Out of Gas

Juan and Catalina were on their way home from Morocco. Two weeks on the road, meeting interesting people, eating delicious food. A culture so close and so different at the same time. Soon they would be home in Granada. They were tired and in love.

On the highway, somewhere close to Almuñecar, a larger village by the coast, they ran out of gas. They stopped between two tunnels, by a bridge. They called the tow truck.

They waited in the car. Other cars went by fast. It probably would be safer to stay outside of the car, outside of the highway, but Catalina already had her hand in Juan’s pants. The tow man arrived way too soon.

The tow man went out of the truck, left the yellow moving signal lights on. They explained the situation. He went over to the car, opened the door on the driver side. The lights of a big truck was seen in the distance.

It didn’t change file. It did not slow down. It accelerated.

Well, said the tow truck man. We need to… The truck took him away. Both he and the car door flew several meters. He bounced a couple of times then stopped. He was twisted in an impossible position.

The truck slowed down for a moment, as if it wanted to stop. A tank truck. It accelerated out of sight.

Catalina ran over to the body. He’s dead! She said, crying. Stating the obvious. This isn’t happening…

Juan pulled out his phone, called the emergency number.

The police arrived first. The tow man was dead, all right. One of the police officers were asking questions, the other securing the area with poles. A car arrived. La Guardia Civil, the Spanish military based road police.Then the ambulance.

Lights in a distance. A truck, going wrong way on the highway. Fast. What the… Started one of the policemen. The truck came closer.

Stop that truck! Said the officer in charge. The other grabbed a red flash light and went out in the road. The truck didn’t slow down. Juan suddenly knew it was the same as before.

Out of the road! Shouted Juan, grabbed Catalina and pulled her over the auto protection. They fell on the other side. The truck crashed into the tow truck. The tow truck smashed into the fence and over the road, taking two policemen with it. The tank truck fell over. Slid into the ambulance. The tank broke, caught fire. Exploded. It was raining fire.

Juan and Catalina stared at the inferno. Everyone was dead. This was going to be a long night.



Kill a Killer Clown


  1. A few years back, my son’s car went dead in his driveway. He lived in a basement apartment and his car was at the bottom of a steep grade. The tow truck arrived and the driver set the brake and got out. Somehow the break failed and the truck came down the grade. I pulled my son out of the way by the hood of his sweatshirt just in time. Fortunately, the back of the truck was stopped by the concrete at the bottom and didn’t hit my son’s car. It was a near thing, though.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you for sharing such an interesting and highly related story. This one is, until the moment before the first death more or less based on a journey I had with my girlfriend, or actually a couple of journeys mixed. We went out of gas on the highway, and the tow truck came. A car in full speed passed the tow truck man very, very close, even though there were various lanes and the tow truck signal lights were flashing. The idea for the story came to life in a fun conversation with my girlfriend, so she has some of the credit. Nothing happened, but some people are rather stupid, crazy or both. A sudden move and they could have killed him.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Stuff like that periodically happens on the local stretch of interstate. Some good samaritan stops to help a stranded motorist only to get hit by some driver not paying attention. Tragic.

        Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s