The Hand That Feeds: A Horror Novel (9 page)

10

Victorville was far enough away that John figured he might as well be traveling to the moon. He felt lucky that the highway was clear. Nearly every day an accident was reported on the local news, which backed up traffic for miles. John didn’t like the long drive. It gave him too much time to think about what he was doing. Part of him wanted to do as Angela had instructed, but there was another part; hidden deep in the back of his mind that wanted to drive right past the Victorville exit and not look back.

Out of the corner of his
eye, he could see the small bag on the floorboard of the truck. The metal head of the hammer reflected the sunlight from the passenger side window. John felt it calling to him, begging for him to look at it. He didn’t want to look. He knew what it was for and for the moment, he didn’t want to decide if he’d be able to use it when the time came.

He turned on the radio and raised the volume as loud as it would go. The music blared from the crappy factory speakers
, but the bass pounded against him like a tidal wave. The music was enough to distract him for the moment, although the constant wall of noise was painful to his ears. John kept the music up until he could see the sign he was looking for, Victorville 5 miles
.
He counted off the distance, watching his mileage, and then took the off ramp heading north.

It wasn’t long bef
ore he found himself in traffic. The street opened up to rows of shops, stores, and houses. The sidewalks were filled with people all going about their morning routines. John found a parking spot in front of a donut shop and killed the engine. He headed in and ordered a regular glazed doughnut and a cup of coffee. He paid for his order then headed back outside and stood near the truck, placing his cup of coffee and doughnut on the hood. He unwrapped his breakfast and looked up one side of the street and down the other, noting two bars, one at either end of the main street.

T
he bar further up the street in the direction he’d rode in town had its door open. John finished his doughnut and sipped on the coffee. He watched the bar for twenty minutes, but never saw anyone come in or out. He tossed his coffee in the trash near the edge of the sidewalk and got back in the truck.

He
nervously tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he ran through possible scenarios. He imagined he would need to keep the truck close to the front door of the bar, but also out of sight. There was no way for him to predict how he would get someone in the truck, but if his charm didn’t work, he knew he couldn’t show up at home empty-handed. More determined, he started the truck, backed out onto the main street and headed toward the bar.

The traffic had cleared
which allowed him to creep along. He passed the entrance to the bar and saw a small dirt area on the side of the building between it and the next store. There was another truck parked in the furthest corner of the dirt lot, but there was plenty of room. John pulled in and parked his truck mid-way between the road and the other vehicle, turned off the engine, and waited. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror and did his best to fix his hair. He even flashed a quick smile before pulling on the door handle and hopping out.

He could hear music before he turned the corner and
located the bar’s entrance. The sign above the door read, Johnny’s Place, and John thought it was appropriate. He stepped through a thick darkness cloaking the entry way and it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. A cloud of smoke festered permanently along the ceiling. A large table close to the bathroom door at the rear of the bar held the culprits. Two men sat at the table huddled over tall glasses of beer, lines of smoke rose from an ashtray so filled with cigarette butts that it appeared impossible to fit another one in.

John counted a total of eight patrons
, not including the bartender. It was a small number, but high for so early in the day. The giant man behind the bar smiled at John from under a poorly trimmed mustache that hid his upper lip. His sleeveless shirt and assortment of jailhouse tattoos spoke volumes about his background.

“What’ll you have?” he asked in a barking, smokers tone.

“Draft,” John said, pointing at the only arms on the beer dispenser. “And give me two shots of whiskey.”

The
bartender smiled at the order. Apparently, he liked the type of guy who was willing to get wasted before noon. He brought back the shots and beer and stood back. John didn’t hesitate; tackling the whiskey first in quick secession, and then took a long drink of his beer.

“Let’s do it again,
” John said before his glass reached the bar.

He
had six shots of whiskey in him within ten minutes and was working on his second beer. Satisfied with his level of liquid courage, he got comfortable on the barstool and settled in. The bartender went back to washing glasses and John took in the remainder of the patrons.  A quick scan of the room, using the wide mirror behind the bar, revealed two women among an assortment of men. One woman was sitting in between two men at a table across from the bar, which John quickly crossed off as a possibility, leaving him with the lone woman at the end of the bar. He’d seen her when he walked in, but hoped he would have other choices. Her pudgy, round face was hovering over the rim of her glass, but her eyes were already on him. She smiled at him and he instinctively tried to look away. He reminded himself that he didn’t have to be in a hurry, then hoped time would reveal another opportunity.

#

Nancy was as annoying to listen to, as she was to look at. John sat at the other end of the bar for four hours drinking before he gave in. Much to his dismay, no one came in and as his vision blurred, he figured he would have to make do with what he had. From the moment he slid down the bar and asked to sit next to her, Nancy was all over him. Her grocery store perfume mixed with the smell of stale cigarettes made him want to throw up. To her credit, Nancy had a wonderful, sexy voice. John assumed this was what all those phone sex ladies really looked like on the other end of the line. He found that if he glanced in the opposite direction when she was talking to him, he could stand to be near her.

“You look like the type of man who would like to have a good cook at home,”
she said.

It was the third time she’d said it, as much as John could keep track. He guessed from the look of her from the bar down, she’d been involved in cooking big meal
s most of her life. “I bet you can cook a lot,” he said, trying not to laugh. He was drunk and he knew it. He’d tried to pace himself an hour ago, but soon realized he was too far gone to do anything about it. “So what time does this place pick up?”

Nancy’s bulbous head pull
ed back from the rim of her glass and eyed him cautiously. “You looking for someone?” she asked.

John smiled and shook his head.
“No, sweetie, I found somebody,” he said. “I want to know what time the party starts.” He was still holding on to the hope that he could find another woman. Nancy had tried to kiss him twice and he couldn’t bring himself to go through with it.

“We can get the par
ty started any time you want,” she said. She swiveled her hips on the bar stool and managed to catch one of John’s legs in between hers. She squeezed and her mouth parted, revealing the gapped toothed smile he was trying to avoid. “You know what I mean?”

John couldn’t respond.
He was drunk, but he wasn’t that drunk. He didn’t want to lose Nancy, but at this point that seemed impossible. He decided to give himself another few hours then he would have to settle for what he had.

#

Nancy whispered in John’s ear and the smell of beer and pretzels was over powering. “Why don’t we get out of here?” she asked.

Another two hours passed and John’s luck was on the rise. He’d stopped drinking and could now at least see the entrance to the bar from across the room. There had been several new arrivals and as of half an hour ago
, it included a small group of women who looked like they’d come from work.

“I have to take a leak,”
he said. He had to unlatch himself from Nancy’s legs to get up and his concern grew when she tried to get up with him. Worried she might follow him in the bathroom, he had to lay down the law. “Wait here damn it, or I won’t be coming back.”

Nancy didn’t seem to mind being talked to like a dog. John turned his attention elsewhere. There’d been several more arrivals in
the past few minutes and he needed a good look at the landscape. He stood at the entrance to the bathroom and scanned the tables. The volume of the music had increased over the last hour and taken a distinctively soft rock turn.

He
knew the three girls from work were out of the question. They were a far better upgrade from Nancy, but they’d come together and would be too risky. The bar was filling up fast and he needed to settle on someone quick. He took his turn in the bathroom then came out ready for one last try.

He ignored the tables and the dance floor. There were a good number of couples and after work get-togethers enjoying the music and drinks
, but none of which could be of use to him. One last scan of the bar brought him to a lone figure at the opposite end from his awaiting Nancy. To John’s pleasant surprise, this woman was a tall brunette who looked far too good to be alone. He waited unusually long near the bathroom door watching her. After several minutes, he figured she was either alone or still waiting on someone. Either way, with Nancy in his back pocket, he figured he might as well take a chance.

“Mind if I buy you a drink?” he
asked as he forced himself between the woman and the man standing next to her. He thought it was a corny approach, but didn’t have much else to start off with.

“You serious?” she asked
flipping her long hair back behind her ears. She had a pretty face, but up close, it was easy to see the years had been hard. Even so, John was attracted to her. “You see a girl by herself and figure you got a chance.”

John could see she wasn’t the type to play around with.

“That’s exactly what I thought,” he said.

Her face held hard as stone for a moment then softened until she was laughing.
“Well, hell, at least you’re honest,” she said. “I’ll take that. Jack and Coke for me, I’m Stacy.”

John shook her hand then ordered her drink and an
other for himself. The drinks came quick and he was amazed by his ability to flirt. Stacy had little trouble keeping up with him and the two finished off several drinks as they went back and forth about life. John was forced to create on the fly, settling on the story that he’s in Victorville delivering parts.

“
You know that girl?” Stacy asked, looking down the bar towards the bathrooms.

John followed her gaze to find Nancy staring at him with an evil eye. “No,” he
said and looked away.

“She’s been
eyeing you for the longest. I would swear you owe her money or something.”

John downed another drink and decided he’d pushed his luck as long as he could. He figured Stacy was giving him about as many signs as he’s going to get.
He could tell from the short summery of her ex-husbands that she wasn’t the prim and proper type. “You want to get out of here?” he asked.

Stacy’s grin widened. She took a long drink and looked John in the face.
“You been working up the courage to ask me that?”

John nodded.

“Alright then, let’s take this party somewhere else,” she said and hopped off the barstool.

John grabbed a hold of
her hand and weaved through the crowd toward the door. He felt pride swelling in his chest. It had been a long time since he was on the hunt and now he was filled with testosterone and liquid courage. What he hadn’t quite figured out, was what he was going to do with Stacy once he got her home.

#

It took a good deal of work, but John convinced Stacy to come back to his house. She showed signs of obvious concern, pointing out that she only lived ten minutes away. John was persistent and eventually won, but Stacy kept quiet as they pulled out onto the highway. They were several miles down the road before the booze in her system calmed her nerve. John felt her put her hand on his leg as she slid across the seat. He could barely keep his eyes on the road and it only took him a few minutes to realize he was far too drunk to drive.

He
spent much of the time focusing on the road, although Stacy made it difficult for him. Apparently, she wasn’t willing to wait until they got back to his house before moving the party along. She reached for his zipper and John knew he had to do something. He had a vision of Angela stuck firm in his mind and he knew she wouldn’t approve, even if he was bringing home a cow for the slaughter.

“Hold on now,”
he said, pulling Stacy’s hand away from his crotch. She glared at him and slid across the cab. “Don’t get pissed,” he said, trying to recover. “I can’t drive with you doing that. Hell, I can barely see the road now.”

Stacy’s stare stayed cold for a while
, but she gave in another few miles down the road. “All right then,” she said, sliding back over next to him. “I’ll give you a break.” She slid her hand over his leg, but left it there. “If you can’t handle the strain now, I’ll have to make you strain more later.”