Wilson looked into the creek bed.
The man smiled. “Pretty gruesome, wouldn’t you say?”
Wilson looked away, flashes of blood and sounds of thunder echoed in his brain. There were other objects in the flashes, but the blood was all the he could identify.
“Back to the barn,” Wilson said.
“You realize that what you did today will be nothing compared to what I did?” the man said. “They’ll remember Jason Zachary, but they won’t even know who caught him.”
“If it means anything to you, Jason,” Wilson said. “I don’t even know.”
“Like, what do you mean?” Jason said.
“It will be one of life’s little mysteries among many you will never know,” Wilson said.
Jason hobbled back to the front of the barn followed by Wilson holding the rifle on him.
“Get on your knees with you hands behind you head,” Wilson commanded.
Jason grimaced as he assumed the position.
“I’m going to save everyone a lot of time and money,” Wilson said as he held the rifle inches from Jason’s head.
“Oh god!” Jason cried out. “Please don’t kill me! Please, please, please don‘t kill me. God help, please help.”
Wilson stood back. Something passed through is brain as sure as the bullet that was about to pass through Jason’s. A terrible sound echoed. Wilson’s eyes darted back and forth. He backed away further and vomited.
“You can’t take it, can you, man,” Jason said gleefully. “Not everybody’s made for what I do.”
“Don’t fool yourself, Jason,” Wilson said. “I can do it. I just had a bad burrito a couple of hours ago and all this excitement has given me a little upset stomach.”
Wilson grabbed some bailing twine from inside the barn. He pushed Jason face down to the ground and bound his feet. He went to the gas tank and found an unlocked padlock. He unloosened a chain from a gate and walked back to Jason.
“Now squirm over to the pole next to the barn door,” Wilson said motioning with the rifle. “And sit against it.”
Once Jason sat against the pole Wilson strung the chain around his neck and the pole and locked it with the padlock.
“What are you going to do with me?” Jason said.
Wilson tied Jason’s hands in front of him with baling twine. He pumped a five gallon can full of gasoline and hoisted it into the bed of the pickup truck.
Wilson looked inside the cab of the truck and turned to Jason. “Farmers, trusting folks, the keys are in the ignition.”
Wilson walked to where Jason was bound. He emptied the rifle of the ammunition. He placed one round back into the rifle.
Wilson stooped and got close to Jason. “Now listen, Jason, you are the one who controls your destiny. If they take you to trial they’ll say all kinds of things about you and you will hear them all. They will say you aren’t smart, easily led, and insane, but you and I know that’s not true. From here on out the media and law enforcement will portray you as a looser. You’ll be in prison the rest of your life with losers. You will become one of many. You will no longer have control.”
Wilson placed one shell back in the chamber of the rifle and placed the rifle at Jason’s feet. He stood. “You know what to do, boy. Be a legend.”
Wilson drove away and just as he reached the main road a single gunshot echoed over the bucolic landscape. He breathed deep and drove the truck back to his car and emptied the five gallons of gas into his car.