crushed in the wreck. Kieron and Wayne who were in the back couldn’t be seen. But you could guess something horrible had happened.

I gulped. “Ouch!” I felt my stomach churn. I put my foot down to one hundred and thirty. The dumper had thrown the car clean off the road and into a ditch, and so the dumper was making steady progress towards Dean’s Astrive.

“We’ve got to get them out the way!” I wailed.

“How!?” screamed Rob.

“Smash ‘em out the way!” suggested Jason.

I signalled for Dean to wind down the window. “Pull behind us!” I literally screamed.

“No way Jose!” he replied.

“Behind you!” I shouted.

Dean turned and looked back. “I’ll out pace a dumper, you der!” he exclaimed.

“Don’t even try it Dean, you thick creep or else you’ll die!”

“Who’s going to kill me? You?”

“No the loony tune who killed Gaz and Dan, Ash, Keiron and Wayne!”

“And where is he?”

“In the red dumper behind you!”

“Oh…”

He turned and bent his head over his wheel, gripping so tightly his knuckles turned ice white. He sat staring intently into the wing mirror.

“C’mon, pull you freak” urged Steven.

“How fast’s that guy doing?” asked Carl.

“About ten more than us” replied Aaron.

“And how fast are we doing?” asked Rich.

“One thirty seven” replied Dean.

Dean turned sharply. Too sharply. So sharply he went into a wheel spin and landed dead in it’s path. The ignition key got jammed so the engine wouldn’t start. Steven got up and started to climb out the window. He fell face first onto the gravel and grazed his face. He climbed to his feet and ran away from the wreck. He was quite far from the wreck when the dumper ignited about five metres away from the car. Steven was far, but not far enough and was taken full down in the explosion.

I pulled over about twenty yards from the accident. Or was it an accident?

Some how I found it.

I ran over to the wreck. J and Rob were shortly behind me. The smell of burning flesh hung in the air. Steven looked more like a black lump of charcoal than a human. I didn’t dare look in the Astrine. However I looked in the dumper. It was filled with dynamite, TNT, gas bombs, pipe bombs, cluster bombs, nail bombs, banana bombs, sheep bombs and spike bombs. Whoa.

“I’m getting out of here before this thing blows!” I said.

“What? This things gonna blow!?” exclaimed Jason.

“Yeah!” I said.

“When?” asked Rob.

I looked at the timer. “In about twenty three seconds” I said.

“How far will it blow?” asked Jason.

“About twenty/thirty yards” I replied.

“Better get out of here then. Twenty seconds to go” I whispered.

We turned and headed for the Artinu Denhari. We reached it and hopped in. I revved the engine. It cut out. I tried again. It cut out. I looked in the glove compartment. A bomb.

Five…

I clambered out and told Rob and Jason to follow.

Four…

We ran away from the Denhari and the dumper.

Three…

We charged up the road.

Two…

We jumped.

One…

We covered our heads.

Zero.

It blew.

Scott came powering through the flames, his Yamaha glowing. The petrol tank sparked, and his bike blew. He was catapulted into the flames. He was obviously dead. You could take that for granted.

Ben Newton and the hitchhiker came walking along. “What the hell happened here?” he exclaimed.

“I farted” sneered Rob.

“Truthfully” he stated.

“Bombed” replied Jason flatly.

“Oh” he replied blankly.

“Yeah, oh” said Jason.

Gunfire echoed through the still air. Ben Newton went limp and crumpled on the floor.

“Who shot him?!” I literally screamed.

Jason turned to me. “Sorry. We didn’t want it to end this way.”

“W… w… we?” I asked.

“Yes, we” came a chorus of voices. A group of four came from the shadows. At the front was Rob. Behind him were three people dressed in black with ski masks. They held stomach pumps.

“Let’s go pump a brain” they sneered.

They began a menacing dance whilst advancing toward me. Like a nightmare come to life, they grabbed me. “No point struggling, Ben” they said.

Then several gunshots echoed through the air. Three bodies tumbled to the floor.

Rob and Jason turned to see Keiron and Wayne hurrying towards us. “I stopped them!” squeaked Keiron, “I shot them!”

“And now we are stopping you!” replied Rob pulling an automatic 9mm clip pulse rifle with a built in 900 volt shock stunner and bayonet. Keiron’s ragged body fell to the floor. Blood was splattered all over his chest.

“Why?!” questioned Wayne.

“Because we want to” replied Rob. “Money” he said rubbing his forefinger and thumb together.

“You make me sick!”

“I’ll make you more than sick…” yelled Jason pulling out a box of flamedrops.

“Go to hell” sneered Wayne.

“He will see you there” I said aiming Keiron’s colt 44 automatic to the back of his head.

“So Ben triumphs over Rob and Jason” I said.

“Think again, dream on” said Jason spinning and stabbing me in the ribs. I dropped to my knees, blood oozing from my chest. Jason gently placed me on the ground. “Go to sleep, forever” he laughed.

I put the gun to his head.

“I’m going to hell, and you’re coming with me… punk!” I said.

I placed the gun barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger. In a large explosion, Jason’s head blew off and smoke fizzled through his nose. I pulled one of the stomach pumps and ran over to Rob.

I kicked the gun from his hand and it clattered to the floor. In a huge riot I broke Rob’s nose, and he knocked me and made me sprain my wrist. I grabbed him and pulled him close. I whispered into his ear as blood poured out of my chest wound. “Time to die freak”.

I was handed a metal bar by Wayne and we knocked the guy out cold. Together we dragged him to the rails about thirty yards off through the trees and lay him between the ancient sleepers. The train would speed around Eduit and power around the Tereef Bend and be derailed on impact of Rob.

Wayne would try to get me to the hospital before I died. It was a matter of time.

I had already lost a lot of blood and was gradually dying. We have to power over the national speed limit by about 50mph. But that’s how it would have to be. Wayne slid into the Denhari and pressed the accelerator full down.

We hurled along the supposedly deserted road at 200mph. Then a mist settled over the road. A car suddenly came flying out of the blue and the screech of brakes couldn’t save us. The impact was tremendous. I fell into a fit of unconsciousness.

When my eyes opened to the world again, I couldn’t feel the lower part of my body. Neck down. I turned and stared at the bed next to me. In his haste Wayne hadn’t put his seatbelt on. In the crash he was thrown straight through the windscreen. He was suffering serious, major head wounds. I rolled over to face Keiron.

“How the… how did you… you’re…” I fainted.

Keiron was nursing my body when I awoke. My chest was pounding and Wayne was propped up in a visitors chair next to my bed. Wayne wore a bandage around his head and held a bottle of liquid. He was dressed in a black sweater and blue denim jeans. My vision was blurred so I couldn’t make out the letters on it. My head felt as if someone were pounding on it with a piece of lead. I took a glance at Keiron. He was wearing a red shirt and white jeans. He too had letters on it that I couldn’t make out.

The television was on, the music blarting on. Then suddenly a special news flash came on.

“Train transporting the Mayor was derailed at Tereef Bend. To the drivers amazement there was a body lying in the sleepers, though after the crash there was no object that could have caused the crash. Blood was smeared over the front of the express however. Police believe that the train heading at 300mph hit a deer. But if anything was hit at that speed, it wouldn’t get back up. We’ll have more about that at the 11 o’clock news. Thank you for now and good night.”

“Sugar, we’ve got a killer after us! God damn you Wayne!” I wailed.

“Stuff you!” he replied.

“He could be anywhere!” said Keiron.

There was a knock at the door.

Rap, rap, rap.

I froze. Wayne bowed his head.

Rap, rap, rap.

Keiron got to his feet and grabbed the foot tray next to the bed. He approached the door. He eased the handle and opened the door…

There stood a man dressed in dark denim and dockers. I recognised the red Mohican and the flamed skull upon his cheek. He stood there fidgeting with his knuckle dusters holding some letters.

It was Rob Lowe!

He looked up.

“Hi Keiron.”

“He grabbed the tray!” I screamed. I watched the tray soar out the window.

He grabbed Keiron and threw him against the wall. Reaching inside his denim, he retrieved a hammer. He struck Keiron around the side of his head and Keiron stumbled sideways down the forty flights of stairs. Keiron flew into a backwards flip out of the window to sail down eighteen floors then smash into the floor. If he hadn’t died falling down the stairs, he would have died on impact of the ground.

Paul Dale ran up the stairs holding an axe. “Let’s play” he smirked.

I turned to see Wayne’s fingertips on the sill. I ran and looked out of the window. He’d wrapped his lanky legs around the ivy dangling from the wall. He brought his hands to the ivy and began slithering towards the ground.

“Downstairs” called Rob to Dale.

He advanced towards me. Then Cane Brookes came bombing up the stairs with Kyle and Choppy. Ziggy sprinted up as well. David Lawton followed. Cane clutched a screwdriver. “C’mon!” he laughed.

Kyle and Choppy looked out the window to Wayne. “He’s down here Zig!”

Ziggy ran across and lowered a rope to Podmore. Poddy grabbed the rope and was winched up. Cane grabbed Rob in a bouncers grip.

“Get off me” said Rob squirming. Some patrol cars pulled up. Kyle and Choppy hauled Podmore into the room. Cane held Rob firm and the police cuffed him.

Cane Brookes, Kyle Brookes, Steven Lamb (Choppy), David Lawton, Ziggy Shepherd Johnson, Terry Scott, Daniel Tyler, Peter Webb, Martyn Everard, Daniel Swift, Carl Appleby, Dean Beckett, Peter, Carl, Josh, Big Swifty, Moody, Tinny, Carl Hepple, Scott Tyler, Phil Webb and me were all packed into my living room watching the World Cup Finals. Brazil vs. Spain. Brazil were 2-1 up. It was Spain’s penalty.

Levy Jaffari Shepherd Johnson came walking in with a can of Pepsi. Zach Shepherd Johnson brought a can of 7UP in.

Denilson stood up and took the kick. It sailed in.

Then Paul Dale walked in with Podmore. Podmore had a gun to his head. “Ginger freak, get up” he ordered Dean Beckett. Dean got up and sparked Dale. Dale dropped the gun and Carl Hepple struck Dale over. Paul got lifted to his feet and fired out of a cannon to Las Vegas.

Spain were on the break. Taffarel was injured. The final whistle signaled a 2-2 draw. Penalties.

Spain won 4-3 on penos.

They went to collect their awards. The room cleared. In the middle was a pile of rubbish. I flicked the TV off. Dale was dead. I fetched the hoover and hoovered up. All’s well that ends well.

FIVE YEARS LATER.

I was standing on top of the world. Good business. A good wife. A perfect home.

I was walking down Artedie Road when I was approached by some figures. They were familiar but I couldn’t place a name.

“Recognise me, Ben?” they said.

“No not really” I replied.

“Rob Lowe?” he asked.

I turned to see the street was deserted. He pulled out a gun.

“Move it. Into the car.”

It was a Colt 44 Revolver. I was in deep trouble. These guys had something to do with Rob Lowe. I didn’t resist. I climbed slowly into the back. The car smelt strongly of cannabis, weed and pot. My stomach heaved. The guy who sat next to me was smoking a joint. It reeked. My stomach was turning roly polys. I winced.

The car swung into a drive. The door’s stayed shut. I felt the car spiralling down into a pit. At the bottom was a tube. We got out. I was led into a huge room. Rob sat in a towering armchair. He was surrounded by piles of cash. He looked around.

“Know where you are?” he asked.

“No” I replied.

“Mill Hill basement” he said.

“Oh.”

A screen was up on the wall. It showed Rob sitting in a globe. Snazzy. Underneath was a sign saying:

On ToP oF tHe WoRlD

“Now for your fate Ben.”

“What?”

“Diced.”

“Ugh.”

“Nice really.”

I was led to a machine and prepared to be diced.

A sharp grill criss-crossed plunged into me.

I was in fifty pieces.

My eye started at Rob but there was no eyebrow to narrow.

I was dead.