The Late Night Drive

9:08. It was eight minutes past my scheduled time. I would probably be on the road home by now if we hadn’t had two wandering customers walk in five minutes to close. Instead, I was stuck in what felt like an endless time loop of jean-fluffing. I check my watch, only to see that it’s only been two minutes since the last time I did a time-check. I was waiting for the store manager to give us the all clear so I could clock out and leave this hell-hole for good. Well… at least until 5:00 p.m. on Wednesday. This was only a measly retail job, but how about you try interacting with “Karens” for eight hours with minimal breaks. That is the true definition of hell if you ask me. 

I wouldn’t even be here right now if they would’ve approved my request to work the morning or afternoon shifts instead. I thought that if I added just enough despair and sadness into my voice, it would be enough to convince them to adjust my schedule. But, I failed and all I got in return was, “Molly, you know that wouldn’t be fair to anyone else”. Well, yes, I do understand that, but if I cared I obviously wouldn’t have asked. 

Just as I’m about to grab another pair of jeans from the wall, the store manager pops her head out from the backroom. “Alright folks, let’s wrap it up and get out of here!”

I throw the jeans on top of a nearby display table and sprint to the backroom to grab my things. 

“Geez Molly, what’s the big rush?” I hear a voice behind me, but that doesn’t stop me from grabbing my bag and slamming the locker shut. 

“I need to get on the road like… now.” As I sprint to the kiosk to clock out, I shuffle through my bag to find my keys. Wait… where are they? My keys are hard to miss, they’re loud, and full of keychains and–

“Molls, your keys?” My coworker holds my keys in his hands. They’re quite obnoxious actually. Have you ever seen those self-defense key chains people sell online? Well they aren’t a scam; that’s how I ended up with a mini taser, a shank, and pepper spray attached to my car keys. I’m pretty sure the shank is illegal, but I just pretend that I don’t know that. 

“See you guys tomorrow!” I push through everyone standing in front of the doors and wave goodbye, not even taking a moment to look back. 

I live just thirty minutes outside of town in this small village. The drive there is entirely made of backroads and the only lights illuminating the street are the occasional porch light. It’s so dark that if you look in one spot for just a moment too long, you might be able to make out something that probably isn’t there. It’s creepy to say the least. 

What doesn’t help is my debilitating fear of being followed. When I asked my manager if I could work the earlier shifts, I told her it was because I was scared to drive at night. I imagine that’s why she didn’t take me seriously, because I gave her some bogus response about how I’m practically afraid of the dark at the ripe age of twenty-five. But what's so wrong about that? With a drive so far and so desolate, you never know what is truly out there… or what’s to come. 

I turn onto the longest road of the drive, a 10 mile stretch of nothingness. There’s only a few houses on this route, but it’s late and most of them have their porch lights off. With the windows down, all you can hear is the soft chirp of the crickets and an occasional frog from the nearby land with a few small ponds. The air smells like farm animals and hay, which isn’t very appealing to me, but I suppose it could be worse. Though, the cool breeze of the end of summer makes up for the stench of the agriculture. For a moment, I let my guard down and just enjoy the quiet of the nothingness and I feel almost at peace. 

Suddenly, I see a slight glimmer of light flashing behind me. This alone makes me tense up in my seat. Subconsciously, my muscles begin to stiffen and I grip the steering wheel, turning my fingers milky white. My heart isn’t pounding just yet, but I can feel it beating faster. 

The lights grow closer and before I know it, my eyes are burning from the headlights consuming the inside of my car. The car sped up so quickly to get behind me and I imagined they would just pass me on the shoulder, but they aren’t. They’re staying close behind me, so much so our bumpers could kiss at any moment. 

“It’s fine Molly… it’s fine. They’re just going home, same as me.” I speed up, well past the speed limit. But my reassurance begins to fade as I watch the car behind me only do the same. 

As the minutes pass by, the fear begins to consume me as I realize that they really are following me. They mirror my every move; every speed change, every swerve, every break. They aren’t letting up and if I don’t act now, I could be on the next cover of What Happens Weekly. 

At the last second, I take the next turn I see. I’ve never noticed it before and I don’t even know where it goes. The road is made of gravel and my tires can barely grip onto the ground beneath me. Before I can even straighten myself out, the car behind me has already made the same turn, even faster than I did. 

My stomach starts to churn as I swerve all over the gravel road, desperate for a moment to regain control. My heart can only be described as a wild animal begging to be released from its cage. I can feel the pounding from my chest radiate across my body, eventually causing my arms and legs to feel a weakness I have never felt before. The tears that are now streaming down my face blur my vision and the road that was once before me is now a mere smudge of black and grey abyss. 

“Shit!” I scream as I slam my foot on the break and brace for impact. This road is a dead-end. There is no escaping now and if the car behind me doesn’t ram into me, surely the person inside will be responsible for my demise. 

I lock my doors three times and close my eyes, avoiding the imminent death that is about to come to me. I feel no impact, but I hear the screech of tires slide across the gravel behind me and the sound of a door shutting follows. I keep my eyes shut, balling my fists up so hard that I can feel my nails start to dig into the palm of my hands. 

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

They’re here. This is it. I should’ve called off today. 

I open my eyes and slowly turn my head to face the person standing before my window. They’re blurry, but I can tell it’s a man. He knocks again, but this time more forcefully, almost as if he’s agitated. I wipe away my tears to reveal my tormentor. I was expecting someone with the likes of the Boogeyman, but instead it was much worse. 

It was my older brother. 

I rolled down my window, and this time I wasn’t afraid. I was royally pissed off. 

“Michael, what are you doing? I thought you were following me, you psycho!” I punch his stomach and he stumbles backward with a laugh. 

“Well I was messing with you, but then you started driving like a maniac so I thought something was wrong.” He throws his hands up, an impish grin still covering his face. 

I sigh a breath of relief, relax my body, and realize one thing.

“Damn. I don’t think I clocked out.”