John Busby

My name's John Busby.

They didn't think I'd live, but I did.

Someone's gonna do a voiceover for me.

I'm a little hard to understand, but these are my words, and this is my story.

I was on my way into work the midnight shift.

The vehicle pulled up behind me.

Pulled out as if to pass.

It didn't pass.

It matched my speed.

I got word while I was in the hospital that the investigation had been totally botched.

I determined there was only one way that justice was gonna be done, and I was gonna have to supply it.

I was gonna have to get healthy, get out of the hospital, and kill this guy.

Two or three days would go by, and I would just stay in my room.

Felt like my head was gonna explode.

I started pushing my family away from me, pushing my wife, the children away from me.

We were living in our own prison, and the people who had done that to me were living their normal lives.

The only way out of this mess was leaving town,

moving my family somewhere safe.

By then I would be healthy and strong and able to arm myself with an untraceable weapon.

I was gonna cut through the woods across from the dump and I was gonna wait for Melvin to empty his truck.