Headless (5 page)

CHAPTER VIII

     The small family car pulled to a stop on the side of the road. A young woman, maybe sixteen, in the passenger seat, Claire, pushes her door open, and nearly jumps out of the vehicle, leaning down and looking back in the car.

     “You're a married man, pervert!” The car door slams shut.

     “Enjoy your walk, whore! It's the middle of nowhere!” He screamed at her through the glass, before giving her a middle finger as the tires squealed and he sped off, blowing dust up into her face. She coughs, exhaling the dust, before looking around, and begins walking in the same direction he just sped off in.

     Claire strolled down the side of the road, at a steady pace. She took in her surroundings as the scenery became more and more rural. She was a cute almond-skinned girl, with dark eyes, and tied back hair. She wore a bright pink sweater, and grey sweats with a pair of tennis shoes that had seen better days. A roughed up backpack hung heavily from her shoulders. Her eyes went back to the road, as she continued strolling along.

     “Maybe I should have blown him, after all,” she tells herself, laughing at the situation.

     It had been twenty-three days, eleven hours, and some change since she ran away from home with her twenty-four-year-old boyfriend, Greg. It had been about twenty days since she came back from the store to find Greg in their hotel bed with the mother of four from the room next to theirs, while her kids were down at the pool. She was bound and determined to make it as far away from her Midwest life as possible, though. So she just kept heading east.

     The sun was hanging low at this point, and that fact didn't escape her. With no idea where she was, and even worse of an idea how far it was to the next point of civilization, she raised a thumb in the air, hoping for a stroke of luck.

     And she just so happened to get it.

     Puttering down the road behind her, trekking up dirt, is a rusted brown tow truck swerving around the road. Judd drinks from a flat bottle of whiskey, as he speeds along the rural street, glazed over eyes turned towards the ceiling of the cab, where the old fabric has torn away from the rusted metal.

     Claire barely turns her attention to the swerving truck, before she leaps out of the way, waving her arms, and screaming out. Judd grabs the wheel with both hands, steadying the vehicle, and looks back through the dusty rear window, knowing he may have hit something.

     “Shit. Momma's gonna be mad if I put another dent in the truck.”

     He brakes, then begins backing up. He closes the bottle, hiding it under his seat then puts the truck in park, climbing out and limping around to the passenger side, examining the truck before looking to where Claire is still fighting to get to her feet from out of the brush.

     “Well hell girl, what you doin' walkin' in the middle of the damn road for?”

     “I wasn't in the middle of the road you fucking Country bumpkin. I was walking down the side of the road, and you were swerving like a maniac!” She hissed as she climbed to her feet. If looks could kill, Judd would have been struck dead from her piercing gaze. He brushed his hands off on his dingy overalls, and offers her a hand, before she swats it away. “The hell is the matter with you, anyways? Are you blind, drunk or retarded?”

     He stiffens at her attitude. “Young lady, I don't appreciate the way you're speaking to your elder like that. Now I offered you a hand up, and you ain't showing the proper respect. Now, because I believe in Jesus, I'm going to give ya one last chance, and offer you a ride into town. You want a ride, or not?”

     Claire stares down at the ground, frustrated. On one hand, she's tempted to punch the man. On the other, it'll be dark fairly soon, and she still has no idea where she's at. The ache creeping up in her hip from the way she fell doesn't help, either.

     “Yeah, I'll take a ride.”

     “Then get your stuff, and get on up in the cab. I got work to do. Come on!” He waves her on, as he heads back around the truck, getting in. She climbs in with him, putting her backpack between her legs.

     “Where you headin' too?” Judd asks, looking over at the girl.

     His eyes linger on her chest longer than would usually be considered appropriate. She senses this and glances over, catching him as he looks away. Claire slides just a bit further over towards the passenger door.

     “I honestly don't know. Just travelling.”

     “A girl your age. Hell, you're what? Fifteen?”

     “Nineteen. I get that a lot, though. That I look younger. You know, a lot of people tell me I should model or act. Something like that,” she lied.

     He knew she was lying, and didn't hide it on his face, but he bit his tongue, and kept his attention on the road. She reaches over and starts turning the radio knobs, trying to find a station worth listening too. Most of what she gets back is static, and her touching the stereo without permission draws a look of ire from her local driver. She stops on a station that comes through fairly clearly, and listens:

        I looked, and there before me was a pale horse!

          Its rider was named Death,

          and Hades was following close behind him.

          They were given power over a fourth of the earth to kill by sword,              

           famine and plague, and by the wild beasts of the earth!

          Revelation 6:8

          My brothers, and sisters, dark times are ahead. Dark times, indeed!

          I want you to be ready for when the devil comes for you! And remember,

          it won’t be horns, a tail and pitchfork. It'll be a friend; a neighbor; a lover.

    
Claire shakes her head. “Is that all you got around here, Jesus shit?”

     This blasphemous tone sets Judd off, and he punches the button on the radio, shutting it off. He doesn't so much as respond to her question, as he glares out at the road. She raises her eyebrows, shocked by his temper, but turns her attention out the window, wondering what she said.

     “Judd, you out there? Pick up,” a male voice buzzes from the radio on the dash.

     “Judd here,” he responds, picking up the radio mic.

     “Sheriff Williams, here. Boy, I need ya out at the bridge ASAP. Got a couple cars that need to be taken off.”

     “Understood, Sheriff. On my way,” Judd hangs up the mic. “We're taking a bit of a detour, girl.”

     Claire exhaled heavily. Now she was off on some backroads adventure with this creepy man, and some hick Sheriff. Her good luck suddenly didn't seem so good, anymore.

     Sheriff Williams leaned against his squad car, chewing on a toothpick. Mid-fifties, big hat, bigger gut, and handlebar mustache, he wasn't chasing many perps down on foot. He chewed on a toothpick, as he watched Judd's tow truck pull up from behind dark sunglasses. Judd pulls to a stop behind the squad car, and hops out. Claire joins him.

     “What's the matter Sheriff?” Judd inquires, looking at the vehicles sitting there at the bridge. He takes special note of the truck. “Shit, is that old man Jenkins' ride?”

     “I think so. Who's the girl?”

     “Oh, a stray I picked up on the side of the road,” Judd acknowledged the girl, nodding to her. He clears his throat. “Now, what you want to do is head over this here bridge, and just stay on the trail. About a thirty-minute walk, and you'll be in town.”

     “Are you sure?” Claire asks, staring at the rickety bridge, and the dark path on the other side.

     “Judd, what the hell you doing?” Sheriff Williams look at him, slack-jawed.

     Judd raises his hands, and nods. “Yeah, that's the right way girl. I promise ya. Go on now, it'll be dark soon. Get there and find you a motel to sleep at.”

     Claire nods, and grabs her bag out of his truck, heading for the bridge. She starts to cross it, and makes it about a third of the way, before turning back to the two men, who stand there watching her.

     “Go on, now! Hurry your pretty little head up!” Judd yells after her.

     “You know damn well the town ain't that way, Judd,” the Sheriff grumbles.

     “Yeah, but that blasphemous little bitch don't know that. Let her wander around for a bit. Maybe she'll learn some respect.” Judd nods, watching as Claire disappears to the other side of the bridge. He looks back at the truck. “So you think old man Jenkins --”

     “I'd say so. The ol' timer had all-timers, you know? Forgot who he was half the time. Probably forgot where he was goin', and wound up out here.”

     The Sheriff looked around at the woods. His gaze stops, looking across the bridge. Judd followed his line of sight and shook his head.

     “Poor sum'bitch, had to be today of all days,” Judd exhaled.

     Williams nodded his agreement.

     “He's a local, I'm gonna have to put in a report. Fuckin' paperwork, old timer. Means I'll have to send out a Deputy to do a sweep. Protocol and shit. Use that new Deputy, he ain't been here long. Go by and let Mrs. Jenkins' know, too. Damn Halloween,” the Sheriff grumbled.

     “Whatchu want me to do with the truck?”

     “Tow it in. May be some personal stuff in there his wife will want.”

     “What about the other car?”

     “Leave it for now. Can you do me a favor when you get back in town?”

     “Sure, Sheriff. What do ya need?”

     “Make sure the Preacher's wife has them kids carving jack-o-lanterns, and getting them out here before dark. Got to keep the tradition.”

     Judd nods in agreement as the old Sheriff lowers himself into his squad car with a heavy grunt. He starts the car, and takes off. Judd watches him, before he heads for his truck, getting in and starting to turn the vehicle around to back it up.

CHAPTER IX

     Claire makes her way along the winding path, heading the direction Judd told her too. She whistles an incoherent tune to herself, as she walks.

     “Crazy hillbilly fuck.” She grumbles to herself.

     About twenty minutes later, and she's wandering through the same town square the others had been too. She stops at the cooler, staring at it confused, before looking around at the dilapidated buildings. It wouldn't have been possible just a half hour ago, but somehow accepting a ride from a stranger seemed to have ended up with her more lost than when she had been on the main road.

     She opens the cooler, and finds the alcohol floating there. Claire reaches in and pulls out a foreign draft, opening it using the edge of the cooler. She takes a long drink, before turning her attention back to her surroundings. Why was the cooler there, but no one around? The ice had melted so it was there for a while. Maybe someone forgot it when they left? But there were cars at the bridge...

     “Hello? Anyone here!? Hello!”

     Silence.

     Claire shrugs, and finishes off the beer in her hand, before stealing a couple more from the cooler, and continuing on through the town. Perhaps the city the driver told her about was further down? Worth a shot. She made a game out of kicking the larger rocks as she passed them, humming a tune to herself in the process.

     Another ten minutes or so, and the path had become far too small for anything other than a person to get by on. The old town had been left behind, and she was surrounded by nothing but trees. Trees so thick, in fact, that the sun was all but hidden. Rays of light illuminated her path ahead, but it wasn't incredibly inviting. Claire found herself jumping at any fluttering of birds, or scrambling of small animals. She'd give anything to be in a city, with hotels, diners, and a shower. What she wouldn't do for a shower right now.

     As her mind wandered, her pace quickened. She found herself deeper, and deeper into the woods, until there really wasn't a path left at all. Maybe the drunk with the tow truck didn't know his way around, after all?
Impossible,
she thought. He had clearly spent his whole life in these backwoods.

     “Maybe he did it just to fuck with you?” she mumbled to herself, and came to a stop with the realization. Either that, or it was the fifteen foot drop off into the water below. “Mother fucker!”

     She looked down into the water, realizing the sun had found its way back out again. Or she had just found her way out of the dense woods. Either way, it was a fifteen-foot drop to the water, and it was about thirty feet across. Claire stood there, scratching her head, as she looked both ways, finding that this ledge went about as far as her eye could see in either direction. It was a dead end.

     “Too bad I left my fucking kayak in my other jeans.”

     Claire rolled her eyes, and reached back, launching the beer bottle as far as she could across the water. She watched as it shattered on the rocks along the edge of the other side. For the first time this afternoon, she checked her watch. It was frozen on the time. She tapped the face a couple times, and it didn't budge.

     “I just bought this damn thing!” She looked up at the sun, trying to gauge the time. “Best to find some place to sleep. Or find who's cooler that was, either way.”

     She groaned, and turned back the way she came. Not noticing the large black shape move in unison further back in the trees.

     Another twenty minutes or so pass, and she finds herself back amongst the buildings. Her pace had slowed to a stroll. She wasn't getting anywhere tonight. As she came out of the woods, into the clearing she found that dark clouds had formed in the distance. Great. A storm to top off her shitty day. She continued her slow stroll to the nearest building, running her hand along the faded grey wall that was likely bright white, at some point.

     “You'll do just fine,” she nodded, looking up to find a cross still towering on the roof.

     It was the town Church. Or had been, at one point in time. She noticed that it was also the best maintained building of the bunch, still standing strong, despite a few broken windows, and faded paint. She walked to the large doors, and pushed them open; wood and metal creaking loudly as she did so. She looks over all the pews, most of them broken, and finds the large cross that had once adorned the wall above the Pastor's podium had broken free from its rope, and splintered against the floor.

     As she made her way towards the front of the Church, she noticed that the dirt built up on the windows made it fairly dark in the building. By the time she reached the front of the Church, the back half where she had entered from was nearly pitch black. Claire drops her bag on the podium, and unbuckles her sleeping bag, rolling it out on the ground, brushing away dust as she does so.

     “Can't be too bad here for one night.”

     Thunder rumbles in the distance; she grabs her backpack and plops down on the sleeping bag, resting her head on the pack.
Maybe you should have blown the married man after all,
she thinks to herself, before laughing at the course of the afternoon, that brought her to this point in time.

     After a few minutes of tossing and turning, she laid on her back, staring up at the ceiling. As dark as it was in here, it still wasn't late enough to sleep. She was hoping to ride out the storm in her dreams, but that didn't seem to be a viable option at this point in time. Claire sat up and turned to her backpack, opening it up. After a moment of searching, she pulled out a small blue vibrator, that she had picked up along the way.

     “You'll never leave me, or cheat on me will you?” She asked the inanimate object, petting it lovingly.

     She pressed the button on the end once, and a low hum filled the air. A smile crossed her face at this sound, as she reached down, unbuttoning her pants. The creak of the large door interrupted her, though; and the slam shut made her jump as she sat there, pants unzipped and vibrator still humming in her hand.

     As Claire climbed to her feet, she peered towards the entrance of the Church, but couldn't make anything out in the dark. Her pants fell a couple inches, sitting low on her hips, as she gripped the sex toy, her only weapon available to her at the moment. Something moved in the dark across the room.

     “Hello? Are you the one that owns that cooler outside?”

     No response.

     “Do you know where we're at? Some guy told me this was the way into town, but there's nothing north of here. It's just a river. I could use a ride if you're heading that way?”

     Still no response. She looked down at the vibrator in her hand.

     “If you're in here looking for a free show, you can fuck off, alright? The only person getting amusement off this thing is me!”

     And again, nothing. She can see the outline of someone standing there, but still too dark to make out. She scoffs, and raises a middle finger, shaking her head. By the time she starts to sit down on her sleeping bag, the blade of the axe glows red, and it spins through the air in her direction. It sticks into the cross on the back wall, and her arm, still holding up the middle finger, smacks against the wood as well.

     Her mouth sits agape as she falls back against the preacher's podium, staring at the cauterized nub that used to be her arm. By the time young Claire turns her attention back to her attacker, the Horseman is crossing the Church towards her. It's heavy boots clopping on the wood with every step. She swings once at the killer with the sex toy, and misses. The Horseman reaches down, grabbing a fist full of her hair, and she screams out in pain as it lifts her off the ground.

     “No! Please stop! Please!” She cries out, tears streaming down her face. She tries to grab at its hand in her hair with one hand, but only bumps it's arm with her stump, and is swinging wildly with the other. “Put me down!”

     The Headless Horseman catches her hand swinging the sex toy as she tries to hit it, and rips the object away from her. It rears back, and jams the vibrator into her eye socket, cracking skull and pushing it up into brain, as it's hand hits the button and turns the toy on high, her head shaking and bouncing with the vibration.

     “Please...puh – puh – puh...” the young woman stammers as her voice comes to match the rhythm of the vibrating.

     Claire's mouth hangs agape, as she gags to death, blood pouring down her face. The Horseman pulls the toy from her eye socket and lets her body fall to the ground. He holds the vibrator up, as if examining it, before dropping it next to her. The Horseman makes its way to the axe stuck in the cross, and pulls it from the wood with little effort.

     As the Horseman steps over her twitching body, and makes its way back to the entrance of the Church, it pauses turning back to the podium. Young Claire's body finally stops twitching, as she goes limp, her blood seeping out over the steps, like a gentle trickle. The Horseman does something wholly unexpected, and crosses itself, before exiting the building. The gentle hum of the vibrator echoing on the wood next to Claire's dead body.