Good Home Cookin': A Novel of Horror (4 page)

“
I said no moving,” Gabe
said with a snicker. No movement this time. “Glad we understand one
another.”

Opening the passenger door, he
withdrew a stained, wooden baseball bat. “My trust is the one thing
you do not have,” he whispered.

Humming, he skipped back to the end of
the truck, twirling the bat in his hand. He swung the bat down with
enough force to make sure the guy was down for the time being. No
movement or noise. Gabe didn’t want him waking up while in
transport to the restaurant.

* * *

“
This is ridiculous. I
told you we shouldn’t have let him drive himself.” Gary said,
leaning against the side of the van.

“
Bullshit! You’re the one
who went all googly eyed over the new ride like a high school girl
picking out her prom dress,” Jerry said from his position sitting
on the ground to the side of the club entrance. “How much longer do
we wait before we cancel the gig?”

They were supposed to be on stage,
opening with the first song, in thirty minutes and Dylan was a no
show. Cancelling a show never looked good and reflected badly on
the band. It meant refunds, pissed off fans, and taking a venue off
the list of places to perform at. A no show brought about a
resolute ‘fuck you’ from the owner and a bashing of your name to
every person they knew.

Rob didn’t understand it. This wasn’t
typical behavior of Dylan. Getting obnoxiously drunk during a
performance was one thing, not showing up was a different animal
altogether.

“
He’s never flaked on a
gig before guys,” Rob said with concern. “I hope nothing happened
to him.”

“
You know he’s probably
shacked up at some bar around here, throwing them back as
usual.”

The doors to the club burst open,
releasing a cloud of smoke mixed with the noise of a packed house.
Framed in the smoke was a portly looking man. Seeing the band, the
owner hurried over, his stomach drooping over his belt from one too
many beers. Dark purple dress shirt, top two buttons open giving a
glimpse of a gold chain nestled in his chest hair, started off the
laughable ensemble. Topping it all off was a pair of tight black
pants, and sunglasses hanging from his collar. His face was flushed
with what one could naturally assume was anger.

Jerry stifled a laugh and turned his
head to the ground as Gary whispered to Rob, “He’s all yours
bud!”

Chapter 8

It felt like his head was splitting in
half. Dylan wasn’t stupid and heard his assailant whisper to
himself before taking a deep breath. The bat glanced his head and
met the floor of the bed. That’s the only reason he was still
conscious. Had it been slightly higher…

It took every ounce of his will power
to stay quiet and not react to the pain radiating from the cheap
shot. Fortunately it was only a few seconds before the truck’s
engine roared to life and they were moving. Rolling his neck
carefully from side to side hurt but he had range of motion. It
would be tender for some time but he would live. Every bump sent
new waves of pain through his body. The chance for escape would
come and he would pounce on it. His fingers found the bat that the
guy had dropped next to him.

That was a mistake Dylan would make
sure he paid for in full.

The truck turned slightly, pitching
him into the side of the bed before it hit what could have been a
ditch or small animal. This guy’s driving skills left much to be
desired. Biting down on his lip helped him stay quiet. He wasn’t
sure if the windows were down but that’s the last thing he needed
at the moment. Surprise was going to be in his favor and he
intended to take advantage of it. He hunkered down, preparing to
launch his attack when the tarp was removed.

* * *

The truck slid to a stop, and he heard
his cargo slam into the back of the cab.

“
Hope that didn’t hurt too
much,” he muttered to himself as he opened the door.

The squeaking was loud and on a
frequency that would make dogs go berserk. Considering the
condition of his pick-up, Gabe really shouldn’t complain. The dark
blue paint had become more of a pale misty color and was peeling in
multiple places. The engine had started to issue an annoying
clicking sound when the speedometer went over thirty. Probably a
sign of trouble brewing, but fixing the truck wasn’t at the top of
Gabe’s priority list.

“
I got us one,” he
hollered, knowing one of his family members would hear
him.

His mom was probably in the kitchen
getting it prepped, his sister cleaning and setting up the dining
area, and his dad… tucked away setting up his work space. The store
room was connected to the restaurant by a short hallway and held
all of their food stuffs: flour, cooking oils, utensils, sugar,
produce, etc. There was a large refrigerator that currently was
stocked with chicken breasts, fresh fish, various vegetables and
condiments, and two containers of meat from Gabe’s last prize that
would be used for appetizers. It wasn’t enough to shake a stick at
which was why he had to go out tonight. Once a week was normally
enough but it just depended on the person’s size, and how busy the
restaurant was.

Steaks, and the Jameson special were
popular items on the menu so they had to keep the meat in stock.
There were times where Gabe had moments of doubt about what they
did but his father had a way of squashing them… quite
forcefully.

A light came on in the store room so
Gabe turned his attention to unloading his cargo. The tarp got
hooked on something near the front of the truck and it wouldn’t
budge. He hauled himself onto the bed of the truck to get better
leverage and pulled again.

Chapter 9

The footsteps came around the bed of
the truck on his right side and he wrapped his hand up in the edge
of the tarp next to his face. The other held the bat firmly and he
waited. The first tug wasn’t hard. The following one nearly tore
his arm out of the socket but he leaned into it, easing the
pressure. The truck sank down lower on the tires and Dylan knew the
man was in the truck with him. Opening his hand freed the tarp and
he took a two handed grip on the bat, anxious to see the face of
his captor.

The tarp flew off fast and he saw the
man’s balance falter. It’s what he was counting on. Tucking his
feet under him, he shot up and swung the bat upward with all of the
strength he could muster. Slipping on the tarp robbed some of the
force and momentum away from the hit but it still did the trick.
The man’s head snapped back with a crack and his body tumbled
backwards out of the truck.

He heard a door open from his right
and didn’t risk a glance in that direction. Head pounding and
feeling slightly dizzy, he kept his hold on the bat and seized his
chance for escape. Jumping over the left side of the truck, he
pumped his legs and took off towards the safety of the woods. The
distance was closing fast and he urged his body forward. The yell
of anger and confusion from behind him only fueled his adrenaline
and speed.

Chapter 10

Jameson’s anger exploded out of him in
a roar at the scene that greeted him upon stepping through the door
of the store room. His son was on the ground, not moving, and a
person was running at full speed for the woods. It wasn’t hard to
surmise what had led to the current predicament.

A moan from his son answered the
question on whether or not he was dead. Not that he would be too
terribly upset, just meant for an increased work load on himself.
Approaching his son, he shook his head in disbelief at his
failure.

The vague outline of the escape artist
disappeared into the tree line. Face scrunched in pain, his son sat
up and reached a hand to him. He swatted it away with
disgust.

“
Worthless. You have one
fucking job to do and you manage to fail at that. Now I’ve got to
go clean up after your mess. What good are you to me if you can’t
carry your own weight?”

Turning his back on his son, he strode
back to the store room without giving Gabe a chance to defend and
explain himself. A few seconds later, Jameson emerged from the
store room, rifle in hand, and a determined look on his face. Gabe
staggered to his feet, gingerly touching his jaw which ached
something fierce. The guy had got quite the drop on him.

“
Go inside and help the
women. Do you think you can handle that you dumb son of a
bitch?”

Gabe stood an inch or two taller than
his father but the man still intimidated him. The look of hurt on
his face disappeared, replaced with one of hatred and violence.
Jameson’s back was to him as he trekked towards the
woods.

“
Asshole.” Gabe couldn’t
believe the word had come from his mouth but a part of him was
proud.

Jameson stopped and shot a glance over
his shoulder.

“
What did you just
say?”

Gabe stood to his full height, puffed
out his chest and repeated himself. Louder this time, “I called you
an asshole.”

Faster than Gabe expected, his father
rushed him and hit him in the gut with the butt of the rifle. The
air burst from him and he wavered on his feet, pleading with his
body to stay upright. The last thing he wanted was to appear any
weaker to this bastard who called himself a father. His knees
buckled but he caught himself before falling on his face. Taking
short breaths kept the pain to a minimum.

A scream exploded from the woods
interrupting his father’s current course of action. Gabe closed his
eyes and thanked the stars for the reprieve.

“
We’re going to have a
long talk later about your lack of respect.”

Chapter 11

Branches snatched at his clothing, and
scratched at his arms and face. The more distance he could put
between himself and these people, the better off he would be. The
dark restricted his vision to just a few feet in front of him but
he was afraid to slow down. He avoided colliding with a tree at
just the last second due to blind luck more than
anything.

The direction didn’t matter at the
moment, as long as he continued to move at a steady clip. He was
bound to come upon a place to seek help from.

A biting pain and twist from his right
ankle brought him crashing to the ground. His adrenaline was
soaring and he tried to get back to his feet but felt a searing
pain in the lower part of his leg. Dylan’s mind had trouble
believing the images it was being sent.

The flesh of his leg above his ankle
was flayed open to the bone and caught in what seemed to be a bear
trap. Blood poured through his fingers as he frantically tried to
pull at the teeth that were currently sunk into his leg. They moved
apart an inch, then two before sliding through his bloodied fingers
to close again. He screamed to the open sky as they scraped and
ground on bone.

* * *

Jameson had strategically placed bear
traps in a two mile radius around the restaurant. Sometimes an
unlucky animal or two got caught in them but that wasn’t their
purpose. This wasn’t the first time a person had tried running from
them and he was prepared for any unforeseen
circumstances.

It wasn’t hard to determine the
direction of the scream because the person was making a hell of a
lot of noise. Not that he could blame him. The problem was that the
more a person moved, the more damage was done by the device. The
half-moon provided just enough light to see the young man sitting
on the ground struggling with the bear trap. The ground around his
leg was a dark crimson and his face was pale and sweaty due to the
loss of blood. He was concentrating so hard on freeing himself that
he had yet to notice Jameson’s approach.

Without making a sound, he raised the
rifle and sighted to the man’s chest, then fired.

Chapter 12

Droplets of blood
continued to leak from his nose like a dripping faucet, collecting
on the floor in small puddles. Gabe sat forward in the chair,
hoping to keep the blood off of his clothes, waiting for his mother
to come in with a towel so he could try and staunch the flow. It
wasn’t his fault the guy took off running. He’d knocked him over
the head with the bat prior to heading back home.
You should have double checked when you parked
the truck. You’re pathetic.

He shook his head, ridding himself of
his father’s scornful voice that was sure to creep back in later
and fester like an infected wound.

“
Damn it,” he said
harshly, as a few drops of blood landed on his pants.

“
Keep quiet Gabe,” a
woman’s voice called softly from behind him. “Do you want your
father coming back in here?”