The Death Run (A Short Story) by Sandra Ruttan Read Free Book Online

THE DEATH RUN
    The day after the accident, a lone figure went to the place near the edge of the woods and gravel pit. The wind blew his straggly, long hair into his face, making it harder to find the right spot.
    When he found it, he glanced around, double-checking that nobody had put things together and followed him there.
    Nobody had.
    He dug up the can and cracked the lid.
    It was gone. It was all gone. Only an old watch was inside. He dropped the tin in a panic. Were they on to him?
    He should run. Run until his body was earning the frantic breaths that were already coming hard and fast.
    As he turned, he saw it. A small slip of paper was inside the lid. He bent down and peeled off the tape that held it in place.
    The Four-Oh is permanently canceled. Get out of town. Don’t come back or you’ll be next.
    Below, there was a list. A column of five numbered lines. Each number had one initial beside it.
    1. C
    2. G
    3. J
    4. T
    5. J?
    This time, he dropped the can and ran.
    He wasn’t taking any chances; he left town that afternoon.
    Two Days Earlier
    “So, like I was sayin’ we jest keep on with the Four-Oh run. Jay’s cool with it.” Judd grinned. He glanced at the counter and the grin faded. “Place half-empty and there’s no time to make a fresh pot? Geez.”
    “Need a coffee, Judd?”
    Judd looked up. “Oh, hey Colin. Yeah, a round. Didn’t see you there.”
    Colin watched Judd saunter back to his booth, where he’d been talking loudly to his friends.
    Loud enough that Colin could hear. Wasn’t hard, though. Stuck in a small town, still invisible. He was surprised Judd even knew his name.
    Colin slid off the bar stool where he’d been sitting, a few feet from Judd’s table, and walked down to the cash register.
    “Hi, Eileen,” he said.
    The petite blonde turned and offered him a smile as she grabbed donuts and stacked them inside a box.
    “Can I get four coffees?” He glanced back at Judd’s table as he tucked his newspaper under his arm. “Uh, fresh?”
    “Sure thing.”
    Her voice sounded like honey to him. Not that he knew what honey sounded like, but it was how he imagined it would. Her eyes seemed to shine with hope, like she hadn’t given in to the disillusionment of being a high-school dropout, working as a waitress in a small-time coffee shop, making pots of coffee and boxing donuts all day long.
    Eileen passed the coffees over to him and gave him another smile. “Thanks for hooking me up with your brother. He’s nice.”
    Colin forced himself to smile back, although he didn’t have to push himself too hard. He’d known about her reputation. They lived in a small town, after all. He would’ve overlooked that for himself.
    But she’d turned him down.
    Things were different since then, but she was still important to him. Perhaps more important than ever.
    He paid her and tried to ignore the way just the touch of her fingers sent goose bumps up his arms and a feeling of warmth to his face as he took the coffees over to the table.
    Colin nodded at Graeme and Terry.
    “How’s Corey doin’? Still in the city?” Graeme took a gulp without even bothering to look in Colin’s direction, or say thanks. Graeme had always been ruthless; Colin had endured his taunting at school, and knew the backsides of those fists well.
    For the life of him, he couldn’t remember a single reason why Graeme had used him as a punching bag, but then Corey had put a stop to that.
    Corey.
    “Yeah. Made the cut.”
    “Really? Our very own league man. He stayin’ this side of the border?”
    Colin shrugged. He stood at the end of the booth, although there was an empty seat at the table. The old black coat he wore hung loosely on him, but the guys at the table had fresh new blue jean jackets and boots.
    A noticeable step up from the faded army fatigues they used to wear.
    “You know how it is,” Colin said. “Don’t really have much of a say.”
    “Guess not. Hope to hell it’s not Pittsburg, though.