Five miles in on a dusty dirt road, a young man walked alone. It seemed a good thing to help the chap, so
we pulled of and offered a phone,
Or ride, or food whatever the case we’d get him out of this dark
night. His smile had a catch, a pasted
on look, his eyes never blinking or shuttered
“I’m seeking my friends out here in the dark” his voice was
as smooth as a feline. “will you give me a ride, up the road to my
truck. The engine last I heard did
sputter”
We obliged, tis the way you treat strangers or kin who come
needing your help in the country. Man’s
got a duty to help, another in need, in the dark wide expanse of Elberta.
Up the Slant road we drove, then I noticed the cold metal of
a Mossberg pump action. My foot pushed
on the gas, the tires spun out real fast, trying to gain enough traction.
“So what brings you here, out in the deep dark this night, your
friends and you, what was your doing”. My
heart beat did race, but was beaten, and lapped, by the sprinting thoughts of
my spooked mind contraption.
His lips barely moved, his words slithered out, “we’re
hunting for sport and for game. If we
find ourselves enough we’ll be fed here for days. Won’t need help from another faction”
We came round the bend, a red pickup sat there, I said “ I reckon
this is the last I’ll be seein’ ya.”
His famished eyes looked my portly body up, and down, then
up again. His finger left it’s rest on
the trigger
“You’re a lucky man” he said. I was still full of dread, “my people we don’t
really like gristle.”
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