The cool night makes my piss steam as it trickles down into the ditch.  The silence on the road, and the complete blackness could be unnerving to some, but years of camping as a child have made it a preference to me. 

The hum and clunk of the van’s engine as I step back inside breaks the peace.  I sit in the front passenger seat.  The small lights of the instrument panel eerily illuminate the driver’s face. 

“Christ, how long were you holding that one for?”

“Since damn near yesterday.”

We whisper so as not to wake the others.

P.  D.  We’re off.  The headlights ghostily light the pavement as we cruise along the empty road.  I sit up front because I can’t sleep in a moving vehicle, and because I want to keep an eye on Mark, the driver, to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep at the wheel.

“So where are we going to hit tomorrow?”

“We’ll wait to see where we get by morning and make a plan then.”

We start to talk about the trip, that leads to life, that leads to women, that leads to why I’m in a van full of people I’ve only known for three weeks.  Don’t get me wrong; you get to know a lot about people when you’re with them for twenty-four hours a day for three weeks, but you still don’t know everything. 

The night wears on, and we share our lives.  I usually don’t believe what most people tell me, but Mark seems genuine.  His stories are just dull enough for me to trust they happened.  The stories are from real life, raw and unromanticized.  I share my life.  I enjoy telling tales.  I embellish here and there, but never to take away from the story, just to make my point that much more solid. 

Our lips whisper in delight satisfaction of honest lives, and the road goes on.  The road always goes on.

Our road has been empty up to this point, but now ahead we see hazard lights blinking a cautious red on the side of the road.  Dawn is going to be coming soon because the stars are beginning to disappear. 

“Should we pull over?”

“If you didn’t pull over you would never have met me.”

Mark signals and pulls behind the vehicle’s camper trailer.  He kills the engine and pulses the van’s signal lights. 

“If I’m not back in five minutes come see what’s going on.”

As I walk to the front of the vehicle I hear violence.  The lights of the van behind me shine steady and make me feel secure.  I come around the front of the vehicle.  There’s a man, an axe, crying children, and a deer fighting for life.

“Do you need any help?”

The man wielding the axe looks at me with tired eyes. 

“I don’t think I can do it.  I’ve never killed anything before.”

He’s been fighting with himself for courage, but can’t seem to find it.  He’s lost touch with his true instincts.  He’s been two, three, no, four times removed from his true element as a man.

I look at the deer, a noble buck.  Its front legs kick and fight trying to escape fate, as it drags its ass across the blood stained pavement.

“I just didn’t see it.  I looked down for a moment, and there it was.”

“Is your truck alright?”

“Yeah, just the grill got cracked.”

With each word we exchange the deer fights harder and harder to live.  I look at the man and gesture for the axe.  By this point Mark has come out.  He stands with the man and watches as I approach the animal.  The closer I get I can feel the fear of the stag.

“Shhhh…”

I stand before the kicking beast.  Snot snarls out of its nostrils.  I look back towards the headlights and see the haze of the men’s breath drift about their heads.  I raise the axe above my head.  I look at the deer’s eyes, aiming between them.  With all my force I swing down.  As the heavy blade drops the deer raises its antlers.  My hands rattle with shock as I swing through an antler and hit the pavement. 

I feel like a disgusting savage torturing an animal like a ritualistic pagan wanting to appease the gods.

When I look up the men are no longer looking at me.  I raise the axe again.  My muscles flex.

“I’m sorry.”

The kicking stops.  The road is silent again, but it isn’t peaceful.  The men help me drag the carcass off of the road.  I can feel the blood that’s splattered across my face and idiotically lick my lips.  It tastes of wild fear. 

My silhouette walks back towards the light.