Read Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy for Free Online

the
man in the left shoulder, making certain he couldn’t pull himself
through the open window. The trapped man was yelling curse words at
him but his facial expression showed fear.
    O’Neil was in great pain from injuries caused
by the wreck as well as the bullets he had taken, but was fully
aware of his position. He looked to be confused and disoriented in
addition to the effects of the drinks he had consumed earlier.
    A small two pound sledge hammer broke the
glass window behind the driver. A half gallon jar was removed from
the canvas bag and half of the gasoline and diesel mixture was
poured down O’Neil’s back before the remainder was slowly poured
over his head and left shoulder. The jar, wood handled hammer and
canvas bag were thrown into the cab.
    When O'Neil smelled the gasoline vapors a
scream formed in his throat and a look of pure agony filled his
face. He watched as Clay stepped to the front of the driver’s door,
removed the lighter and one of the M-80 firecrackers from his
pocket; O’Neil was screaming, “No! Noooo! What the fuck are you
doing? Who are you?”
    Before lighting the fuse on the firecracker,
Clay looked him in the eyes while speaking calmly “This is for
Jimmy Giliano.”
    “Giliano? He was an accident. You can’t do
this to me because of him.”
    “Jimmy was my friend and didn’t deserve to
die the way you killed him. You didn’t have the guts to fight him
fairly so you attacked him from behind.”
    “Then we're alike” screamed O’Neil. “What’s
the difference in what I did and what you’re doing? You’re nothing
but a damn cowardly assassin. Let me get healed up and I’ll fight
you one on one, fair and square.”
    Clay’s lips formed a cruel smile and he
replied, “Go to hell Asshole.” As he turned the wheel on the
lighter he said, “I can’t fight a dead man, and you are a dead
man.”
    It was obvious O’Neil was coherent and
understood what was said by the terrified look on his face as he
screamed for help. As Clay moved past the broken rear window he
tossed the lit firecracker toward the opening. Flames instantly
erupted from the shattered opening and both front windows as he was
moving toward the back of the pick-up. O’Neil had been screaming
insanely since Clay spoke to him, and then was silent as the smoke
and flames seared his lungs. He moved around the ends of both
trucks and saw O’Neil through the smoke in the light of the flames.
He was alive and slowly moving his right arm, as if he was trying
to push the heat and agony away. Clay took the pistol out of his
pocket, and through the flames and dense smoke shot two bullets
into the side of O’Neil’s head. O’Neil’s arm lunged toward the roof
of the truck cab and his head jerked feebly before the arm dropped
to his side and his torso fell forward against the steering wheel.
Clay had learned there were some things he didn’t have the stomach
for, and enjoying or even tolerating horrible suffering was one of
them.
    Once back in the cab of the flatbed, he
maneuvered the truck away from the pick up with difficulty. The
black Chevy had been jammed against and under the flatbed from its
impact with the abutment, causing the larger truck’s outer left
rear tire to rupture. It took three attempts at backing up and
pulling forward before the trucks disengaged. While picking up
speed, he watched in the rear view mirror as lights approached and
a car pulled to the right hand side of the roadway back at the
“wreck”. Another car was approaching him in the opposite lane on
the other side of the guardrail. The faster the truck ran the
louder the deflated rear tire thumped against the frame until it
disintegrated and was finally tossed off the rim.
    Surprisingly, he didn’t experience the giddy,
emotional, high and low feelings he had gotten when he had
accidentally killed the Loudmouth attacker. He was actually calmer
than before killing O’Neil. There wasn’t a particularly good
feeling about what he