I knew I wouldn't be able to get out through the parks one entry, kittycorner from Miller's house. Scrambling over another fence was asking for trouble, since all the noise of police and ambulances there was no question everyone on the block was awake.
At that moment my only comfort was the fact that since I hadn't been able to hold a job since my mom got sick, I'd been supporting myself through identity theft. They had my van and my fingerprints, but the van wasn't in my legal name and I'd never been charged with a crime. I'd never been finger-oh damn. Not only had my mother had me fingerprinted when I was a kid during the child abduction/molestation panic of the early eighties. These would have been the very police who did it.
That certainly made this a bit more urgent. I began to scramble around frantically looking for a way out. I found a shed and hid.
I was there long enough to doze off. I don't know why they didn't check there. Perhaps it was coincidence. Perhaps the local police are just that shockingly incompetent.
When I woke up it was completely dark and I was feeling pretty dizzy. I don't know why I slept so long, I suspect it was the open chemical fertilizer had some sort of effect on my brain.
There was a cop car patrolling the park, but I was able to evade them and sneak away. there were a few unfenced yards and empty lots I cut across. So it didn't take long til I was far enough away that it would be at least five blocks to a police car limited to the streets. I relaxed a bit but continued to try to put as much distance between the scene an myself.
I eventually found myself at the gas station by the freeway and decided that this was the best place I was likely to get a ride.
I had been hitching for about half an hour when a beat up Volkswagen Vanagon stopped. It was brown and probably twenty-five years old. It had several political bumper stickers that were far left liberal and one that said 'Human Milk for Human Babies' which I certainly agreed with. I definitely was opposed to wasting human milk on animals.
The driver was a girl of about twenty three. She was average looking. Which at twenty-three is quite pretty, but in a nondescript common way. When I was seated in the car I saw the clock said 11:20. If that was correct it was almost midnight. "Is this clock correct? I asked.
She glanced at it and said, "Yeah, give or take a few minutes. You runnin late?"
I knew then that I'd have to kill her to make my deadline. "No I'm on time still, but I'm cutting it pretty close. What's your name?"
"Free, Free Johnson."
Do you see what I did there? I titled it 'Barely Got Free.' So you, the reader, would think I meant I barely escaped the police. But actually I escaped the police almost ridiculously easily, and what I barely managed to do was make my kill before midnight. And the person I 'got' was a girl named Free.
I punched her in the face as hard as I could. I knocked her against the window, but she was not even near down. I just kept punching her as she swung at me blindly with her left arm. trying to hit me but also trying to make me move and spoil my aim.
After three solid punches to the face she had pulled over to the shoulder. She was still not out but she had stopped fighting. She was dazed, and quite aware that she couldn't beat me. She was biding her time while she decided her next move. "Why are you doing this?" She said as she sobbed.
"It's just your unlucky day," I said as I broke the knob off her gear shift and pulled her suddenly down upon the jagged spike of plastic and metal. She struggled as I lifted her off and slammed her back down. I swung her head up to the windshield then back down on the metal spear.
I hit her head on the dashboard, then again into the windshield. All this happened very quickly, but finally she passed out or fainted or went into shock. She stopped struggling and stopped fighting, and I was able to choke her to death before midnight. I then spent ten minutes with the car's lighter trying to mar any finger prints I left on her with criss crossing burnt circles.
I got back on the road and drove into the city. The broken shaft biting into my hand with each gear change. But as long as I was gentle and methodical it hurt but didn't quite break the skin.
I'm sure her repeated impacts dulled it from it's initial sharpness.
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