Arthur looked around the parking lot, he was alone. There was no sign of the other man or his truck. Arthur sighed in relief. But he was still shocked. He rolled up all the windows and locked his doors. He double-checked the lock, not any more stupidities now. If the killer returns the least, he can do is not welcome him with open doors.
Arthur was parched, his throat stung and his mouth was drying up. As if the man sucked all the moisture from Arthur and took it away with himself in his carpet. Arthur looked around the car for some water. He hastily tried to open the jammed glove box. His hands found chips packets, old receipts, and an empty Tropicana pack but no water. His throat was drying, shrinking, sticking to itself, all at once or maybe sealing up forever.
Then his eyes went to the gin bottle, there were some sips left still. Arthur knew it can make things worse but he still uncapped the bottle and chugged down the left-over gin. As he drank it, he felt his throat burning, face heating up and eyes moistening. His head felt heavier and buzzed like a beehive. But it was better than the choked up feeling he had earlier.
He wanted to turn on the ac, to open that door and take a fresh breath. But Arthur did not want to create any more trouble for himself. He did not want to give any signs, if the killer was still lurking around, waiting for Arthur to take one more wrong step and then he will have two bodies in that carpet. No Arthur did not want that.
"I should call 911" realised Arthur. Arthur took out his phone and pressed the three digits. A ring and his call were immediately connected. "Hello! This is 911, what's your emergency?" Arthur had a long list of emergencies; Arthur's mind swam through them all before finding an anchor. He was thrown out of his home, his family thinks he is a violent man, he had an impossible deadline for a novel, he was thirsty, really thirsty. Why was he thirsty? He thought for a second.
"Hello, what's your emergency," the operator asked again. "I think I have seen a murder" Arthur blurted out. "What's your location?" "I'm at the…" Arthur peeked through his window "parking lot, I'm at the parking lot" "Sir, you have to be more specific, which parking lot?"
The noise of revving engines, the light thumping of bass and the tyres skidding on the runway got into Arthur's ear. "At the… airport parking lot, when can you reach here?" asked Arthur. "Airport parking lot" repeated the operator. The operators don't take calls from the airport area very seriously. And they are not to be blamed.
High and drunk boys and girls have reported UFOs, A tsunami and even a purple T-rex that was chasing them to their deaths. "What exactly did you see, sir?" inquired the operator. "I saw hair and blood and the killer was blue," Arthur said sincerely as sincerely a drunk and scared to death man can speak.
"The killer was blue?" "Mm… he was wearing blue clothes, top to bottom". There was a hint of a giggle on the speaker then the operator asked again - "Did you see anybody get harmed? Arthur did not speak. "Was anybody asking for your help?" said the operator tired of being polite to these crazy airport crowds.
"No!" said Arthur, now doubting himself. "If we send a party there and there is no actual crime, you can be fined and arrested for giving false information to authorities" cautioned the operator. Arthur turned to the spot where the killer had parked his truck. Where he was pulling the carpet. The space looked normal. Almost boring. Grey concrete and faded yellow lines. There was nothing to testify what Arthur was speaking about.
Arthur then looked at his wallet, it was thin, not powerful enough to pay any fines at least not tonight. "Sir, do you want me to send an officer there?" Said the operator like a final warning to end this silly conversation. Arthur took a long breadth – "No" he said finally and cut the call.
Arthur decided to leave this parking lot and go someplace else. Arthur turned the ignition on. The engine came to life. The dark parking lot got illuminated by the car's headlight. If the killer was still here, he would know who saw him and who was his next target.
Arthur started his journey downward, taking every turn cautiously. "Should I go fast or slowly?" Arthur asked himself. If the Killer is still here in the parking lot, going fast makes sense. To get away from him as soon as possible. He would be alerted but at least Arthur would have a chance to run away. Provided his ill-maintained car did not give up half-retreat.
But if the killer himself was slowly leaving the premise, going fast would only mean running into the arms of your death. The killer can block Arthur's way and kill him. And Arthur was in no condition for rash driving. So, Arthur chooses to drive as slowly as possible and sneak out of this place.
Outside the road was a bit blocked by the party mob, the cars were parked in the middle. People were sitting on the ground and were hard to disperse. Normally, this would have irritated Arthur. But today this crowd gave him a sense of security.
The happy faces of these youngsters, something he was running away from when he left the town, were giving him relief right now. He was in no hurry to be out of this weird traffic jam. While Arthur patiently waited to find space to move ahead of his car, somebody knocked on his window.
The relief he was feeling turned into anxiety. Arthur turned his head and saw a blond girl standing by his window. Signalling him to roll down the window. Arthur stared at her confused. The girl waved a lemon soda bottle at him. Arthur was hesitant but he was thirsty too.
Arthur rolled down the window. The blond girl handed him the chilled bottle "Thank you for being nice!" She smiled. "Nobody has said that to me before," said Arthur opening the bottle. But the girl had already gone away dancing to the music.
Arthur felt the coolness expanding in him as he drank the sweet soda. The fresh air from the window helped too. Soon the crowd gave him space and he was able to get back on the highway. The music was fading, the lights dimming in the background.
Arthur stopped on the tri-section, one way was him home and on the other side were some motels he could spend the night in. Arthur knew Nadia would not let him in. The confidence that the crowd gave him was fading away. Arthur rolled up the window again. He turned his steering left and drove towards the motels.
Till a few miles, the motels were nice looking, and the cars parked outside them were better than Arthur's. So, Arthur kept driving past them. And also kept a lookout in his rear-view mirror for a truck that might be still following him. Arthur saw a wooden almost cracked signboard for a motel. The sign pointed towards a narrow offroad. A tiny light could be seen in that direction.
Arthur had no option but to take that rough road. He reached the motel; it was dark even the name of the motel was not visible. Arthur got down. The man on the counter was old but strong looking. His hair was all white but he looked muscular.
"Can I get a room?" asked Arthur. "20 dollars advance for 12 hours" replied the old man in his gruff voice. Arthur checked his pockets found a ten-dollar bill in his jeans and ten in his wallet. Arthur passed the crumpled notes through the little wood window. The man gave him the keys and pointed to the first room.
Arthur went into the room and closed the door securely behind him. He removed his shoes and fell on the bed without even bothering to turn on the lights. He passed out as his face touched the pillow.
He was in deep sleep when somebody started to bang on the door. Bang-bang-bang!!! Arthur woke with a jolt, he sat on his bed starring at the door. Bang-bang-bang!!!