The Lonely Traveller

Chapter Four

They were a tall lean figure. I thought I had been better, hidden better. My eyes were drawn to the almost covered tire tracks in the snow that led up to where they parked. I didn't think anyone would be around here, especially in this weather. They were up against the passenger side door, probably trying to pick the lock. I wouldn't blame them. This was a working vehicle, not many of those left around here. I thought I would be scared, frightened even to run into a person again.

I wasn't. I stopped walking, stood in place and glanced down at my feet. The wind was whistling loud enough to cover most of the sounds my feet would make in the snow. They seemed pretty occupied with trying to get into my truck. Unfortunately for them, I had the keys. I could feel Kit wiggling around inside of my jacket again. I wrapped my arm around my torso trying to keep her into place. I pulled the knife out from its sleeve at my waist.

All people were dangerous and even if they weren't, I wasn't friendly. I came up behind them. They had a thin grey jacket on, a material similar to that of a windbreaker, with the hood, pulled up over their head. I raised my foot and kicked the back of their leg in, right behind their knee. They cursed, falling to their knees. "You move and I swear to god I'll slit your throat right here." I said pressing the blade of the knife against their throat. It was a tad alarming how calm I was giving the situation.

I've had to defend myself before, defend my things with what little of them I had. Perhaps this was why my heart was beating at a steady pace and my mind was cleared of any worrisome thoughts. "I didn't know this was your truck." they - he said slowly. His voice was too low in pitch to be that of a woman.

"Bullshit." I spat back to him.

His back was still to me, knife still pressed against his throat. He was a liar, everyone lied when they were in a life or death situation. Hell, I would lie too if it meant I didn't get my throat split open. "You were the one snooping around in the parking garage last night, weren't you?" When he didn't respond I shoved him to the side and pressed my boot down against his back. "Weren't you!" I yelled digging the heel of my boot further into his back. The pressure enough I was putting against his back would already be leaving a bruise.

For a moment he stayed silent. He was probably thinking of a dozen different things he could tell me. "If you don't start talk-"

"- Yes! Yes, it was me in the garage last night. I saw the back of your truck turn into there a few hours before. I just need some help!" He yelled; the palms of his hands were pressed flat against the ground. I let him go, raised my foot from his back and hurried around the front of the truck to the driver's side door.

I climbed in and slammed it shut just as he reached the door. I stuck the keys into the ignition and twisted it away from me hearing the engine rev to life in response. Kit fell out of my jacket and climbed over my lap into the backseat of the truck. He pounded his fist against the window next to me, his face was still covered. I pulled backward out of the parking spot and proceeded to shift the gear into drive. I sped away before he could jump in front of me.

I hated people.

Hate.

He tried to run after me. I could see him stumbling through the snow in my rearview mirror. Then he collapsed, fell to his knees first and then onto his side. I looked back ahead and slammed my breaks. The front of the truck went skidding through the snow and bumped into the car in front of me. Kit squeaked, I flew forwards before the seatbelt pulled me back against the seat. "Kit." I whispered rubbing the back of my aching neck. My heart almost stopped and then I heard the tiny squeaking. I unfastened the seatbelt and looked into the backseat.

She was on her back nestled between the pile of blankets and pillows I had back there. I reached down and pulled her out. She looked at me with her beady black eyes and licked my face. "Yeah, love you too." I smiled. Through the back window, I could see his figure in the distance on the ground. I put Kit down in the front passenger seat and turned back around to face the steering wheel and I drove away.

I'm a liar.

I wish I drove away, I should have.

But no. I hate how my father taught me empathy. I climbed out of the truck, stumbling the first few steps before moving into a light jog. My mind was fuzzy still and the front of my truck had a dent in it. Yet I was running towards the guy that tried to steal my truck. I was finally standing over him with my knife out. I should have killed him, he was unconscious anyway. He wouldn't feel it, he'd be dead in an instant. I knelt down next to him, grip on my knife tight as I swung my arms under his armpits.

He was heavy but I had dragged heavier. Cars, after all, didn't move out of the way. Kit was jumping up and down in the seat when I got back to the truck. I managed to haul him up into the back seat across my makeshift bed. I slammed the door shut and walked around to the front of my truck seeing the damage.

I screamed and began kicking the bumper of the car I slid into with my truck.

I couldn't tell if I was screaming out of anger that my truck was damaged or the fact that I now have a person to deal with. I hated people, I hate him already. "God. Dammit. Stupid. Truck." I yelled with every kick to the bumper of the car I ran into. After a few minutes, once my anger dissipated and my foot began to ache, I looked back at the truck. I could see Kit bouncing up and down in the front seat to look over the dashboard. Inside was a person, inside was my enemy.

"Goddammit."

Skycrystal23