Chapter 5 eighth victim

My speed is almost eighty, but the road is long and flat, so it doesn't feel that fast. Sitting next to him was a red-haired kid, listening to the car radio, with bright eyes that were sly and wild.When the news finished, he turned the volume down. He wiped his mouth with his hand and said, "So far, they have found seven victims," ​​I nodded, "I was listening just now." I let go of the steering wheel with one hand and rubbed the back of my neck , Driving at high speed for a long time made me feel a little tired and nervous. He looked at me and smiled slyly: "Why are you nervous?"

My eyes flicked to him quickly: "No, why am I nervous?" There was a sly smile on the corner of the child's mouth: "Lukas have been set up on the fifty kilometers of roads around Edmonton." "I heard that too." The kid almost giggled. "He's too smart for them." I glanced at the zipper of the cloth bag on his lap: "Going far away?" He shrugged. "I don't know." The child was a little shorter than ordinary people, thin and about seventeen or eighteen years old, with a baby face, and his actual age might be four or five years older.

He wiped his hands on his trousers: "Haven't you considered why he did that?" My eyes kept on the road ahead: "No." He licked his lips: "Maybe, he was forced too much. He has been persecuted all his life, and there are always people ordering him to do something, or not to do something. If he is persecuted too hard, he Just ignore everything." The child said, his eyes fixed on the front, "He broke out, there is only so much a person can bear, and then there will be a perverted one as a punching bag." I ease off the gas pedal. He looked at me with confusion, "What are you slowing down for?"

"I'm running low on gasoline," I said. "The gas station in front of me is the first one I've seen in the forty kilometers. I may have to run forty kilometers before there will be a second one." I pulled off the road and parked next to three gas pumps, and an elderly man walked around to my driver's seat. The kid looked at the gas station.It was a small building surrounded by wheat fields, the doors and windows were dusty and dirty, and I saw a telephone on the wall inside. The child shook his foot lightly: "The old man is really slow, I don't like to wait." He looked at the old man lifted the hood to check the fuel tank, "Why are you still alive at such an old age? He might as well die cleanly."

I lit a cigarette: "I don't agree with your point of view." The child looked back, grinned and said, "There's a phone over there, do you want to call someone?" I puffed out, "No." When the old man gave me my change, the kid turned to the window and asked, "Sir, do you have a radio?" The old man shook his head: "No, I like quiet." The child grinned: "Sir, your idea is correct, a quiet environment makes people live longer." After getting on the road, I increased the speed to 80 kilometers. The boy was silent for a while, then said, "It takes guts to kill seven people. Have you ever used a gun?"

"I think almost everyone has used a gun." He bared his teeth and his lips twitched: "Did you point a gun at someone?" I glanced at him. His eyes were bright: "Someone is afraid of you. It feels good. When you have a gun in your hand, you don't feel inferior." "Yes," I said, "with a gun you're no longer a little man." His face flushed slightly. "As long as you have a gun, you're the tallest man in the world." "It takes a lot of guts to kill someone," the boy said again, "most people don't know it."

"One of those killed was a five-year-old," I said, 'what do you say about that? " He licked his lips: "That may be an exception." I shook my head: "No one would think that." His eyes seemed uncertain for a moment: "Why do you think he killed a child?" I shrugged: "That's hard to say. He killed one person, another, and another. Maybe it won't be long. Whoever he killed is no different to him. Men, women, and even children are all different. Same." The boy nodded: "In that way, a bloodthirsty habit will be formed."

He was silent for five minutes: "They'll never catch him, he's too smart and cunning." I stared at him for a few seconds: "Why do you think so? You know that people all over the country are looking for him, and everyone knows what he looks like." The boy straightened his thin shoulders: "Maybe he doesn't care, he did what he had to do. Now he is famous. " We drove in silence for a while, and then he twisted his lower body, which was slumped in the seat, and asked, "Have you heard any description of his appearance on the radio?" "Of course I have," I said, "I've been listening to it since last week."

He looked at me curiously: "Aren't you afraid that I'm that person, and you still give me a ride?" His eyes were fixed on me: "I match the description on the radio." "good." The road stretched ahead of us, on either side of an empty plain, without houses or trees. The teenager giggled: "I look like a murderer, everyone is afraid of me, and I like that." "I hope you've had enough fun." I said to him coldly. "In two days, I was arrested three times by the police on this road, and I'm almost as famous as the killer."

"I know," I said, "I think you'll be more famous. I thought I'd find you on this highway." I slowed down and asked the kid, "What about me? Was it described on the radio?" The child snorted and smiled: "It doesn't match, your hair is brown, but that person is red, which is the same color as mine." I smiled slightly: "But, I can dye it!" When the child knew what was going to happen, his eyes widened in horror. He will be the eighth victim shot by the killer that police are hunting for.