400 Days - Thompson's Story

"Abandoner"

At this hour of the night, the last thing Thompson Turner thought he'd be doing was speeding down the highway in a pickup truck, friend Nate by his side in the driver's seat, screaming his head off, trying to escape from people trying to kill him.

Hell, that was the last thing Thompson thought he'd ever have to do.

THOMPSON

41 Days In

"God, this is so fucked!" Nate shouted.

Thompson glared at him. "Why the hell did you shoot that guy man, what the hell was that?!"

"I didn't mean to do it, it just happened, okay?!" Nate slammed hard on the gas pedal. "Where the fuck were you with a warning?!"

"Me?! You're putting that on me now?!" Thompson shouted. "I didn't see the guy either, I was too worried those dudes were gonna pull guns on us!"

"SHIT!" Nate glanced at the rear-view mirror. "How'd they catch up to us?!"

"Who gives a shit! Just-"

Thompson was interrupted as a bullet whizzed through the rear window, shattering the glass entirely.

The truck swayed a bit. Thompson leaned over. "H-Hurry up, Nate!"

"C-Cmon man! Shoot!" Nate reached into the glovebox and held out a small revolver to Thompson.

The bulky teen glanced at it before grabbing it with a sigh. He leaned around the seat to face out the back and took aim.

One shot.

Two shots.

Three shots.

Each bullet fired was a waste. The truck swerved a bit to evade the bullets, or Thompson just had terrible aim.

Finally, his fourth shot was the kicker; it smashed into the right headlight of the pursuer's vehicle. It went out and the enemy truck swerved off out of sight.

"Shit man, did you hit them?!" Nate asked, slowing by a smidge. "Thompson? Dude, are they there or not? Thompson, talk words at me, man!"

"Fuck if I know!" Thompson through his arms up.

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"It means they could be back there, but I don't know if they are back there, okay?!"

Nate huffed. "Here, here, I'll turn off."

Silence fell over the two as the truck pulled a right and drove down a foggy forest path.

Thompson glared at Nate as he turned off their headlights. "I feel that look on me dude, I'm not being an asshole, I'm being smart! Uh, ya know...they can't see us!

"Man, I can taste blood in my mouth…!" He quickly spat out the window. "I don't think it's mine…"

"How much stupid can you pull off tonight, dude?" Thompson narrowed his eyes. "Turn the fucking lights on!"

"Stupid? What? This is smart, Thompson! Shut up! They can't find us with the lights off!"

"We can't see a damn thing."

"I can see all the damn things. It's fine."

Thompson rolled his eyes and threw the revolver on the dash. "God, I can't believe we're in this shit."

"Don't barf just yet, okay? Please? This road is really straight. We'll be fine."

"At least slow down!"

"What?! Fuck that, dude!" Nate shook his head. "Did you see that one guy's eyes, man? He was, like, totally gorked. I don't want that guy in my life, Thompson."

"What if there's something in the road?"

"Doesn't matter! We gotta get the fuck away from those guys. They are A-Grade fucking mental."

After a minute, Nate flicked back on the lights.

"It's about time." Thompson huffed

"I will punch your eyes." Nate glared. "See? It's fine. Road's straight as my dick."

Thompson snorted. "Don't talk about your dick, man."

"Why not?" Nate grinned wryly. "Alright, let's Tom Cruise outta here."

"Please, never talk again." Thompson chuckled.

Nate rolled his eyes. "See if there's still any sticky in the glovebox."

Thompson sighed and started fiddling through the strewn about belongings in the glovebox. "I don't see anything…"

"Dude, it's in there. Look harder."

"I don't see it." Thompson said. "What I do see is that ammo you "lost" last week."

"Oh my god, really!?" Nate feigned amazement. "But is there any WEED."

Thompson ignored his friend and began to reload the revolver, struggling a bit in the darkness.

"...one time I was dating this girl, right? Abigail, if you remember her. And she told me that when she was five, her dad-"

"Think loading the gun is probably more important right now. Thanks." Thompson interrupted loudly.

"...okay. Weird but...okay." Nate shrugged, going quiet.

Thompson finished reloading the gun, and tossed it back on the dashboard just as someone came into view on the road.

"SHIT!"

The car slammed into the person. He body went flying and the windshield cracked and stained with dark blood. The car swerved as Nate screamed, pulling over to the side of the road. The car squeaked and circled about, doing rough donuts, before slowing to a stop mere inches from a tree.

The two teens slumped in their seats, panting. What the hell just happened.

"Holy shit, man…" Nate panted. "Holy. SHIT. Did you get a good look? I think that was a guy. This fucking fog...this night is so fucked dude!"

"...I think…I think he was alive." Thompson muttered. "But...what're the chances he still is after that."

Nate's eyes widened before he punched the steering wheel. "Dammit!"

Silence.

"...let's see if there's anything around the car. You know, see if there's something that'll tell us one way or the other." Nate muttered. "I think that way, we can just book. But I'm not leaving if we hit a human being, man. I'm just…not."

Thompson glanced at the side mirror. It was cracked and tilted, though it had cloth hanging from it. "...that's part of a shirt on the mirror, I think."

"Plenty of dead dudes have shirts on, Thompson. Keep looking."

"Does the blood on the windshield look fresh to you?"

"Yeah, but it's...dark."

Thompson squinted out the window into the fog. "...is that the mirror from the car?"

Nate squinted as well. "...I can't tell from here. Too foggy.

"Look, Thompson? ...it was a guy."

"Are you sure."

"Yes."

Thompson squinted. "How sure."

"Pretty fucking sure." Nate shook his head. "'Don't pay for sex drunk' sure."

Thompson sighed. "Jesus…so what do we do?"

"What do you mean what do we do?! We go out there!"

"Go out there and what?!"

"Find the guy and help him! Who the hell are you tonight?!" Nate shouted.

"IF it's a guy."

"It's a guy. I saw him." Nate narrowed his eyes. "Cmon man. This is stupid. We go out there, we check it out, and we get moving."

"Both of us?"

"I mean, I don't know…" Nate shook his head. "Me? I hit the fucking guy. One of us should stay here though...in case."

Thompson breathed, looking out the window, before looking back at Nate. "Okay. Whatever the fuck we do, it has to be fast and it has to be now."

"Shit, okay…" Nate looked him dead in the eye. "We'll rock-paper-scissors for it."

Thomas was dumbfounded.

Nate, what.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Psssh...nope." Nate shook his head, readying his hands. "Cmon man. One round. The winner stays."

Thompson stared at the hand. For whatever reason, this felt like a moment between life and death. He huffed.

Fuck it. You want a game, I'll give you a game, dude.

"Okay. Let's do it." He readied his hand.

"Alright...here we go."

"1."

"2."

"3."

"Hi Thompson! I ate paint when I was a kid! Doyy!" Thompson mocked his friend, sitting alone in the car. "This is a fucking waste of time. We hit some fuck, and it's not like he'll survive. Why do you gotta make a big deal out of this?"

He was fiddling about in the dark, trying to find the keys; Nate had tossed them through the window, and they had landed somewhere in the car.

"Sheesh, if Nate didn't get Lee locked up, maybe we'd have a fucking voice of reason here. Now Lee is probably dead and everything is screwed…" Thompson sighed, though his eyes lit up upon feeling metal in his palm. The teen pulled up the keys. "Awesome-"

He stopped; the moment Thompson looked out the windshield, he stared at the truck that had been pursuing them earlier.

"Shit-!" His door was yanked open, and their pursuer began fighting the teen. Thompson barely had any time to react as his arm was being pulled. He tugged back, fighting to stay in the car.

The man grunted as his grip broke, Thompson getting into the car again. He slammed the door and scrambled into the driver's seat in a panic. This night really was fucked.

The pursuer rounded the car and started bashing on the window with his gun. Thompson slammed the keys into the ignition and started the truck. At the same time, the window broke and Thompson was grabbed again.

"Fuuuuhhhuuuuuuuck!" The teen groaned, punching at his attacker's arm. He slammed the arm into the side of the window frame, making a sickening crack.

"Gaaah!" The man screamed and backed up.

Without even thinking, Thomas screamed in frustration and sped off, circling the area and zooming into the foggy night. He panted, calming down. He was alone. It was silent.

He left Nate behind.

-(End Of Chapter)-