We stopped an hour or so later at the gas station to refuel. I sat in the passenger seat while Johnny filled the car.
"I'll be a second, just gotta use the men's," he said. I nodded as he closed the door and walked round the back of the gas station. Inside, I was screaming. I did not want to be left alone again.
To pass the time I played about with my phone. But then the battery died and I was left sat in the dark of the car, looking out the windscreen at the starry sky. After about ten minutes, I got worried. Then I saw Johnny walking back to the car and I felt better. Except…
It didn't look like Johnny. The figure was too tall, too thin. As he came into the light of the gas station, I saw he was wearing a white hoodie covered in blood. He was also clutching the keys to the car. As I scrambled to open the door, he locked the car, trapping me.
When he reached the car, he stared at me through the window for a second, that insane smile on his face. Then he crouched down and slid under the car. This was followed by several thumps and bangs, like he was kicking something underneath the car. A black box came free and skittered across the ground. The tracker box.
He clambered out, picked up the box, then unlocked the car. Opening the door, he seized me as I made a futile attempt to escape.
"Bitch…" he dragged me towards the station, around the back, and kicked back the men's room door.
He tossed me inside, and my eyes were met with the most gruesome sight I had ever seen. Johnny was lying against the sink, his chest cavity ripped open. Entrails everywhere. His expression was one of complete horror, frozen onto his face forever. The blood splattered up the walls, into the sink, the toilet, everywhere. The mirror was cracked, half on the floor in shards. There had to have been a fight.
Jeff stepped past me and rammed the tracker box into Johnny's open chest.
"What do you think?" Jeff growled at me, "Artistic, isn't it?"
I just whimpered and tried to crawl away. He laughed and grabbed me, forcing me to my feet.
"P-please!" I tried to struggle away, "Please just get it over with!" I sobbed.
He looked at me with those hard eyes, "Get it over with?!" he chuckled, "Oh no, I haven't finished with you yet. You're too much fun," his hand was unforgiving as it tightened around my throat.
"B-but, how did you find us?!"
"I managed to steal an undercover cruiser after losing the cops. Used their own tracking device against them. Let's just say they shouldn't be too much of a problem for a while," he tossed Johnny's keys at his lifeless body. "It would be unwise to use his car. I have the other one ready. They'll be here soon, no doubt. Their system should lead them right here," he gazed own at Johnny, as if admiring his handiwork. Then he sneered, raised a foot and swung it at Johnny's face. His jaw audibly cracked under the force.
"Stop it!" I yelled.
"Why should I?! He's dead now anyway!" Jeff roared back, his face twisting up into a smile, "He was quite the squealer too,"
I thrashed against him but there was no hope of escape. His grip was like a vice. My attempts just made him laugh.
"C'mon. I'd much rather not be around when your police pals show up," he pulled me out the door, across the lot to another car, an unmarked police car judging from the equipment on the dashboard. It would blend in perfectly, looking no different than an ordinary silver Volvo on the outside. He shoved me into the passenger side, then got in himself.
"Why won't you just kill me?!"
"Like I said, you're fun. And I want to make you pay for sending me on that rat race."
"Don't you think you've tortured me enough?!"
"No. Not nearly enough," he chuckled, "You're boyfriend was annoying. As was your cop friend. They got what was coming to them,"
"You bastard!" I threw myself at him, struggling with him. I managed to grab his knife and tried to stab him but he twisted out of the way and threw me back hard against the door. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head down onto the dashboard.
Pain exploded behind my eyes. His voice seemed to grow dim as I sat slumped against the dash, his hand untangling itself from my hair.
Then the car started and he turned back onto the freeway.