Dead Stop Read online

  “Oh look!” Stacey pointed off to the south at a female figure wearing tall hair, a tube top and hot pants, who was slowly making her way towards the line of trucks. “It’s Libby the Lot Lizard, starting her rounds.”

  “Hi Lizzie!” the two girls sang out loudly, waving furiously at the truck stop prostitute.

  Benny groaned as the older woman stopped and glared. She snatched the cigarette out of her mouth and snarled something incomprehensible at the waving pair before shooting them the finger and resuming her slow walk towards the garage. The waitresses almost collapsed in laughter, and the little janitor could only shake his head at the strange politics of women.

  “So that’s it?” Marisa dabbed her eyes as she recovered. “You wanted to show us Libby? We’ve seen Libby before, you know.”

  “All of her,” Stacey chimed in, “If you count those two times she got thrown out of trucks without her clothes.”

  Benny winced at the memory, but stayed on topic…a real challenge when dealing with these two.

  “No, you gooses! I was pointing at the sky back there above the cornfield.”

  “Ohhhhhhhhh….”

  Both girls looked back out the door at the western sky.

  “Well, it’s dark,” Marisa offered.

  “Wait for it…”

  “And it’s getting windy.”

  “Wait for the lightning.”

  “Okay, but we need to…”

  Fortunately, right then nature decided to be kind and produced the desired illumination. Lightning flashed and the girls both “oohed” at the scene revealed under the brooding clouds.

  The western sky was full of birds.

  Hundreds of black silhouettes flickered as if in a strobe light as they whirled in a great circle beneath the thundercloud. It was like a cyclone of crows, all sailing in the dark, windy sky.

  “Hijole!” Marisa gasped. “What are they doing, Benny?”

  “I don’t know, chica,” the little janitor frowned at the sky. “I saw them earlier, before you two came in, but they were circling way out there over the corn field. Now they’re almost here.”

  “Awesome!” Stacey enthused. “And weird! I bet they are coming in ahead of the storm.”

  Benny studied the aerial whirlpool for a second, then gave it a bemused grimace.

  “Could be,” he shrugged. “You’d think they would go hide out in the trees at the Clark Creek, but maybe they got other ideas.”

  The two girls watched for a few seconds longer, then glanced at each other again and then their watches.

  “Yeah, you would think,” Marisa agreed, “but we’ll have to go hide out in Clark Creek if we don’t get a move on and get to our tables.”

  “Go ahead,” Benny waved the girls back to their duties. “I’ve got to get a move on too. Tomas wants me to hold down the kitchen for him while he goes on break and runs some food back to Arnold and Leon.”

  Marisa snorted.

  “You know the only reason he does that is so he and Leon can share a joint behind the shop, right?”

  “Not my business,” Benny shrugged. “He just needs to work on being a little quicker about it.”

  “You’re too nice, Benny,” the black haired girl frowned. “You need to stand up for yourself. Don’t let him run all over you.”

  “Yeah, that’s our job!” Stacey piped in.

  “Will you two go to work?!” the older man groaned and shooed the girls away.

  After they left, he spent a moment longer at the back door and watched the skies. Lightening flickered within the clouds again, once more revealing the frantic aerial whirlpool of crows. Their winged bodies swooped and swerved high overhead. Then the lightning faded, causing the vast flock to disappear once more against the blackening sky.

  Benny frowned up at the blackness.

  Stacey was right. It really did seem odd for birds to be cavorting out here in front of an oncoming storm like this. He figured they should be hunting for trees to shelter in by now. There certainly weren’t any around here.

  “Then again,” he shrugged philosophically, “what the hell do I know about birds?”

  What he did know was there was work to be done. The football game would let out soon and he had things to get ready. So Benny decided to leave the storm and crows to sort themselves out, and pulled the door closed behind him.

  ###

  Twilight - Libby

  Those smart ass little sluts!

  Libby Darnell seethed as she resumed her course towards the distant trucks at the back of the parking lot.

  Well they could call her “Lizzie” and have their little laugh, but as far as she was concerned those two little tramps didn’t have any damn right to look down on her. If they thought for one minute they had been hired for their waitressing skills then they were even dumber than they acted. They already had their feet well down the road she had travelled and were too damn stupid to see it.

  She would have loved nothing better than to get in their snotty little faces and explain the facts of life to them…with a little fist action involved…but she knew Big Earl wouldn’t tolerate her laying a finger on them. And the last thing Libby wanted to do was get crosswise with Big Earl Anderson. What she called a living nowadays depended on having access to the Textro Truck Stop, and he could wreck it just by forbidding her from setting foot on the place.

  She didn’t dare let that happen.

  The next truck stop this size was two counties over, and the owner there took a sizeable cut of a working girls income…as opposed to just being willing to look the other way in exchange for the occasional favor like Big Earl. She couldn’t afford to relocate, and she damn sure didn’t want to be giving up any of her hard earned money to some pimp. Not to mention, she had certain habits. And moving would mean having to learn a whole new group of contacts so she could get what she needed.

  So, at least for now, the two little shitheads were safe.

  For now.

  Lightning flashed, and Libby looked up to see the crows wheeling overhead. She squinted briefly at the flying air-show before hunching her shoulders and continuing on her way.

  There had once been a time in her life where she might have indulged in a little wonder at the sight, but that girl was long gone. Right now her main goal was to get together a little scratch so she could get to Conner’s Liquor to set herself up for the weekend. And getting shit on by some stupid crow would not help her chances.

  The prostitute stopped at the corner of the maintenance garage to finish her cigarette and pat her hairdo to make sure it remained bird shit free. Thankfully her hair was still clean. The rest of her would just have to do, since she hadn’t had money to run down to the Laundromat lately. She had chosen the little tube top and hot pants primarily because they were small and therefore in her mind less obviously dirty than her other clothes.

  Now she wished she had picked something else.

  Libby wasn’t terribly happy with the figure the little outfit revealed. She knew she had put on a few pounds over the years, but tonight’s encounter with those teenage trollops with their ridiculous young figures had served as a reminder of how things were starting to slip. She knew her hot pants were causing her to sport a serious muffin top these days, with a pale stomach threatening to overhang her belt in a way she didn’t want to think about.

  She didn’t dwell on it though because that would lead to thoughts of possible future remedies, and Libby preferred not to think more than a couple of days ahead. The future was a place best left unconsidered…at least until her winning lottery number arrived someday and changed everything.

  The blast of an impact wrench sounded through the thin metal bay doors of the garage, causing Libby to jump.

  Damn! Arnold was still here, and must be working late! The Textro’s mechanic was a mean-hearted old shit who didn’t like her hanging around “his” building. The last time he had caught her out here he had cussed her out royally. And of course she had to take it or he would
run to Big Earl and start trouble.

  Growling a curse, the woman threw away her cigarette and left the slight shelter of the buildings corner. It was time to get to work anyway, so she headed towards the row of trucks. She didn’t even bother to look at the showers and bathroom as she walked by, other than to note the light was on inside, since it was another area forbidden to her. Big Earl had restricted her hooking to the side of the lot near the diesel pumps, and the rows of trucks themselves. He said it cut down on complaints.

  She had her own ideas about the complainants and what they could do with their whiny bitching. She had to make a living, dammit.

  At least she recognized a couple of trucks.

  There was a rough old Peterbilt belonging to “Leaping Larry” Brown, which counted as a minor bit of good news. Larry always had twenty bucks for a blowjob, which meant he was a reliable client and quick and easy to please. At least she would be able to pick up a couple of cheap bottles at the liquor store tonight.

  There was also a big new International ProStar owned by Gary “Buddha Boy” Norville. On the bright side he was actually semi-polite to her, and also willing to pay well for the full deal. On the downside, he was completely hairless and weighed well north of three hundred pounds…and he insisted on being on top. Doing business in his sleeper cab was kind of like having Moby Dick repeatedly land on you while you were both stuffed in a sardine can.

  “Beggars can’t be choosers,” Libby opined philosophically, but relegated Buddha Boy’s truck to the end of her list of intended stops.

  Lightning flashed again, dotting the parking lot with the shadows of the gyrating birds overhead, and she quickened her pace towards the trucks while holding her purse above her head. She could smell the rain in the wind as it picked up. The storm was almost here, and getting caught in a downpour was almost as bad as getting plastered in a mass crap attack by a flock of birds.

  Libby reached the first truck in the row and wasted no time in pulling herself up on the passenger side step and hammering on the door. Being coy didn’t pay in this business. It wasn’t expected of her, anyway. After waiting for about ten seconds, she knocked again on the truck.

  Still nothing.

  When no lights came on, she assumed the trucker was either in the restaurant or ignoring her and waiting for her to go away. Nice way to treat a lady with it being about to rain. Bastard. The prostitute gave the door a third good banging, just to be sure, then climbed down from the side of the vehicle.

  The first try seldom got results anyway, but one had to start somewhere. She slouched her way around the front of the big semi, and winced at the rumble of thunder. A glance at the distant store and restaurant reminded her that if it started raining now, there would be no way to avoid getting drenched. Her best hope lay in getting admitted into one of the cabs, and catching a ride up to the store later.

  Coming to the other side of the semi, she paused briefly at the blackness filling the gap between the large rigs.

  A tiny flash of instinctual caution tried to assert itself, but another growl of thunder intruded. This time a brief spatter of drops accompanied the rumble, and Libby realized her time to find shelter might be measured in seconds rather than minutes. Fortunately, the next semi belonged to Larry.

  She hopped up onto the step and knocked.

  No answer.

  “Oh c’mon, Larry!” She now banged on the door with enthusiasm. “It’s starting to rain!”

  Nothing.

  Either Larry was up at the restaurant having a cup of coffee, or he just wasn’t in the mood.

  “God dammit!” she yelled and tried to kick the door. Being too close to do it with any force, she settled for banging her knee against it instead. That didn’t satisfy very much either. “Screw you, Larry! I would have done you for free if you had let me in!”

  This wasn’t getting her any closer to shelter, and Libby could now hear the rain falling in the corn field behind the big rigs. She was about to get wet. Grumbling in frustration, the woman turned to get off the truck and stopped…

  Somebody now stood on the ground in the darkness directly behind her.

  And he stank.

  “Sweet Jesus, Larry!” She wrinkled her nose and tried not to gag. “What the hell have you been rolling in? Look, I’m sorry for losing my temper but don’t start giving me shit about kicking your truck till we’re inside. Okay?”

  The figure didn’t answer.

  “Okay?” she repeated, then thought better of it. “Hey, don’t paw at me. You know, on second thought just forget it. You smell awful and I would rather get wet than be stuck inside with y…”

  That’s when fate chose to have another flash of lightning illuminate the area, and the face of the figure in front of her.

  It wasn’t Larry.

  The skeletal face grinning up at her parted its jaws in wolfish anticipation, and Libby’s mind screamed while her body struggled to catch up and join in. She never got the chance.

  Just as she inhaled to shriek the thing struck.

  It drove a powerful open palm into her bare midsection, pancaking her pudgy belly against her back and pinning her to the side of the truck. Libby’s air exploded out of her before she could make a sound. Bile rose in her throat and she doubled over in nauseous pain. Even worse, her head came to rest on the bony shoulder of her assailant, causing its stench to envelope her head like a fog.

  Then the immobilizing pain in her gut blossomed into molten anguish as the monster closed its hand, driving spike-like fingers through the skin and muscle of her abdomen and hooking them into her viscera. It hurt…it hurt really bad…and Libby gagged from both the pain and the horrific smell while fighting to draw in breath to cry out. Then, just as she thought it couldn’t possibly hurt her any worse, it yanked back just as hard and she could feel skin and muscle rip free in a white hot explosion of tearing agony.

  She had been torn open!

  No longer pinned to the truck, the wounded prostitute rolled off the shoulder of her attacker and fell to the asphalt below. She managed to twist as she fell, landing on her back and shoulder. Loose pebbles drove into her back and side, and the asphalt grated a good slice of skin off her bare shoulder as well. The stricken woman writhed on the pavement, battling to maintain consciousness.

  Instinct told her she needed to get a handle on things fast.

  Looking up from the ground, Libby could see the silhouette of the thing shoving the chunk it ripped out of her into its jaws. It was eating her! Yet she had no time to try and wrap her head around that right now. She gripped her gut in agony, feeling wet insides trying to slither out of what felt like an enormous hole. The woman realized she had to get help fast or she was going to die.

  The problem was the monster stood between her and the way out between the trucks.

  Regardless, it was move now or die.

  Using one hand to hold her intestines in her body, she pulled her knees under her in an effort to start climbing to her feet. She didn’t know how she intended to get around the creature, as the trucks were rather close together and it could probably reach to either side just by taking a step or two. The idea of going out the back way occurred to her, since it would be going away from the monstrosity anyway. But it would also mean going all the way down the length of the trailer and coming back up the other side…and Libby didn’t know how many steps she had left in her before she dropped. Then she realized there was a better way.

  Keeping a tight grip on her ravaged stomach, she rolled underneath the cab of Larry’s rig. Behind her, she could hear the thing shuffling back and forth. She had no idea if it was looking for her or had lost interest and still focused on chewing the piece of her it had. She thought about crawling, then figured out it would be easier just to keep rolling.

  That would allow her to protect her stomach with both hands, and probably get to the other side faster. Besides, she didn’t want to come out from under the front of the truck because her attacker would be able to see her
before she could get to her feet and get moving. No, it would be better to keep rolling and come out the other side of the truck…or maybe even the next truck over.

  Still, she was bleeding badly and time was running out.

  Clutching her middle, Libby started to roll away from the dead thing and towards the other side. She didn’t know if it understood where she had gone, but tried to move quietly just in case it lost track of her. The effort nearly made her pass out from pain. Every turn onto her stomach hurt like the fires of hell itself, and the act of rolling must have involved abdominal muscles because every effort brought screaming anguish to her midsection.

  The woman choked back a whimper with each move. She was a self contained universe of misery. It took a supreme act of will just to keep going through the motions required to keep her moving. She didn’t even realize she had rolled out from under the truck…

  …until she struck the thicket of legs standing on the other side.

  This time Libby managed to scream as she was hauled to her feet by viselike grips and pushed up against the side of cab. Teeth sank into her arms and shoulder, and several more withered hands plunged like gnarled spears into the gaping hole in her stomach. Now her whole body became a mindless blossom of agony. The pain before had been nothing compared to this. She could feel their claw like fingers close around the vitals inside her before twisting and tearing them free.

  Yet despite the hopelessness, the all encompassing pain, and the knowledge she couldn’t hope to survive the damage now done to her, Libby still writhed in ever more feeble attempts to jerk free. She still didn’t want to die.

  Not now.

  Not like this.

  Above her, the sky erupted with a harsh cacophony as a thousand crows started calling at once. Lightning flared again, and Libby got one last look at the world. She couldn’t see the faces of her assailants, as they were all pressed up against her arms, body, and legs while eating her alive…but that meant she had a clear view over them.