Ramblings Of An Unquiet Mind

The Eve of Halloween

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He realised there had been several deaths on this road, but his concern rose when he saw the exact number.

"Maybe we should turn around, go back", Pete said as he eased his foot off the accelerator. This is the road, the one from all the newspaper articles from years ago. People who drive down this road are never seen again."

"That's just a myth, a legend, an old ghost tale," says Zack, looking over at Pete with a grin on his face. "Stop being such a woose. You believe everything you read because you are addicted to tales about people dying, being killed. It's playing with your head. Just keep going," he waves his hands in the forward motion, indicating he is keen for Pete to put his foot down and get on with it.

"Don't say I didn't warn you then," Pete accelerates the car up and heads down the road, which soon turns dark amongst the massive trees that line the road. So dark that he turns on the headlights to help him see where he is going. They soon see fog, drifting down upon the heavens, still not quite meeting the road, but blanketing the top of the car, and the temperature drops to where both boys can see their breath as they exhale.

"Jesus, put the heat on," Zack complains, his jaw chattering, and he rubs his arms vigorously, trying to keep his body heat moving. Pete looks over and smiles at Zack, then lets out a giggle that sends shivers down Zacks spine. "What are you laughing at? Zack asks, wondering what has gotten into his best friend of 15 years. "Look who's being all scaredy scared now. Just minutes ago, you were telling me that I was being crazy, now you look like you've seen a ghost."

Chills envelop Zack from head to toe. Memories flood his mind. Shadows descend and crowd around him. And then it hits him. Hard, and he imagines the pain from a kick in his solar plexus, a pain he cannot feel, but can recall what one felt like. His soul reminds him that this is not real. Not anymore. This is Remembrance Day. The day he died. The day his best friend Pete murdered him. On this very patch of road, on this very date, October 30th, the eve of Halloween.

Pete knows how many people have died on this road. Not because he read the articles in the newspaper clippings, but because he murdered them. Waited just a bit further down the road from where they are now. In the darkness, in the fog, car emergency lights flashing, waiting for the kindness of his prey to stop and ask if he needed help.

Zack was his very first victim, his rehearsal for the real events to come, he had said. And as he lay dying, Pete thanked Zack for his sacrifice. Thanked him for being the very best friend a person could ever hope for. As the blood bubbled up and sprayed forth from Zack's mouth, Pete held a small vial to the blood, trailing Zack's neck, capturing his life's blood. "I will always have you with me," Pete whispered in Zack's ear. "I will keep them all with me, forever. And on those days when I need to feel closer to you, I will take a very small amount upon my finger, taste your sweet life and remember how very special you were to me. They will all be special to me, Zacky."

Oh how Zack hates his Remembrance Day. Reliving this horrendous death over and over again, year after year. He wonders why this has to happen, but the answers are still out of his reach.

They are coming up to the bend now. Not much further to go, where Pete will start making the car jerk, like something has gone wrong, and slowly pull over to the side of the road.

They will then step out, Pete lifting the bonnet to check underneath, and Zack, once again, will step out to see if he can help.

What if he had never stepped out? Why can't he stop himself from stepping out? What would Pete have done then?

But he did. He did step out, he did offer to help.

As he rounded the side of the car, Pete glanced up and smiled at him. "Looks like we're cooked", and with that Pete's arm comes up. The one Zack couldn't see that he held at his side. The blade, long and lethal, does not glint in the light as it often does in the movies. It is way too dark for that, and the headlights from the car barely catch a glimpse as it swings down, towards Zack's neck. The sound is like a thud as it slices into the flesh. The blade catches and doesn't let go easily. Pete struggles to release it as Zack goes down on the ground, pulling both blade and Pete with him. Zack still remembers the motion of Pete's arms and hands as he wrestles to release the blade from Zack's wound. Zack doesn't overly remember the pain as the shock takes hold quickly. With the sound of wetness, the blade ejects Zack from its hold, and the blood flows more freely.

"It shouldn't take long," Pete says, stroking Zack's forehead. "I'm sorry. I had hoped it would have taken your head clean off. Ended it so you wouldn't feel any pain. That was going to be my gift to you, because I love you. The rest of them will suffer, of that I will be sure. Otherwise, where is the fun?"

As Zack lay dying, listening to Pete, he wondered how many would there be? How many people will fall under Pete's blade and the insanity within his soul? Why did Zack never see it?

The life drains slowly but surely. Pete sits and stares, wiping the blood from the blade onto Zack's jeans.
"Hurry up and go now, Zack," he says, like he's losing patience. "I can't be here when the next car comes. But soon Zack, soon, people will dread having to drive this road. They will pause, as we did, and wonder if they should turn around. But they won't. They will continue forward, come forward to me, and I'll be waiting.

Gradually, slowly, Zack's soul flies free. Away from the car, away from Pete, away from the memory of Lakers Lane. Until next year. Until the eve of Halloween, where Zack can relive it all over again, and again, and again, and again. Pete knows how many deaths have been on this road because he commits them. And Zack will forever be, his number one.