Ride

Ride

It was the rain that caused the whole thing. It was coming in sideways, hard. The wipers on Clay's Civic were new, but they couldn't keep up with that driving, sideways rain. The cold, and the God damned rain had triggered Clay's sympathetic soul when he saw a figure holding a sign, just inside of an overpass, while heading west on I-20. 

Well honestly, it was the January deluge, and guilty that guided Clay's hand that morning. Clay had just screamed at his mother and father, and stormed out of his childhood home, in the midst of a temper tantrum. His parents had told him that the next semester at Tech would be the last they'd commit to paying. It was a difficult talk for them, but it had to be said. The tuition was too much for them to shoulder alone. 

If Clay would've just would've stay calm and tried to see things from their point of view, before his dramatic exit, they would've offered to match his own contributions. Unfortunately, Clay's cooler head didn't prevail until he hit the highway. Slowly but surely it was setting in, just how much of an entitled brat he just was. As luck would have it, precisely when Clay's regret lay heaviest on his chest, Kenneth appeared. 

Kenneth was the figure with the sign getting soaked to the bone under the overpass. Clay couldn't read Kenneth's melting cardboard sign, that had once said: 

Need 2 git HOME!

LUBUCk or close as u goin

Pleez!

Clay couldn't see the sign, but it didn't matter. He pulled up next to where Kenneth was huddled under the concrete corner of the overpass and beeped his horn twice. Kenneth got to his feet and when he did, he tossed off a blue tarp he had been shielding himself with. The tarp was old and thin. Raggity, but large enough to wrap himself with. Himself and apparently a friend. Once Kenneth was halfway down the steep concrete bank, Clay was able to see that the old tarp was now being held up by a second hitcher. One he hadn't noticed before. It was too late for second thoughts though, as Kenneth had skid his way to the passenger side of the black Civic. 

Clay hit the auto/down button with his left hand as he waved Kenneth in with his right. He then hit the triangular button on his dash, to activate his flashing caution lights. "Need a ride, bud?" Clay half shouted. "Fuckin-A we do! We been walking for days! My name is Kenneth. Kenneth Ward, and up there neath the tarp is Shelley. How far you headed, pal?" Kenneth frantically blurted. "Uh… Lubbock. Headed back to school. You?" Clay said with bit of unease in his voice. 

"I knew we'd get some smart ass goin back from Christmas break!. I told that exact shit to Shelly! That exact shit! We headed their too! Well, not to school, but to Lubbock. My Dad lives there. Let me grab Shelley." 

With that, Kenneth looked back over his right shoulder and excitedly waved towards the small figure hiding beneath the rotten blue tarp. Kenneth held the back door of the Civic open as Shelley jumped in along with the two dark blue gym bags and bright purple backpack that held all the worldly possessions of the two travelers. As Kenneth slammed the back door closed behind her, he yanked open his front door. Slipping in as quickly as he could. Quick or not Clay's interior was absolutely soaked. He'd have to clean and dry everything once he made it back. The couple had sloshed mud and dirty water everywhere they touched. 

Needless to say, all the mud, all the water, and the additional passenger sitting in his back seat made Clay immediately regret stopping. Guilty conscience or no, this was already too much. Plus, he very quickly understood that he didn't like Kenneth. Clay had met plenty of Kenneths, and he knew the next few hours would be brutal. Kenneth would be a loud mouth, no it all, white trash explosion. Just wait. 

Most regrettable though, was having the girl behind him. Something about a stranger being behind him like that was unnerving. He kept finding himself looking back at her in his rear view. Girl or no, it was putting him on edge from the second he turned off his flashers and signaled left to enter the highway. He looked over his left shoulder to make sure he was clear & off they went. Clay hoped that the trip would be a quick one. Maybe if the rain would let up soon, and traffic stayed thin, they'd hit Lubbock by 12:30 or 1:00pm. Just 3 hours or so. Hopefully. 

Kenneth wouldn't disappoint Clay. In fact, he would be all that Clay predicted. Loud, obnoxious, rude and thankless. Shelley, though… she was far worse. It began with her plopping her muddy, tennis shoed, feet on the center console. Sticking out between Clay and Kenneth. Kenneth never batted an eye at all the wet mud, and dirt staining the console and everything else she touched with them. Her grating voice and witch cackle laugh began to fall on Clay's list of concerns. Everything about this girl was acrid, acidic, poisonous. Everything that is, beyond her looks. If you just judged her on those, she'd get high marks. She was quite pretty, underneath the mud, and muck she was draped in. 

Clay found himself eyeballing her through the rear view, many times over the first leg of the journey. At times though, if being honest, he wasn't sure if he was spying for security or staring perversely. Every now and again, Shelley's eyes would catch his peeping back at her in the mirror. Clay would have a shock of fear shoot through him when she'd catch him looking, but she never let on. She was far too busy cackling and screeching racist remarks back and forth with her traveling companion. 

For the most part, Clay kept quiet, but polite with his unruly passengers. He turned up the radio a bit, and just focused on the music and the road. He would, however, remain polite and attentive when need be. About an hour out from Lubbock, the rain let up. Now, being close to midday, the car and its occupants were bathed in bright Texas light. Clay could feel his tension release and fade along with the dark clouds. 

It was about then, that Kenneth began itching for a heart to heart with his new chauffer. 

 "You got family, Clay? Mom & dad? Brothers, sisters?" 

"Ya" Clay answers. "All of the above. Why?" 

"Momma and Daddy still together too, right? Had that perfect ass childhood, with mom, dad, sis, bro, and perfect little...college boy Clay. All happy and shit." 

"Haha, far from perfect! But, ya. No real complaints." Clay half chuckled. 

"I knew I had you pegged, Clay! No offense, you know, but I had you pegged a mile off!" Keneth shouted, while laughing, and gripping Clay's right shoulder. 

"Anyway, the two of us, Kenneth motions toward Shelley, we most certainly did NOT have that same kinda family unit!" 

Still laughing and rocking in his seat, Kenneth goes on. 

"See, Shelly-belly and I, had it rough. All we had was one another, in truth. Both our parents was evil fucks. Ain't that right, Shelly-bell?" 

"Both them fuckheads weren't worth a shit on a shoe! They beat us and worse, right Ken? Shelley asked. 

"Sure they did. US being Christian, and all though… we are almost back home to make things right. After what, 9...10 years, Shell?"

"Almost 12" Shelley answered. "We left when I was 5. And I'll be 17 in April." 

"GOD DAMN, time flies!" Exclaimed Kenneth. 

Right then, a couple things hit Clay pretty hard. First off, he felt guilty as shit for eyeing Shelley so much in the mirror. He couldn't believe she was only 16. He'd have guessed 23, 24. She was just a kid though. The second thing that bopper Clay between the eyes was that Kenneth and Shelley weren't a couple. They were siblings. He would've sworn they were girlfriend/boyfriend. Just how they interacted, and looked...he never would've thought they were related. 

"We are actually gonna see our mom and pops for the first time in a decade, She'll! Ain't you pumped? You ready? We almost there." 

"Fuck ya, Kenny! I'm way more than ready, baby!" 

That's the moment Clay's neck hairs stood on end. The bile in their voices, the odd history they were recalling, and the very strange relationship between them had pushed Clay to the brink. They were still a good half hour from their destination, but Clay was near his boiling point. He tuned the radio dial until he found a local station. It was a poppy fm channel, playing something that Clay didn't recognize, but it didn't matter. 

"Guys? Mind if I crank the radio for a bit? I love this song." Clay asked while looking into the rear view. Before the others could answer, Clay yanked the volume knob to the right, ending the conversation that had began to bother him so much. The two passengers kept quiet for a few miles, letting Clay regain his composure for the moment. Clay was relieved, and he could now see the finish line on the horizon. It wouldn't be long now. After he completely details the Civic, he can forget these two like they were nothing more than a bad dream. 

The group had arrived when they all saw a highway sign that read: 

Lubbock 

Next 4 exits

When they passed the sign, Kenneth hit the power button on the Civic's stereo. "Take the next one, and go right at the stop sign, and follow it for a couple miles. We're not far up. You ready, sissy?" Kenneth asked while turning himself around in his seat. 

"Gettin' there. Don't worry bout me, though. Here. Take your bag." 

Shelley then shoved one of the dark colored gym bags over the seat towards her brother. 

The sound of metal clanking metal came from the bag, which registered with Clay momentarily. He had the fleeting thought, that the sound was strange. He expected that the bags contained clothes, or food maybe. The heavy clanking didn't sound like either. But, as quickly as the thought shot through Clay's brain, it just as quickly exited. He didn't give a shit WHAT they were lugging around, at that point. Clay was just moments away from ditching these two weird Springer rejects. Soon enough, them and their noisy mystery bag would be their daddy's problem, and Clay wouldn't ever see these white trash fucks again. 

Kenneth guided Clay along, eventually turning onto an unpaved path that seemed to lead towards a wooded area. A very home made looking street sign hung on a bent 6 foot pole that looked to be only barely stuck in the soft, wet ground. The sign was made of an old plank of pallet wood with WARD painted on sloppily in black lettering. The actual path was ruddy with big pot holes and it was still pretty wet from when the storm passed through a day or so earlier. "Sorry guys, the Honda wasn't made for back roads. Gonna have to let you off here." Clay announced to the duo. 

"Aite then. House is just up ahead anyhow. Let's go, Shelley-Belly. Time to see Daddy."

With that the two proceeded to unload. Stopping to passionately kissed as the met outside the doors of the car. Clay was confused and disgusted and flat out ready to punch it into reverse and peel away. Back to college, and his friends, and civilization. Which felt like it was a million miles from these toxic incest rednecks, even if it was actually just accross town. 

"Bye, guys." Clay shouted as soon as they shut their doors. Neither sibling reacted to Clay's words. They hadn't even tried to thank him for the ride. They continued to make out, and feel each other up, as Clay backed off the dirt road, and onto the paved farm to market. 

The last Clay saw of the two, was when he peeked into his rearview nervously, to make sure they weren't gonna run after him or anything. With that last look he could see that they had turned to follow the muddy path, up toward the wooded area. The hands closest to one another were clasped together as they walked forward. Both gym bags were on Kenneth's left shoulder looking considerably less full than they had been. Shelley had the bright colored backpack hanging loosely on her left shoulder.

It was just a glimpse backward, but another oddity registered, the left Clay's consciousness. In his glance, it looked like both people were holding something shiny in the hands that weren't clasped together. The thought was gone before Clay's blinker had stopped, after signaling to merge back onto the highway. 

For the next two hours, after unloading his bags into his dorm room, Clay concentrated on deep cleaning the interior of the Honda. He had to do it all at a local self serve car wash, because he didn't own any cleaning products himself. He liked the car wash though, and since it was still chilly out, it was pretty empty. Giving Clay quick access to all the tools of the trade available to him. 

He was worn out at the end of the detailing job. It was worth it though. It looked like those weirdos were never there at all, and it only cost him all the quarters in his ash tray. One more buck to buy a black ice air freshener to hang on his rear view, and he would be done. 

Clay reached for his wallet to grab the single for the machine, when he came to the sick realization that it was there. Not in any of his pockets. Not anywhere in the just cleaned car. He knew he had it driving there, since he had used it for gas a couple hours before. "Had those fucks, gotten their hands on his wallet somehow? Fuck! No good deed… Fuck!

Now he had to cancel his card. Get a new ID. And what would he do for money? The bank wouldn't open for nearly 2 days. "Fuckin pieces of shit. Never again." Clay muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs to his dorm room. He had to buzz his roommate to open the doors to the lobby are, since his key card was gone along with his wallet. "That's gonna be another hassle to replace on Monday." Clay continued to mutter as he trudged upwards along the staircase. 

It was 4pm when Clay sat on his bed to rest his eyes with a well earned nap. The sound of his roommate, Greg's laptop woke Clay from his slumber. His nap had evolved into a full sleep, it seemed, when Clay glanced over at the bright red numbers of his alarm clock. It read 10:11pm. He couldn't believe he had slept so long, but he guessed he needed it. 

Clay could hear that Greg was watching a stream of local news 8. He recognized the reporters voice. Clay was groggy, but as he was adjusting back to life in the waking world, he could make out that the reporter was telling a story about some grisly murders that took place earlier in the day. 

Clay heard words like cannibalized, and decapitation along with the voices of policemen saying it was the worst thing they've had to see in their careers. What perked Clay right up though, was when the reporter said the words: unoffically called Ward street.

That's when Clay shot up like a bolt, instructing Greg to "go back...to the start of that story." Greg was startled at Clay's sudden movement and his half shouted demands. Greg quickly complied though, seeing the seriousness in Clay's face. Catching the whole report from the beginning now, Clay quickly saw his fears were real. The reporter who was being broadcast live from just outside of the zone the cops had sealed off with yellow tape. Just behind him, was a scene clearly remember by Clay. The dirt road, the shitty sign, all leading to the wooded area. It was the same Ward street. No denying that. 

The report droned on as Clay's head spun, and his stomache turned. 

Clay's mind was swirling with the reporter's words echoing off of every synapse.

...CANNIBALIZED

DECAPITATED 

6 DEAD 

2 INFANTS STILL MISSING...

...BODIES BRUTALIZED 

POSED 

MOLESTED...

...DEMONIC WORDS 

SCRAWLED IN BLOOD

SIGNS OF DEVIL WORSHIP...

...APB OUT FOR MAN & WOMAN

SEEN WALKING AWAY FROM 

THE SCENE...

All those words and phrases bore holes into Clay's mind, as the reality of the day's event set in. The news went on to say the police had no leads onto the identification of the killer or killers, other than a motorist who reportedly witnessed two people who looked to have blood on their clothes, asking for a ride near the crime scene. 

The anchor went on to say, ..."Unfortunately for the murdered family, this was not their first experience with tragedy. Over a decade ago, the Ward family had, not one, but two of their children seemingly disappear, in what was presumed to be a kidnapping. I say presumed because despite desperate search attempts, the Wards never saw their 5 year old daughter or their 14 year old son again. AND now this… just truly awful." ...

It was them. They killed those people, and they have his wallet. His address. The key card...