A Fork in the Road:Part Two

Staring through the rear view mirror, Alison watched her tormentor moving closer.

He was level with the back of the car. She wished that she could ram it into reverse and back right into him but she’d tried getting reverse, and like all the other gears, it wouldn't connect.

She watched as a silver-lit hand reached out to knock on the driver's window.

‘Are you all right, love? Do you need any help? What's the problem?’

‘Go away,’ Alison screamed. ‘Don't come near me.’

‘Hey, hey, easy, it's okay. I promise I'm not going to hurt you, even if you did almost kill me back there,’ he finished on a gentle laugh. ‘I know a bit about cars. Why don't you let me take a look for you?’

He seemed real enough but it was her first encounter with a potential ghost. He didn’t look threatening, but that came with no guarantees.

He was early twenties, possibly even younger. The
moonlight and shadows distorted his face but he had nice features. Alison's nerves were in ragged tatters and she was beyond any reason or persuasion.

‘Please. Please just go away and leave me alone.’

She was sobbing and all of her previous gumption about self-protection had flown away like a bat in the night. The last word tailed into a wail that chilled her blood and pitched to a screaming,
hysterical crescendo. It spent in a terrified moan and she rocked backwards and forwards on her seat, tears streaming down her cheeks.

‘Lady listen, I know what you're thinking.’ He laughed softly and she could hardly hear him through the closed window. I'm not the Phantom
Hitcher, you know? I'm just a college student who was out with my mates and missed the last bus home. I tell you, lady, I have been crapping it
walking along here alone. I was so relieved when you came along; until you tried to mow me down, that is.’ He finished on a nervous chuckle and sounded almost as scared as she was.

She gave him a wan smile through the tears, but her mind was shutting down on her and all she knew was that she was more scared than she'd ever been in her life. What if he wasn't a ghost? What if he was a serial killer? She'd seen the film 'Hitcher'.

All kinds of scenarios ran through her mind; not one of them played scenes of a helpful young man sorting out her car for her, and then, to their mutual benefit, escorting her to the end of this nightmare road.

‘Listen love,’ he continued, ‘I can't just walk off and leave you like this, it's not safe. Why don't I have a look under the bonnet and see
if I can locate the problem? I heard the gearbox giving you trouble and I have an idea what it might be. Look, you don't even have to open the
window; just release the bonnet catch for me.’

Alison couldn't think. She was confused and her terror was numbing her thoughts; all she wanted to do was curl up on her seat and go to sleep.

The rational nurse in her said that she was lapsing into shock and needed to get a grip on her senses. But what if it's just a ruse to get under the bonnet and disable the car? she thought. What
then? The fact that the car was already disabled failed to compute; she was beyond logic.

‘Come on lady, help me to help both of us, will you? I think I can sort this out in a couple of minutes and then both of us can get away from
this hellhole. It's bloody cold out here and I don't know about me scaring you, but you seem pretty scary, yourself, right now.’

He laughed again and she saw that he was little more than a boy. Alison felt the first stirrings of sanity returning to her fuddled mind.

Without giving her subconscious permission to, she watched herself as she leaned forward in her seat and released the bonnet catch.

‘Good girl’ the man cooed, as though talking to a distraught child.

‘We'll soon have this sorted and then you can be on your way.’

She noticed that he said, you, and for the first time she thought that maybe she would get out of this alive.

‘I'm Jack by the way. Do you have a torch?’

Ah, see, here we go. This is where he fools me into opening the door and then rapes and murders me. Her head was off on its macabre trip again, but the logical part of her mind still wanted to get home before sunrise. She reached into the opposite door caddy and pulled out the torch.

‘Move away from the car,’ she didn’t recognise her own voice.

He backed up with his hands held out in front of him to show that he wasn't concealing any weapons.

Alison wound down the window and threw the torch at his feet. She tried to wind it back up, but in her hurry the handle wouldn't turn and valuable seconds were lost before it rose and locked her into a cocoon of safety.

He could have jumped you then, she told herself. If he’d wanted to harm you, that was the ideal opportunity. She managed a weak smile. ‘Thank you,’ she muttered.

The man nodded and she felt as though some level of trust had been sanctioned between them. He disappeared under the bonnet. She heard him swear softly to himself once, but the only other sounds were of things being prodded and pulled.

When he came out he had a grin on his face. ‘Thought so, linkage,’ he said.

Alison’s fear must have been clear to him even through the steamy window.

‘It's nothing,’ he said in explanation, ‘I can have it fixed in two seconds, but we do have a problem, a small but vital piece of wiring
called the linkage has fallen off the car and it's not going anywhere without it. Don’t worry it can’t be far away; I'll go back up the road to
where you skidded and see if I can find it. Want to get out and help me look?’

Alison stiffened.

‘Joke, I was joking. Its okay, I won't be long. And I know this is a redundant statement, but stay in the car, keep the doors locked and don't open
them to anyone before I return. Understand?’

She nodded and Jack strode up the road, shining the torch from side to side as he walked; soon he’d rounded the corner and disappeared from sight and Alison felt terrified and alone. Her nerves were shot.

When he came back into view, his grin told her that he’d been successful and she felt a wave of
relief wash over her. The renegade piece of tubing was soon fixed back into position and at his request she fired up the car and put it into
gear. Talking through the tightly closed window was difficult, but she followed his instruction and put the car through a complete gear test and it slid into each position smoothly.

The tears - which had dried up to leave an empty
numbness - returned and Alison repeated, Thank you over and over again.

‘Listen love, the best thanks you could give me would be to give me a lift to the end of the road. I won't trouble you to take me out of your way. Do you think you could trust me just a little? I know you're scared, honey, and with good reason out on this road in the middle of the night; but I promise you, I mean you no harm. I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not a ghost.’

She didn’t move.

‘Come on, when have you ever heard of a ghost fixing its victim’s car? You want to get off this road and so do I. How’s about it, eh? One good turn and all that?’

Alison felt detached as she leaned across the seat and opened the passenger side door. The stranger climbed in.

‘Thank you so much. As I said before, I'm Jack. Pleased to meet you.’

He held out his hand and Alison stared at it, making no movement. After a couple of seconds he gave up and touched her on the arm in a friendly gesture of comradeship-in-adversity.

Alison couldn't remember what happened next.

In that second, her mind caved in. All she knew was that there was a man in her car who was going to kill her.

‘Don't touch me,’ she screamed.

The knife came alive in her hand and she thrust it again and again. So much blood, she remembered that. So, so much blood.

~*~

The party was boring and Alison had made her excuses and escaped rather than suffer the torture of staying the night as planned.

She sat at the fork in the road trying to make a decision. Her petrol was low. She clicked her indicator left. The drive down The Mosses would be fun. It was lovely at night; she always found it quiet and relaxing and the moonlight made it all so romantic.

Four miles up ahead a young lad returning home from a night at the pub hoped to hitch a lift with some kind stranger.