Day 355 – Thirty Minutes Or It’s Free – YouChallenge Short Story

Lost in a haze of darkness, this blog, these stories are my only escape, reclaiming what was mine.

The second YouChallenge was to tell a story about a panicked delivery driver who raced down the street. The original story it was taken from was called Thirty Minutes Or It’s Free, which appeared in issue 432 of Fear In Fear Magazine, you can read it HERE.

 

Thirty Minutes Or It’s Free

“Stupid fucking speed zones,” he growls to himself as he turns the bikes throttle, sending it back onto one wheel as the back tire shreads itself against the tar of the road, his eyes shoot open wide, and his grip tightens as the bike twists and turns, sending him careering wildly across the busy street.

Frantically he tries to push the bike down, but all he manages to do is jerk it to the left, onto the footpath. Screams fill his ears, as people dive left and right, trying to get out of the bikes way, he squints his eyes in sympathy as he feels the bikes impact, as it rides over some not so lucky pedestrians, who didn’t get out of the way in time.

“Fucking come on!” He grimaces through clenched teeth as he forces the bike back out onto the road and shifts all his weight to the front, bringing the front wheel back to the tar, then slams on the breaks. Nervously he casts a quick glance over his shoulder and swallows a mouthful of dry, razor sharp air, as all eyes, eyes filled with rage, stare towards him.

“Your dead meat boy,” a voice growls from in front of him, he feels hands grab the bike, and then more, grab him.

“You don’t understand, it’s not my fault, I swear, it’s the bikes, there’s something wrong with it, it’s like it’s possessed, all I wanted to do was deliver a fucking pizza, I swear, it’s not even my FUCKING bike!” He screams as he’s pulled from the bike and thrown to the ground.

“Sure kid, it was all the bike, you had nothing to do with it, do I look that stupid?” A large, brute of a man says standing above him, he shrugs his shoulders and twists his lip.

“I dunno, maybe, but I swe….” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as the large man drives a boot into his head, not once but twice, then clenches his fists together, as the bikes engine roars to life. The man freezes in place and peers cautiously over towards the bike, as sweat runs down his brow the bike smashes into his face at full throttle.

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