Page 6 of Getaway


  After what seemed like an eternity, they saw a clearing up ahead. In the middle of the clearing was a farmhouse. “Oh crap!” Tom said, “I hope we are not too late.”

  “If George is a resourceful as Fred, we may have to save the criminals from him,” said Steve.

  Chapter 22

  Diablo drifted in and out of consciousness as Slasher dragged him along behind him. What the hell! He thought. Violated by a bull, really?! That was probably the most painful, if not the longest bull ride in history, he thought.

  They seemed to be making pretty good time through the woods. Every now and then, Slasher would stop and adjust his grip on Diablo. Diablo was now fully awake, and in a lot of pain. He tried to walk, but felt broken and bowlegged. After a few minutes, he was able to walk fast enough that the others didn’t have to slow down to let him catch up.

  They came across a farmhouse, and Diablo figured that the owner of the bull, which Diablo kept referring to as “Satan,” must live here. Boy did he have a present to give this guy, he thought. I am going to kill him slowly and painfully, thought Diablo. This guy was going to pay for what that stupid bull had done to him.

  When they got to the back door of the house, Slasher saw his reflection in the window in the door. “Yooou baasaarrrsh!” he snarled through his taped jaw. He turned to Doc and lunged at him. Doc easily dodged him, and Slasher fell face first in a pile of dog crap. This infuriated him even more, and now he renewed his attack with vigor. He seemed to make it his life’s purpose to murder Doc.

  Doc, on the other hand, found this extremely amusing. Here he was, after all, being pursued by, as he would later call it, a “shit faced bunny.”

  Diablo was in no mood for this “horseplay,” as his father used to call it, and his mood was getting darker by the second. They were making enough noise to raise the dead, and he needed to kill. He thought about how he was going to steal this family’s souls, and it made him edgy. Why did he have to put up with these two? He tried the doorknob, and it turned easily in his hand. He slipped quietly into the house, leaving the other two morons rolling around on the ground outside.

  Diablo knew that he would have to work fast if he wanted the element of surprise on his side. The sun was up now, and the clock on the stove in the kitchen read 7:30. The house was silent and still, so either the occupants had decided to sleep in, or nobody was home. He imagined the farmer and his wife sleeping on their bed, and imagined the look of horror on their faces when they saw him. Diablo wished secretly that he could somehow make himself look even scarier by wearing a hockey mask like in the movies. He made his way to the attached garage, after realizing that he didn’t have a weapon. Diablo was a realist, and realized that if he was going to have to kill two or more people, he was going to have to arm himself with something other than his bare hands.

  He entered the garage and looked around. He found a nice sized monkey wrench and an axe. He opted for the axe, because it had greater reach, and it was just plain scarier looking. As he was leaving, he spotted an old metal welding mask lying next to the door. “Perfect!” he exclaimed. Now he felt that he was ready for action. As he made his way through the house, he practically skipped with glee.

  Diablo wound his way through the house until he reached what he felt was the master bedroom. He donned the welding mask, hefted the axe, and turned the doorknob.

  Suddenly, he realized two things that had not occurred to him: 1) Welding masks have tinted glass to protect a welder’s eyes, so they are almost impossible to see through unless there is a blinding flash of light (like the arc from a welding torch); and 2) axes make very cumbersome weapons, especially indoors.

  Diablo opened the door to the bedroom and stumbled blindly into the room. He raised the axe over his head and instantly heard a thwack, as the axe was wrenched out of his hands. Immediately after the axe was wrenched out of his hands, Diablo saw a flash through the welding mask and heard a deafening blast come from the direction of the bed, and something really hard slammed into the welding mask. He felt himself flying backwards through the doorway as he lost consciousness.

  Chapter 23

  George and Betty Green had slept in that morning. George knew that he should go take the bull to the market this morning, but after the hellish experience he had last time, he was not in a hurry to do so. Besides, he thought, I will need to borrow someone’s cattle trailer.

  He remembered how his bull, Maximo, had fought him the last time he tried to take him to the market. Maximo had fought him inside the trailer, and George barely escaped with his life. Before George had a chance to bolt the door, Maximo had managed to escape from the trailer. George remembered how he had watched helplessly as Maximo rammed the trailer again and again.

  George rolled over in the bed and hugged Betty. She cuddled next to him and squirmed against him seductively. Hey now, he thought, this just got way better!

  Betty Green was ten years younger than George, and very pretty. She had just turned thirty last month, and still looked like she was in her mid-twenties. She took good care of herself, exercising daily, and watching what she ate. She had curves in all the right places, and sure knew how to use them to her advantage.

  George had met her at a rodeo in town ten years ago, and they had dated for six months before George had popped the question. She had been coy at first, enjoying torturing him a little by not answering him right away, but soon she caved in and said yes. He had been overjoyed, and picked her up and kissed her passionately on the lips. For a moment, they felt like they were the only two people on earth.

  Five years later, Betty had gone to the doctor to find out why she was unable to get pregnant, and had been told that she would be unable to bear children. Betty had been heartbroken, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin her life. Betty and George had discussed it and had decided to adopt.

  Betty had her heart set on a little girl, and George wanted a boy. They went to the classes they were required to attend, and were put on a waiting list. They were called by the Indiana Department of Child Services several times about children who were available for adoption, however, the children were always awarded to other families. Five years later, they were still waiting.

  George fondled Betty’s breasts and kissed her on the back of the neck. “My, we’re feeling frisky this morning, aren’t we?” Betty cooed.

  George pulled Betty in close and she gave him a few slow pelvic thrusts, and grinded against his leg. George let his left hand wander to her slim waistline, while he gently kissed her behind her ear. He traced the line between her perfect breasts and her cute bellybutton, and nibbled on her ear lobe playfully. George could hear Betty starting to breathe more heavily, and she started rubbing her beautiful bottom up against him.

  “Glad to see something is awake this morning,” Betty teased. George told himself to take it slow, so Betty would be able to enjoy it more when the time came. George traced her bellybutton with his finger and slowly and lightly moved his hand downward. George always felt like a teenager discovering the wonders of the female anatomy for the first time every time he made love to Betty. Betty arched her back as George’s fingers found the right spot. A few minutes later Betty whispered, “take me now, George.”

  Fifteen minutes later, George and Betty lay next to each other breathing heavily, thoroughly spent. Neither of them thought that they could move, and didn’t care if they ever moved again. George felt like his spirit had floated out of his body and was hovering above the bed. Betty thought that if she were ‘a cat she would purr. Wow, she thought, It just keeps getting better and better!

  When they had married, she had been sexually inexperienced and had been really apprehensive on their wedding night. What if I suck at sex? She had thought to herself. Will he still want to be with me? The first time with George had been awkward, but fun, and they had made love seven times that night, staying up all night. The next day, neither of them could walk. They slept in and got up at two o’clock in the afternoo
n. She remembered that she had thought that she would be pregnant after that, but it wasn’t meant to be.

  Maybe, she thought, God meant for us to adopt a child and bring this child peace and love, which she hadn’t known before.

  A second later, there was a frantic knocking on the front door. George pulled on some clothes, and made his way to the door. This had better be an emergency, he thought, as he opened the door.

  Fred was standing on the front doorstep with a crazy look in his eyes. He shouted for them to get out of the house and go to the Police station immediately. “What’s this all about, Fred?” asked George.

  “Please, just trust me, “ Fred screamed, “your lives are in danger.”

  Chapter 24

  Fred had made his way back to the road, and had followed it running as fast as he could toward George’s house. When he got there, he ran to the door and pounded frantically on it until George finally answered it. Fred screamed to George that his life was in danger, and that he and Betty should leave as quickly as possible.

  “What’s this all about, Fred?” said George.

  Fred briefed George about what had happened. Fred told him, “If you don’t leave, these killers will be here any minute, and I don’t want you and your wife to become their next victims. I plan to fix the problem, and make sure that nobody else falls victim to these idiots.”

  “I don’t believe in running away from my problems, and I’ve never shied away from a good fight.”

  “At least make sure that Betty gets to safety first, George.”

  “That I can do.”

  George disappeared down the hallway, and a few minutes later, Betty appeared.

  “Hi, Fred,” said Betty, as she put on a jacket and grabbed the car keys which were hanging on a peg by the door.

  Fred nodded to Betty, and wordlessly she slid out the door, closing it behind her. Fred heard the car start up and drive away.

  After Betty departed, Fred walked to the kitchen, where he could see through the back door. George stood next to him breathing heavily with his shotgun in his hands.

  “Why don’t you hide in the hallway bathroom, and I’ll hide in the bedroom?” said Fred.

  “Okay, Fred, but I’m going to teach these guys not to mess with country folks.”

  A few minutes later, Fred saw the three criminals come limping up. “Bunny Man” was about to open the door, when he suddenly screamed and lunged at “Toga Boy.” Fred thought at first that Bunny Man had seen him, but this didn’t seem to be the case. Fred suddenly had a devilish thought, what if I lay in wait for them in the bed, like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood? The thought made him chuckle. Boy, won’t they be surprised!

  Fred tiptoed back to the bedroom and shut the door. He crawled under the covers with his shotgun ready. When the door knob had turned and the door opened, he had expected to see one of the three men standing there with a malicious grin on his face, however, when he peeked through the bed covers, he saw a psychotic welder with an axe come stumbling into the room. The welder raised the axe to strike, and it struck the ceiling fan, which wrenched it from his hands.

  Fred took aim at the welder’s head and squeezed the trigger. The shotgun bucked and there was a deafening roar as the 00 buckshot pellets slammed into the welding helmet. The man went flying backward through the bedroom door into the hallway. Fred got up to survey the damage, and discovered that the shotgun blast had not killed the man.

  George came out of the bathroom and gave a low whistle, “They come in all shapes and sizes don’t they?” he said.

  The criminal lay sprawled across the floor in the hallway with a welding mask on. The eight shotgun pellets had slammed into the helmet and most had deflected. A trickle of blood was coming out of the helmet, and formed a puddle on the floor. One pellet had taken out the man’s left eye, and another had dug a groove in the man’s forehead, but didn’t look as if it had entered the man’s brain. The criminal was unconscious and lying on his back.

  “This must have been the third criminal, ‘Butt Man,’ Fred said.

  “Butt man?” said George.

  Fred described the horrific bull ride that this man had taken earlier, and George chuckled until Fred motioned to him to be quiet.

  Fred told George that he almost felt sorry for this poor idiot. That bull ride had been horrific! Fred and George quickly rolled the man over, and used one of George’s belts to tie the man’s hands behind him. Fred noticed that the man was wearing his best hunting coveralls, and that the seat had been torn completely out. The coveralls were covered in blood and crap, and both men shuttered uncontrollably. “You can keep the coveralls, big fella,” Fred whispered to the unconscious man, “I don’t want ‘em back.”

  Fred grabbed the man’s feet and dragged him into the bedroom closet, so the other two wouldn’t find him if they came looking, and George took up his position in the hallway bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar, so he had a good view of the hallway. Fred hid in the bedroom closet, standing astride the unconscious criminal. As he closed the closet door, he heard the back door of the house creak open. Fred peeked through the slats in the closet door, and racked another shotgun shell into the chamber of the shotgun as quietly as he could.

  Chapter 25

  “What the hell was that?” asked Doc, as he attempted to disentangle himself from Slasher, who was rolling around on the ground trying to strangle him. Slasher paused long enough for Doc to break free and come to his feet. “I could swear I just heard a gunshot come from inside the house,” Doc explained. Slasher moaned something, and Doc thought he sounded a little like that psycho Carl Childers from the movie Sling Blade. They both walked over to the back door of the house and listened carefully. There was some kind of movement coming from elsewhere in the house, but they weren’t sure where. Doc suddenly realized that Diablo was missing. He slowly opened the door, which made a horrible creeeeek sound, and Slasher went barging past him into the kitchen. Slasher led the way through the house. They came to a hallway, and tiptoed down the hall toward an open bedroom door.

  The house was quiet, too quiet with that idiot Diablo in it. Slasher expected Diablo to be in a blind rage again, smashing the walls with furniture like he did at the other house, or loudly butchering the occupants of the house like a rabid wolf or something. Instead, they were met with silence. He doubted that Diablo even knew how to be stealthy.

  When Slasher turned to enter the room, he slipped on a puddle of blood, and fell flat on his butt. A shot rang out, and one of the bunny ears on Slasher’s head disappeared. “Holy Crap!” Doc screamed. The two men desperately scrambled into the room, and dove through a window behind the bed, without even pausing to open it. Doc was first one out the window, and after passing through the window, shattering it into a million pieces, he landed neatly in a thorn bush which had been planted just under the window. “Roses,” he muttered, “what kind of sadistic bastard plants roses under his windows?” He would be picking thorns and broken glass out of his hide for days to come, thought Doc. Slasher wasn’t quite as lucky, because as he dove through the window, he was caught full in the butt by a second shotgun blast. Eight .38 caliber pellets tore into the flesh of Slasher’s buttocks, sending him flying out the window, where he landed in a heap about ten feet away.

  Doc grabbed Slasher and dragged him out of sight of the window. He found a wheelbarrow in the yard, and heaved Slasher into it. Doc soon discovered that this was next to impossible to do with only one arm. He took Slasher’s belt off and made a loop with the buckle, which he placed on one of the wheelbarrow handles. Doc grabbed the end of the belt with his teeth and managed to stumble along for about twenty yards or so until they reached the tree line again. He would have to figure out a better way to transport Slasher now, because the wheelbarrow wouldn’t work in the woods. He managed to get Slasher over his shoulder, and ran as far into the woods as he could get, before he collapsed from exhaustion at the effort.

  As Doc lay there panting
, he reflected on what had just happened, and tried to replay it in his mind. How had it gone so wrong? Where was that idiot Diablo, and what had Slasher slipped on? Was that blood, and if so, whose was it? Who was shooting at them, and how did they seem to know that they were coming? None of it made any sense to him as he thought about it.

  Chapter 26

  Diablo regained consciousness and found himself in a closet with his hands tied behind his back. He was having trouble seeing, and his head was throbbing terribly. “What the hell happened?” he mumbled to himself. Everything had been going as planned, but suddenly everything had gone to hell. Diablo worked his wrists until he was able to get his hands free. He vaguely remembered a tremendous blast that had blown him off his feet, and felt his face to see if he was all right. When he discovered his ruined eye, he moaned and retched. He turned and threw up in a boot, which had been lying next to him in the closet. He felt his head and discovered a deep furrow in his forehead going around his head on the right side.

  Diablo cautiously eased himself out of the closet and saw the welding helmet lying on the floor a few feet away. At first he thought that wearing it had been a terrible idea, but upon reflection, he realized that the helmet had saved his life. There were lots of dents in it, and two holes in the glass. If he hadn’t been wearing it, he would have lost his head.

  Diablo decided that he would have to get out of here before the wack job with the gun returned, so he tiptoed out of the room and made his way to the open front door. The house was quiet, but he could hear two people talking to each other in another room. Were they calling the cops, or planning how to dispose of him? Diablo looked to the left and right to make sure nobody was waiting for him, and he opened the door and ran for the woods with all of his might.

  When Diablo reached the tree line, he dove in head first, slamming into a large oak tree, and rolling to a stop against a boulder at the bottom of a ravine. He hadn’t realized how the missing eye would effect his depth perception, and had thought that the tree was farther away. Diablo was panting and his head was throbbing now. He felt like he had a hangover, and he still tasted barf, but he was alive. He had escaped once again. That had been a close call, he thought to himself. How many more of those would he survive? He realized that he would have to be more careful if he wanted to survive.