Fall by Jeff Thomson

Author:Jeff Thomson [Thomson, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic
Publisher: Twisted Synapse Books
Published: 2018-06-23T04:00:00+00:00

6

Gravel Road

North of Tonopah, Nevada

Freddy Perdue was pissed. The bitch fought back! There he was, giving her the best fuck of her life, and she had actually tried to kick him in the balls!

But that had always been the way, hadn’t it? The women in his life had always tried to kick him in the balls. Some, like his mother, like that absolute bitch of a wife, had succeeded. But he just kept going, just kept moving, away from home, away from college (where he’d been accused but never arrested for date rape), away from engineering school. Nothing stopped him. Nothing had ever stopped him - until his wife called the Air Force.

That had stopped him. No. That delayed him, put him out of commission for . . . how long had it been? Didn’t matter. He was on the move now. Nothing would stop him, ever again. He’d proved that, hadn’t he?

That place, those doctors and nurses and orderlies, with their little pills and their needles and their injections, and the incessant talk, talk, talk. They tried to stop him, but in the end, he had fooled them all and they let him go.

That stupid pig farmer tried to stop him from taking his motor home. He’d shown that asshole, hadn’t he? Shown him the business end of his nine millimeter.

And then the asshole’s two daughters had tried to stop him, had fought and kicked and scratched. They were now nothing more than a fresh hole in the desert, just like their father, and Freddy Perdue was still moving.

He glanced in the rear view mirror at the new bitch curled up on the floor behind him. She tried to stop him, tried to kick him in the balls yet again, but he was still moving and he had given her the beating of her life. Should he kill her, too? Probably. Eventually. But not yet. Maybe after he took her in the ass.

Behind her, out of sight and tied to the bed in the back of the motor home, the other bitch hadn’t fought him, had just given up without any fight at all. But she was pretty much done, used up, nothing but a rag doll. He’d beaten her, of course, because that’s what you did. His father taught him that, had demonstrated it on his ball-kicking mother. And maybe he’d beaten her a bit too much. He wasn’t sure. He’d felt something break the last time. So now she was like a toy, relegated to the bottom of the toy box because it just didn’t work anymore. He’d need to kill her - dig another hole in the desert and drop her in. Should make the other bitch watch. Teach her a lesson.

Dig a hole in the desert . . .

He frowned at his own reflection in the rear view mirror. Something wasn’t right. Just what that was, escaped him for a moment, but then he knew:

He hadn’t hidden the last body.

That stupid jag-off in Tonopah -

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