Grueberfest 06 - R4 - A Road To Nowhere (693 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: one-part_stories
Rating: 1.94 on 12 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Stagger Lee (View user info) at 2006-10-25 06:03:42 EDT
It was shortly after midnight that Gripaldi finally admitted that he was lost. He didn't recognise any of the road, and he'd driven this run a good dozen times in the last two months. The trees were thickening up, and that was a bad sign; he should've been clearing the forest by this time, and instead he was getting deeper into it. The straight patches were getting shorter, the turns more frequent. It was becoming harder to see the around the bends, too.
Moonlight shone on the path in more and more sporadic patches, only where it was able to pierce the increasingly thick canopy above. The truck's headlights seemed pitifully weak, cutting the gloom with a feverish, dim yellow glow.
Banging noises came from behind him; the people crammed into the back of his truck were getting restless. Gripaldi mostly dealt in Asians. It was a simple business; no hassles for the most part. Occasionally the supply would dry up, or the contact at the other end refused delivery, either because the merchandise was poor or because of lack of demand. But far more often than not, it was profitable, comfortable work.
He wondered where he'd gone wrong, and he unconsciously scratched at his gut. Maybe he'd swung off the route while contemplating the burger he was going to score at the drop-off, or perhaps he was trying to calculate the price of a decent hooker in town. No matter, not to worry, soon as a side-road presented itself, he'd swing the rig around and head on back. He might be half an hour late, but the drop wouldn't refuse delivery because of that. Better late than never, right?
No side road presented itself, and the road progressively became narrower; and Gripaldi started to really fret. The road was far too narrow to turn the truck around, and on top of the banging, his merchandise had started to chatter on in that sing-song tongue of theirs, and it was really beginning to grate on his nerves. He thought he heard some laughter from back there as well, and for some reason it really upset him. What right had they to be laughing? Their situation was worse that his, no matter how lost he was. Besides, they couldn't know the truck was heading down the wrong path.
Gripaldi sped up a little. He'd have to drive this road til he could turn off; no question there. So he might as well get it over and done with. At this rate, he wasn't just going to be half an hour late. He began to run some excuses through his head to give the drop guy.
He turned a corner, and something darted across the road in front of him, something large, cloaked in shadow. The headlights didn't quite reveal what it was. Gripaldi cursed and slammed his foot down on the brake. He was already on edge, but now he was completely rattled. The brakes locked, and Gripaldi swerved. Another one of the shadows broke from the trees and Gripaldi again wrenched at the wheel, losing control completely. The truck skidded off the road and was stopped dead when it rammed into a tree. Gripaldi's head bounced off the steering wheel and he blacked out.
He didn't know how long he was unconscious. He lifted his head from the wheel, and felt sticky warmth on his face. He raised a hand gingerly to his forehead, and felt an open wound. His hand recoiled from his face, fingers stained red.
Gripaldi looked around at the damage. Smoke was rising from the engine block. One of the headlights seemed to be broken, the other still producing that somehow depressing yellow light.
Gradually, he became aware that the light was reflecting back at him from dozens of tiny, scattered points. He stared at them, and the realisation dawned upon him that he was surrounded.
It was the Asians from the truck. Some of them seemed to have sustained injuries of their own. Some of them seemed to be missing; he estimated, in his racing, terrified mind, that there were only about two-thirds of the original load present. Either they had fled, or the back of his truck had become host to several corpses.
They advanced on the truck. Gripaldi told himself to lock the door. His hand wouldn't move. He sat there, staring at the door, until it was wrenched open. Hands seized his leg, pulling at him.
"Look!" Gripaldi shrieked. "Hey! You were gonna have better lives! I swear!"
A hand fumbled for his seatbelt. It was unfastened. Gripaldi seized hold of the dashboard. His gaze flicked wildly around, searching for some method of release. There was none to be found.
"I'm not the bad guy! I was helping!"
His half-truths fell on deaf ears. He looked around their faces, seeing only impassive, implacable stares. Teeth sank into his leg, deep, and he screamed. His fingers tightened on the dashboard, until one of the reached up and began pounding on his hand with small, hard fists.
He was yanked from the truck and dumped into the dusty road.
He was granted no mercy.
User Reviews
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-10-26 23:25:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Personally, I think this story fucking sucks, so that's cool, Saccy. But it's all I had and I had stuff to do that night.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-10-26 23:18:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-10-26 23:18:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I never thought I'd be doing this to you in a comp, Stag, but I am going to break your streak here.
This was a good piece. But I'm judging it on both what I know is your potential, and also, how accurately I think it adheres to the GFest theme.
I was pretty excited about those Asians..but just when it got good and the opportunity for some great gruesome description presented itself, it was over. I kind of sense that you may have phoned this one in. As a post, +2. As a comp entry, I thought it fell a bit short, though.
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2006-10-26 23:05:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-10-26 22:43:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yet another reason why more Asians should come to Uber - they're featured in the occasional kickass bit of fiction.
SEE HERE, ASIAN FOLK! COME AND STAY A WHILE@
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-10-25 20:42:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Oh, Joe, you fuck up. No more ten dollah make you hollah.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-10-25 19:22:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks guys.
Jeez, this really didn't sell very fast, did it?
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2006-10-25 16:57:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2006-10-25 09:56:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You definitely have a talent for this style of writing.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-10-25 08:59:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well done.
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-10-25 07:00:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I really do like your writing.
Submitted by locksly (user info) at 2006-10-25 06:06:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment