I heard the familiar ding of the gas light and proceeded to pull over.
"Empty again," I muttered to myself as I angrily slammed my car door and walked back to the trunk.
I swung the thing open and picked up the half full jerry can. I poured up the gas, closed my trunk and sat back in my 1997 Honda Accord for a cigarette.
"Damn piece of shit," I muttered. "Can't even drive six miles on full without going dry."
At this point in the day, the heat was brutal. It was like being stuck in the oven, and that oven being my car. It had no air conditioning, no radio, and worst of all, a faulty gas tank. Some could say I didn't have to take this trip, but the offer was too good to let go. Sure, I could have asked a friend, but I don't have the money to pay them for gas for a 1500-mile trip. I'd rather go alone in that sauna on wheels than not have enough for cigarettes.
The trip I was taking would better me greatly down the road. I'd drive across the state to some company and make a deal for my product. You see, I was an inventor of sorts until "the incident". I'd make small little nick-knacks and sell them here and there but this company was very interested in my idea for a portable electronic microscope. It didn't seem like anything great until they responded to my e-mail and told me to bring some by. And that's how I ended up in the middle of nowhere, alone and contrary.
The day went on and after more cigarette breaks, I was about a quarter of the way there. The sun had set and the air was a little cooler than in the day previous. I had found myself pulled over on some back road with my seat pushed back and my head resting on a travel pillow. This road was surrounded by forest. Trees taller than houses and denser than the city. All was quiet except for the occasional "hoot" of an owl. Around midnight or so, I awoke to what seemed to be the sound of something scraping against my car. I turned on my flashlight and looked around. There were no shadows, or anything visible, so I rolled over and closed my eyes again. Not even five minutes after, I heard that same sound again. I got out of my car, flashlight in hand and crept around the corner of my car. I looked down and by one of my tires a small baby deer lay on the ground, torn apart. I gagged at the horrific sight and walked back the open car door. I sat down and tried to contemplate how I didn't hear that thing die. Surely, to die so gruesomely, one would cry in pain. I shook it off and decided to drive away from the corpse.
About a mile or two down the road, I had to slam on my brakes. Something was in the way. Whatever it was, was long and stretched across the road. I got out, my car still running with my flashlight gripped tightly in my palm. I proceeded over and threw up. The horrid smell hit my nostrils with such force, but the sight was worse. A row of people, their limbs twisted and broken, tied together like a braid. I ran back to my car and backed up, hitting something else doing so, and sped down the road the way I came. My body was shaking with both disgust and fear. Who would do such a thing? WHAT would do such a thing? I almost made it to the exit onto the freeway when my car began to spit and sputter.
"No, no, Jesus, no!" I cried as I slammed both hands onto the steering wheel.
I put my head back and sighed, the fear coursing through me. I jumped at the sound of something hitting my car. Turning around, I opened my door and ran. A bloodied skull had hit my rear bumper, denting it and shattering in the process. I pushed my body to its limit, almost collapsing upon reaching the freeway. I stood, waiting for a vehicle to pass, but there was nothing. I spun around and saw it. It just stood there, watching me, not moving. In fact, the only motion I saw was the string of bones it held in one hand. The dark color of its fur made it almost invisible in the black of night. Suddenly, it moved, walking slowly towards me. I backed up but fell on my untied shoe laces. It stood above me now, staring at me. Its face elongated, its mouth the host to small, jagged teeth and its arms bearing many scars. It began to speak in a gutteral tone.
"There seems to be some debris. Can you help me move it?"