The Bus Stop

The bus screeched to a halt as it pulled up to its final stop in Milton Creek. I stood and walked a few rows up to retrieve my backpack which had moved during the stop, and throwing it over my shoulder, I walked off the bus eager to find who I was looking for. I stopped on the sidewalk and looked around. What I was looking at was a whole lot of nothing; except for the main road, the town consists of a simple series of intertwining dirt paths with wooden street signs and barricades of old, dying fruit trees on either side. On the far end of town was the Ocella River, which flows from Southwest Pennsylvania in a windy, southwest pattern that eventually leads to the Gulf of Mexico. Not very many people live here, as the steel mills have packed up and moved to other parts of the country, as I had done not so long ago. To Hell with that though, it’s not important. What’s important is that I am here, and I have to find this bastard before the next bus comes through.

I pick up my backpack and head down Blossom Street towards the tiny business district of town. On the way, I’ve only seen a few people, and none of them seemed familiar. I found what I was looking for a block down from the grocery store—I stopped at a bench to light up a Marlboro when I was suddenly pushed over, and at once, underneath the boot of a very large man.

“Wh... What the fuck is wrong with you?” I blurted from under the boot. I could barely breathe and when I could, the breaths crept into my lungs like a drunken 15-year-old trying to sneak home. “What about the deal?”

“What about the deal? You have a fucking gun,” said the fat bastard that was standing over me. “And when I’m finished with you, you’ll wish you hadn’t broken our agreement.” My chest was starting to hurt badly; I could feel my ribcage starting to buckle, so I got desperate.

“GET OFF OF ME!” I managed to scream at him lightly. He heard me, and after removing the gun and holster from my belt, he listened. I pushed my way up from the dirt and punched him in the chest. Only then did I realize his true size. I meant to punch him in the mouth, but he was a lot taller than I anticipated, and as for the fat bastard comment, I take that back. He was solid. And now, he was pissed.

“Do you really think that hurt?” he asked with a cocky grin forming on his face.

“Well sir, I was hoping...” I said with a sudden respect. The punch didn’t even cause his big toe to curl. I was in trouble. “I was hoping just to startle you. Then I could run away. You’re stronger than me, I could never hurt you.” He was narcissistic, and I’ve found the best way to deal with those types is to feed their ego.

“You’re damn straight I’m stronger. That’s why you brought a gun. It takes no muscle, takes no skill.” He looked me dead in the eye as he said this. At some point, he had reached out and grabbed my collar. The truth was, he was a very intelligent man. After the last murder, he ran off to this tiny, fenced-in town. There is no media here. There is no technology. The grocery store doesn’t even have a calculator, let alone a cash register. I grew up here, and it was perfect refuge for anyone trying to escape from a life in prison. The location was perfect, right along the Ocella. Occasionally a small boat would pass, delivering textiles to towns in Ohio, but there was no tourism here. It was a trip to nowhere and I knew that and my team knew that, but I had to make the call. Here I am.

At the crime scene, he left a letter:

Dearest Kevin,

If you’re reading this, you have found my latest victim. It’s sad she had to die the way she did, but you couldn’t stop pressuring me. You couldn’t let us be together. You chased and chased, and it took a lot out of me. In public, I am afraid of being exposed. I am afraid, and all I want is for this to end. I want a fresh start, a passport and enough money to get to Mexico. I know at this point, you find this a stupid thing for me to ask, seeing as how I’ve butchered 16 Barbie’s and a couple of Ken’s that got in the way. But Kevin, I wouldn’t say no just yet.

You see Kevin, your daughter was near that crime scene shortly after I left. She has been there every Wednesday for the past 3 months. That’s right, you have no need to worry. I’ve been keeping an eye on her for you, as you have been too busy to do so. You shouldn’t treat your daughter like that Kevin, she’s quite precious. I’ve been taking care of her for the last few hours. She misses you though. I’m not sure, do you want to see her again?

Now it has come full circle. If you want your daughter to live, you’ll follow my requests. I am now headed to your old home town, Mill Creek, and that’s where we will meet. You can find me in the market, as nobody knows my face here. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt anyone just yet, but remember, that’s up to you.

I want you to travel by bus, alone and unarmed. I want the requested items placed in a plain black backpack. I want a boat waiting for me on the river directly after the transaction. You hand me the backpack, I’ll give you a slip of paper with directions that will lead you to your daughter. After you find her, don’t even think of following me. I have another surprise that will not be revealed until I am well across the border. You have 24 hours, then I’ll be gone. I hope you can make it Kevin.

Your friend,

Raf

“You’re right, you are stronger. That’s why I accepted the deal. I just want Hannah back.” I was unarmed now, and he could call off the deal at any minute. If that happens, Hannah and I would both die for sure. I had to figure something out. “You can keep the gun too. A consolation prize.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t take off. You’re lucky I didn’t leave your daughter to suffer and starve to death. You were just in time. I was getting on the next bus if you didn’t show up.”

“I figured that. It’s the only way in and out of here, really. And you know we can’t tell anyone about you yet.”

“Don’t want to cause a panic, huh?”

“Exactly. Can I please have my daughter?”

“Let me see the backpack.” I handed it to him. He unzipped it about halfway and reached in. After fumbling around for a few seconds, he looked back up, “Is all the cash here?”

“Yes, I assure you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper and some sort of remote. He pressed a button, producing a small click, and placing the paper in my hand, he whispered:

“You have 5 minutes to find her. She will suffocate not long after that.” With that, he turned and walked towards the river. “Which boat is it?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Blue 16-footer,” I said. Then, I unfolded the paper and scanned it frantically. Five minutes? That wasn’t part of the deal. Left onto Oak. Right onto Lilac. About 30 feet down the road, go left and run into the woods. “She’s in Chapman’s cave.”

Chapman’s was a place I used to go as a kid. It was situated just 20 yards into the woods, but not many people knew about it. To find it, you had to think like a child. They seem to have a knack for trap doors and the like, and this cave was all but nonexistent. The opening had always been completely screened by small, close-growing trees and shrubs of varying shapes and sizes, and unless you ventured between them you wouldn’t find it. Somehow he did.

It had been 2 minutes and I was making the turn from Lilac into the woods. I leapt over a log and tripped, resulting in a painful roll down the hill. Two minutes to go. I get up and run again in a small circle at first as I try to regain my sense of direction. I do, and darting, I make my way to the creek. From here, I can see the small maze of trees that guard the cave. One more minute.

I jump the creek and land on a moss-covered rock. I twist my ankle but retain balance. I now run with a limp, and with 30 seconds to go, I start to plunge through the trees. I can hear muffled screaming in the cave. Fifteen seconds. Finally, I find the entrance and frantically throw myself through. It is dark, but I follow the sound. At the back of the cave, a tape recorder lies playing on the ground. The source of the screams. Right on cue, an explosion takes place at the front, sending bits of rock and wood throughout. Large chunks have fallen between me and the outside world. He knew I wouldn’t take the time to think of this set up. He made me think my daughter’s life was on the line. Someone will find me, I think. They know where I had to go. But where’s Hannah? What’s going to happen to her? And now that I know he’s a compulsive liar as well as a serial killer, I wonder what the surprise will be.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]