Wednesday, November 24, 2021

Complete the Story: 20 of 198

 The desert is an unforgiving place.  This one is called Death Valley for a reason.  Every living thing there has to fight for survival. And we would have to fight, too, or else we would be consumed by a sidewinder, bobcat, or one of the other predators who made their home the heat. Oddly enough as we had never experienced a hot of greater degree and we ached from pain of thirst, it was the night that concerned me. We had been held at gun point, hands tied behind our backs, blindfolded, gagged and forced to get into a limousine. Positioned up against the window, I heard the instructions given to our executor.  

"Drive them out into the desert. Pop them out there. Make it quick. I'm hungry. Louie's closes at 11." 

I don't think the others heard it. I barely did and I was right up against the door. In fact, I know they didn't hear it. They couldn't have. Even though I couldn't see, I could still hear. I could still sense. While I felt a state of confusion and uncertainty from them, I didn't feel a state of panic. If they had heard what I had, I would have. 

I thought of two things as we drove out to the desert. I thought of time. If he had to be back before 11, this essentially gave him an hour to get to where he was going, off us and then get back. In high pressure situations its easy to fooled by time.  Minutes can turn into hours and hours can turn into minutes. Yet it was about 10 to 8 when they all showed up on the property. I suppose it was around 8:30 or so when we were forced hands behind our back, gagged and blindfolded into the limo. If he got his work done by 9:30, he'd be back by 10:30. Perhaps I was giving him too much credit.  Punctual as I am, I refuse to go into a restaurant with anything less than a half hour left before they close. Not sure why I thought this man who had been told to kill us was suddenly going to have the decency.  Why it struck me as peculiar that he'd shoot four people in the back of the head, two of them minors and yet feel it was inappropriate to show up at a restaurant expecting food and service shortly before they closed. 

The other thought was of anger, but it wasn't at him. It wasn't even at the other man who had told him to kill us. It wasn't because I had no idea who these people were, or why they were doing this to us. It wasn't because I'm 25 and I thought of all the life I'd miss. It was because of Louie's.  If the other man had not mentioned Louie's, I'm not even sure if I would have felt anger.   

Louie's is the most expensive restaurant in our area. No one I know has ever ate there. I've never ate there. It's a somebody restaurant. You could save up for a while and afford one of their dishes, but that wasn't good enough for him. You had to prove that you could afford to eat their any time you wanted.  They looked at your car, your clothes and if you weren't up to their standards, you weren't getting in.  You had to be important. You had to be worthy.  Apparently this guy who within a short amount of time was going to off us and the sociopath who nonchalantly ordered our execution, they were good enough.  We weren't.  I wasn't. But, they were.  Of all the things that now faced me, my death, my cousin and her two kids deaths, not knowing why this was happening, of all things, thinking of Louie's is what pissed me off most. 

The limousine came to stop as he put it into park. He left the engine running.  I had been so preoccupied by my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed it until then, but he had the radio on.  Brian's Song by Anne Murray was on the radio.  

"Even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with you honey."  It was almost comical hearing him sing along. Even more comical that he waited for the song to end before opened up the door and got out. 

Few words were spoken as he opened up the back door and ordered us out of the car.  We walked for abut a minute or so, maybe two when he told us to get down on our knees.  I began to regret not putting up a fight at my Uncle's house.  The four of us had been so cooperative doing exactly what these people had asked us to do.  I figured that was our best course of action. I was wrong. Now all I could do was hope that I'd be the first to be shot.  

BANG! 

The gun shot was so loud and deafening that I did not hear the body hit the ground. All I knew was that I had not been first.  I knew I wouldn't be the second either. I wasn't going to be the third. I was going to be the last. 

Five seconds at most is all the time their could have been between gun shots.  Each felt like a decade but all in all the entire experience took a quarter of a minute.  Three bangs.  It was now my turn. 

BANG! 

I was still conscious. I could feel my body shake. I could feel myself breathing.  Was this what it was like to be dead? Was I now a spirit? I felt no pain.  I didn't feel my body against the desert sand.  I could still feel my knees hard against the ground. 

"Listen," The man said to me. "After I cut you lose I'm going to put the knife behind you.  If you go to turn around or remove your blindfold before I drive away, I'll shoot you twice in each foot." 

I nodded. 

"Good," He said. "Listen for the car to drive away.  Count to 100 and then you can remove your blindfold and gag." 

I did as the man instructed.  

The light from the hot sun burned my eyes as I removed my blind fold. It took a minute for the blur to clear as I looked over to my left and saw my cousin and her two kids.  They were alive. Unharmed and alive.  I cut them loose.   

"Why didn't he kill us?" My cousin asked. 

"I don't know." 

All four of us had the same questions and all four of us had the same answers.  All we knew now is that we were out in the hot desert and we had to make it back to civilization.   Night was going to be falling soon and this time a year the temperature could get down into the 40's.  A temp the human body might not survive.  

We were far enough away I knew however far we had to go, we weren't making it before the sun went down.  We'd have to spend the night.  Maybe that's what the man who drove us out here to kill us was planning on.  Figured why waste four perfectly good bullets if mother nature could do the job herself? 

We walked in the direction of the trail the limousine had made.  Walked until we were out of energy. Then we gathered in a small circle. Back to back, resting up against one another.  I feel asleep with my eyes open.