The tow-man

My obsession with serial killers’ continues in this thriller once again…

‘Fourteen girls have been killed in the last few months and we suspect a stout man behind these killings. Young ladies are expected to stay indoors at night…’ when I changed the radio frequency to play Savage Garden’s ‘I’ve been having difficulties keep to myself… feelings and emotions better when left upon the shelf…’ even as I crooned along.

I was driving across the old Mexican route no. 57. I had to cross the woods to reach to the other side of the country where the roads are pretty good. It was dark in the night and all of a sudden there was a downpour. I just reached a toll gate on the highway.
‘Ma’am, if you are driving through the woods, I would suggest you to rest tonight in the motel over there, as there are muddy swamps across the way. It’s possible that your car might get stuck in that’ said a man at the toll gate. And I looked around at the motel and then looked at my watch. It was 19:45 hrs.

‘Those two people have stopped for the night’, he said pointing to a stout man in front of his towing truck and another guy walking towards the motel after parking his car. I was a bit apprehensive about the stout man and so I decided not to stay. I thanked the man at the toll gate for his word of caution and started to drive along.

The rain slowly converted into a torrential downpour and almost made it impossible for me to see the old muddy road through the woods. I went on wiping the windshield from inside as the exhaled water vapours condensed on the inner side of the windshield.
Driving across these roads itself is a big pain and that too under these weather conditions and that too when I was cautioned, which still rang in my ears again and again. Perhaps I should have stayed back, I thought, when my car suddenly jerked and came to a halt.

I pressed on the accelerator, but it’s of no avail. One of the frontal powered wheels was stuck in a muddy swamp, and the tyre slipped in the mud allowing no grip. I opened the door covering myself with a coat and looked at the condition.
‘Shit, I am stuck here for the night’ I thought angrily even as I kicked the tyre. I am right now stuck in the middle of the woods amidst a heavy downpour and so I couldn’t even expect any help. I opened the pack of cigarettes and I started to light it when the flame was being put out by the wind.

‘This is hell.. shit...’ when a hand extended towards me with a lighter and the other hand trying to keep the flame alight. Even as I lit my cigarette I saw the other person with blood red eyes in the faint light of the flame and I fell back in fright. The stout man whom I have seen at the tollgate side motel pulled a crowbar from behind him and started to move in my direction.

I way lying on the muddy road and crawling backwards pleading, ‘Please don’t kill me… please’ when he lifted the crowbar and heaved it heavily onto…. the ground. And started to dig the mud from the side and pouring it back beneath the tyre. He then came with a metal rope and tied it to my car and started to pull it back with the towing truck.

After a few minutes of struggle I was out of the swamp and I continued my journey thanking him. His headlights slowly faded in the darkness even as I watched him through my rear view mirror.

After moving on the highway I could feel some metal being dragged by my car and so I pulled over. I could see the metal wire used by the tow-man to pull the car out from the mud. ‘He’s forgotten to collect this one’, I thought ‘I will return it to him at the motel when I am back’

My errand at the town was completed and I started to drive back. I decided not to risk this time and hence I was driving under the sun. I passed through the woods, the place where my car was stuck in the mud and I reached the toll gate when I alighted from my vehicle.

I walked towards the motel with the metal string in my hand and inquired about the stout man. The receptionist looked at me and said,’ I am sorry ma’am, are you talking about the towing truck driver’ and I nodded when he continued, ‘the truck driver, a stout man died yesterday evening because of a heart-attack around 20:00 hrs’

‘No way’, I screamed much to his surprise, when I said ‘He towed my car out of the swamp yesterday night’

‘That’s not possible’, he said, ‘the truck driver hasn’t left his room since yester night and today morning he was found dead, probably passed out due to a heart attack’, he explained.

I slowly started to walk out of the motel and I reached his truck. It was very clean. ‘Even if it was at the woods, there would have been mud and it would have looked like my car’ I thought looking at my car. I went to the toll gate and asked the man who cautioned me the previous night.

He too said the same thing. He hasn’t seen the tow-man moving out of the hotel.

And then I reached towards my car in disbelief and fright. ‘Then who saved me last night, where did I get this metal string from…’ when I saw the metal string in my hand and I threw it onto the ground with fright and I squirmed.

‘What happened next, where is the metallic string… when did this incident happen…’ so many questions were raised by the female audience when I finished my story.

‘The metallic string lies….’, I paused for a moment and then pointed my finger to a man sitting in one corner of the room. ‘The metallic string lies in the corner with that man’ I finished pointing to the tow-man sitting in the corner even as he proceeded to the door and bolted it before walking towards the audience. Gripping the metal string in his hand, he tightened it over the neck of the first victim even as she looked at me in despair and fright.

‘My obsession with the serial killer continues….’ As I finished the story.