***
A car horn blared. Toby jumped, disoriented. Realizing he was straddling two lanes, he pulled his steering wheel to the left, into one lane. His breath caught. What’s going on?
Yes, driving, that’s right. No, something is off. He had been running, scared. Something was after him. But no, it was night. The late afternoon sun was still shining in his driver side window. He reached up and rubbed his forehead. It was wet with sweat. Toby cranked up the A/C.
He had been on the road for too long. He must have nodded off and become disoriented. But the visions in his head could not have come from nodding off for a fraction of a second, could they? It could not have been more than that; his car was still on the road – even if not driving straight. He remembered not having money to pay the toll, he had a flat tire, was attacked, and was going to be eaten by… trolls? He knew that was ridiculous. It felt so real, though – like it happened, and then he came back to where he was now. Impossible. Could it have been some kind of hallucination? Next chance he got, he was going to stop, stretch his legs, and get some caffeine.
He took some breaths to calm his nerves, and started drumming his hands to the beat of the music coming from the speakers. Ahead, Toby saw a large green sign announcing a toll booth ahead. He had not reached the end of the turnpike. He thought he still had an hour and a half to go. He did not remember seeing a toll station at this point in the road in the directions he’d looked up online.
He thought about the toll roads in the city where he lived. There was a special lane for people with toll passes. All they had to do was drive through. There was a camera that would read their pass. If they did not have a toll pass, it would record their license plate and a bill would come in the mail. In fact, some of the new ones did not take change at all.
He pulled into the kiosk and counted out his change. As he reached to drop his change in the slot, he had a sense of déjà vu. He hesitated, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Running, scared. Something grabbed him from behind. Toby jerked. A gruff voice, “You pay toll, or you do not pass.” Toby jerked and then gasped, then realized he was shaking. He glanced around. Did he actually just hear a voice? What the heck was going on here?
Toby looked at the change in his hand. There would be sixty-five cents left over once he paid the toll. He studied the machine. There were slots for cash or coins only. He looked around the pay station. The only other lane had a glass enclosed kiosk, attended by a creepy older man. Goose bumps rose on his arms.
Toby felt light-headed. He was pretty sure he was going to be sick. He thought he remembered seeing some little country road about a mile back. It was the only thing resembling an exit he had seen since getting on this road. Surely it would lead to a gas station. He would get caffeine, food, stretch his legs and find an ATM so he would have enough cash to get off this road and into civilization.
Feeling only slightly better, he put his car into reverse, backed out of the toll booth, and did a U-turn. He watched carefully as he back tracked, certain he would miss the road if he blinked.
Finally! He turned onto the tiny road without bothering with the blinker. After exiting, the road curved to the right. To Toby’s extreme agitation, there was a toll booth just after the bend in the road. Fine, he thought. This is fine. I am going to find an ATM anyway.
He paid the burly, angry-looking man his $3.00, and then pulled out onto the road. There was apparently nothing on this road but more trees. Well, if he wasn’t back woods before, he was now. He would probably have to drive a little ways to find civilization anyway. A beaten up, old pick-up truck passed going the other direction. See, Toby thought, signs of life already – somewhat.
Toby thought about his reports waiting on him. Maybe he could get Gary, one of the guys that owed him a favor to pull some numbers for him. That would give him a jump start.
He checked his cell to see if he had coverage. Two bars – perfect. He scrolled down to Gary’s name, tapped it, and then tapped “Send Message.” He glanced at his phone and started tapping in his message with his right thumb, then lifted his eyes back to the road.
Toby glanced down at his phone again, hit backspace to delete a typo. At the washboard sound of his tires on the shoulder of the road, Toby gently pulled the wheel to the left and looked back up.
A boy was standing in the road, looking at him; one foot on the shoulder, one in his lane. “Aargh!” Toby dropped his phone and jerked the wheel hard to the left, barely missing the boy.
He tried to straighten the wheel, but the tires had no traction. He could feel his little car glide sideways over the road. The front tires grabbed onto something, and the rear end jerked and swung around in a circle. Toby fought for control. Instead, he saw pavement coming at him from the passenger side window. Pavement? Rolling, rolling. Blackness.
***
Voices. Grinding metal. A flash of light. A whiff of something, some sickly sweet burning something. Black.
Toby clawed his way out of the sea of blackness swallowing him. He could hear voices clearly now. He tried to move, but was strapped to something. Pain. There was a bright light. He tried to open his eyes, but the light was blinding. He heard someone groan – no, that sound came from his own throat.
When he finally managed to open his eyes, he could see people in gray uniforms. He realized he was on the inside of an ambulance. He felt a rush of relief mingled with fear. Something bad had happened, but he was alive. The pain was suddenly so intense, he wanted to cry out, but couldn’t.
The paramedic nearest him spoke. “Just relax, we have you now.” Toby focused on the woman. He noticed her gray-streaked black hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. His chest tightened as a flash of a memory assaulted him.
She turned dark eyes boring into his. Jowls protruded from the sides of her face, giving her the appearance of a bulldog. Her pale, sickly skin had an inhuman look to it. He sucked in a breath and tried to get off the stretcher. He was strapped in.
“Sh, sh, sh, now,” the husky voice told him. She held up a needle and tapped out the air bubbles. Toby noticed the long and thickened nails on her fingers as she tapped the syringe. “No worries. The pain will be all gone soon.”
The paramedic came toward him, a smile on her face. Toby jerked against his restraints, and his screams penetrated the night, muffled by the walls of the ambulance.
The End
###
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Tina
Author Bio
Tina Stickles lives in East Texas with her husband, a dog, and a cat. She has three grown children and three grandchildren. She writes poetry and various types of stories; although, for her day job, she is an LVN. Tina is also a member of the East Texas Writer’s Guild.
Also by Tina Stickles:
Moonshiner’s Revenge
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