Car Troubles

There it was again.

The smallest flicker of movement in my peripheral vision. I squinted into the rearview mirror as the car idled on the bend of a dirt road best left forgotten. Nothing, beyond the hum of cicadas and whine of a stowaway mosquito in my ear. Just a few more minutes. A few more minutes, and this whole mess could be behind me.

The last golden fingers of sunlight turned fiery red as they dipped below the treeline ahead of me. I hadn’t picked this spot at random; it was always a balm to my troubled thoughts and racing mind. More troubled and racing these past few days than most.

Taking deep, uneven breaths, I snapped open the burner phone for the hundredth time, knowing it would read the same infuriating title: NO MESSAGES. A dart of a shadow in the passenger seat caught my eye. I flicked my eyes to the side, then up to the rearview mirror again. Nothing. I craned around in my seat, joints groaning. Nothing. I shook my head. I’ve been getting more and more jumpy recently. Running a business, providing for my family, the contentious “debates” Jim subjected me to when I didn’t agree with his “vision” for the company, always puffing his cigar into my face… it had been taking a toll.

The first swig from the bottle I’d brought helped a little. I took another glance back at the still-silent phone. Even more glances over each shoulder and in the rearview mirror. There wasn’t a soul around for miles, I surmised as I took a long drink. A moment later, a creak came from somewhere in the car’s undercarriage. That was odd. Don’t get me wrong, this car made its fair share of squeaks and bumps, but this one was unusual. Like metal attempting to hold fast against a considerable force. The last thing I wanted to do was get out of the car, but I couldn’t just sit there all night. Or… could I? It would be a cold, uncomfortable night, but it would be a great excuse for being gone so long. Either way, I felt like I should at least take a look.

With a stretch and a yawn that did not reflect my internal disposition, I climbed out of the car and got on my hands and knees to take a peek underneath, eventually laying flat on the ground to get a better look. Surprise, surprise. Nothing. Everything looked in order. I really need to take a Xan- SLAM.

The car door right above my head slammed shut with enough force to shake the entire car, the wind from the movement tearing rough fingers through my hair. I laid there, stunned, grateful that my head was still attached to my body. What the hell was that? It wasn’t even that windy out here. Fear trickled into the back of my mind and down my spine. Use your head, you idiot, I thought to myself. Someone’s out here. Someone had just tried to slam my head in a car door, and I was still laying flat on the ground like a fool.

I shot to my feet in an instant, looking around wildly, fear palpable in my throat. I saw no one. Getting pissed off, I ran around the car, then looked to the distant trees. No one around, not even any passing cars. Was someone messing with me? I don’t know where they would’ve hidden. The only possible place is in the distant trees, and there’s no way someone covered that distance before I got up. Squinting around, I glanced at the car - and nearly threw up.

Someone was sitting in my car. It was impossible to tell anything about them through the tinted windows, just a darker silhouette against the dark glass, motionless in the passenger seat. The thought of a stranger stepping over my head and climbing over the driver’s seat to the other side sent chills down my spine for reasons I couldn’t articulate. I fought to breathe, but couldn’t make myself blink. With a staggering step and a shout, I threw open the driver’s side door, shoving my torso into the cabin in what I hoped was an intimidating manner.

No one was there. Confused, terrified, and angry, I stomped around the car and examined it from every angle. There was really and truly nothing there. My racing thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of my phone. My phone! I had, impossibly, nearly forgotten about the entire reason for this trip. I scrambled into the car, slamming the door behind me as I fumbled for my phone.

HEY, BOSS. IT’S DONE.

I took a deep breath, equally relieved and burdened by the message. YOU’RE POSITIVE? WHEN?

Another buzz from the cheap plastic phone. ABOUT 30 MINUTES AGO. TRIED TO SEND YOU A MESSAGE. SEEMED LIKE YOU DIDN’T HAVE SERVICE.

30 minutes ago. All my worries had been handled half an hour ago, and I was out here scaring myself in the middle of nowhere. I laughed to myself slightly, feeling the weight that had been slowly growing heavier over the past few years evaporate off my shoulders. I didn’t even know this guy’s real name, but I knew he was good at what he did. He made no mistakes, worked quickly, and kept himself out of the public eye. If he said Jim was dead, then Jim was dead as a doornail. The blow to my bank account was temporary and well worth it. I was free to steer the company any way I wished, with full control of its assets. I set the phone on the seat next to me. No one would suspect me. Traffic cameras had plainly seen my car leave the city hours before the murder, and not yet return. My real phone’s location would show that I was at my sister’s this evening. I would stop by her place shortly to pick it up; I must have dropped it behind the seat in her car earlier today.

I got ready to head to my sister’s, putting on my seatbelt and checking the rearview mirror one last time.

A dark silhouette stared at me from the backseat.

I screamed, nearly jumping out of my skin. I fumbled with my seatbelt as I turned to throw open the car door, but the door refused to open. My hands scrabbled at the buckle by my hip, but it wouldn’t budge. The seatbelt tightened, inch by inch, until I could barely breathe. I raked my hands over the wheel, the gearshift, the dash, trying to find something that would respond to my touch. Nothing did. Despite myself, I looked into the rearview mirror again. The shadow hadn’t moved.

Suddenly, the radio came alive with static, and to my horror, the gearshift inched backwards until the car was in drive. I lunged for it as best I could around the seatbelt, but it was like I was a ghost. The handle would not obey my hands. The car lurched slowly into motion, crunching dirt and gravel as it hummed forward. Terror shot down my limbs. I could barely move, the seatbelt starting to cut into my skin now. Slowly, agonizingly, the car began to build up speed, churning up dirt and dust into the air as the world outside the windows began to blur by.

The last thing I remember before the car slammed into the tree was the thick smell of cigar smoke.