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ROUGH DRAFT: A Nightmare Part 3 (FINAL)

From the front room Mike yells, “Let’s get moving before the boogeymen come out.”

I walk down the short hallway and see Mike grinning from ear to ear.  “Whatever,”  I say.  “I’m ready and for the record,”  I make eye contact with everyone, “I’m going, but in protest.  If anything goes wrong, it’s your guys’ fault.  Not mine.”

“Stop being dramatic.  Nothing’s going to happen.  When we were researching this vacation this location had no travel warnings.  Where safe,”  Mike says.

I unlock the door and with that Mike jumps up from the couch.  I open the door and the cool night breeze hits me, sending shivers down my spine.  With the door propped open, Mike scoots past me, but before he begins to descend the stairs he turns around and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“All joking aside, we’ll head to the next town, get the ladies what they want, and we’ll be back before you know it.”  After his comment Mike cracks a huge grin, “then we’ll get what we want.”  Mike winks, turns around, and shuffles down the stairs.

“Give me a break.”  I mull the idea about what Bitty might be willing to do for me tonight.  I too smile and shove the dread I’ve been feeling deep down.  I resolve to ignore my worries and press on with the game plan.

Mike unlocks the rental and opens the driver side door.  Instantly, the image of him driving us during my previous bout of terror re-imurges.  I freeze and apparently all the blood drained from my face because Mike notices something is wrong.  

“You look like you are about to puke,”  Mike says as he steps back out of the little hatch-back.  “Take some deep breaths.”

I follow his instructions and take a few deep breaths.  Four counts in and four counts out.  Four counts in and four counts out.  I feel the oxygen delivered to my brain as my balance returns to me.  

“I think I should drive.  If I let you drive, I’m bound to get motion sick,” I say as my composure returns.  I haven’t been motion sick since I was a kid going cross country sitting in the back of my mom’s station wagon.  Mike doesn’t know this, but if I can get behind the steering wheel then whatever has me spooked cannot happen.

I can see that Mike is thinking it over.  He reserved the rental and has never ever let anyone else drive.  “I didn’t list you as one of the drivers when I signed for the car Tony.”

“Hey man, either I drive or I’ll vomit all over your rental.  I understand If you want to spend the rest of the night cleaning up chunks of chips and salsa.”  This statement did the trick.  Mike tosses the keys to me and proceeds to the passenger seat.

I squeeze into the driver seat and fumble around with my hand as I try to find the controls to scoot the seat back.  “Do you have to be so short,” I jokingly say.

Before backing out of the parking spot, I unlock my cell phone, and open google maps.  The search for the nearest liquor store is easy.  Only one store is populated, and true to the local ship owner’s word, it’s in the next town which is only a twenty minute drive.  I turn the headlights on and get us on the road.

Other than the need for a few re-routes from the gps, due to roads under construction, we made it to our destination.  The village was small.  Probably a population of no more than five thousand residents.  All the buildings were run down, but had the hints of being in the works of modernization.  Some buildings had begun to be repainted and the new paint was colorful and vibrant.  

The liquor store, on the other hand, had seen way better days.  Like out of an eighties movie, where all windows had bars on the windows, this establishment would have fit right in.  The door creaked as we entered and a bell chimed when it was struck by the door.  All eight occupants peared at us inquisitively.

“I think they can tell that we are not from around here,”  Mike whispered.

Both Mike and I had stopped in our tracks, not sure how to act with all the attention we were receiving.  I could tell that the local residents did not get much tourist traffic.  Not as much as an, “hola,” was given to us.  However,  we got scowls aplenty.

As I looked from person to person, still trying to figure out what I should do, I saw something, or someone, dart in the periphery of my vision.  Was that an AK in that guy's hand?  I couldn’t tell because when I pivoted my head to look, the man was gone.

“Let’s just grabbed the first thing we see in the isle and go,”  I said.

Mike said nothing and I could tell that he did not disagree.  He must have seen where the alcohol was because he grabbed me by the elbow and led me directly to the spirits Isle.  I grabbed what looked to me to be the most expensive bottle of whiskey.  Pulling my elbow out of Mike’s death grip, I made a beeline for the cashier.

Foolishly, I said, “hablo english?” 

The cashier did not reply, but pointed to the price tag on the bottle and held out his hand with his palm up.  He was a man in his mid fifties.  He had facial hair growth that appeared to have been growing for a week.  Both his hair and beard were distinguished with gray and dark brown hair.  Heavier on the salt than the pepper.  He was overweight, with a substantial beer belly.  You couldn’t have cast a better actor to play the role of a liquor store clerk who clearly dislikes tourists.

“Mike, pay the man,” I say while giving the cashier the most thoughtful smile I could muster.

Mike pats himself down looking for his wallet.  “Ooops, I left in the car.  I’ll be right back.”  

Before he gets out of the door, Mike turns around, marches back to me and says, “can I have the keys?”  Without hesitation, I hand them over.

I would have thought that he had been in the military with that sharp about face he made before ducking out to find his wallet.  The seconds he was away seemed like an eternity as I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

For a moment I looked down at my feet not wanting to make eye contact.  However, when I heard the bell chime when Mike came back, I looked up and swore the cashier was mouthing instructions to someone.  I turned around to see who he was signaling.  Nobody, I saw nobody.  Never-the-less, I was beyond paranoid.

As Mike approached the counter the cashier placed his hand back out.  Mike slipped some money into the man’s hand and said, “keep the change.”  With that said, we both bolted for the door.  

I pushed on the door when I should have pulled, causing both Mike and I to slam into the door.

“It’s pull not push Tony!”

Both of us head for the driver side of the car.  I forgot that I handed to keys over to Mike.  Quickly, I realize my mistake and rush to the passenger door.  Before I get into the car, Mike has it started and in reverse.  No sooner had I lift my trail foot off the ground, Mike slammed his foot to the floor.

Something’s wrong.  Something is seriously wrong, I think over and over in my head.  I look to my left and I see Mike!  The exact memory I had from my nightmare.  I specifically made him let me drive so this didn’t happen.

“No, no, no, no, no….,” I repeat over and over.

Mike shoots a concerned look at me.  “Dude you look horrible.  It’s ok we’re in the care safe and sound.  In no time we’ll…”  

Before Mike is able to finish his sentence a small Toyota truck dashes in front of us and blocks the road.  Both of us immediately shout, “oh s@#$!”  There’s no ally for us to make a left or right turn into.

“Reverse!  Back up!”  I scream.

Mike is panicking and it shows.  His whole body is shaking as he fumbles, putting our small automatic car into reverse.  Finally, we start moving backwards.  Twenty five yards to go.  Twenty yards to go.  Fifteen yards to go, but before we reach the end of the block a second SUV blocks our escape.

I look back and forth between the two vehicles blocking us.  I know what is going to happen to us.  I saw it in my nightmare.  Hopelessness sets in.  We are going to die.  I watch one man step out of the truck and two men get out of the SUV.  The man to our front stops in front of our car and aims his AK at Mike through the windshield.  The two men from the SUV walk slowly towards the back of the car.  I can barely make out that one is carrying a rifle and the other a hand gun.

The guy with the rifle stops and takes up a position at the back of our car.  The second man from the SUV continues forward on my side of the car.  With the barrel of the pistol, he taps on the window.

I feel all the blood in my face leave and I suddenly become light headed.  Fear takes over.  My entire body is shaking.  I look up at the man standing just outside of my door.  Making eye contact, I press the button to roll down the window.  The gun goes to my head. 

DARKNESS

A Nightmare (complete short story)

ROUGH DRAFT: A Nightmare Part 2