I know you must be wondering what happened to Sam and the driver. But if you missed the first part of the story, you can read it here. The story continues.
“Are you sick?” Sam blasted at the driver as he reached for the wheel.
“No, why don’t you let me touch yours instead?”
“What kind of a sick game is this?”
“No, it’s not a game. At least not for me.”
“I demand you stop and let me out of this car now!” Sam screeched but his words fell on deaf ears.
He tried to open the door again but it was still locked. Beads of sweat started running down his face. If the man seated next to him was both a pervert and perhaps a serial killer too, then this would not be the time to be in panic mode. He had to act fast. It was either his life or this man’s life. One or the other. He immediately got hold of the wheel to get the driver off balance then tried to reach for a knob that would unlock the door.
The car suddenly veered off the road as the two men struggled for control of the wheel. Men have a thing for control but in this case, Sam needed to overpower this goon. They struggled for a while, and Sam unexpectedly felt something sharp pierce through his belly. He settled back on his seat and caught a glimpse of what looked like a penknife. The driver had stabbed him. Lucky for Sam it wasn’t deep. He pulled it out without second thoughts, he gave the driver a taste of his own medicine. He stabbed him severally on different parts of his body; neck, stomach, back, hands, anywhere he could reach. At that very moment, the car hit a tree and came to a sudden halt. Sam had finally gotten some bit of control. But did he really?
As if in a trance, Sam saw his life flash before him. It almost felt like a scene in a movie. He recalled all the bad things he had done like that time he conned one of his friend’s some money. And even though he had come clean later, their friendship had never been the same again. He then thought about having a wife and what waking up next to her would feel like. He thought about his parents back in shagz and wondered why he hadn’t done much for them yet he was their firstborn.
“Ooh God, what did I get myself into?” he felt helpless.
He slowly got out of the vehicle and took his phone and called Josh. As he waited for him to pick up, he felt something on his back. He tried to reach his hand to feel what it was but he touched someone’s hand. He turned immediately and saw the driver with a gun pointed at him. He thought he had killed him but clearly, he was wrong.
Sam’s heart skipped a beat as he came face to face with death. This was the first time he had come close to kissing death. But if he was to pick his choice of kicking the bucket, he definitely wouldn’t go for biting the bullet. He would rather die in his sleep which is far more peaceful and less dramatic. And if his mother heard how he died, it would send her to her grave too. She would wonder kwani her son had made how many enemies in his life for him to die like a dog? So no! He wasn’t going to bite the bullet.
“Hello… Hello… Bro are you there?” Josh spoke on the other end of the line.
“Come on man don’t shoot me. Please”, Sam pleaded with the driver as he lowered his phone from his ear and hoped that Josh figured he was in trouble and he needed help.
“Why do you have to be so dramatic? Look at what you’ve done?” the driver shouted as he pressed his hand on his bleeding neck. “We didn’t have to come to this. You should have let me touch you or you touch me. No big deal.”
“Wait a minute. How could I not recognize you? I know I have seen this face before. You are the man being haunted by the police.”
It took Josh some time to figure that his friend was in trouble. But when he finally did, he called the police from his other phone. And the search for his friend began as the police tried to track his phone.
“Take off your clothes now!” the driver demanded.
“Come on man. Let’s not do this.”
“Ok. Then prepare to die. Either way, I will still do what I want to do with your body even after I kill you.”
Sam carefully put his phone on the dusty ground and hoped his call with Josh was still ongoing. He took his coat off and threw it down. He pretended to loosen his belt, as he calculated how he would ambush the psychotic man who stood before him. He suddenly punched him in the face and sent him to the ground. He then leaned over and tried to reach for the gun that was still in the driver’s hand. The two were at it again, trying to have control this time for the gun.
The driver overpowered Sam and was in control of the gun. He hurriedly jumped up and pointed the gun at Sam who was still on the ground. He demanded Sam takes his clothes off again. This time Sam knew better than not to comply. He took his pants off and was left in his boxers. He took his shirt and vest off too.
The driver started rubbing his crotch again. Sam took another chance and pounced on the driver. He was more determined to get hold of the gun. They both landed on the ground and Sam knew how to overpower him. He hit the man severally on his bleeding neck. The driver laid on the ground almost lifeless as Sam grabbed his clothes and put them on. He reached for his phone that was still on the ground and realized his call with Josh had ended. He called the police then afterwards called Josh again.
The gun was on the dusty ground when Sam started running away from the scene. He suddenly heard a shot fired and he turned and saw the driver lying in a pool of blood. He had killed himself. No one would ever know why he did it. But that horrific image stuck with Sam.
The police arrived at the scene and requested Sam to go down to the police station with them to record his statement. His friend Josh who had also come to the scene accompanied him. Later that afternoon Josh took Sam back to his house. It was then that Sam remembered he was going for an interview. He wanted to call and pass his apologies for not showing up but he didn’t have the strength. Josh left Sam’s house shortly after they had arrived and promised to be back in the evening or the following day to check on him.
After Josh left, Sam sat at the corner of his small room with his head buried between his folded knees to cover his wet face. He had been there for a while. It was getting dark. He didn’t want to go to bed despite the cold floor. But it wasn’t as cold as what had happened. He nonetheless pushed his feeble feet to be upstanding and thought about going to bed but changed his mind. He instead took his clothes off and laid on the frozen floor. He closed his eyes as if to shut out the horrible episode he badly wanted to erase. He started sobbing again say for this time, more desperately.
The night got darker and frosty. The chill of the night smote his body and he felt a sudden numbing engulf him. He should have kept his clothes on. But he didn’t want that suit on his body. He felt dirty. Unworthy. He slowly got up and headed to bed. He stepped on the pieces of the broken glass that were on the floor. He didn’t care if they’d cut his feet. His heart, body and soul were already cut and bruised so what more could tiny pieces of broken glass do to him? He covered his naked self under the covers of his sheets and was back to sobbing.