Even as the exclamation about her blouse broke free from her lips, Abby knew her clandestine stop at the Sip n’ Zip had cost her dearly this morning.
“Be quiet, and drive!” came a harsh whisper from behind her seat. The words were desperate to her ears, their source expending energy to project without engaging voice – sounding without creating too much sound.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Abby shrieked.
“I’m going! I’m going with you! Now!” If it were possible for a whisper to shout, this was the emission of the crouching figure, while the hard ring thrust further against the base of her neck.
Oh God! He’s going to blow my brains out! I’m going to die right here at the Sip n’ Zip!
Something chilly was snaking its way between her breasts; startled again, she looked down and saw that her hand still loosely held the Monster as it dropped small splashes of sugar-loaded liquid with every shake of her terrified body. I’m going to be so sticky! WHAT?! Who cares?! He’s going to kill me! or worse… Then came the tears, and the world turned to panicky waves, uncontrollable terror.
“Drive!” shrieked the whisper.
“Anywhere, just go!”
With this, the whisper escalated to a near tone, sounded like it could have been young, but Abby wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter because it or he was pressing a deadly weapon into her delicate flesh, and again she caught herself thinking of the asanine – worrying the gun would leave a permanent mark on her neck, because she was fair-skinned and marked easy, but why does it matter when evil has come into your car to haunt you, to force you to drive ‘anywhere’, to plan to violate you, to do damage so much worse than stained clothing or sticky cleavage or superficial skin marks?
She guided her shaking hand, lowered the ever-spilling Monster down to the cup holder on the console beside her seat before reaching for the car’s gear shift; her hand was nearly paralyzed, unable to depress the shift button, for every synapse was needed by her mind to generate panic. She managed to nudge the shifter, realized at same time the crouching shadow shoved her head with his angry weapon that she hadn’t yet started the ignition. Fear left a slight passage for a streak of anger, and she nearly turned her head, but thought better. The anger did bring calm enough to her fingers to pick up keys, fumble them into ignition, and start the engine.
“OK, now go!” came the voice, no longer much of a whisper.
As she shifted to drive, her memory brought forth a children’s movie she’d seen when she was a little girl. She couldn’t remember its title, but in the movie, the kids had the power to turn themselves invisible whenever they held their breath. She did this – held her breath, wished she would turn invisible.
– to be continued –