Dark Luck (A Suspense Thriller) by Tim Kizer Page B

were very happy their health insurance covered this type of surgery, so
the operation was not going to cost them an arm and a leg.
     
    10.
    “I know what you’re thinking,” Jeremy said after they
passed Hartford. “You are embarrassed to take orders from a fucking finger. Am
I right? And the whole concept of a talking finger must still seem a little
crazy to you. You’re probably afraid that you’re losing your mind.”
    “No, I’m not. Why would I?”
    “But you see, Zack, I only look like a finger. What I
really am is too difficult to explain, and I’m not in the mood to waste the
precious time on this. Does it make you feel better?”
    “Well... Honestly, it kind of does make me feel
better.”
    “I’m glad to hear that. And I know you’re not lying.
Did I tell you I can read your thoughts?”
    “No.”
    “Now you know. I think we’re going to get along nicely,
buddy.”
    Zack nodded approvingly. “Yeah.”
    “Frankly, I don’t really like making you do
stuff. I consider it cheating. I’d much prefer if you wanted to do these
things, buddy. People are the most efficient when they act on their own free
will.”
    “It’s okay, man. We’re cool.”
    “By the way, is it important for you to be on the side
of good? Is it a deal breaker for you, buddy?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “What’s more important to you: to follow the arbitrary
rules of morality or to become someone who matters?”
    “I guess I want to matter.”
    “Great!” Jeremy paused. “You see, every story has at
least two sides to it. Come to think of it, there’s no right or wrong.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes! Take a look at the court of law, for instance.
There are two absolutely opposite points of view on the same crime, on the same
situation, and both of them have a chance of being valid, it’s all just a
matter of coming up with a better argument. If there were the absolute truth, the
pure truth , every Supreme Court vote would be unanimous, which is not the
case. Therefore, there’s no right or wrong, buddy. There’s only interpretation,
nothing else.”
    “Did the devil send you?” 
    “The devil? Oh, of course: if someone goes against the
mainstream, they accuse him of being the devil’s spawn. Well, buddy, if you
look from this perspective, you can say I was sent by the devil. But I want to
let you know that my sender doesn’t have horns on his head or hooves on his
feet.”
     
    11.
    A few miles after they had crossed
into Massachusetts, a highway patrol cruiser caught up with Zack’s car, and
half a minute later the strobe lights went on, signaling Zack to pull over.
    “Whatever you do, man, don’t get out of the car,”
Jeremy said. “And I suppose you realize this guy will have to die.”
    Jeremy was correct. Since Zack had no driver’s license,
the cop was going to confiscate the car and it was only a matter of time before
the police found the dead body in the trunk. All in all, killing the patrolman
was a more sensible option than trying to outrun him.
    “You have to be very quick, Zack. Use the knife. One
fast move. And don’t worry: no one is looking, no one gives a shit about the
pigs. These jerks harass folks every damn day and it’s about time someone
showed them.”
    “Okay.”
    Keeping an eye on the patrolman’s reflection in the
side mirror, Zack pulled the knife out of his hoodie pocket and took a deep
breath.
    “Can I see your license, registration, and proof of
insurance, please?” the cop said in a monotone voice, peering into the window.
    “Sure, Sir.” Zack flashed a sunny smile. “Do you have a
family, officer?” 
    “Can I see your license, registration, and proof of
insurance, please?” No change in the tone whatsoever.
    Zack expected the man, who appeared to be in his
forties, to call him ‘son,’ but it didn’t happen.
    “Do you have children?” As he gazed at the patrolman,
Zack found himself feeling giddy and proud. He was entering the big leagues
now, you know. The