Part 1

 

I drive into the dark, white lines darting hypnotically beneath the car one after the other like luminescent fish in a river of pitch. Nothing exists beyond the dim glow of the headlights.

The windows are down; a pleasantly cold wind whips through the car. It’s quiet—just the hum of the engine and the sound of dense rubber spinning smoothly over asphalt. The car radio is gone—well, not gone, but has long since stopped working, and subsequently been removed, now taking up residence in the rear dash. Now there is only a gaping slot in the exact center of the dashboard, emanating a tangible silence.

I sigh and fumble for a cigarette, stripping the cellophane from the fresh new pack, sliding a single mentholated Virginia Slim from the others. I pull it to my lips.
I think of my mother.

I mutter a curse under my breath, and flick the unlit cigarette out the window.

Headlights appear behind me, glaring and bright. Too bright. Too close.

“Dim your lights,” I mutter, leaning forward, trying to avert my eyes from the blinding light in my rear-view and side mirrors. It creeps into view anyway as the car inches closer. “Stop tailgating, asshole! Three car length!”

God forbid an animal dart out in front of me. If I slam on brakes, this guy will eat my bumper.

I try not to pay attention.

The road winds through the woods. An eldritch mist snakes its way around the trees and blurs the outer edges of what little vision my headlights offer. No houses, not for miles for now. No streetlights. If not for the ever-present powerlines, I’d wonder if I’d gone truly offmap. I suppress a shudder.

The car behind me creeps closer, and my eyes well up from the searing light.

“Just pass,” I groan, eyes flitting from the road to the mirrors. I ease my foot off of the accelerator—hoping they get impatient or at least follow less closely—but they remain upsettingly close.

It’s too bright to see into the car behind me—or even what kind of vehicle it is. I begin to wonder if it’s a cop, and I have a taillight out. I wonder if it’s some backwoods hooligan, with nothing better to do than harass other drivers...

The vehicle’s lights suddenly vanish, plunging the road behind me into primordial blackness.
I wonder
if it’s something
else.

The wind stops. My skin prickles in odd places. A cold, gnawing knot forms deep in my stomach. I squint into the mirror to see if the vehicle is still back there. There is nothing within the faint, red illumination of my taillights. Beyond that, I see only darkness. The yawning void of space; the unplumbed depths of an ocean trench. I gaze into the abyss in my rearview mirror.

It does not gaze back.