The Death Trap

         The distant, yet peaceful sunset mixed with the sounds of the wild desert and drifted into the open windows of a lone RV. The owner sat at his lighted desk in a smoky bedroom and wrote on a hand drawn map of his property with a cigarette in his left hand. Skull and crossbones symbols scattered the boundary of the map, but a particular section was flooded with them. Suddenly, a pack of coyotes caught his attention as they howled constantly. Someone or something was out there. Uneasily, he released the grip he had on the mechanical pencil then put out his cigarette. His sandy brown hair swayed as he rose to his feet to investigate. In a rush, he strode through the bathroom, down the small hallway into the dining and living room area with the driver section just beyond the door. As he flung the door open, his tall frame leaned out into the evening air as he scanned area. Far away, he noticed something move on the horizon. His sharp green eyes zeroed in on the figure.

         “What the hell?” He went back inside and grabbed a desert camouflage backpack. “Just what I need . . . visitors.” With one last glance around the area, he remembered his map, collected it, then put it inside his jacket just before he ran out to meet the figure.

         As he neared the figure, it took on the shape of a man. Upon closer examination, the man wore a suit. However, the man walked with a limp and it sent an ominous sensation through his body. The stranger’s hair and clothes were a mess with splotches of dirt all over him. The man didn’t seem to be aware of his surroundings. Nonetheless, David wanted to know and continued toward the figure.

         Once he was in hearing range, he shouted, “Hello. Who are you?”

         The man didn’t answer, but kept walking.

         “Do you need help?”

         The man collapsed.

         David gathered his energy and picked up speed then slid to a halt beside the fallen stranger, because he feared it was an animal attack. “Can you hear me?” He asked as he removed his backpack and grabbed a flashlight.

         Before he could check the man’s vital signs, the stranger gripped his arm. The man’s eyes were wide and out of focus. Hoarsely, the injured man whispered, “Suff . . . o . . . ca . . . tion.”

         “You’re suffocating?”

         The man barely managed a nod and winced as the flashlight lit his face.

         “I’m not a doctor,” David said as he opened his cell phone to dial 911.

         “No.” The stranger tried to shake his head. “No . . . help. They . . . will . . . come . . . for . . . you . . . too.” Again, the dying man objected and tried to take the cell phone. “Run.” Out of breath, he added hoarsely as he ceased to struggle, “He . . . comes.”

         Convinced the man was out of his mind, he waited for someone to answer.

         “911, may I help you?”

         “Yes, a man thinks he’s suffocating.”

         There was a short pause. “Can you see the object?”

         “There is nothing in his throat or nose that I can see. He can speak just fine. Well, there’s something obviously wrong, but he can talk.”

         “Then how is he suffocating?” the lady asked.

         “I’m as confused as you are.”

         The man struggled once more to reach for David’s cell phone again. “Not . . . human.”

         “Uhm, I think he just said he’s not human.”

         “No need to worry.” A man’s voice replaced the woman’s voice and said, “He will be fine.”

         Instinctively, David hung up. Confused, he whispered, “David, welcome to the weirding hour.” To the stranger, he asked, “Who . . . what are you?”

         “Run . . . and . . . hide,” was the last thing the stranger managed to say before he stopped breathing.

         Not about to wait around, David grabbed his backpack, left the man and ran toward his RV. When he noticed the coyotes were eerily quiet and sensed rather than felt a sudden change in the atmosphere, he quickly took in the details of his surroundings. His RV was in the middle of the open valley. On his left were large rocky hills, but only open spaces on his right. The realization of vulnerability sank in and he came to a dead stop then detoured toward the hills on his left as fast as he could. Whatever was out there, he didn’t want to meet it. Nevertheless, if he had to, he didn’t intend to play games. He debated if the stranger was insane or spoke the truth as he tried to gain distance. As he disappeared over the top of the hill, he glanced back and noticed several specks on the horizon. It was possible the stranger might not have been crazy after all.

         Something shattered or ricocheted on the rock behind him, he wasn’t completely sure which. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he whispered as he ran toward his destination with everything he had. Swiftly, he calculated the long distance of their shots against his short ones with the gun he pulled from his jacket. Then he added the distance he needed to cover to reach his destination, but their speed was an unknown variable. “Damn.” He knew he wouldn’t make it to his destination unless he could reach the rapids. It was a risk he had to take.

         As he dodged the spotted vegetation on the rocky landscape, he wished he knew what they shot at him. For nearly an hour, he struggled not to look back, but felt himself begin to slow down. He pleaded with his body to keep going, but his legs grew heavy with each step until his foot twisted on a rock and threw him off balance. He rolled, battered by brush, cacti and rocks. Fearful of exposure, he swallowed the painful shouts with each impact. Curses were on the tip of his tongue at his stupidity. For a single minute, he lay still to regain lost energy then a salty scent reached his nostrils and gave him hope.

         Quietly, he removed his backpack and found a small gray box with a single button then closed it before he jumped to his feet as quickly as his battered body would allow. Briefly, he fidgeted with the small metal box until a dull red light flashed. He pressed the button with his left thumb as he struggled to run. A shot rang out then something shattered a short distance in front of him, but it was too dark to make out what it was. Without a glance behind, he knew whoever was after him managed to gain considerable ground. Fleetingly, he considered surrender, but quickly brushed it aside. He could hear the sound of the rushing river and determined it was only a few yards away. Once he was in it, he hoped it would carry him toward his destination.

         Something breezed past his arm a split second before he dove into the cold river. When his feet left the ground, he knew whoever was after him was too fast for him to lose. Instinctively, he wanted to inhale because of the shock of the cool water. In his mind, he calculated the speed of the river, the distance he needed to be and the fact that he had no time to accomplish his original plan as he fought the urge to rush to the surface. There would be no escape. Vaguely, he heard a shot and knew something entered the water a few feet from him. Even with the cover of the night, they knew exactly where he was.

         As he swam, he became aware that he needed air. There was no other choice but to chance a brief surface gasp as his body went downstream. David swam with the current to try to gain speed and pushed himself upwards. As he exited the water and gulped a large amount of air, he turned and noticed the enemy silhouetted by the moonlight on the bank and somehow was able to keep up. Several strange weapons aimed at him made him lift his hand to reveal the box to buy time as he went back under water. In that moment, he said a silent prayer and prayed for time. Just a few more minutes were all he needed, but seconds, he was sure was all he had. He dove deeper towards the rocks as muffled shots reached his ears. Something nearly hit him. As something breezed past his head, he accidentally caught it when his hand pushed through the water. It felt like a dart. Concerned that the tip was poisoned, he released it.

         The enemy appeared to have paused in their shooting pursuit, unsure they hit their target, he guessed. Now was his opportunity and he got closer to the shore on the opposite side then jumped out of the water onto the land. He barely had time to turn around when sharp needle like points bombarded his body from his neck down. David’s eyes looked across to the other side as the poison rushed through his system at such an alarming rate that he barely managed a smile for his enemy as his fingers relaxed. The small metal box fell out of his hand and flashed a red light twice before their surroundings exploded and lit up the sky for several miles.



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