Deer!

Jonathan Prouty is a driver's helper to Anthony, the Mob Boss's cousin. They are on a late evening run back to Chicago with a load of booze to distribute in the City when they hit a deer...

DEER!

They picked up fuel and mule in Morris; Anthony hung a left and pointed the truck north pushing it to the limit. He was working the wheel back and forth keeping the truck from wandering off the road. 

“F*****g lizard.”

Jonathan looked at him. “Why you call it a lizard?”

“Cause it weaves all over the damn road.”

Jonathan stopped himself from asking the next question. Fearing that it would open him to ridicule.

“You don’t know what a f*****g lizard is do ya?”

“We got time to grab some food at the diner up the road?” A feeble attempt on Jonathan’s part to change the subject.

“F**k that, you don’t know.”

“I don’t give a s**t.”

“It ain’t a big deal that ya don’t know. Ya ever been to Italy?”

“No.”

“Well, see if ya ain’t been to a place that has lizards then how would ya know what one was?”

Jonathan was nodding his head in agreement and a little nervous that Anthony seemed to be interested in teaching without giving him s**t.

“Back in my home town we had these mini-a-ture monsters that crawled around our vineyard everywhere. Like cockroaches but better looking.”

“Nasty brown things?”

“Nah, green mostly. Though they could be brown. They could change their color to match their surrounding. We called them casa geco.”

“Casa geek-o?”

“Close enough for a f*****g Ukrain.”

“So why call the truck a lizard.”

“Well the lizards back home never ran in a straight line. Always weaving back and forth. They were nearly impossible to catch.”

“Why the f**k would you wanna catch them?”

“Throw ‘em in the fire for good luck.”

Jonathan was no stranger to superstitions. His Mother used to spit and turn around three times anytime she learned that someone had died.

Anthony kept explaining. “This f*****g Tin Lizzy pretty much runs the same way as them lizards.”

Jonathan nodded. He had heard people refer to the Fords as Tin Lizzy. Anthony had put his own spin on it. 

“So, we gonna stop for food or what?”

“Nope, I gotta get this s**t delivered fast. Got some bidness to tend to tonight.”

“You tend to bidness every night. And, I’m starvin.”

“Yeah, well this ain’t the sexual kinda bidness kid, so you, he pointed at Jonathan, go f****n hungry.”

Jonathan clammed up. He was letting this new information roll around in his head; wondering why Anthony had told him about a business deal that seemed to be outside the family.

Anthony was jiggling the throttle, trying to get more speed out of the truck as it careened down a hill. 

Jonathan turned his eye off the road and asked “Anything I can do to help?”

The truck caught the edge of the pavement and with a jerk bounced causing Anthony to fight it as the tires kicked up dirt and stones fighting him back. Anthony was working the wheel back and forth urging the lizard back on the pavement. A second bounce and he righted the course. He turned to Jonathan and opened his mouth to speak…

Nothing came out.

There was no warning; just a loud thud. 

“F**k!” Anthony found his tongue.

The lizard was now moving sideways, then backwards, and now forward. Anthony shoved the break down. Dropped the throttle, pulled back on the hand brake the lizard truck seemed to be traveling on it’s own doing the opposite of what ever correction Anthony attempted.

Jonathan, holding on to the top of the wind screen was watching his world, as it seemed to slow down… He watched trees approach and recede, as the truck spun. Then he saw a flash of white. The flag; at the same time the truck tires caught traction on the pavement. Now the truck was redirected… Directly toward the woods. 

Jonathan pointed at the deer as it leaped over the ditch.

Anthony, in a last effort, tried to force the lizard into reverse while whipping the wheel frantically back and forth.

In an instant the front of the truck moved into the underbrush of the woods and slammed into a tree stopping dead.

Jonathan felt the sensation, but could not comprehend his circumstances. He narrowly missed a tree went a*s over tit and landed on his face in the dirt. There was no air in his lungs and his mind, disoriented, shut down. Blackness engulfed him.

On impact, Anthony's body collapsed forward, the steering wheel bent under the force, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, Anthony’s body whipped back creating a skull shaped dent in the metal behind him, splitting open the skin letting blood spill on the seat.

Silence, time stopped.

Jonathan regained consciousness and pulled his face from where the force of impact had planted it on the opposite side of the ditch. He struggled to get his legs underneath him simultaneously attempting to get air into his lungs despite a spastic diaphragm. It was useless, his legs were like limp spaghetti and he grasped at his chest as he fell back into the dirt trying to force air into his lungs. The trees spun around in the night sky as he slapped his hand on the ground and let out a cough. Air started back into his lungs. Clawing to his knees, half bent over trying to get his brain to piece together what had just happened. He jerked his body upright and in a flash of memory he could see the tree he had flown by. It was then that he realized he was no longer in the truck. Instead, he was standing 10 feet away.

He coughed and called out. “Hey Anthony, you alright?”

He heard a wheezing cough from the cab and moved toward the drivers side having to step around the bloody remains of the deer that had become entangled in the fender.

Anthony’s head was leaned back against the rear of the cab.

Jonathan pulled his legs up to stand on the running board.

“Hey, how ya doin’ man?” 

Anthony coughed out the word “f**k.”

“Yeah f**k. Ya dun look so good man.”

“What happened?” Anthony’s head was motionless.

“Ya hit a f****n deer.”

Anthony grunted as he struggled to pull his head upright; slumping back with the exertion.

Jonathan reached in to grasp Anthony by the shoulders. “Can ya sit up?”

“I think so.” Anthony groaned in pain as he lifted his head and shoulders from the back of the truck. With a grunt he let his body slump over the steering wheel. 

“I’m alright.” Anthony let out a grunt as he leaned his body out the side of the truck to get a look at the fender. He coughed and rasped out “Can ya cut that f*****g thing out?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan retrieved the knife from his pocket, flipped it open and lifted the lifeless head pulling it taught so he could see where to make the first incision. Then with three swift cuts the tendon and muscle was cut, the head held by bone alone. The deer bled out under the truck; for Jonathan, it was like being back in the slaughterhouse. He gave a sharp twist to snap the bone and tossed the head into the woods. Next he grabbed at the legs untangling them from the axel he cut the skin around the mid section where it was caught under the front tire and grabbed the rear legs yanking the carcass out and throwing it into the woods. “All clear man.”

Through bleary eyes, Jonathan gained an unspoken nod of respect from Anthony.

“Lemme check the engine.” Jonathan pulled the engine panel up and looked over the engine nothing looked out of place, at least as far as he could see in the darkness. He walked around the front observing the tree size dent in the bumper.

He turned back to Anthony and was hit by the strong smell of alcohol; ducking his head underneath saw a pool building under the truck. “Damn.”

“What?” Anthony coughed.

“Loosing our booze.”

“F****n deer.”

“Hell yeah.”

Anthony placed both hands on the wheel getting his body straightened and started to reach for the hand break. It was like a wild fire was raging inside his chest. His hand fell limp, he fell back. “Damn.”

“You ain’t lookin too good Anthony.”

Anthony had his head resting against the steering wheel, wheezing out slow breaths clinging to life.

Jonathan stepped on the running board off the passenger side. He reached and grabbed Anthony by the armpit and leg. “Lemme help ya slide across the seat here.”

“No, no, what, you gonna do?”

Jonathan ignored the question and pulled the Anthony’s half limp body across the seat.

Anthony gave a loud moan and blood dripped from his mouth. 

“Sorry man. But, I think I’ll drive.” Jonathan jogged around checking the cargo, it looked secure, he shook his head thinking of the hell they were going to get from Mario. He stepped up on the running board and swung behind the wheel.

Anthony turned his eyes to Jonathan. “I may have ta kill you for that.”

“Yeah… sorry. S**t you got blood coming out your mouth.”

Anthony coughed and spat then wiped his lips with the cuff of his shirt, “that probably ain't good.”

“Ya think?”

“Look, you gonna haveta do something for me.”

“Yeah, what? Shoot ya and to put ya outta your misery?”

“F**k that, ya gotta meet a guy for me.” Anthony pulled an envelop from his pocket handing it to Jonathan. “You give him this.” Whatever ya do, don’t look in that envelop, don’t ask questions, ya got it?”

“Sure man, I’ll do that.” Jonathan folded the envelop and placed it in his front pocket. “How am I gonna know who to give it to?”

Go to the tavern on Clark and Wells. O’Malley’s. You tell the bar keep that I sent ya and you need to see Pete. He’ll point you to the guy. Got it?

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Good, get me the f**k outta here.”

Jonathan retarded the spark, set the throttle the four cylinders groaned back to life and started clattering like chickens in the yard. He released the brake which caused the lizard to lurch into the tree and killed the engine.

“You like bouncin off dat tree or what?” Anthony, even in pain was able to give him s**t.

“Least its not a goddamn deer.” Jonathan found the reverse gear he pulled the throttle full open and the truck sprang back to the road; Jonathan fighting at the wheel and punching his foot at the brake to maintain control.

“First f****n rate,” Anthony coughed out the backhand compliment, spitting a wad of blood on the floorboard.

The four cylinders settled back as he throttled down and found low gear. Jonathan had been watching, memorizing the foot movements and throttle settings in preparation for taking on a driving position. It paid off as he slid the truck into high gear and opened up the throttle getting reasonably smooth ride at 45 in no time.

“Look Anthony, how far do ya think we are from the City?”

“Uh, maybe 40 minutes.”

“I gotta get you to a hospital and I don't think it would be a good idea to pull up to county hospital with a truck full of broken booze bottles. Is there anywhere we can dump this?”

“Dump this? S**t man Johnny T kill ya if you dump this s**t.”

“What if we hid it?”

“Hid it where?” Anthony coughed and pain rocked through him as his broken ribs jabbed into the soft tissue of his lung.

Jonathan drove in silence thinking and watching the road. He slipped the throttle back a little as he entered a curve. Anthony shifted his leg to hit Jonathan's foot and motioned with his hand --- “don't be a p***y, keep the throttle open.”

Jonathan opened the throttle wide continuing to work the lopsided wheel to keep the truck from lurching into the ditch; the wounded lizard was weaving more than ever.

“What about that?” Jonathan was pointing to an abandoned restaurant set off the highway. He throttled down and pulled the truck off the road killing the one remaining headlamp as he rolled around to the back.

“We'll hide it in the back here and come get it tomorrow.” There was no response from the passenger seat. Anthony was unconscious, his breathing shallow as blood filled his chest cavity.

Jonathan got out of the truck inspecting the back of the building. A strong odor of rot hung in the air and water dripped from the back of the roof, even though it hadn’t rained in weeks. A carefully placed kick opened the back door. He went into the blackness and the odor doubled in strength. Worse than what he had encountered at the slaughterhouse. He placed his forearm over his mouth to breath. He stepped carefully in the darkness, listening as unseen rodents scurried from his footfalls. After his eyes acclimated to the dark he was able to find what he was looking for, a storage room. He gave a quick yank to the door knob and the spring swung it closed on his shoulder. He turned and grabbed a nearby crate to prop it open. After a quick scan of the room he went back to the truck to start the unloading.

Breathing like a rhino with his muscles cramping and straining he unloaded in record time creating a stack in the center of the storage room, setting the leaking cases off to one side.

Ten minutes after pulling off the road the truck was empty and he was stepping up on the running board. He looked over at Anthony and saw him slumped over. His head and shoulders resting on the seat and one arm dangling on the floorboard.

“S**t” Jonathan grabbed the arm and pulled Anthony upright. “Hey, you dead?”

Anthony coughed the wild fire caught inside his chest as his wheezing breath started again. The blood was making it impossible to breath. 

Anthony pulled at Jonathan’s sleeve, he had death in his eyes.

“Get me outta here.”