Pick Up If You Dare
I was driving down a lonely highway one brisk, autumn evening. My commute was dull and monotonous, with just a few road signs and blind turns to break the arduous cycle.
I was contemplating a change, and what happened next definitely expedited those plans.
With several miles left to travel, I spotted a well-dressed gentleman standing on the side of the road with an umbrella over his shoulder and his thumb out.
I slowed down thinking, Why not, at least I’ll have some company.
I pulled over, rolled down the window, the man rushed over, and his hand was inches from the door handle.
“Want a ride?” I asked. “Where are you headed?”
His face broke into a dashing smile.
“Many thanks,” he said. “Just a few miles down the road. I’m tired of walking.”
I unlocked the door, and he settled into the passenger seat. He gave me directions, and we fell into a companionable silence for a few minutes.
The man began to fidget. He reached for his pocket but stopped when he felt my eyes on him.
My foot pressed down on the accelerator. I wanted to get him to his destination as soon as I could. The air in the vehicle was turning sour with anxiety.
In the dying light, I saw metal glinting in the man’s hand, and I took the next corner at a breakneck pace. This shook the blade from his hand, and I slammed on the breaks.
“I’m sorry, Buddy,” I said. ” Your ride ends here. I don’t want any trouble.”
The man’s laugh was hideous and spine chilling. “Not many people stand up to me,” he said.
In the blink of an eye, he was gone. A dark chill permeated the car.
I was baffled, no houses were anywhere to be seen, save for one overgrown graveyard.
I slammed my foot on the gas and got the hell out of there.
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