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

Can’t stand ’em.”
    Judd gave Colin a little glare, and he knew it was time to walk away. Colin wandered back into his world of oblivion.
    He’d heard more than enough anyway.
    The sound of the bells on the door ringing out and the latch clacking shut behind him blurred into the dead-quiet street waiting for him outside. Colin pulled out his bank card as he walked to the ATM, which soon told him he had insufficient funds to withdraw.
    He grabbed the slip: $9.47 left in his account.
    “Figures …” he muttered.
    He tossed the newspaper into the recycling bin. He didn’t need it anymore.
    He’d known for a while it would take more than classified ads to get him out of this town.
    There’d been one chance for him to get out and get an education. Three days shy of graduating, the government dropped the hammer. Cuts everywhere. No chance to get hired on in a field that was facing layoffs. No choice but to come home and wish he were anywhere else.
    He’d tried to run, but this curse had reached out and snared him, and dragged him back.
    At least, that’s how it happened in his dreams. No, not dreams.
    Night terrors.
    Bloody town, full of hillbillies, wannabes, and has-beens. And they thought he was a loser because he’d left and been forced back. Because he couldn’t even cut it there. Been cut back to a casual hire at the Co-op, of all places.
    Colin straightened up a little as he stuck his hands in his pockets. He’d known for a while he’d have to create his own fate if he were going to escape.
    It was time.
    He started the long walk to the cemetery.

    “Colin? Is that you? Colin? Are you deaf?” With that, Mother started marching toward the hallway, hands on her hips.
    Colin could see her in the mirror, which was curiously placed in a corner, and let someone at the doorway see into the far hall, or someone in the hall by the bedrooms see to the doorway.
    Couldn’t complain. He always had fair warning when she was coming.
    As he pulled his boots off, Colin looked up. “Who else would it be?”
    “Really. Get those boots back outside. They’re covered in mud. What have you been doing, wandering around in the rain?” She wagged a finger at him. “Have you found a job?”
    He ran his hands through his soggy hair and sighed. “Not yet, Mom. I went to the cemetery. It wasn’t raining when I left.”
    She stopped cold as he walked past her, into the living room.
    “I’m sorry. I … I forgot what day it was. I should have given you the car.”
    “No, Mom, you needed it for work. It’s OK. I like walking.”
    She stared at him for a minute, but didn’t say more. There was a sterile dinginess to his mother, and the house she kept. It was like all the color was slowly being sucked out of everything. Faded paint, faded wallpaper.
    Like the décor around her, Mother had faded with time. Her once blonde hair was turning gray, and her rosy cheeks were a memory, replaced now by a shade that wouldn’t even match pale salmon.
    She stared at him, and for a second he thought she was going to try to say something, but then she walked back to the kitchen. “Wash up and come to the table.”
    He did as he was told.

    Bright beams of sunlight pushed their way into his black sleep and he groaned. 7:30. That’s what the clock said. Colin jumped with a start. He never slept that late. Some nights, when his dreams were bad, he barely slept at all.
    It hadn’t been that way in the city, when he’d been at college.
    “What’s wrong with me? Sleeping in, today of all days?” He stopped. He’d been up late, using the table after Mother went to bed. He’d be up late tonight. After all, today was the big day.
    The grand finale …
    Maybe sleeping in wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
    He pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt, swore under his breath as he banged his head on the low frame of the door, and then wandered down the hall.
    There were noises from the kitchen. Running water. Clunking dishes.
    “Weren’t you