Road Trips Read Free

the stall door, and then slid the lock open.  The uneven door
swung open on its own.  She peered around the edge of the door as it swung. The
room was empty.  For a moment she questioned if anyone had ever been there. 
Then, just outside the stall, she saw muddy footprints, the only vestige of her
nightmare.
    She leaned against the main bathroom door and listened
momentarily. Then, confident that no one was outside, she burst through it and
bolted toward her car.
    The chorus of crickets filled the night air, and then
suddenly stopped. Carly paused, sensing movement off to the side of the
building. And then, the snap of a twig, roaring like a falling tree.
    She turned.
    The dark outline of a man emerged from the shadows, arms
outstretched. He towered over her, his face concealed by shadow and a fedora
cocked over his forehead.
    “No!” She stumbled away, and spun toward her car, feeling
his presence inching closer. She slammed the car door shut behind her and hit
the lock. She grabbed the handle and rolled up her window, voiceless, unable to
scream.
    The shadowed man shambled closer. His palms faced her,
dripping—she could not tell what in the darkness.
    Watching him through the window, she tried to force the key
into the ignition, but she kept missing. A frustrated scream finally erupted
from her mouth. She pulled her eyes from the approaching man and focused on the
ignition. Her trembling hand worked the key into the slot. She cranked the
engine, the starter wincing as she ground it. The man’s hand smeared across the
window as the car tore out of the parking lot.
    She sped along the dark road for an hour, watching her
rearview mirror for headlights that never appeared. She felt hopelessly lost in
the stalks of corn and roads that cut seemingly endless lines through the
fields. The urge for a cigarette finally overwhelmed her, and glancing in the
rearview more once more, she braked but did not dare to put the car in park. She
leaned her head against the steering wheel for a moment. She turned to face the
window and shuddered looking at the smear, realizing, it was blood.
    She reached in the backseat for her bag. Her hand drifted
across the fabric and landed on a wet, sticky puddle. She pulled her hand back,
the palm coated in blood. She turned in her seat and gazed into the back. She
clawed at the door handle, and fell onto the pavement as the door opened. Carly
crumbled to the ground, moaning with her bloodied hand held away from her body.
As the car rolled away, the door slammed shut and hid Peter’s head, propped in
the backseat, where her cabbage had been.
     
     
    Originally published in The Weekly .
     
    If you enjoyed this story, you may enjoy Red
Haze .

Red in the Morning
    Dark gray clouds stretched the horizon, blotting out the red
shards of the setting sun. In Maude’s mind, the red slants of light looked like
the tentacles of a sea anemone, searching for prey. Throughout the day, Maude
had watched from her window as the clouds proceeded toward her. They had
gathered into a herd then as the wind picked up, they stampeded. Great
raindrops bombarded the ground, kicking up dust clouds, as the line of rain
moved toward her.
    Her window on the fifth floor was a single blinking eye in
the countenance of the dark edifice. Large raindrops, sounding like gravel,
pelted the window. Against the force of the howling wind, the glass rattled.
Maude scurried to a dark corner of the room, sat with her knees huddled to her
chest. She felt sweat beading on her forehead, felt her pulse race in her neck.
She wanted to scream.
    The rain always made her want to scream.
     
    Maude was fiddling anxiously with the dial to her car radio.
The first rays of the morning sun broke the seraphic spell of the nighttime sky
as she found a song she liked. Moonlight Sonata entranced her as she
strained to keep awake. Looking down the winding road ahead of her, she yawned
and rubbed her eyes. It had been a long night.
    A cocktail party had