Special Presentation
- By Evil Jim -
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The lights were out in the parking lot for the third night in a row and Jason, a trusted S-Mart™ employee, was beginning to wonder if they’d ever be fixed. He scanned the lot for any last shopping carts to be brought in, the stragglers that were revealed after all the customer’s vehicles were gone. Just one tonight, all the way at the end of the lot a hundred yards away. He normally wouldn’t have seen it in the dark but this one couldn’t be missed as it was brightly illuminated by the headlights of a nearby vehicle; a giant 4X4 truck jacked up on huge knobby tires. Menacing even from this distance. Jason began to walk toward it, taking his time enjoying the cool night air. His duties done, just bring in one more cart and then he could go home.
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Minutes later he arrived at the cart and its new friend. He squinted as he looked at the intimidating vehicle head-on. Definitely not something to mess with. Huge, black, and splattered with a dried dark-colored substance he hoped was mud. The battered Wisconsin license plate read “RASH”. Looking down, he noticed the truck was in the middle of four parking spaces. Though it didn't matter this late at night and this far back in the lot, it still irked him that some people were inconsiderate enough to do such a thing. “Dork,” he muttered under his breath, turning away and reaching for the cart. Though the comment was barely perceptible, as if in answer, the truck started with a roar. Jason jumped and turned around but “RASH” merely sat there idling. He looked at it for a moment, waiting, but the truck did nothing else.
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Just as he began reaching for the cart again, “RASH” revved with a primal roar. No longer impressed with this moron’s antics, Jason turned his back completely and began pushing the cart toward the dimly lit department store. He’d gone no more than a few paces when the truck revved once more, and again. Over his shoulder he watched as it finally leaped forward a few feet and braked at a screech. He quickened his pace. The truck did this twice more before it backfired in a deafening BANG and died. Immediately the starter whined for several seconds with no result. It whined again and Jason smiled. The lights, you moron. Your stupid lights are on. He laughed.
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The headlights cut off and the engine started again. BAAARRRROOOOOMM!! The head lamps flicked back on and he was blinded as powerful fog lights mounted on the roof of this beast joined the flood. The engine revved, now angrier than ever.
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Jason knew he was in trouble. He left the cart where it was and bolted for the safety of the store. The roar of the engine reached a maddening speed and was lost in a high-pitched squeal of tires as the clutch dropped and the truck sped off behind him. He heard a voice similar to his own shout, “Oooohhhh Shhhhiiiiittt!!!!” as he raced across the oil stained parking lot. He watched in horror as his black shadow before him, illuminated by the hot-white lights, elongated as the beast neared. He heard a crash as the cart he’d left was smashed by the thing’s huge bumper.
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He ran as never before, legs pumping, arms pistoning as he sprinted the longest hundred yards of his life. The store seemed a mile away. For one brief horrible moment his feet shot out from under him as he slid across a particularly greasy stall. He hit dry asphalt and skidded a moment before pushing off again back into a full out sprint.
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Halfway there and the mad driver was still behind him! A sharp pain knifed its way into his side as a muscle he’d pulled in his near-slip came to life. He swore between breathless pants and continued on, unmindful as the pain dug its way deeper into his abdomen. Almost there. Almost there. Must keep going.
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At last! He slammed into the double doors and came to a bone-jarring halt. He pushed again but no use, locked. The truck was almost on top of him now. He fell to his knees in defeat and saw the word before him, “Pull”. He leaped to his feet and yanked the door open. He lunged to the inner set and did the same.
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Seconds later he heard a deafening crash of broken glass and twisted metal as the 4X4 exploded through the front doors while he sprinted down the main aisle toward the back of the store.
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The truck barreled mindlessly through cash registers, canned goods, and racks of children's' clothes. Good thing we’re closed, Jason thought absently as he raced to the swinging metal doors by the rest rooms and layaway counter.
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Only one place left. He found himself degrading into a limping stagger as the pain in his side increased with every step. He heard numerous crashes as the truck smashed more display tables and counters. Please oh please oh please oh please oh please let me make it!
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He slammed through the metal doors and hurled himself toward the emergency exit. Only wide enough for one man. He punched the bar and flew outside, unmindful of the blaring alarm he’d just set off. Immediately he was flipped head-over-heels as the handrail beyond the exit struck him solidly across the hips. The world spun and he landed flat on his back at the bottom of the stairs several feet below.
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Stunned, dazed, and bruised, Jason crawled to his feet and staggered as fast as his burning legs could carry him to the tall grass in the empty lot behind the store. After a few short yards he collapsed into total exhaustion. Not a moment too soon as the angry monster 4X4 collided with the reinforced concrete rear wall of the store. Flaming shrapnel and mangled debris flew past him in a furry. All he could do was cover his head with his hands. He twitched involuntarily as the blinding demon screamed one last powerful time . . . and became silent. After a moment he looked up. Darkness. The blinding death-lights were out forever. Safe at last!
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He was about to get up when he heard the sounds of lawnmowers roaring to life….
©1998 Evil Jim
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