I lay awake, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the house to fall asleep. Soon my dad’s chainsaw snores let me know that he’s slumbering peacefully.
I glance over at my sister’s bed and watch the steady rise and fall of her dreaming breath. I clamor out from beneath the covers, slipping on a pair of socks from the hamper.
I hear a floorboard creak and freeze, eyes searching the darkness. Relief as I hear the thud of one of our cats jumping onto a counter. Quickly, I shove stuffed animals under my blanket and crack open my bedroom door.
The muted sound of a fan in my brother’s room concealed my steps as I slid the door to the stairwell open. Holding my breath I shut it, turning the knob to reduce the click as it locked into place.
I moved down the stairs, skipping the third one from the bottom. Creaky piece of junk.
The boots I left by the sliding doors casted an eerie silhouette as I moved towards them. I felt in my pocket and realized I’d forgotten my trusty flip phone by my bed.
Oh well, I’m out of minutes and don’t have unlimited texting anyways.
I won’t need my phone when I get to the party.
I sneak out the door and the cool September air greets me. An owl hoots somewhere in the distance and I admire the farmland I’m surrounded by.
Brittney’s party was in a barn about three miles away. Her grandpa’s old, unused barn that fell into disrepair after he’d had a new one built closer to the house.
I grab the string gym bag I left underneath a tarp, two water bottles full of vodka and my dad’s flask half full of some murky liquor.
I climb on my bike and ride behind the house, avoiding the motion lamp in the driveway. I guide my tires onto the gravel road and set my course for the barn.
I pedaled, chest rising and falling as I trudged my way up an especially steep hill. I was between my parents and Brittany’s grandpas farm now. Trees stood tall and thick on either side of the street lamp vacant road. Some of the electrical poles had glowing boxes that splashed enough light, alongside the spattering of moon and starts.
Suddenly the road illuminated. Strange. I could count one one hand the cars that go down this road each day. Probably a group of kids heading to Brittany’s party.
I moved my bike closer to the side of the narrow gravel, the reflector on the back of my blink blinking as the car got closer.
It slowed to a crawl when it was three car lengths away from me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and a cold sweat dotted my forehead. I let out a shaky breath as the car passed me without slowing more.
I eyed the license plate next to the dim bulb and it read Tennessee. Currently we’re in a small Northeastern rural Missouri town.
For some reason seeing the license plate sent lightning through my veins.
Why would they be here. This road doesn’t connect to anything major; just an intricate working of small farm roads, dotted with very few houses.
I’d never seen this car before. I don’t know much about cars, but I can remember how they look. Terror seized me as the car pulled over and came to a stop fifty feet from me.
Inside a voice screamed at me to turn around and go the other way. I did. Swinging my bike around I pedaled as hard as I could. Another set of headlights blared to life in front of me, glancing behind me I noticed someone had gotten out of the car.
Panic squeezed my heart like a vice. I didn’t trust the other car. Most of the kids drove their dad’s old farm trucks. These were nice, slick cars. Cars that avoid the messy gravel dust and potholes of roads like this.
“You need a ride?” An eerie voice lifted from the man in the first car.
I felt like I couldn’t breathe and all I was doing was putting myself closer to another strange vehicle. It stopped and a shorter man hopped out, a rope was rolled around his arm.
Without a second thought I dumped my bike and took off towards the woods. Feet slamming against the ground in fuzzy Ugg’s that were not made for this.
If I kept running straight I’d go into the woods. To my left was a cornfield, starting to turn yellow and crunchy in the September nights.
To my right is a sheer drop down to a small creek where farmers feed irrigation from.
I shoot a glance behind me and see two flashlights bobbing eerily towards me.
Decide! The voice inside me screams.
The corn would conceal me more quickly and assuredly, but it would be loud and easy for them to track my movements.
In the woods I could move more quietly, find somewhere to watch and hide. I know the woods, I grew up exploring them in my free time. Maybe not this patch exactly, but it was my best chance.
I was exhausted from the bike, from the lack of sleep. Adrenaline pushed me to keep going.
I could hear the two men shouting at me, I’m not sure what they were saying. The blood was roaring so loud in my ears I would be deaf to a gong.
I’m not worried about predators. It’s the early 2000’s, bears aren’t around here and neither are mountain lions. I fear only the two souls crashing through the field behind me.
Part 2 is coming! I should have it up sometime tomorrow. This encounter still haunts me almost 20 years later
EDIT: something came up and I’m sorry I didn’t get part 2 out yet. Give me a couple of days to get my life in order. Thanks for the upvotes!