�Come here honey. Your old Uncle Barry wants to show you something.�
The words swirled in Carrie�s head eventually taking her Uncle Barry�s form. His leering eyes reached out for her, refusing to release their hold on her mind and relentlessly entwining themselves in her memories.
He made her sick, two hundred and forty pounds of sick. And that�s what made it so hard to kill him. She didn�t have a gun and knives were never an option. She eventually had decided on the hammer but she didn�t know it would take so many hits to finally cave his skull in.
A minor detail though. He had pushed her too far. The years of sexual abuse, stealing her money and finally Jason�s disappearance, which she knew very well he had something to do with. He was an evil man and evil men deserved death.
When her parents died she had been shipped off to live with her only living relative�her Uncle Barry in Wordsmuth. She was only ten at the time, although somewhat mature for her age, and always had felt that she had adapted rather well for what she had been through. Hard times make hard people was a saying that she lived by. But dealing with a large horny Uncle who she was forced to live with was beyond her capability to cope.
Her life changed for the better when she met Jason. He asked her out the moment he noticed her. She was standing at the counter of the drug store to buy some potato chips, Uncle Barry�s favorite, when he walked up behind her and asked her her name. From that moment on she captivated him.
She was able to confide in him her grief for her parents which she had managed to bury so far down that she thought they were lost forever. But he understood. He listened to her with an open heart and sympathetic ears.
She felt herself falling in love with him but still kept a small part of her heart hidden away. Jason sensed this and did his best to get her to release that part but never quite was able to.
She feared for him though. Her Uncle Barry had made her bend over, both figuratively and literally, to please himself and she knew he was growing jealous of Jason. She was scared that he would do something to break them up. She pushed the relationship along hoping it would be a means to escape her uncle and although guilt claimed its fair share of her heart she tempered it with her growing love of Jason.
But her worst fears were realized on a brisk spring day. Jason was gone. No note, no phone call, no goodbye. Nothing. His mother called the police but no trace of him was ever found. Carrie immediately suspected her Uncle Barry. The police however could not link him to anything and with no body they lightened their investigation considerably.
�These punks nowadays don�t want any commitment,� he would babble while opening another beer. �Besides,� he would say with a smirk. �I have a feeling that he�s probably out with some other broad by now�maybe Marilyn Monroe.�
Carrie felt her anger building. She began plotting of the best way to kill him. The hammer was always in the basement with the other tools so access was not a problem and he didn�t work so she could really do it at her leisure.
Three blows to the back of the head did the trick. It was messier than she had anticipated but she was able to clean it up. It would be days before anyone knew what had happened and by then she would be long gone.
The road stretched on for miles. Trees lined the pavement on each side refusing to reveal what lay beyond them. Overhead, patches of bright blue sky slipped through the thick blanket of clouds and a gentle but steady breeze created a soft chorus of nature.
Carrie could see no end in sight. Her backpack was growing heavy and her feet were becoming sore but she knew she could not stop moving. Where she was heading she didn�t know but she did know she couldn�t stay in Wordsmuth. The police would find out about Uncle Barry sooner or later and everything would point to her. She had motive and opportunity. It wouldn�t take a rocket scientist to figure out who had done it.
So here she was hitchhiking on the road to nowhere with the wind on her thumb. She wondered if the tight blue jeans and short yellow tank top were too provocative. It would help her get a ride but might also get her something else, something she didn�t want.
Then she noticed the sign in the distance. The thin slice of aluminum beckoned her closer with its promise of information. She found herself sprinting towards it despite the protest from her feet.
EIGHT MILES
What a strange sign she thought, and eight miles! She could never make it on foot; she had to catch a ride. And then she noticed the smoke. Light funnels of grayish white mist slowly rising upwards from beyond a distant ridge. She began to reluctantly walk towards it without fully realizing it.
Was there a fire? What if the entire city was in chaos with criminals running free to murder and rape? Did she really want to go there? But on the other hand what choice did she have?
The hum of a car grew steadily in volume as it came closer and closer. She felt relieved that one was coming but found herself apprehensive regardless.
And then it was on her. Mere inches separated her from the bright red Porsche as it skidded sideways to avoid hitting her.
�I�m sorry, are you all right?� the driver asked.
Carrie felt weak in her knees. He was gorgeous. Early twenties with thick black hair that slightly hung over his piercing brown eyes and perfect teeth which were the foundation for a million dollar smile.
�Miss are you okay?� he asked again with a puzzled look.
�Oh I�m fine,� she stammered realizing she sounded like a schoolgirl. �Do you know where that smoke is coming from?�
Ignoring the question, the young man stepped out of his car and introduced himself. �My name�s Luke.� He held out a strong, manicured hand. A businessman�s hand. A hand that said success along with the Porsche and his good looks.
�I�m Carrie,� she reciprocated in her most feminine tone.
�Do you need a ride?�
�Well, actually I could use a lift. Are you going my way?�
He threw his head back and laughed. �Sure, I�ll take you where you have to go.�
In the car Carrie remembered the smoke. She decided to ask about it again.
�Luke, do you know where that smoke�s coming from? Is it from the city?�
He was tapping his hands on the steering wheel to an old Beach Boys song. �Oh, that�s from the factories. My family owns most of them.� He switched off the radio and continued. �We manufacture everything from cosmetics to concrete. My Great Grandfather started the business back in the nineteenth century.�
Carrie couldn�t believe her luck. This guy was really loaded. The Porsche was probably only one of his cars. She felt herself starting to fall for him.
The sign was fast approaching.
THREE MILES
�Do you live there?� she asked just trying to keep the conversation going.
�I have a summer home there,� he responded. He appeared preoccupied to her somehow. His mind didn�t seem to be on her or even the road but roaming on some distant land far away from the troubles of everyday life.
�Luke? Are you okay?� she asked while searching his hand for a wedding band.
He suddenly came back to Earth. �I�m fine, just thinking about business. You understand.�
She nodded and resumed her dreams of enormous homes with maids and butlers.
But then something interrupted her thoughts�a body on the side of the road. It was a small woman in the drainage ditch who obviously was dead. She caught a glimpse of her as they drove by. Apparently Luke had not seen it or he surely would have stopped.
She decided not to say anything. It wasn�t her problem. Some stupid girl in a yellow shirt and jeans who didn�t watch where she was going. The hell with her. She had a good thing going and wasn�t going to complicate things with a corpse. She
continued the conversation. �So, how did you get involved with the family business?�
Luke ignored the question as he gripped the steering wheel firmly. His eyes narrowed with grim determination and his mouth thinned tightly. Carrie could actually see his knuckles turn white.
�Luke, is there something wrong?�
The needle on the speedometer was rapidly moving across the numbers. It passed the 90 mark and immediately began heading towards the 100 raising the fear in Carrie with each movement.
�Can you slow down please,� she blurted out.
Luke continued to ignore her. He fixed his gaze on the road hardly acknowledging that he had a passenger. The speedometer needle smoothly moved past the 100 mark and began its advance to 110.
�Luke! What the hell are you doing! Slow down please.�
Luke let a crooked smile escape. �I�m sorry,� he croaked in a much deeper tone. �I did not answer your question.� He pointed with a large taloned hand to an oncoming sign in the distance. �You lost your last chance at redemption when we passed the body. Now your ours�forever.� He turned to look at her with elliptical eyes reflecting hatred and despair.
She felt a scream rising in her throat but knew it would do no good when the seatbelts began to wrap themselves around her waist. She realized who the person in
the ditch was, the yellow shirt and jeans were a dead giveaway. If only she would have realized it sooner.
�Oh my God,� she moaned just before the seatbelt thrust down her throat.
�Yes,� Luke said calmly. �Your God�but not mine.�
The sign went by quickly but Carrie was still able to read it before she blacked out.
�ABANDON ALL HOPE YE WHO ENTER HERE�
