The Highway

The cold was intense. The rain fell with a brutal force against the dark, slick highway that didn’t contain many street lamps. A dark-skinned girl—petite and strong—walked along the highway. Her clothes were soaked with blood and rain, and shredded as if she’d been mauled by something with large claws. The speed that she moved could be compared to that of a snail or turtle. Through the bullets of rain, an old yellow light shone brightly from behind her, making her curvy, shadowy silhouette a moving shadow as it approached fast.

Her pace did not get any quicker, nor did her attention turn to the dull rays piercing through the droplets of rain. Numbly, she continued to slosh her mud-soaked boots through the puddles with each limp step. A weak metal clanking told her that the source of light, which turned out to be an outdated U-Haul truck that needed a major tune-up, was approaching.

The driver wasn’t an old man. He wasn’t young either. Kind of in the perfect middle ground. Shaggy brown curls fell over his bright blue eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows when he noticed the silhouette of someone in this weather. Unfortunately, his rental did not have power window control. No matter. He handled it like a pro. His foot left the pedal, stabilized a grip on the wheel with his left hand, leaned, and spun the handle with his right.

The wheels squeaked as the driver slowed down to speak out to her. The rain made it difficult to make out the person’s features, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care who it could be, only that someone was in need.

"Hey, you’re going to catch pneumonia out there! You want a ride?”

The girl proceeded to walk, having no reaction to his words. The driver fell back a few feet, unsure of what his next move should be. The lights of the truck illuminated the young wanderer, which helped him make out who she was. She wore a long-sleeved, light blue, off the shoulder top with dark skinny jeans. As he looked closer, not only were there violent rips in her clothes, but her entire left side was covered in blood. She was halfway hunched over, clutching her fingers into a deep wound on her bloody side—right below the breast.

The driver immediately slammed on his brakes—even though he was going ten MPH—and ran out to assist the girl. “Please, let me help you! You are injured!”

His boots quickly splashed toward her, imagining what hell she could’ve gone through. The intensity of the rain began to calm into a drizzle rather than a downpour as he arrived at her side. He pleaded with her.

"Please, let me take you somewhere for help! There’s a hospital fifteen minutes in the other direction. You’re seriously hurt.” He placed a firm and caring hand on her shoulder. Her body felt frigid and stiff from the cold.

A reaction. She stopped in her tracks. Her hair clung to her face and shoulders, shivers radiating from her body. With her head hung low, her body moved with little strength as she turned to face him. He tested her balance by releasing the stabling grip he had on her shoulder. Surprisingly, she could stand on her own. He swept the hair from her face to see dark, wide eyes, with fear, pain, and confusion in every golden fleck. His heart ached to see her like this.

“What’s your name? I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her lips barely moved to speak, but she was overcome by an intense wave of pain. Her mouth gaped open, releasing a shrill and painful scream, revealing sharp canines. She dug her nails deeper into the wound in hopes of numbing the pain with more pain, but instead of helping, it caused her to lose consciousness. Instantly, she dropped to the ground.

The driver’s strong stance caught her before she hit the wet concrete. He knelt with her body in his arms. “Don’t worry, I’m going to get you fixed up.” Being careful of her wound, he carried her into the truck and wrapped a towel around her wound and a blue fuzzy blanket to keep her warm.

***

Darkness, with violent streaks of red, played within her unconscious thoughts. Suddenly, intense rumbling and creepy metal creaking brought her conscious mind back to reality. Her eyes snap open as her body slowly adjusts to her new environment. All her surroundings were hazy as the rumbling continued, that is, until she noticed which highway the rumbling was taking her. She was going in the opposite direction, which is what she was trying to avoid. Her body shot upright, and her eyes were full of rage. Her voice was small; an innocent voice that had seen too much.

“Where am I?”

“Save your energy. We are close to the hospital.”

Her thoughts swirled as she tried to comprehend her current situation. She looked around frantically, trying to exit the truck. “I don’t want your help! I want out of this truck!” Her words reverberated as a growl that shook the metal cabin of the vehicle. Right then, her eyes shot at him, glowing an intense crimson red.

“Whoa! T-t-take it easy, now.” He spun out at 60 MPH. Desperately, he grabbed the steering wheel to calm the squealing wheels of the truck.

“I said no!” Consumed by rage, her nails slashed into the driver’s neck. It was quick, but violent. The truck lost all control, followed by a single beat of silence. No words, no thoughts, just the sounds of the dying driver’s breath gurgling with every exhale, alongside the metal of the truck crunching as they spun into a ditch.

Everything was still. The rain had stopped, and the driver was dead. Along with some dry clothes and his wallet, she took every ounce of blood he had left in him. And before leaving him to rot she said:

“You shouldn’t have stopped.”