Ken Douglas - Nightwitch

“ Don’t shut off the engine,” he said and she obeyed, wondering what he was going to do next. She sighed as the light changed and the police car drove off into the night.

“ What are you going to do with us?” Miles asked.

“ I have a little girl, Carolina,” he said, ignoring Miles and addressing her.

“ Carolina Coffee?” Sarah asked. She turned and looked at him in the dim light. She did see a resemblance.

“ Yeah.”

“ She’s in my class.” She felt better. Surely this man wouldn’t tell them who he was if he intended to harm them.

“ You’re her teacher?”

“ Yes.”

“ Then I hope you get out of this night alive.”

“ What are you talking about?” Miles’ voice was caught between a whine and a whisper.

“ Quiet, Miles,” Sarah said. “I want to hear.” She tried to see into his eyes, but the darkness hid too much. He sounded sincere, though and the more he talked, the safer they would be.

“ I’m a thief,” he said, continuing to ignore Miles. “I stole something and now the owner wants it back.”

“ Then give it back.”

“ I don’t have it, but it wouldn’t make any difference, she’d kill me anyway.”

“ And Carolina?” She wondered if the man was paranoid. He was sounding that way.

“ I’m afraid the old girl thinks Carolina has it.”

“ Does she?” Sarah decided it would be best to humor the man.

“ Yes.”

“ Why don’t you call the police and turn yourself in? They’d protect your daughter.”

“ She’d kill them.”

“ You’re crazy,” Miles said. Sarah clenched her teeth. How come he couldn’t shut up? If they wanted to get out of this, they were going to have to play along with the man. Couldn’t Miles see that?

“ Why don’t you let us go and take the car? We won’t say anything.” Sarah hoped the soothing sound of her voice would calm him.

“ Miles would.”

She didn’t answer, because she knew he was right. The last thing she wanted was for this man to think she was lying to him. She was afraid their survival depended on her gaining his trust.

“ What are we going to do now, Mr. Coffee? I can call you that, can’t I?”

“ Call me John.”

“ Well?”

“ Get me to the highway and you can go.”

“ Are you going to tell me anymore?”

“ Only one thing. If you see a wolf in the road, don’t hesitate, run it down.”

“ Can I ask why?”

“ She’ll be expecting you to stop. Most do. It’s always fatal.”

“ I don’t know if I can run down a defenseless animal.”

“ Listen, Sarah, you might think I’m sitting here full of bullshit till it flows out my mouth. That’s okay, I don’t mind. But if you see a wolf blocking our way, you have two choices, step on the gas and run it down and maybe live to see the sun come up, or you can stop, but it isn’t going to get out of the way, and this puny little station wagon isn’t going to keep it out.”

“ Alright, if I see a wolf, I’ll run it down,” she said, hoping to calm him. She glanced over at Miles and was surprised to see him covered in sweat and cowering against the door. His hand was creeping toward the handle. She couldn’t believe it. He was going to run.

And he did. He flicked the door handle up and jumped out of the car. He was slow and John Coffee could have killed him with the knife. But he didn’t. Instead he started to open his door to go after him when a roaring sound like she’d never heard before cut through her senses and she saw a wolf-like animal in the center of the street, eyes blazing, smoke rising from its snout.

Miles was running in the other direction, away from the wolf and away from her. He didn’t look back and he didn’t see the wolf.

“ If you don’t do something quick it’ll get bored and go after Miles. It thrives on fear.”

She tightened her arms on the wheel as he climbed over into the front seat. “Ready?” she said.

“ Ready,” he answered. She floored the tank-like Volvo just as the wolf looked away from them, toward the running man. It looked back too late. Sarah felt a sharp thud as the Volvo crashed into the wolf’s chest and she heard a crunching sound as the wheels rolled over its body.

“ Keep going,” he yelled, but she slammed on the brakes and turned her head around. She wanted to see if Miles was okay, but she couldn’t see him, because her vision was blocked by the ball of red flame shooting skyward into the overcast cloud cover.

“ Where will he go?” John Coffee asked.

“ Home, most likely, to call the police.”

“ Can you stop him?”

She spun the car around, but they didn’t have far to go. Miles had collapsed on the sidewalk about two blocks away. She pulled over to the curb, on the wrong side of the street, and jumped out of the car. She bent over him, then looked up at John Coffee, who slid over behind the wheel.

“ He fainted,” she said.

“ Can you keep him quiet about this?”

“ I think so. He’ll hate losing his car, though.”

“ Car like this, he must have insurance.”

“ He has insurance for everything.”

“ I’m sorry about all this, Sarah,” he said, “but I had no choice.”

“ Will we be okay?”

“ If I was you, I’d pack a bag and get out of town for a few days. And I wouldn’t tell anyone where I was going.”

“ It’s that bad?”

“ She’s human, too. If she finds out who helped me, she’ll be coming for them. This is a small town, not many Volvos.”

“ Like a werewolf?”

“ Worse. She can be whatever she wants,” he said. Then he put his foot on the gas and drove away.

He kept the window down, inhaling the night, as he drove out of town and into the woods. He saw the streetlights in the rear view mirror as he passed the city limits sign. She would be back, and judging by how long it took her to recover last time, she would find him about halfway between Tampico and California’s Highway 1, about five miles away.

He punched the odometer button, sending the gauge back to zero-zero-zero. He kept glancing at it every few seconds. He expected her at the halfway point. Halfway between town and the highway. Halfway between life and death. He looked at the speedometer and kept the needle halfway between thirty and forty. It was dark and the road had many curves. There was no need to be reckless.

He shivered and sweat tickled him as it dripped from under his arms. He rubbed his elbows against his sides, without letting go of the steering wheel, forcing his shirt to soak up the sweat.

Zero-zero-two on the odometer and the dripping sweat was back. Zero-zero-four and he tightened his hands on the wheel, trying to shake the electric tingling sensation that was running up and down his spine. Zero-zero-six and it started to rain, hard. He was forced to roll up his window. Zero-zero-eight and the front window started to steam up. Zero-one-zero and he was forced to take his right hand off the wheel and wipe the steam away. He turned on the defroster. It didn’t work.

“ Damn,” he muttered. He felt that she was somehow responsible, but he knew she couldn’t be. He rubbed his elbows against his side again, but it was no use, his shirt was soaking. It was like he’d stepped into a sauna with his clothes on. His palms were wet and his right one was getting wetter as he kept wiping the window.

Zero-one-two and his stomach cramped. He hunched forward, waiting for the spasm to pass, zero-one-four and it did. Zero-one-five and a flash shot in front of the car, brushing the windshield, turning the rain water on it into steam.

She was early.

He slammed on the brakes, putting the car into a skid. The Volvo started sliding to the right. He turned the wheel into it, gently putting his foot back on the accelerator and giving it some gas, cursing himself for panicking.