Road Noise: Short Stories To Thrill & Chill

By Belinda A. Allen

In the middle of the night after driving for hours, you anticipate arriving soon at your destination, but then something unexpected happens. You take a wrong turn, fog rolls in, and you are alone on the road. Road Noise: Stories To Thrill & Chill elicits the myriad emotions you experience as you careen, swerve, speed or glide along the road of life.

Chances are that you have encountered or will encounter strangeness on the road. Some out-of-the-ordinary situations affirm life and others create havoc to challenge your fears and expectations.

Road Noise: Stories To Thrill & Chill presents seventeen stories about people driving beyond their comfort zone into speculative territory where expected rules of the road and life no longer apply. Each story is a flash of contemporary fiction, horror, mystery, science fiction, thriller suspense, or magical realism that spin together road rage, bad drivers, strange roadside sights, carjackings, future societies, misunderstandings, murder, soccer moms, and freeway anxiety.

Reading Road Noise: Stories To Thrill & Chill will transport you to outrageous destinations, but only in your mind....maybe.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Belinda A. Allen
• Release date: Dec 8, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370091300

Belinda A. Allen

Belinda A. Allen enjoys writing stories and novels which begin in our day to day world and end in places or situations far beyond the ordinary. Road Noise: Stories To Thrill & Chill is Ms. Allen’s first collection of short stories.

Book preview

Road Noise Short Stories To Thrill and Chill

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are from the author’s imagination and are used solely as fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.

Trademarks of products or businesses used in this book are not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. No association with the corporations, businesses, or names is intended.

Copyright © 2016 Belinda A. Allen

Cover Art copyright © by Belinda A. Allen

Published by Belinda A. Allen at Smashwords

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission in writing from the author except in the case of brief quotations placed in articles and reviews. For information contact:

ZooloStar Books

P.O. Box 2270

Gilroy, CA 95021

[e-mail]

ISBN 9781370091300

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For Evan and Howard

Table of Contents

So Special

Carjack Artist

Take Flight

Road Warrior Repair

Flash Mob

Just Deserts

KayLynn

Road Noise

Just Shut Up And Drive

Special Delivery

Wrath And ViolenZ Twist And Turn

They Call Me Krazy

Have Therapy Will Travel

The Proxy

Tit For Tatt

The Cadet

The Blue House

With Thanks

About The Author

Social Media Connection

So Special

Joe, you know I hate to be late. Tell the driver to speed up, ordered the distinguished grey-haired man without looking up from his computer tablet. He continued surfing news sites from his seat in the limousine which transported him and his young, male assistant across the gritty city.

Yes, sir, replied Joseph from the car seat across from his boss. The suit-clad young man intermittently spoke into the wireless microphone that graced his ear.

Sir, there’s a traffic accident up ahead. The driver knows a short cut that skirts the jam-up. We can shave off time, but it will be off-route.

Tell him OK, just get me there by 3:00. The leader of the free world continued to absorb the ever changing images on his tablet device.

Sir, our crew has only been briefed about three alternative routes. I’m pretty sure the route he’s thinking of isn’t one of them. It’s way off the beaten track.

Just do it! I told the CEO of Arlis Corporation I’d give the speech at 3:00. Make sure we get there. On time! Even while raising his voice, his focus remained on the tablet’s images.

Hello, driver…. It’s a go. Just make sure the whole entourage gets there at least by 2:45. Joseph shut his eyes, as he said, Yes, I know. Don’t worry. If there are police, it’s no problem. We’ll take care of it. He opened his eyes to report to his boss, Sir, it’s all arranged. The driver assures me that we’ll be there by 2:45. No problem.

Joe, did you get a hold of the CEO of Ztilus Corporation about the luncheon tomorrow? His boss said while still viewing the tablet’s offerings.

Joseph responded to the bent-down head of the man he served, It’s all arranged. You’ll meet him at 11:45 tomorrow. Depart at 3:00 to board the plane to California. We’ve already scheduled your itinerary for three days in California.

Unexpectedly, his boss looked up fully into Joseph’s face and flashed his iconic smile. He said, Joe, you’re great, even though you’re a Stanford guy. What would I do without you?

Th..th…thank you. I greatly appreciate being able to work with you these last six months, Joseph stammered back.

It’s good you stepped up when that good-for-nothing jerk walked out, the photo-perfect smile collapsed into a nasty, snarl.

Joseph was about to reply except his boss turned away to become engrossed in his computer tablet still showing the most recent news coverage of his arrival in Baltimore.

As Joseph turned back to his tablet, he thought, I wonder how long I’ll last?

Except for the slight road noise outside the car, cold silence prevailed for another ten minutes. Abruptly, the car sped upward onto a steep freeway onramp. Traveling fast along the freeway, Joseph observed the city surrounding them; it was his first visit to this city of broken dreams. Yet, his boss barely glanced up, even after the limo climbed the ramp and provided an unobstructed view of the city.

Joe, get Senator Cash on the phone.

Yes, sir. Joseph anxiously waited on the phone hoping the Senator’s assistant would quickly answer. After a few seconds, he said into the phone, President Forthwright calling Senator Cash.

After about a minute on hold and receiving a glance from his boss, Joseph said, Sir, Senator Cash is on the other line. His aide is attempting to notify him of your call.

After a few seconds, Joseph handed the cell phone to his boss, Senator Cash on line.

The elder man grabbed the smartphone and barked, Bob, what’s this? You’re not running for re-election? Leaving to head up Gypal Corporation? Seems sudden…. After listening, he mumbled, Hmmm, that right? Well, you can count on me. Then, more animatedly, he said, Can I count on you before and after you go? Hearing a reply, he went back to barking, Good! Let me know of any changes, right? Let’s get together some time. OK, Bye.

He held out the phone to Joseph who had been attempting to avoid listening by looking at his tablet.

The President railed to no one in particular, What a fucking idiot! Resigning after a little scandal. Still can’t keep it in his pants. But, a new job at $42 million a year is not bad. Lemonade from lemons, my Dad used to say. Once you make it, you’re in. Know what I mean, Joe?

Yes, Sir, the young man responded.

What the…..! The elder man’s head turned suddenly to look out the right side window.

What? Joseph could see alarm on the face of the man everyone thought was unshakeable.

Some young punk in a yellow piece of shit car. Giving me…..Me! A gang sign. Joe! Tell the driver to speed up and get in the far right lane immediately!

Yes, sir! His assistant spoke into his microphone, the grasped the door rest and held on tight.

The car sped up and jerked sideways on the freeway.

Good, we lost him! President Forthwright’s face assumed a look of satisfaction. He continued to gaze out the windows.

Joseph sat silent, unsure of himself or what to say next. He resumed pretending to read his tablet.

What a bunch of morons….Joe, take a note. I want you to call the head of Ringsdorf Enterprises. Tell him he’s a moron who hires morons!

Uhhhh…. President Forthwright? I… don’t think the head of Ringsdorf will talk with me.

Hah! Joe! You’re right! And, if you were to call him a moron, I’d fire you!

Yes, sir. Joseph managed to produce a small smile.

Son of a bitch! The president’s gleeful face abruptly changed to a look of agitation.

Sir? The president’s assistant mirrored his boss’ agitation.

Tell our numbskull driver to take the next off ramp. Forthwright looked shaken, as he braced himself against his seat.

The driver says it’s too soon to get off the freeway.

You tell that idiot, get off the freeway. Now! He gesticulated with his free hand pointing at Joseph as his other hand gripped the car arm rest.

You saw him. Didn’t you, Joe? He inquired with a desperate look at his assistant.

I…, Joseph shrugged his shoulders.

President Forthwright had already turned away to look out the window. He was mumbling to himself quietly at first, then more loudly to no one in particular.

Driving that crappy car like he was going to ram into the side of my limo. People like that. Nothing left to lose. Don’t care ‘bout nobody or nothing ‘cept themselves. Danger to this country. Those low lifes just don’t give a shit, even his car’s vinyl top is torn. Then, the President turned excitedly to look out the back window and blurt out, Joe, look at that! He’s right behind us! You tell that driver to speed up! Then, jam on the brakes. Teach that know-nothing something…..

Uh, President Forthwright, Joseph said with an apologetic look on his face.

What!? Spit it out! The older man’s face was a tumult of fear and anger.

The limo driver is afraid he’ll cause an accident.

The President bent forward closer to his assistant and responded so forcefully that fine sprays of spit shot out from his mouth. Well, you tell that driver, if he doesn’t do it, he won’t have a job after today!

The assistant spoke into the microphone and listened to the driver’s reply. He reported, We have to turn. The road splits ahead. Which way do you want to turn?

Turn left. Tell that driver to shake the guy off our tail, the president ordered which reinforced his returning sense of being in control.

Uh, Sir. I’m sorry, which car….?

Tell him. To make. A quick right turn. Right here. Then, a left followed by another right. His face suddenly relaxed. He said, Good! We shook him off.

Uneasy, Joseph glanced away while he listened to his earphone, Sir, the driver is concerned we won’t make it to the Center on time.

Well, he damned well better get us there on time! No excuses, was said in-between puffs to light up a cigar.

With a hopeful look on his face, the young man coughed out, Would you mind if I roll down my window?

Joseph’s boss glared at him and kept smoking. He picked up his computer tablet. Without turning his head from reading it, he snapped off the cigar ash into the built-in ashtray.

The limo turned another corner into an almost deserted row house neighborhood. Vacant crumbling buildings surrounded the pock marked roads that it glided over.

Joseph unknowingly said out loud, Unbelievable….Look at this place….

Huh? What is it, Joe? The grey head lifted up to look at Joseph who stared out the window at the passing view.

I’m sorry to disturb you. It’s just that all of a sudden we turned a corner and this city changed completely. It looks devastated.

Charm City, that’s it’s nickname. It’s a shithole! More like Harm City. The President announced before he puffed noisily on his cigar.

It’s strange. This appears to be the center of the city, but it’s obviously almost abandoned.

Yeah…as it should be. No one in their right mind stays here, especially with the Peanut King gone. He smirked and said Murdaland, as he regarded the boarded up shop windows of buildings covered with graffiti. Ruined streets and sidewalks were populated with young people clustered here and there. A few elderly people and small children with their mothers walked down the sidewalks next to the formstone, sheaved row houses with their beautiful marble front steps.

Joseph thought to himself, This guy has absolutely no compassion. I heard he was tough, but….

Joe, pour me a scotch.

The built-in bar was hidden from view by an upholstered panel which Joseph dropped opened converting it into a mirrored minibar. Reflections of the passing decrepit street scenes flashed by like a backdrop in the mirror, as Joseph poured the Scotch into a highball glass. Joseph offered the amber-colored liquid to the President who took it without acknowledgement.

The odor of hard liquor filled the air causing Joseph to briefly reminisce about his childhood. But, he quickly squelched those memories with thoughts of his present circumstances. The impoverished neighborhood they were travelling through to reach the Arlis Center reminded him of his doubts about the man he used to revere.

After a few months assisting the president, Joseph discovered the real man from the carefully managed veneer of the legend. His political beliefs were shaken upon hearing the President’s real views and plans, so contrary to what he promised public audiences. In private discussions with his corporate supporters, his mentor agreed to support all their proposed legislation. Joseph knew that to do so, would dismantle every safeguard, community program, and economic incentive to keep jobs in the United States.

No one would ever believe him, if he told anyone what he was asked to do for his job. To himself, Joseph downplayed his disappointment and loss of faith in his idol. He had to protect his future knowing that his predecessor, who had been fired, was still unemployed. His boss toyed with people’s futures; all it took was one phone call to make or break a career.

Joseph remembered one of his former college friends enviously comment, Joseph, you’ve got it made. Wanting to reply, He’s a hypocrite, only out for himself. He plays his friends off each other. His marriage is a farce. I’m just his gopher pimp. Instead, he replied, Yeah, I’m so lucky.

Hey! Snap out of it! I need you to go over my speech with me, said his employer snapping his fingers at his assistant.

Joseph listened, nodding his head, as his boss sounded off about how the new Arlis Center would provide critical jobs and entertainment for the people of the city. All the while, Joseph knew the reality. The Center, funded by $200 million of the city’s redevelopment agency funds, was on the edge of the city, nowhere near its blighted neighborhoods. Joseph predicted that very few of the city’s residents would spend $200 a ticket for an evening of entertainment at the Center. And, worst of all, the Center created mostly part-time, seasonal jobs, not real employment with health benefits. He recalled the Center’s developers and political cronies laugh with the President that the subcontractors probably hired illegal workers to build it.

Joseph flashed back to his first political science class case study about the City of Bell, California. At the time, he couldn’t believe the Bell citizens were so unconscious and uninformed to keep voting for outright crooks. Now, as he listened to the president practice his speech, he understood completely how voters, usually a fraction of the population, could be duped.

Suddenly, his boss stopped speaking, then whispered, Wha…what?

Sir? His boss looked scared. Their entourage had stopped before an intersection instead of running the red lights. A group of school kids were crossing the intersection. But, the president was not looking at the kids; he was looking at the lane next to his window. Leaning back towards Joseph, he pointed at cars parked along the street.

Rivulets of perspiration streamed down his dark, brown face as he said, his voice tense and tight with fear, He caught up with us. You tell that driver, if he doesn’t put the pedal to the metal, I’ll go up there and do it myself!

Joseph did as he was told. And, so did the driver.

Hand me another shirt and undershirt, the sweaty, man demanded of his employee. In the brief time the assistant was on the phone, the President had removed his shirt. His body turned away slightly, the elder man was almost done removing his undershirt.

Joseph turned his face away, but not soon enough to miss the scars on his boss’s body. He knew his boss had only served as a clerk in the Air Force during the war.

Where did he get those scars? Joseph wondered.

Give me another scotch!

His boss looked hunted. Disturbed. Paranoid. As he looked back and forth out the limo windows.

Shall I call security? Joseph asked with a puzzled look at how the president began to hunch down below the window.

No. Just get me to the Center, he said. After a moment, he settled back into his seat with another drink in hand.

Soon, the street view opened wide with the Arlis Center looking like a monument. It was surrounded by a mass of people and cars. Joseph watched his boss transform into his confident and fearless self while they drove forward in the limo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Randolph Forthwright smiled and waved at the people surrounding his limo. He knew they were here to see and hear him. He thought, They love me!

Randolph saw a flash of yellow drive past. That young punk again.

Joe, tell security to look out for a black kid in a yellow Mercury Marquis with a torn up black vinyl top. He’s got a gangsta’ look: lots of bling, wearing an oversize T-shirt and baseball hat. Have him arrested; he’s a danger to me. And, wipe that look off’a your face!

Security surrounded the president, as he rushed from the limo to hurry through the back entrance of the Center’s kitchen. Suddenly, he glimpsed the kid sidling off through a side door.

Stopping suddenly and pointing at the side door, he told Joseph and his bodyguard, Open up that door and get that little shit out of there.

Standing still with trepidation, Randolph held his breath. His bodyguard drew his gun and walked to the door. With gun at the ready, the bodyguard opened the door, only to threaten a mop, bucket and broom. There were no other nearby doors.

Stunned, the bodyguard looked at Joseph who just shrugged. Without a care, Randolph walked on with the other guards around him. Getting to the stage, he looked at his watch which read exactly 2:58 p.m. He turned to Joseph and said, We’re late.

The CEO at the podium began his brief comments. Randolph readied himself. He heard his namesake music begin. The music that had defined him for the last five years welled up. He stepped forward to warmly shake the CEO’s hand. The applause of thousands of people filled the Center as millions of his citizens watched the live nationwide broadcast.

I give you… the…..President of the United States of America! His old friend loudly proclaimed.

President Forthwright flashed his typical on-air victory hand signal. The audience stood up from their seats shouting hurrahs. He beamed his handsome smile at the most beautiful women in the first few rows.

They love me! Nothing can replace this feeling. Not all the money I made over the years. Nothing.

President Forthwright glanced down at the first row where only his richest supporters or his potential conquests for the week were allowed to sit. He beamed his smile and waved to that sexy new pop star.

Note to self, tell Joe to be sure she is on Air Force One before I board. As he scanned the audience, his smile widened further. It abruptly folded into a tight grimace.

He was there. How could he have gotten past security? The young, black man was sitting in the front row leaning forward on his elbows. The punk was looking up at the President shaking his head No back and forth.

Who you think you is! The President heard the young man yell above the din of the audience. You think you is so special?! The kid’s voice was loud; he was close to the stage.

The President thought, All I need do is quiet down the audience. Then, he’ll shut up. If not, one of my men will take care of him.

The President looked up and re-beamed his smile and waved down the audience’s appreciation. Soon, only a few hecklers in the back could be heard. He knew his crew would take care of those guys. The kid in the front got quiet, too.

Thank you. Thank you. I’m grateful to be back in Baltimore to speak to you citizens of Baltimore and the people of the Nation. Another wave of audience appreciation rose up; the President waited for it to dissipate. He noticed that the kid remained standing.

He thought to himself, I’m not going to let that little prick shake me down. I’m not going to stoop down to his level. My crew will take him out.

My good friend, Andrew Carruthers, asked me to speak at the opening of this fantastic new Arlis Center. How could I turn him down? I grew up in Baltimore. This new Center is a show piece for how business helps our cities. Just think of the jobs it has created for Baltimore.

In the back of the audience, a heckler shouted, No, it isn’t! Arlis stole our money! Thief! Thief! Audience murmuring began as the heckler was dragged outside. One of the President’s supporters kicked the heckler in the side as he was dragged past. Another supporter spit on the heckler as he was thrown outside where the other protestors held signs that read, Arlis = Thieves; We Were Robbed; What Jobs?; Forthwright is Wrong!

Surprisingly, the kid in the front row said nothing; he stood with his arms clasped around his body, looking down, and shaking his head. The crotch of the young man’s loose, faded jeans hung down to his knees. A baggy T-shirt floated around his body.

Ignoring the kid, the President continued Driving through Baltimore today, I found myself in my old neighborhood…

Why’d ya’ll leave me behind? Yo! The kid started yelling and advancing forward to the stage. I looked ever’where for you! You think you is so special! Hah! You think you betta dan me!

The President briefly paused then kept on speaking louder. Thankfully, his secret service agents lined the front of the stage. They’ll take care of this skanky upstart.

But, his agents didn’t move.

Yo fulla yall self, man! Hooh, boy nigga!

The President saw a flash of metal at the boy’s hand. Why didn’t his agents see this?

His fear got the best of him Help! He’s got a gun! Get him! You fools! What are you waiting for?! The President’s cries flew out into the stunned quiet of the audience. His agents jumped on the stage to protect the President.

The President’s eyes widened in fear. He watched his agents do nothing to tackle the approaching man with the gun.

Dawg, what is you doin? You lef me behind….Wit’ nuthin! Nuthin! You forgot me. Lef me behind wi’ nuthin…

The President slumped down on the stage floor amid shouts of The President’s been shot! Call an ambulance! The din of the audience scrambling away from the stage echoed throughout the Center. The President lost consciousness after he heard, Now, I is wit’ yo. We’ed soldia’ be hustla’ togetha foreva!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months later, clouds of pink fragile petals from cherry trees floated amongst the gray concrete buildings in Washington, D.C. where the House of Representatives and the Senate had worked together under the leadership of the President to pass his Trust in America Omnibus legislation. The representatives and senators elected by slim margins in their home states formed a slight majority. It was just enough to barely pass this legislation to significantly dismantle the federal government. It would eliminate the minimum wage, food stamp program, the Environmental Protection Agency, Equal Opportunity Commission and the Consumer Financial Protection Commission, as well as the Federal Trade Commission. Informally, the Legislation was known as the Starve the Beast Omnibus Bill. Though less than 10% of the citizens of the Nation ever voted, this bill would affect the entire nation. All were waiting for the President to make history by signing the bill into law.

President Forthwright strode into the Oval Office amidst the flashes and hub-bub of the camera operators. He sat down with his assistants surrounding him. Seven ink pens had been carefully lined up for his use to sign each of the new bills stacked on the desk. The Omnibus bill which had created the newsworthiness of the occasion, waited mid-way in the pile. Picking up one of the special pens, he signed a new bill into law. He repeated the process three more times each time with a new pen.

The President paused and looked up as the Senate and House leaders who sponsored the Omnibus legislation started to walk towards his desk. The President knew they wanted the world to see them standing behind him while he signed the historic legislation. He mentioned something to Joseph who interrupted the politicians’ journey. Joseph heard them mumble that this was just like Forthwright to take sole credit and steal the limelight.

Looking directly into the cameras, the President said to the Nation I am the son of a poor neighborhood in Baltimore. My family included the people of the streets who looked out for me. I cannot forget all they did for me to survive….and thrive. Today will be historic, but… not for the reasons many here have planned it to be. Over the last few months, since my collapse and recovery in Baltimore, I have met with the various commissions, committees, politicians, small business owners, and citizens of our United States about this legislation. I considered all their views on what the consequences would or could be. After much evaluation and soul searching..…..I have decided to veto this bill.

A collective gasp filled the room. A few people lowered their heads and smiled. The television reporters spoke into their microphones informing their live audiences that this was truly an unexpected outcome.

Waiting for the shock to transform into attentiveness, the President surveyed the room and locked eyes with the respective leaders of the Senate and House. They played up their disappointment in their body language aimed at the President. The invited CEO’s of the international corporations that would benefit the most from the bill pushed through the crowd toward the politicians they had lobbied. The President watched all the histrionics being played out in front of him, but not to the citizens of the Nation who saw only the President on their television screens. His gaze fell on Joseph’s smiling face.

The President smiled back at Joseph. Looking into the cameras, President Forthwright began to explain why he turned his back on this legislation for which he had been the point man actively lobbying all to support.

Government serves our citizens to support healthy, safe communities and ensure that we, as a nation and as a community on this earth, have a future where ignorance, poverty, and gross disadvantages are eliminated.

The President paused speaking to look at the House and Senate leaders before he emphasized, I will do everything in my power to prevent an override of my veto. The party that I have so long been a part will continue to be my party. However, we have lost our roots. I will strive to regain all that my predecessors had fought so hard to provide our nation that this legislation which…… Using the special pen given him, the President vetoed the bill, I have just vetoed would have left our most vulnerable citizens and environments to become further disenfranchised and devastated.

"Further, my challenge to the Nation’s people, especially business owners and elected representatives, is that in one year I plan to sign an Omnibus legislation that will transform our