Timing is Everything - He wanted out, but was it too late?

Timing is Everything

Flash Fiction(296 words)

As I shifted the the old freight-liner down into first gear, pulling off for fuel, I wondered again what could be so valuable?  Posting an armed guard inside the trailer broke more rules than I could count.  This contract trucking business meant some odd contracts, but this one was by far the strangest I'd had yet.

"Fred, we need to find us a stable company to subcontract for." I said to my dog in the jump seat.

Shutting the old truck down, I started the pumps.  Thinking of the "passenger" in back, I hammered on the rig, hollering to see if he wanted anything.

He didn't answer.

Guessing he didn't hear me, I moved to the back of the trailer.  Flipping up the locks and swinging wide the door, I was overwhelmed; it smelled like somebody had died in there.

Hollering again, "Hey, you ok?  Can I get you something from the gas bar?"

Still no answer.

Fred had jumped down from the passenger seat and wandered over to see what I was up to.  As he joined me he bristled, growling menacingly.

Something was wrong.  I sighed, and pulling out my Maglite I jumped up into the trailer.

The blood was the first thing I saw.  Then the body that it had come from.  The last time I saw that body, it was alive.

I turned away in horror.  When I could speak again, I looked at Fred and asked, "Damn Fred, do you know what this means?"

Fred just looked on as the pumps kicked out.  Shutting up the trailer, and charging the fuel, I mounted up and we hit the road, I really had to get out of this business.  I just hope I'm not too late.