The Driver Is Me

Murders must happen so often in Tundratown that unless it involves someone important they don't investigate. There was as much of my blood on them as theirs was on me, yet no police have bothered me about it! It's been like 3 months since their bodies washed up on a shore. I saw the news the next morning when they said 3 bodies had been found by Tundratown that day. The only details they gave about the bodies was their species. Not even a name. I left the wallets on the 2 guys I dumped, can't speak for the third one however.
     The healing process took about 4 weeks. I tried to go to work 2 days after the incident but the boss wanted a look under my bandages. The boss is very persuasive and once he saw the extent of my injuries he refused to let me work until I was better. He never asked why I was all jacked up or anything, just told me to go home until I could lift my arm without the assistance of the other arm. I was a bit delirious from blood loss when I went in so that didn't help matters. I never went to a hospital to get a transfusion or anything and that probably was bad, but bed rest and iron supplements kept me going I think.
     During the time I was out "sick" the company had been contracted for a job and finished it. I still got my cut from the job in the mail despite the fact I had nothing to do with the job, so I didn't say anything about it when I went back to work. Not much has happened at work since I've been back. Right now I'm putting in mounts for light switches at various heights. I'm not sure when we started doing interiors but it hasn't been to much hassle.
     I step down off the step ladder I was using to put in the high light switch mount and fold it up. It's quitting time for today so I walk outside and put the ladder in the tool trailer with the rest of the equipment.
 "Hey Yeshua!" Eddie shouts to me from over where everyone parks. "Wanna hang out with me, Jimmy, and Henry tonight?"
 "Sure! I have nothing going on tonight anyway" I reply as I get to my van, I see the paint over the old ZPD logo is almost completely chipped off. Suppose that's the kind of respray you get for $50.
"Cool! Meet us at 'The Cat's Tail' at like 8:30."
     I haven't actually hung out with any of my coworkers the whole time I've been working for this company. Except for the occasional company picnic I barely talk to anyone in person. Sometimes I'll hang out with Charles and get drunk, sometimes he'll bring yage for me if he has leftovers from his deals. It's always a good time with him, but we don't hang out that much since the ZPD stopped having to devote resources to hunting down those missing mammals from forever ago. Something about having to be more careful with his business.
     In what feels like no time I drive home. By the time I get in the house it's 7:30 so I toss my stuff on the nightstand by my bed and hop into the shower. Normally I'd spend about half an hour in the shower but I want to have some time to play some video games before I have to leave so I'm out in 20 minutes. Still somewhat wet I sit on the couch in my boxers with my new laptop I bought using a bonus from work. I go on EweTube watch videos of a guy reviewing poor quality products on a sofa.
    20 minutes later I close my laptop and get dressed. At 8:23 I get in my van and drive to 'The Cat's Tail', which takes like 10 minutes because I've rarely seen it. Finally I pull into the parking lot and step out of the van onto the cool asphalt of the parking lot. I quickly walk into the bar and am surprised by the sight of a mostly empty bar on a Saturday night. There is no one here but me, the bartender, and presumably the three guys from work. I spot the aforementioned coworkers in a corner booth. I waste no time taking in the atmosphere of the bar and join the three men at the booth.
     "Hello Yeshua, we were just talking about you" Eddie greets me with a smile. I notice that none of them have any drinks. "What about me were you discussing?" I question.
     "Just uhh, how you showed up to work a while ago looking like you belonged in the hospital. What was up with that?" "I don't want to talk about it."
     "Sure you don't" Henry says, "Hey barkeep! Get this guy something strong" he yells to the bartender.
"I'm not really looking to-" I try to tell Henry, but he cuts me off saying "You'll want to be a bit under for what we have to talk about". As the bartender sets my drink in front of me Jimmy asks "What happened to your ear Yeshua?" Eddie and Henry stare at him like he's done something wrong with his curiosity. "I got shot" I state firmly. Now they're staring at me so I tell them "It is a long story and it happened a long time ago".
     We sit there for at least 20 minutes, them talking amongst themselves while I down about 5 drinks. Right now I don't feel totally present and they can see it in me. "Yeshua we have a proposition for you" Eddie tells me. "I'm sorry, but I'm not drunk enough to swing that way". "No no no no, this isn't sex. You see, we're kinda in close with the boss and there's been this deer giving him all sorts of trouble. So what we need from you is for you to uhh..."
     "We want you to run him over" Jimmy blurts out. "What? This is a joke, no?" I say, tipsy and confused "God damnit Jimmy" Henry says, clearly pissed off. "No" Eddie sighs "this isn't a joke. We want you to hit him on the sidewalk and keep driving". "You cannot be serious. How would I even know where to go? How would I even get away with it?" I say in disbelief. "We have been thinking this through for a little while now," says Henry "he takes the same bus every night to go home at 9:20. Well, we've taken down the cameras in the area." "No way, I am not doing this." I say.
     "Yeshua we know that van of yours was stolen from the ZPD" Eddie tells me with a serious look on his face. "I do not know what you are talking about" I try to deflect the accusation in the weakest way possible, probably because of the alcohol in my system. "We noticed the ZPD logo under the crappy respray and we know that when the police department sells old vehicles, they get good paint jobs" Eddie elaborates.
     "Well guys, you've really got me by the balls" I sigh. "I'll do it." "Excellent, the guy will be waiting at a bus stop 5 blocks east" Eddie says. Then Henry pipes up and says "After you do this for us we'll give you a paint job that won't chip off." At this I stand up, shaking slightly, and walk out the door into the parking lot.
     I walk up to my van and place my paw on the cool, steel of the door. I stand for a moment, contemplating, before finally moving my paw up to the door handle and I open the door. I didn't lock the door but I took my keys with me so it's not like anyone could get it started. I slam the door and stick the key in the ignition. The engine starts without hassle and I pull out of the parking lot. As I start heading east I put my seatbelt on, I'm trying to keeps the deaths in this "accident" to 1.
      I can see the stop in the distance and can make out the blurry shape of a deer standing under a street lamp. Within a block of him I flip on the hi-beams, grip the steering wheel tightly, and slam the accelerator down. As I pass by the stop sign I swerve onto the sidewalk heading straight for him. He suddenly turns and stares at me barreling down upon him. His eyes seeming to bore into my head the whole time up until I hit him. When I hit him I hear the sound of bones breaking and a sharp yell as he falls under my van. I swerve back on the road and keep driving. I drive for about a mile while gradually slowing down.
     I finally pull over the truck on a back ground and climb out. I fall to my knees and puke onto the damp ground before standing up and walking around to the front of my van. The impact dented the bull bars slightly, more noticeable was the large blood splatter on the bumper and as I walk around back to the driver's seat I notice some blood on the inside of the wheel well. I get back in my van and turn down the hi-beams before starting my slow, careful drive home.


     I sit on my couch the next morning, waiting for the painkillers I took to numb the hangover from last night. Finally the story on the local news I've been waiting to hear. The reporter starts talking as the picture on screen switches to footage of the crime scene. "Police are currently investigating the hit-and-run of a Mr. John Deerna, who was hit by a suspected drunk driver around 9:10 P.M. last night. Unfortunately for investigators the street cameras in the area were offline last night for maintenance. The driver of the vehicle is currently unknown."
     "I did it" I say aloud to the empty house. "The driver is me."