The Pigs

Escape!

The piglets gradually made their way out of the opening. A few of the braver ones at first, then more. For the first time, their tiny feet touched dirt and grass. Quite a novelty after the cold hard cement they had been born and raised on.
A few of the piglets had not survived the accident. Even more were injured. Most had made it out of the experience fairly unscathed and reveled in their freedom. The warmth of the sunlight, the taste of grass, the feel of the cool earth as they rooted into it with their snouts.
Pigs are omnivores. Which means they will eat anything. Plants, animals, anything. As fairly new weanlings, they were curious to taste just about anything. Especially with another new experience, a gnawing hunger that was beginning to grow in their bellies.
The little bit of vegetation within their reach was quickly devoured by the hungry animals. Some were lured back into the truck by another smell. One that struck a small chord of alarm in them, but was also strangely alluring. The blood of their littermates. They were also devoured.
A moan from the cab of the truck startled them. The man woke, crying out in pain at his shattered leg pinned by crushed metal. Blood oozed from a gash down the side of his face. The sharp pain cleared his head sufficiently to realize his predicament. He looked for his cell phone, but it was no where to be seen. Most likely flung far from his reach. In desperation, and with not a little panic in his voice, he called for help.
At first his cries frightened the piglets. Most ran to a safe distance, then cautiously turned to look for danger. When no threat ensued, curiosity got the better off them and they made their way back to the truck. They now associated the smell of blood with food. The man screamed as the piglets at first nibbled, then dug ravenously into his flesh. He tried desperately to fight them off, but there were too many. His screams stopped, and nothing was left but the wet sounds of the piglets feasting.
A few hours later a dusty pick up pulled up next to the overturned truck. Two men jumped out and made their way through the piglets to cab of the truck. The younger man in rear pulled out his phone and dialed 911. The older man reached the cab, his face turned white as he took in the scene inside and realized what had happened. "Oh my.... little bastards..." he muttered. The younger man pushed past him, looked in the cab, and promptly turned and vomited.
About an hour after the truck was discovered, the local police, firemen, farmers, and anyone else the small community could muster were busy catching the piglets. Once again they found themselves on a truck toward a short life and a dinner plate. Their brief taste of freedom over.
Sometimes, no matter how many generations an animal has been domesticated, a few are born with the feral characteristics of their wild predacessors. About a dozen of the piglets were such animals. They ran, hid, fought if need be. They were wild and free and determined to stay that way. They managed to evade the humans, and forming a loose group, made their way deep into the woods.