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Lights Out -- Part Five

Updated on November 2, 2016

Lights out…

What is this guy trying to prove?

It’s dark in here…

I wonder if I’m going to run into one of those people.

They had blindfolds stitched to their faces…

I think I should try to get out of here, but he has that rifle…

The old Ford they were sitting inside of was full-throttle inside of the Lights Out Arena. The headlights have been turned off as ordered by Marcus. Walt could feel the traction slipping underneath the car as the bald tires struggled to grip the dirt. He wasn’t sure if he was going to hit one of those blindfolded people, but he really didn’t care. The only thing on his mind at the moment was the rifle pointed at him. Sure it was dark inside of this car, and he couldn’t see anything at all, but he could feel that rifle pointed at him. He knew that Marcus was over there in the passenger seat with that hideous smile on his face. He knew that those raisin teeth were not glinting in the night, but instead attracting flies as he leaves his mouth hanging open.

“Yee-haw! Way to go there Walt! I knew you were a damn good driver. But you only have a short amount of time before the round is over, so you better hope that you nail one of the suckers.” Marcus couldn’t be seen over there next to Walt, but he could be felt bouncing around in the seat. Maybe it was the way Walt was currently driving that made this mad man dance, or maybe the mad man was just so happy that this chaos was going on. Maybe he was happy that Walt was doing what he had told him to do. Maybe the blood lust inside of this individual was so great at the moment that he couldn’t contain himself any longer. He just had to dance to the sounds of the Ford engine roaring in the background, and for a second Walt could almost sense that Marcus had gripped the rifle with both hands. He could feel Marcus over there raising the rifle high above his own head in gleeful delight.

“YEE-HAW!” Marcus shouts.

The Ford skids around the arena left, and then right. Walt was sure that there was a lot of dirt hovering in the air from all of the drifting, but he couldn’t see it. His eyes strained to see anything outside of the windshield, anything at all, but he couldn’t even see the steering wheel in front of his face. His foot was pressing down on the gas pedal with a crushing force. He wanted to hit the brakes with his reflexes screaming at him to do so. A couple of times he had caught his foot sliding over to the brakes, but he had to stop it. There wasn’t any brakes for him, or for the people running around in the dark arena.

Where are they?

He tries to see them through the shroud of the dark, but he can’t. There is nothing that his eyes can see, and he knows that the only way he was going to find out where they were at, is when the Ford smacks into one of them. The thought of the car sliding through the dirt has entered his mind, the thought of the rear end catching one of the blindfolded runners in a crushing blow. He knew it wouldn’t be something that he would want to hear. He would hear the thud of the impact and maybe…

Maybe the sound of their bones breaking apart…

The crunch wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but then the car did hit something. He turns the wheel all of the way over toward the left when the rear end smashes into the wall. The mattresses had kept the car alive, and probably the occupants of the ride as well. The impact has caused them to come to a complete stop, and Walt sits there with his window rolled down. He can hear the scampering feet of the two blindfolded people out there in the dark. He can hear them running and shouting. He can hear one of them fall, it was the woman as she let out a small yelp, and then he heard the other jumping.

Why is he jumping?

It wasn’t clear at first why this guy would be jumping up and down in the dark, but then it dawned on Walt. The guy is jumping up and down because he is trying to escape. He is probably standing at a section of the arena wall trying to get a grip onto something above him. Something that he could grab onto so he could pull himself up… and escape.

If he gets away I’ll be shot!

“Walt,” Marcus said in a calm voice. “I don’t know what you are thinking about right now, but I do know that if you don’t get this car rolling again this game is going to be over.” Walt can feel the rifle tapping on his shoulder. By “over,” Marcus means that he is going to shoot him.

Walt let his ear focus on the jumping man. He listened for the feet hitting the dirt which gave him an accurate location of where the man was. He didn’t care about the woman at the moment, she wasn’t the one trying to leap over the wall. She could wait, and then Walt slams on the gas again sending the car forward into the dark.

“Round one is almost over Walt,” Marcus said.

Walt doesn’t respond as he keeps the car close to the wall. He knows that the jumping man is on the other side of the arena, and he knows that the man is close to the wall.

If I keep the car against the wall… I’ll get him.

That was a good plan, and one that would surly work if he manages to pull it off. All he has to do is keep the car close to the wall, it’s easy. The arena wall curves left as the car follows it around. The side of the vehicle is shredding the mattresses it travels past. At one point Walt heard a mattress fall from its position hitting the ground.

Outside of the car Walt could hear her…

“Run! He’s coming for you!” The blindfolded woman screamed.

She was in the middle of the arena, and now from her screaming Walt knew where she was at. His head looks in her direction through the darkness of the night. She was there, but right in front of him was the jumping man who has stopped jumping. His head cocks right when he hears the blindfolded woman screaming at him. He wasn’t paying attention to where the car was at, and now he knows how much of a mistake that was. He hears the roar of the Ford’s engine as it nears. He turns to run taking one step forward as the car smacks into his hip. The man is flung into the air and spins like a top that has been twirled. He lets out a horrid yell as his body lands on the hard dirt. As he lands he can’t help but to think, at least this ground wasn’t concrete.

“Yee-haw! You got him Walt! I bet he’s back there squirming all over the ground!”

Walt could feel Marcus dancing over there in the seat. On a few occasions the rifle had smacked into Walt’s arm.

“You are a sick man,” Walt said. “You know that don’t you?”

“Me? I’m not the one who just ran a guy down.”

And Marcus was right, but it wasn’t as if Walt really had a choice in the matter. He had to run the guy down, or get blown out of his shoes by the rifle.

The Ford has come to a stop again. After hitting the man in the hip Walt slammed on the brakes while turning the wheel hard left. The car skidded in a U-turn, and is now facing the opposite way. Walt’s foot is on the brakes, and he wonders how long it would be before Marcus tells him to go again. Maybe the last impact has bought him some time. Maybe Marcus wouldn’t force him to continue for a couple of minutes thereby giving him a break, and the two blindfolded people a break as well.

The man already has a nice break…

He shakes that thought away.

He listens through his rolled down window at the screams of anguish. He could hear the woman crying, and he could hear the man screaming.

“Would you listen to those two suffer,” Marcus said. Walt could almost sense that the guy was smiling. This guy was definitely sicker than himself. Walt always thought of himself as one of the worse human beings out there, but now he knows that there are worse. There is always someone that is worse than you. No matter how bad of a man you are, there is always somebody worse. And right now as he sits here in this dark car, he knows that Marcus is worse.

“I hear them,” Walt said.

“You know, if you were to hurry it up a bit I bet you could run that guy over. He is probably still over there holding his hip. Hah-hah.”

“Yeah, I bet I could.”

“Aw, come on man! You just ran a guy down with a car! You should be happier than that. With this being the first round and all, you have plenty of time to finish the both of them off.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Walt didn’t want to continue. He had that uncomfortable feeling in his gut that told him to get out of there. The only thing he really wanted to do was go home. He wanted to forget about it all. He wanted to forget about the drugs, forget about the money, forget about these two blindfolded people, and forget all about Marcus. Yes, he wanted to go home, lay down on the couch, and forget about it. But he knew that he wasn’t able to do that. There was no way he was going to get out of here without finishing the last two rounds. And it was going to come down to either those two people, or him.

A loud bell rings in the distance, the first round is over.

“You see Walt! You messed up. If you would have stepped on the gas you could have had that guy over there. Then you would have only had to worry about the woman. You’re an idiot!” Marcus lets out a sigh.

Walt wants to respond with anger. He wants to reach over there grabbing that rifle shoving it down Marcus’s throat. But he can’t.

Marcus leans out of the passenger side window.

He shouts.

“Turn them on!”

And the lights inside of the arena come to life.

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