He Slaughtered Them Like Cattle

The car tires hum a steady rhythm on the interstate, a soundtrack to your and Ray's escape. Hours have blurred into one long stretch of road, putting distance between you and everything you knew.
“This is going to be good for us,” you say, the words laced with a confidence you hope will rub off on Ray. He glances at you, his light-skinned face a mask of uncertainty. “Ray, I’m serious.”
He nods hesitantly, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I hope you’re right.”
You reposition yourself in the seat, gazing at the asphalt ribbon stretching before you. Ray’s hands are locked at ten and two on the steering wheel, his cruise control set precisely at the speed limit. Safe and by the book. It’s been his mantra ever since he got out of the psych ward a few months ago. You understand, on some level, given his past, but still… you have to live a little.
