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Feral

Adam Washington

    The Arizona heat engulfed Jason as he walked alongside the interstate, reflecting on his wife’s claim of rape and how someone in a dirty semi-truck ran him off the road, forcing him to leave his Sedan behind. He slicked back his dark hair and shielded his face with his hands before he surveyed the interstate with dark eyes. In the distance, a semi-truck crept up the interstate and Jason squinted his eyes for a better look.
    This might be him, thought Jason. If it is, then he’s finished.
    He pulled out his revolver from his suit pants’ waistband, opened up its barrel, and nodded.
    “Still loaded. That’s great to know,” he said as he closed it up and tucked it back in its original spot. He squinted his eyes again. The semi truck gained more speed than before.
    “This is it,” said Jason. He pulled out his revolver and placed it by his hip. The burgundy and blue semi-truck continued its journey toward him but it stopped as soon as he aimed the revolver at its dirty windshield. Then, he approached the driver’s side and aimed the gun at the window.
    “Get out now!”
    Jason climbed and swung open the door but a steel-toed boot met his chin, making him stumble back into the dirt. However, he rolled, landed on his feet, and fired a single bullet into the driver’s side window.
    “The next two bullets will go right in your head so test me!” Jason said. He wiped the blood from his nose and his mouth with his free hand while the other steadily aimed the gun at the truck driver’s shattered window.
    “Alright, Jesus, man!” replied the truck driver. “I’m coming out. Just don’t shoot me!”
    The driver’s door slowly opened and a flustered faced yet solidly built man with ginger hair and emerald eyes, dressed in a navy button down shirt and charcoal suit pants, hopped out with his hands raised.
    “I don’t know what this is about, man, but let’s just—“
    Jason smashed his revolver into his nose and kicked him into the semi-truck. Then, he approached him and pressed the barrel against his temple.
    “P-please, man! Don’t kill me!” said the truck driver as he held his nose with both of his hands. “Whatever I did, I didn’t mean to—“
    “Shut up,” replied Jason as he pressed the barrel harder against the truck driver’s temple. “You’re going to tell me that you ‘didn’t mean to rape’ my wife and leave her for dead on the side of the road?”
    “Please, man, I didn’t—“
    Jason pistol whipped him across his jaw and replied, “Shut the hell up and listen, alright?”
    The truck driver raised his hands and nodded.
    “Good,” Jason said. “You’re going to suffer for what you did to both me and my wife. A shame, really, because you dress nice for a truck driver.” He pressed the gun’s barrel against the truck driver’s crotch and cocked the hammer.
    “Wait, don’t shoot me, man,” the truck driver replied. “You can have your vengeance but don’t shoot me there, please.”
    Jason surveyed the other end of the interstate. No cops in sight but a hospital blurred in the horizon. Then, his attention went back to the truck driver’s crotch.
    “Sorry but you can explain to the cops how your rapist balls went missing.”
    The truck driver kicked him away and got up. Then, he reached inside of the truck and revealed a sawed off shotgun. But Jason rolled and pulled the trigger twice. Two bullets tore through the truck driver’s kneecaps and he fell to the ground. He screamed and reached for the sawed off shotgun but Jason kicked it away from him.
    “Well, that’s a shame,” said Jason as he pressed his gun’s barrel against the back of the truck driver’s skull. “A missed opportunity, I guess.”
    However, Jason tucked the gun away, and unveiled a black combat knife from his pant leg. He turned the truck driver over onto his back and pressed the knife against his throat.
    “Why make it easy for you, you know?”
    “Please, no!”
    Jason ignored his plea and stabbed him in his crotch. Then, he twisted the knife clockwise and ignored the deafening scream from the truck driver’s mouth. But once he fainted, Jason pulled out the knife, stabbed him in his crotch again, and pulled it out.
    “You’ll never rape anyone else again,” said Jason. He stepped back from the truck driver and tossed the knife away. Tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his blood-spattered cheeks. Then, he sat down in the dirt, next to the truck driver, and wept until he stopped.
    “I didn’t know how any of this would play out,” Jason said. He wiped his eyes, cleared his throat, and said, “At one point, I wanted to die for what you did to her. But something broke in me and it told me to make you pay for what you did to her.”
    The truck driver stirred awake and tears welled up in his eyes but Jason ignored them.
    “You don’t get to beg for mercy,” replied Jason. “You don’t deserve it from me.”
    “P-please, man. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt her...”
    “Your sorry means nothing to me. You’ve destroyed my wife. Nothing you say will ever make it right.”
    Jason stood up, approached the knife, and picked it up. His eyes met the truck driver’s as he approached him. Then, he mounted him and held the knife over his head.
    “It’s finished. Don’t resist. Just accept.”
    Jason stabbed the back of the truck driver’s neck. He pulled out the knife and, again, stabbed him in the same spot. He stabbed him a final time, got up, and stepped back until he fell on his knees and wept.
    Then, he screamed until his voice left him.

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