Ultimate Dilemma (Justice Again Book 2) by M Comley (poetry books to read .txt) 📗

His attention was drawn to a car travelling behind him. It was closer than he felt comfortable with. Maybe up the road he’d pull over to allow the vehicle to pass. The driver was clearly in a hurry. Around the next bend, he slowed down and indicated. He turned into the next available road and let the car pass. The movement went without a hitch, no angry blast on the horn from the driver, nothing.

He continued on his journey. His house was only a couple of miles away. Time to ring Adele, tell her he was not too far from home. That way she’d have a nice cold beer waiting for him for when he walked through the back door.

Another sharp bend up ahead. He pressed his foot gently on the brake and eased around the curve. “What the…bloody idiot, what in God’s name is he doing standing there like that?”

He slammed the brakes on and drew the car to a halt. In front of him, the driver who had not long passed him had angled his car across the lane, effectively blocking all traffic from both directions.

Dale opened his car door and got out. He leaned on the top. “What’s the meaning of this? Kindly move your vehicle so I can get past. I have a very important meeting I have to attend this evening, and you’re holding me up.”

The figure refused to move an inch. Arms folded, leaning against the bonnet.

“Hey, you, did you hear me? Are you deaf or something? Move your damn car. Now.”

Again, the driver didn’t respond. By this time, Dale was beginning to get a stirring in his stomach, signifying that something was wrong. He cast an eye over his shoulder, pondered whether he had it in him to reverse all the way back to the road he’d pulled in for this person to pass him.

When he turned back to face the person, he found them standing within a foot of him. The stranger was dressed in a hoodie, their features masked by the excess fabric shielding their face.

Fear knotted his intestines. He really wasn’t one for confrontation of any kind, even in the classroom with his students. Was this one of them? Were they doing this to get their kicks?

Instead of speaking, the stranger took two steps forward. They were barely six inches away now. Dale was glad the door was between them. His inquisitive nature got the better of him. He peered into the darkness of the fabric to try to see who the devil was haunting him like this. It proved to be a pointless task.

“You’ve had your fun, now let me pass if you will?”

The stranger shook their head and withdrew a long implement from their pocket. Making out what the item was, Dale backed away from the car. The driver remained where they were, adding to his trepidation.

What the hell does this individual want from me? Should I ask them or should I just run and take my chances that I’ll outrun them? Although, I’m not as fit as I used to be, and they seem pretty agile to me. Shit! What do I do? Someone give me a sign, telling me what to do, for God’s sake.

He attempted to get a conversation going between them again. “Please, I don’t want any trouble. Is there something I can do for you?”

A growl left the stranger’s mouth, and they stepped around the door and into his personal space once more. “You can die,” came the person’s sinister response.

“Wha…t? You can’t mean that? I can’t die now, I’m too young. We can work this out, if only you’d tell me what you want.”

“Die! Die! Die!”

That one word was enough for Dale to want to take off. Fearing he wouldn’t have enough time to get in his car and turn it around, he turned and hot-footed it down the lane, trying to think of a shortcut he could take across the fields to get to his house which was within spitting distance of where he was.

No, I’ll be better off sticking to the main road. At least there’s a chance of someone driving past.

Footsteps behind him. Petrified, he refused to peer over his shoulder, his fear forcing his legs to work. His mind whirred with horrendous ways in which the stranger could hurt him.

Die! I don’t want to die. I have too much to live for. Adele and my five kids need me. I don’t want to die. Please, don’t let me die!

A pain erupted in his shoulder. “What the…? No, please, don’t do this.”

Yet another strike from his pursuant; this time the implement hit his right arm. He didn’t cry out, as much as he wanted to. He refused to give the stranger the satisfaction of knowing they’d hurt him. No, he carried on running, his breath catching in his throat every time the assailant struck. Another stab, this time in his back. With each strike, his legs grew weaker. He stumbled as his foot slithered into a pothole. He’d tried to avoid it, but his vision had blurred and failed him at the last minute.

Shit! I don’t have it in me to continue. I’m going to die! They’re relentless, I can’t make them stop. I have to make them see what they’re doing is wrong, but how?

He stopped running and held his hands out in front of him to ward off any further attack. It was futile. The person ran at him, yelled out and stabbed his upper body over and over with the ice pick. Intense pain ripped through his body. Dale’s legs buckled. He shook his head and stared up at the attacker standing over him.

“Please, tell me what I’ve done to deserve this?”

Instead of replying, the aggressor raised their arm and pounded the implement into his chest, over and over, each stab sending a searing heat through his upper torso.

“Don’t do this. I have five kids.