The Long Road to Nowhere

Body Found Near Highway 1 South of Thunder Bay

Thunder Bay Police are investigating after a man’s body was found 3 kilometres off the Trans-Canada Highway on Thursday evening. Police identified the man as 24-year-old Jay Davison. An autopsy will be conducted to confirm the cause of death. There are no suspects at this time.

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“What’s your greatest fear?”

The low-quality audio of Jay’s podcast filled the space of his Jetta, forming the soundtrack for rapidly passing headlights and the flow of continuous traffic on the Northbound 400. The tires rumbled against the asphalt, and rain pattered softly against the windshield, swiped away by screeching wipers.

“I dunno. Probably dying in a really stupid way. Like being murdered by a killer doll.”

“A killer doll?” the first speaker echoed, laughing. Jay laughed along with them, snickering softly.

“Yeah! I’d show up in Hell and get no street cred.”

Jay sipped his energy drink and rubbed at his stinging eyes. The traffic leaving Toronto had left him drained, but he still had over an hour of driving to go before arriving at his hometown for his mother’s birthday. He was dreading seeing his family, having to admit he was taking a break from his studies at the University of Toronto and had spent the last year partying away the money he’d been sent for school.

“That’s like going to jail for jaywalking or something!”

“Yeah, totally. You’d get no respect.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jay noticed a pickup truck pulled over on the side of the highway, emergency lights flashing in the haze of azure brought on by the setting sun. A man and a young child stood on the side of the road, thumbs outstretched. Jay slowed. If the man were alone, he would have kept driving, but the presence of a child prompted him to stop. He pulled over on the side of the 400. His wipers squealed as they pushed away the mounting raindrops.

“Can we go back to the Hell thing, real quick? Why do you think you’d go to Hell?”

Jay paused the podcast. He rolled down the passenger window as the two figures approached.

“Need a lift?” He asked.

Both the man and the little girl were soaked, their raincoats slick and dripping.

“Hop in,” Jay said, leaning across the centre console to open the passenger door.

“Thanks,” the man grunted. He took off his wet jacket before sliding into the open seat next to Jay. The little girl hesitated, looking back at the pickup truck before cautiously opening the back door. She climbed into the back seat, slipping out of her sopping rain jacket. She was wearing a soccer uniform bearing the Bradford FC crest. She had a Barbie backpack, which she set on the seat next to her.

The glare of passing headlights illuminated Jay’s passengers’ features. The man had a narrow, stern face. His cheeks were gaunt, stubble standing out against his pale skin. He had a scar on his lip, puckered and opaline. The girl was likely eight or nine with large blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail.

“I can take you guys as far as Orillia,” Jay said. “That’s where I’m heading.”

“We’re heading to Thunder Bay,” the man said.

“Oh, wow. That’s a 14-hour drive. What’s up there for you?”

The man said nothing, scarred lips pressing together. The hollow of his cheeks was dark in the low light.

“Well,” Jay said, “if you’re heading that way, I can drop you off in Barrie. After that, the highway splits so-”

“You’ll take the exit towards Thunder Bay.” The voice was calm and gentle, but it held a certain darkness beneath.

“What?” Jay asked. “Why?”

“Because I’m asking you nicely.”

The glint of metal in Jay’s peripherals made his heart rate spike. In the stranger’s lap was a gun.

“Holy shit!” Jay exclaimed. “Why do you have that?!”

Jay’s breath came shallow and ragged as his mind ran circles on itself. He should never have stopped. He’d been told time and time again not to pick up strangers on the side of the road.

“Take the exit.”

“And if I don’t?” Jay challenged.

The metallic click of the hammer being pulled back was the man’s answer.

The dim city lights raced by the windows, extending trails of neon through the fogged-up windshield, marred by residual raindrops. Speckled light shifted over the dashboard, sickly beams stretching and retreating increasingly slowly as the traffic thinned out. They soon left Barrie behind, Jay taking the exit heading towards Thunder Bay. He remained alert, glancing continuously at the gun in the man’s lap.

“What’s your name?” Jay asked nervously. “If you’re ordering me around, threatening me… I should just know your name, is all.”

The man’s grin was a slow baring of canines, awash in the crimson glow from the rear headlights in front of them.

“Michael,” he said.

“I’m Jay. It’s - uh - it’s nice to meet you, Michael.”

The man exhaled sharply, the bastardization of a laugh.

“Save it, kid.”

They drove for hours, trading the wide highway for the winding forest roads of the Trans-Canada. The forest was thick and dark, its inky blackness holding untold horrors, skulking ghouls and hungry wolves. There was no music, no sound other than that of the road beneath them.

“So… What’s in Thunder Bay?” Jay asked.

“A cabin,” Katrina said from the back seat. She leaned over the centre console, offering Jay a cryptic smile. “A special cabin.”

“What makes it special?”

“It’s my hunting cabin,” Michael said shortly.

“Daddy’s taking me there for my birthday!” Katrina added.

Michael rested a hand on his daughter’s head.

“That’s right, pumpkin,” he said. “You’re finally old enough to see it.”

Katrina beamed, her blue eyes shining.

“So…” Jay said, swallowing apprehensively. He glanced at Michael’s lap, the gun pointed in his direction. “When we get to Thunder Bay, you’ll let me go, right?”

Distant headlights illuminated Michael’s growing smile.

“Of course, kid,” he said. “We’re not monsters. Now be a good boy and drive a little faster, eh?”

Jay nodded dumbly, pressing down on the gas. He watched the speedometer rise from 80 km/h to 110. He took the next corner sharply, feeling himself press against the window. Katrina’s delighted laughter filled the car.

“Faster, Jay! Faster!” She cried gleefully.

“Any faster and we’ll crash,” Jay said.

“It’s her birthday, Jay. Do it.”

Jay exhaled slowly, shakily, steeling his nerves. The engine revved as he pushed down on the gas pedal. They careened around the next corner, crossing past the yellow lane marker. Jay’s heart beat frantically in his chest, every nerve in his body urging him to slow down. A flash of approaching headlights made him jerk the steering wheel to the side, almost sending them into the ditch.

“Well,” Michael said mirthfully, “now we know F1 isn’t your calling.”

The road stretched on without landmark. A sea of pines extended on either side, seemingly for eternity. The winding highway brought them along the edge of Lake Superior, its glassy surface partially obscured by the lingering fog. Michael’s gun sat in his lap, drawing Jay’s eye as he drove.

“I need to pee.” Jay broke the uneasy silence.

Michael only tapped his fingers against his gun. Slowly. Rhythmically. Like the tick of a metronome.

“I’m serious. I can’t hold it much longer.”

“Fine. Pull over.”

Michael walked him out of the car with his gun pointed at the back of Jay’s skull. Jay unbuckled his pants and angled himself towards the ditch.

“I can’t pee with a gun to my head.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to.”

Jay shook out his nerves, willing his body to cooperate.

“Isn’t your arm getting tired?”

“No,” Michael said, “now hurry up.”

Jay could feel Michael’s eyes on him, that relentless, unsettling gaze that flayed him raw, leaving only a mangled corpse in its wake.

“Today, kid.”

“I’m trying .”

There was a metallic click as Michael pulled the hammer back.

“You’re wasting my time.”

“I told you, I’m-“

Michael pulled the trigger.

A hollow sound signalled an empty chamber, but the movement of the gun against Jay’s head sent panic shooting through his veins all the same, his bladder releasing on instinct as his body was paralyzed with shock.

A wry laugh made Jay’s cheeks burn in embarrassment.

“Would ya look at that…” Michael said. “Not potty trained yet, eh?”

“Fuck you.”

The long drive dragged on, thin tendrils of light appearing along the horizon as daylight crept above the trees. Jay blinked away the exhaustion drying out his eyes and righted the steering wheel as he drifted into the opposing lane. They passed through Sault Ste Marie, another seven hours to go before reaching Thunder Bay.

Katrina was asleep in the back seat, her sleep-deep breathing low and rhythmic. She was using her Barbie backpack as a pillow, the Polly Pocket dolls she’d been playing with scattered on the floor of Jay’s Jetta.

The road was dark and quiet and anonymous. No faces in the headlight haze. The radio crackled softly, skimming from one station to another, each as indecipherable as the last. Bits of songs and talk radio broke through the static.

In the back seat, Katrina stirred. She rubbed at her eyes, yawning.

“Daddy?” she asked groggily. “Are we there yet?”

“Soon,” Michael said. “Only a few more hours.”

“I’m hungry.”

“We’ll stop soon, pumpkin,” Michael said. He offered Jay a pointed gaze, wordlessly communicating that he was to stop at the next opportunity.

The town of Nipigon.

Two strips of motels, restaurants, and gas stations stood guard along the highway like sad, sagging sentinels. Jay felt safer here, somehow, like Michael wouldn’t kill him under the watchful eye of looming figures of brick and mortar.

Jay pulled into the first petrol station. He made to open the door, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“Not so fast,” Michael said. “I’ll fill up and get us some food. You stay here.”

Jay watched in horror as Michael passed the gun to Katrina.

“Sweetie. You remember what I taught you, right?”

“Yep!” Katrina nodded enthusiastically, pointing out the parts of the gun. “Safety, trigger. Point and pull.”

“That’s my girl.”

Michael stepped out of the passenger seat, leaving Jay and Katrina alone. Katrina was holding the gun with both hands, the weapon oddly large in her tiny grip.

“So… you know how to use that thing?” Jay asked.

“Daddy taught me,” Katrina said.

Jay reached for his energy drink, disappointed to find it nearly empty. The silence of the car was tense and suffocating, only broken by distant conversation around the gas station. Jay flicked on the radio, tuning it to the local station.

“Police are on the search for a man suspected of kidnapping. The child is Katrina Carter, a nine-year-old girl with…”

Jay choked on his drink. Kidnapping? He turned his head to look at Katrina. The shock in his expression must have been evident because Katrina tilted her head to the side, her face splitting into a smirk.

“Something wrong, Jay?” She asked innocently.

“Do you need help?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

Katrina laughed, a light, tinkling sound that had no business sounding so nonchalant.

“Daddy didn’t kidnap me,” she said. “He’s taking me on a trip for my birthday! I finally get to see him work!”

“Work?” Jay asked. “What kind of work?”

Katrina toyed with the gun in her hands, flipping the safety on and off.

“Oh,” she shrugged, “you know. This and that.”

Michael returned to the Jetta with his arms laden with gas station snacks: Twinkies, Doritos, beef jerky, and gummy bears. He tossed the goods into the back seat before urging Jay to keep driving.

The sun was bleeding over the horizon, arterial spray spilling onto the road. Bathed in rich red light, the highway extended forever, disappearing into the hills. The sign whizzing by the windows proclaimed Thunder Bay 13. The sight of an approaching exit dissipated some of the tension in Jay’s shoulders. He was almost there. This nightmare was almost over. He said a quiet prayer, a last-ditch plea to anything that was out there. If I get out of this mess, I'll go back to school and I'll never spend my parent's money on booze and drugs again.

“Pull onto this road,” Michael said.

There was only the highway.

“I don’t see a road.”

“There.” Michael extended a finger towards a narrow clearing between the pines.

“But the exit is-”

“Turn. Now.”

Jay slowed, headlights finding a scattering of bugs and a flittering bat. Shadows curled over the trees, hovering at the fraying edges of the headlights. Jay swallowed down his trepidation as he turned off the highway. No one spoke as the car bumped over the potholed road, escaping deep into the forest. Jay’s hands were shaking on the steering wheel, sliding against the leather.

“Here,” Michael finally said. He tucked his gun into his waistband, and Jay’s mouth went dry. “Get out.”

Jay’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“No.”

It took mere moments for Michael to get out and round the car to the driver’s side. He threw the door open and dragged Jay out by his arm. He was surprisingly strong.

“Katrina. Stay here,” Michael ordered.

“But I want to see!” Katrina protested. “You said I was old enough! And it’s my birthday, so-”

“Fine,” Michael said. “Come on.”

Katrina shot Jay a luminous smile as she scrambled out of the car. Jay threw a pleading look in her direction, as if begging her to be his saviour, advocate for his pitiful life. The cocking of a gun made Jay’s heart drop.

“Go on,” Michael said, jerking his chin towards the darkness ahead.

“Wait! I won’t tell anyone about you! I swear to God!”

The barrel of Michael’s gun pressed against the small of Jay’s back, urging him forward.

“Less talking, more walking.”

Jay didn’t know how Michael and Katrina walked through the forest with such silent ease. Jay tripped over roots and branches, catching himself on trees. He stumbled past bushes and occasionally fell amongst the dirt and fallen leaves, only to be roughly hauled back to his feet by a hand fisted in his shirt.

“I promise I won’t… It’ll be like you never existed! I swear!” Jay was sobbing in earnest now, the forest swallowing his cries.

Michael only shoved him forward again, saying nothing. Quiet as the dead. Quiet as Jay was about to be.

“Can I do it?” The soft voice sent an electric shock through Jay’s veins.

Katrina held her hand out to Michael, a silent request. Michael’s laughter was rich and warm.

“Your first one has to be special,” he said as he handed her the gun. “You’ll remember it forever.”

“I think Jay’s plenty special,” Katrina said with a smile.

Jay’s mind was nothing but static, a radio station out of tune. His hands shook and his forehead was slick with sweat. He thought of the podcast he’d been listening to before fatefully pulling over on the side of the 400. A killer doll… This was about as close as one could get. The thought brought forth a choked laugh, a manic chortle that ripped its way out of Jay’s throat. An intense stab of self-preservation shot through his chest. He had no options, no way out. The only thing he could do was try to run. He stopped, stock-still.

“Keep moving,” Michael ordered.

Jay looked between Michael and Katrina. Katrina held the gun in both hands, pointed at Jay’s midsection. He took a risk. He began to run, tripping through the dark forest. His own ragged breaths echoed in his head, rapid and panicked.

A shot rang out. Birds scattered. Jay fell to the ground.

Jay shrieked, clutching his leg. Blood was spurting from the gunshot wound in his thigh, soaking through his clothes.

“Nice shot,” Michael said, “but you missed his vitals.”

Michael gripped Jay’s hurt leg, dragging him backwards. Jay fought and struggled until he caught sight of the gleaming barrel of a gun inches from his forehead. His blood ran cold.

“I swear on my life! I won’t say anything!” Jay cried. His voice echoed in the emptiness.

“Are they all so whiny?” Katrina asked.

“Some,” Michael said.

There were only so many times Jay could beg, plead, say I swear, I swear, until it became clear it was falling on deaf ears. His mind formed a chorus of regret. He never should have stopped for Michael and Katrina. He should have been home right now, eating home-cooked meals and grovelling for his mother’s forgiveness. The podcast floated into his mind again. “What’s your worst fear?” This time, he understood the podcaster’s terror. Jay had been the bringer of his own destruction, the signer of his own death warrant. He never thought he would be the type of person to find himself in this situation, yet here he was, alone in the woods with a little girl holding a gun to his head. Damn, Jay thought to himself, I’ll get no street cred in Hell.

“Any last words?” Katrina asked. The gun was cold against Jay’s scalp.

Jay turned his attention to Michael. The man was standing next to his daughter, his arms crossed over his chest, his face twisted into a proud grin. He gave Katrina a nod of encouragement, and the barrel pressed harder against Jay’s skull.

“You won’t get away with this,” Jay said darkly.

“Oh, Jay,” Michael crooned. “I already have.”