The ringing crawled in to her head gradually. She felt as if it had been filled with smouldering cotton. Her eyes flew open, stabbing at the dense woods around her. They tried to focus, darting around. Was it a tree or was he looming over her still? At the thought of him, her body instantly recalled the battering, the pain, feeling soaked in warm, thick fear and wreaking of hot metal. She dragged herself in spite of the screeching pain in her chest and head. She fumbled over the stump realizing her shirt was still stuck to it pulling away from her body. Her breath seeped from her in solid pants as if her lungs were full of jagged stones. There was a whistle. She groped herself, marvelling at the leak in her body making this hissing noise. She coughed, convinced that what ever was left of her was rushing out. It was then she spotted the car sitting quietly; patiently waiting for her to tell it what to do. She moaned and pulled herself up. Flopping heavily into the seat she felt a dangerous sleep beckon to her. She wanted to go to it though; she thought it would be easier, quieter and less painful.
Suddenly a brilliant light slashed through the glass startling her. She snapped to attention, choking on her own spit and breath. If she could get their attention; their help, she might survive. Hope was not dead and neither was she. She cranked and prayed. The lights drew closer, then slowed, then went out; just like a birthday candle. Poof. She whimpered and cranked again.
"No-no-no-no" she sobbed with each stutter of the car. She held her breath until her temples pounded, her eyes gouging the night for signs of her rescuers. Faintly, there was the steady munching as tires softly sampled the deserted road. Were they searching for her? She could only hope. With trembling hands she tried once more, threatening the jalopy with a trip to the junkyard if it failed. There was obedience and the car roared for her. Her squeal was in shear joy and she jerked the hunk of metal into gear, mashing her bruised battered leg to the floor until there was no room left. The car jumped on to the road flashing and honking; screaming to be noticed and begging for help.
But they sped up. They moved away from her, taking the turns sharply, tires shouting back at her and spitting bits of dust and road. She tried desperately to keep up, pulling along side of them and screaming for her life, but again, they pulled away devouring the street and disappearing. A couple of times she thought she'd lost them, but they were just ahead, playing cat and mouse. Sometimes lights on...sometimes not. She pushed the car to the limit, determined to get out of this nightmare. The turn jumped in front of her. It was sharp. She missed. The cruel night swallowed her screams. There was nothing but panic and pain.
"Nobody really believes it."
"So why are we here?"
"Shhhh...listen"
The car grumbled to a stop. The cold night air waited for the punch line of the unfunny joke.
"Jason...c'mon man, nobody's...."
The lights popped out from nowhere, noiselessly flying up behind them.
"GO GO GO~" the brave boys screamed in falsettoed terror.
The ones in the back smacking the front seats almost climbing over the top. Jason mashed the gas but the tires stuttered, also frightened by the sudden arrival. They peeled out, clawing at the road, not quite beating it with the jerking, extravagant turns of the wheel. The renegade flew up on them; lights flashed, the horn honked as it tried to pull along side. Thank God their engine was a v-8 so they could pull away. The mystery car swerved and jerked. Was it trying to run them off the road? Only once did they see the driver. The scream that crawled from each them was bone chilling; jaggedly ripping through their throats. When enough space was between them, Jason pulled over and killed the lights, hoping they would simply pass him by but nobody came. Ronnie leaned out the window straining his ears and praying. Nothing. They thought the worst was over and they could go home.
The lights lunged for them and screamed angrily around the turn. It went wide and left the road, silently. Then the curtain of night slammed down on the whole show. There was simply black. Shaken, they crept home, refusing to speak of what they'd seen on Claybourne Road that night when they'd been brave young men too big to believe in ghost stories. Days later when the sun was high and proud, they drove it again. There were no marks aside from their own. There were no broken trees; there was no car, stuffed into the thick woods. Just a forgotten, mangled up stump at the start of what (at night) was a true nightmare for any traveller.Ahhhhh I guess what I found? A wonderful little stretch of road up near Promises with a bit of horror attached to it. Have I driven it yet? Nope.
Wanna ride???
PS. Thanks to my wonderful partner in crime who helped me along with this one by providing the image. Steve, you're wonderful. I appreciate it.
