The Man from Riverside - Chapter 1
The radio crackled and lurched in and out of reception, playing a very broken version of a Nickelback song. Dennis couldn't actually work out which one it was, since, to him, they often all sound the same, so he turned off the radio in frustration. He looked out the driver's window, just making out tall trees and hills in the dim moonlight. He hadn't had decent radio reception since he passed the last town, much to his dismay it was the only thing keeping him from the insanity that comes with being lost. He was supposed to be on his way to California for a business meeting with some prospective clients.
Dennis sold office supplies. Not the greatest occupation, but it got him by, even though he despised it, but he had a wife and three kids so 'Whatever pays the bills' was his catchphrase. Business had been slow lately with the recession; people were opting for the cheaper discount office suppliers, keeping his quality office supplies in the warehouse. He hated that he had to drive further and further away from home to try and sell his business, but driving and sleeping on the back seat was still cheaper for him than flying and having to stay in a hotel.
The car lurched, the old suspension trying to compensate for the impact of a pothole and snapping Dennis to attention. He grimaced slightly as he tried to inspect the road as best he could under the light of his dirty headlights. With the moonlight's help he managed discern that the road was in significant disrepair, obviously receiving little traffic. He was beginning to regret his decision to leave the highway.
"Shit!"
Dennis muttered a little too loudly, as he narrowly avoided a massive pothole. Damn CEDA, he thought. If it wasn't for their checkpoint holding up masses of traffic, he would be almost there by now. He didn't understand what the big deal about this flu was. What was it, some sort of bird flu or something? He'd heard scraps about it on the radio, mostly garble, but he didn't really care. His other radio choices were classical music or some local twat raving on about the end of the world; neither got more than a minute of listening time. He slowed down his car, doing his best to avoid the increasing number of potholes, the suspension grinding and making discomforting noises.
He continued on, the tall trees and the passing clouds blocking out the moonlight made the road very dark. Dennis remained focused and concentrated on navigating the road, not letting his mind wander to other things. He took a quick glimpse at his fuel gauge, reading half a tank, and looked down at the map lying on the passenger seat. The road was only supposed to be sixty miles until it hit a town called Riverside, it felt longer. He'd never heard of Riverside, but it seemed like a sizable town. He'd stop there, get some sleep and maybe even sell some office supplies while he was there before continuing around the mountain and hopefully back onto the highway, well past the CEDA checkpoints.
Dennis realized his mind was trailing and snapped back to attention when the car jumped over a smaller pothole. Rounding a particularly sharp bend, he noticed a large blue 4x4 on the side of the road, half embedded in a tree. Dennis slowed down to check it out, but it had obviously been there a while and there didn't seem to be anyone inside. There did seem to be a lot of blood, but he continued without stopping. Serves them right for speeding, he thought. The number of times he'd been run off the road by a speeding idiot, it was nice to see them suffer, but the sight of blood took his feeling of victory away.
Dennis grimaced at the increasingly disturbing noise that the suspension was making every time he hit even the smallest bump. His little red sedan had seen better days, but it had kept him on the road for the last few years. There was a nice Lexus he was hoping to buy, if sales were good this year, and then he could pass this sedan to his son in a few years. He smirked when he thought about his oldest son, Pete, getting the keys for his 18th birthday. His trail of thought was brutally interrupted by a thudding on the boot of his car. At first, he thought one of his boxes of supplies had just toppled from the bumpy road, but another thump gave Dennis reason to check his rear mirror. Glancing at his mirror without taking his eyes off the road, he noticed something moving behind him outside his car.
"What the hell?"
Dennis took the chance and looked over his shoulder out the back window and saw a man chasing him. He seemed to be wearing a red flannel shirt and jeans, like a hitchhiker or even a lumberjack. He sped up the car a bit; Dennis thought he must be a marathon runner or something because he somehow managed to keep up with him. Dennis wound down the window and put his head out,
"Fuck off you lunatic!"
The man responded with several more thuds on the boot of the car, which only served to piss Dennis off more. After another minute of constant thudding, Dennis snapped.
"Fuck this,"
He slammed on the breaks and the car halted immediately, with no screech of the tires, and one larger impact came from the rear of the car and the man behind him disappeared from sight. Dennis sat for a moment, considering getting out and checking on him, but desperately wishing he wouldn't. Cursing to himself, he flung the door open and got out of the car. He stood for a moment, stretching his legs, the cool autumn breeze blowing through his thick black hair; he'd forgotten how long he had been in that car today. Suddenly, the cold got to him and he pulled his black suit jacket tighter around him and his thoughts went back to the man behind his car. He slowly trudged around to the back of the car and looked down at the man who was now half under his car, he appeared unconscious.
"Hey, you alright there you fucking moron?" There was no response.
"You better not be fucking dead,"
Dennis gave the body a quick nudge with his foot, not wanting to touch it; the man seemed to have hygiene issues. His eyes snapped open, startling Dennis who took a half step back.
"Fuck, are you alright?"
The man's eyes looked very wrong, like they were empty. The man let out an inhuman scream and began to thrash, trying to get out from under the car. Dennis felt very uneasy, there was something seriously wrong with him and Dennis knew it. He left the man trying to scramble out from under the car and ran back to the open driver's door and leaned though to the passenger's side. He snapped open the glove box and shifted some scrap paper and CDs around to find a black Beretta sitting at the bottom. He grabbed it and pushed himself out of the car, aiming it towards the man who was dragging himself up from behind the car.
"You fucking stay right there!"
Completely ignoring him, the man roared loudly and bolted straight for Dennis. Feeling paralysed, Dennis pulled the trigger, only to hear the click of the safety switch denying him to fire. Cursing loudly, he looked down and fiddled with the safety switch, desperately turning and raising the gun back at the man, but it was too late. The man leapt at Dennis and tackled to him to the ground, knocking him back and sending the gun flying. The man continued to barrel over from the speed of his tackle and was left face down on the road mere feet away from the stunned Dennis lying on his back. He laid there, his head throbbing from hitting the asphalt staring at the stars as they danced around the sky. He twisted his head and looked towards the other man, who seemed to have taken a serious blow from the fall. Dennis could see him slowly getting to his feet, his left arm hanging loosely from his body, possibly dislocated. Dennis rolled over onto his stomach and got onto his knees; his head throbbing from the movement, he clutched it in pain with one hand while he leant on his open car door for support. Dragging himself to his feet, he groaned as the pain eased and Dennis looked at his hand, partially covered with blood. He looked up just in time to see the man finally get to his feet and turn sharply at Dennis, who saw just how serious his fall was. The man's face was brutally smashed in, his nose bent and twisted beyond recognition and his face covered with bleeding grazes filled with dirt and gravel. His empty eyes glared at Dennis for a moment, his face making him look completely inhuman. With a scream, he ran at Dennis again, but this time Dennis was prepared. Despite still being groggy for his injuries, Dennis leant harder against the car door, causing it to close and dragging him with it, dodging the man as he staggered past, trying to stop his momentum so he could turn around. Dennis took this opportunity to make for the gun, which was lying conveniently on the front hood of the car. As he reached for it, he stumbled, knocking the weapon off the hood and onto the ground in front of the car. Dennis staggered and fell next to it, reaching over and grabbing it before rolling onto his back to aim at the crazed man. He fired off a single shot which caught the man in his other good arm, sending him staggering backwards. He stood there, staring at his limp arms, then back at Dennis, still aiming the smoking weapon.
"Just die you son-of-a-bitch"
This time, the bullet hit with perfect accuracy as his neck snapped backwards from the force smashing into his skull. He staggered backwards a few steps before his legs gave out and he flopped to the floor, a large pool of blood beginning to flow in channels through the cracks in the asphalt. Dennis fell back and stared at the stars again, feeling the rush of adrenalin wear off, leaving him feeling cold and tired, not to mention the throbbing head pain. After a minute, he dragged himself to his feet and looked at his dried head blood on his hand. He felt the wound again and flinched in pain on contact, he could still feel the warmth of blood seeping from it, though it didn't seem to be so much. Dennis dragged himself to his feet and leant against the side of the car, looking over at the lifeless body and feeling a surge of panic. He'd just killed someone! It was self-defence, he reasoned with himself, just turn myself in and explain what happened.
"Ah, fuck!"
As if they'll believe me, he thought. He took his cell phone out of his pocket and stared at it for a while, trying to decide wether to call the police or not. The cell phone made the decision for him; no reception. He put the phone back in his pocket in frustration, and got into the driver's seat, throwing the gun onto the passenger seat. He placed his head against the steering wheel, and then proceeded to knock his head against the horn, the sound blaring out loudly.
"Screw it," Dennis looked at the body on the road in his side mirror, "I'm sorry, but you caused this. I'm not gonna fucking go to prison because of you"
He slammed the car into gear, and the car took off with a lurch, the suspension groaning as the car gained speed rapidly. The light from tail lights slowly faded, leaving the man's body in the darkness. His cold, expressionless eyes staring into nothing as he lay there, in a slowly enlarging pool of blood. A raven swooped in from a nearby tree, landing nearby and cautiously hopped towards the body. It began pecking cautiously at his head, satisfied he was dead, it began to tear at his flesh, enjoying a late night meal. The distant sound of heavy boots startled the creature; it cried angrily and flew into the nearest tree. A figure approached the body, an axe making a heavy grinding noise as it was dragged along behind. Stopping just short of the pool of blood and taking one last puff of a cigarette, they threw the still lit butt onto the body and took hold of the axe with both hands. Raising the axe and without a moment's hesitation, bringing it down on the man's neck, slicing clean through and sending the head rolling into the ditch. The figure rested the axe on the ground again, and turned to continue along the road in the direction Dennis went, the axe grinding along the road as they went.
Not long later, the raven returned, continuing its meal on the headless corpse; the head watching it silently from the ditch.
Deep within the forest, the sound of a blaring horn echoed, piercing every nook and cranny with its angry reverb. Something began to stir, hidden by the deep shadows of the towering trees. Something human in origin, but with an overwhelming aura of evil and anger. Something that did not want to be disturbed.