Short Story Contest

 Around October, I saw a post looking for entries for a short story contest.  I decided to try and see what I could come up with.  It seemed good to me.  Of course, I wrote it.  I entered the contest.  They said it would take time for them to go through.  It's been a couple of weeks.  I have decided to add it here.  See what you think.  

Stuck

By Sean Fahey

 

Jimmy’s eyes snapped open, his heart thudding as he sat up. He squinted at the sliding glass door in his room. Pale morning light spilled across the floor, painting the carpet in streaks of gold. The curtain was wide open, fluttering slightly in a breeze that carried the faint scent of cut grass and dew. He remembered closing it before bed.

The air felt cool against his skin, but a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. Outside, the world was quiet except for the distant chirping of birds. He could see his whole backyard. The patchy lawn, branches fluttering in the wind, and the wooden gate at the back, its hinges rusted and squealing as it opened.

A dirty-looking man with a machete stepped into the yard. His boots crunched on gravel, and the blade glinted in the moonlight. Jimmy tried to get out of bed, but his body was frozen. His mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out. The man’s footsteps thudded on the wooden stairs, each one echoing up to Jimmy’s room. He looked to the side but could not move his head. 

A bead of sweat dripped from Jimmy’s forehead, stinging his eyes. He lay back down, pulling the blanket over his head. The fabric had a faint scent of laundry soap and sweat. He waited, listening, his ears straining for any sound. Silence pressed in, thick and heavy. After a couple of minutes, he peeled the sheet down. He blinked, and the room was dark again. The curtains were closed, just like he had left them.

“Got to stop watching horror movies!” he whispered, voice shaky.

When morning arrived, he got up and prepared for a nice summer day.  His mom had already gone to work. 

In the kitchen, he found the newspaper and turned to the movie section.  Many movies jumped out, but he decided on Space Raiders.  Looking at the time, he decided he needed to get ready.  The theater was a couple of miles from his house.  His bike would get him there.   Even if he is early, he knows he could stop by Showbiz Pizza and play games or grab a burger at McDonald's.   Before he left, he called his mom.

“Hey, I’m going to see a movie,” said Jimmy. 

“What are you going to see?  It’s not going to give you nightmares, is it,” she asked.

“No. It’s a comedy slash sci-fi movie, like Star Wars, but funnier,” he said.

“Clean your room before you go, or no more movies!”. She exclaimed.

“Can’t I do it after?” he mumbled.

“No, because you won’t do it.  I’m not asking for much,” she said.  “You need to help me.  It’s just you and me.”

He hung up the phone and ran into his room.  He grabbed clothes from the floor and threw them into a clothes hamper.  He kicked toys under his bed and tossed the remaining in the closet.  He gave it a once-over with a vacuum and thought he did a good job that would appease his mother. 

Walking out of the house, he locked the door and got his bike.  Although he was 10, Jimmy did not have a babysitter. It was the eighties, and he was used to coming and going as he pleased.  That is why they could not keep a babysitter.  The final straw was when he ran off to find his father, and the babysitter freaked out. He even hid in nearby bushes as she frantically looked for him.  When she found him, she let him have it and told him to stay until his mother came to pick him up.    A shiver ran up his spine.

He thought, “I’m too old for a babysitter”.

He rode his bike all over town and was familiar with most roads.  If he needed a shortcut, he would take it.  Today, he decided to stick to the back roads.  There were fewer houses and even less traffic.  The roadway ran towards an area characterized by scrub vegetation, rolling hills, and unpaved terrain.   Locals like to use the area to drive their trucks.  Just on the other side of this area was the start of the shopping areas. 

The sun was slanting in the sky as it approached its apex.  The day was warm but dry, as only California can be.  Up ahead, he could see the heat rising from the pavement as a shimmering mirage.  A boom snapped his attention forward.  A van was approaching.  Jimmy did not think much of it.

As the van passed, Jimmy felt a shiver down his spine.  He did not know why.  It brought him back to his nightmare.  He laughed awkwardly and shrugged it off.

His heart was thudding in his ears. The road sloped upward, putting pressure on his legs. He could not even see over the hill.

Whoosh! 

The van flew by in the opposite direction.  This time, like a bat on fire!

“Jerk”, muttered Jimmy through his sweaty lips. 

He glanced up the hill. The promise of a smooth descent waited on the other side. His legs burned.  He did not know if he would make it.  He may have to walk it up the rest of the way.  But somehow, he made it.  He looked back triumphantly over the hill he had conquered. 

When he looked down the hill, he saw the van in the middle of the road.  Its hazard lights were blinking, and the side doors were open. 

“Great,” he muttered. 

He would have to ride on the passenger side of the van.  If he passed on the driver's side of the van, an oncoming car would leave him with nowhere to go.

His first thought went back to a movie he saw earlier that year.  The movie was Without a Trace. The film centers on a boy abducted by an unidentified attacker and his family's search to find him.

Absently, his hand touched his back pocket and shut down any fear he was having.    

“Where was he?” he thought.

He pedaled by the van. He did not look for the man.  He did not want to see someone pooping. A glint of light in the van caught his attention. Before he could look back, everything went dark.

When he regained consciousness, he was in the van. He tried to move his arms and legs and discovered that someone had tied him up. His mouth was bound with a gag.  He tried to scream out.  He wiggled and kicked his legs towards the door.  The man grabbed a thin bamboo pole and whipped Jimmy.  It hit his face and stung him into silence. 

It was the first time he saw the man.  He was clean cut, wearing a black hat.  He was nothing like the villains in movies.  He looked more like his English teacher, but he had a look in his eyes that scared Jimmy. 

The man picked up a gun from the passenger seat and showed it to Jimmy. 

“Unless you want to end it now, you might want to keep quiet,” turning up the radio to drown out any noises.

A red mark appeared on Jimmy’s face.   He took a deep breath. His heart was beating, but he knew he had to calm down. He closed his eyes. 

 He was transported to the forest with his dad.  He was looking at a buck through the sights of a gun. 

“Take a deep breath and let it out,” said his dad.

Jimmy pulled the trigger, and the animal fell over.  They got up and approached the animal.  He was still alive. 

” When showing mercy to your prey, a dull knife would prolong the animal's suffering,” he told him.  

Jimmy took out his knife and approached the animal.   Jimmy looked into its eye. 

His father guided his hand towards the animal’s neck. 

“You need to cut its artery.”

He did the deed quickly.  The animal went still. 

Opening his eyes, he knew what he had to do.  He had to get these binds off of him. 

He sawed at the rope. Each cut sounded like a chainsaw cutting a log. His hand shook, but he tried to control his fear. The man continued to sing old tunes on the radio. He would only look up when the van slowed to a stop. Jimmy guessed he was stopping at lights or stop signs. It was an easy pattern for him to remember. Just like sneaking up on his prey.  Another strand came loose.  He did not know how much more he had to cut. He felt time moving slowly by. Then, the ropes' tightness went slack.

Hands done, he reached down for his legs. He looked around to see how he was going to get out of this situation. The side doors were missing handles.

The van stopped. The man looked in the mirror.  Jimmy was still in the same position.  Nothing looked out of place. His attention went back to singing and the road.  A song started, and the man turned it up.

Jimmy did not know the song. His father would play music like this during those weekend visits.  Something about being stuck in the middle. The man sang as loud as he could.  Jimmy was fine with that.  It hid any noises he would make. He knew his time was limited.   With a stop approaching, he had to get into place.

He crouched and crept toward the man. The man was moving his head as he sang.  He had no care in the world. Jimmy was fine with that.  Better for him to be into his song than seeing him sneaking up. He did not want to make any sudden movements that would break his concentration.

The van slowed. Jimmy was right behind the man.  He focused on the man’s neck. He could see the beating of the vein.  With the van stopped at a streetlight, the man looked up. The boy was not there. Then, a sudden movement, and all he could see was a light shining off the blade of the knife as it plunged into his neck. His hands grabbed the boy's arms. His foot came off the brake.  The van started to roll.

Jimmy pulled back. The man could not grasp Jimmy’s arms.  The blood was making everything slippery. Horns started to blare. The man covered the cut, trying to stem the flow of his blood.  Jimmy stood staring.

Suddenly, Jimmy was slammed against the van's side and then thrown to the opposite side as it swerved out of control. He fell into the side door in the well area. His head buzzed. He sat staring at the ceiling, mesmerized by the blood.

A knock on the side door brought Jimmy back to reality. He did not know where it came from.  Then, the door slid open. A woman looked at the blood-drenched boy and the blood dripping down. She screams. 

A man comes over and looks.

“It looks like a Jackson Pollock painting!” 

Jimmy looked at the man, not understanding the comment. 

“Hey, kid, are you okay? Do you have an injury? What happened?” asked the man.

“I had to do it.  It was going to be him or me,” barely audible. He looked around to see that they were in the middle of the intersection.

=The police arrived and secured the scene. They checked on the driver and found he was dead. 

“Son, what happened?” asked the police officer.

Jimmy told him what he could remember.

“You are lucky to be alive!” said the officer.

A paramedic put a blanket around Jimmy. He rubbed his back. 

He clung to the scratchy fabric, staring at the flashing lights. He wondered if his mom would be angry or just scared. For the first time, he wished he’d had a babysitter.

“Is he going to be okay?” asked the police officer. 

“Yes, he’s in shock, but I’m sure he'll be fine after some therapy,” replied the paramedic.