David Wisehart: Blood Alley

Ramirez saw the phantom figure of a man leave his body. The phantom drove a ghost car. It sped forward, out of the patrol car, surging ahead.

The Highwayman.

He’s real.

The chill left him, but Ramirez’s hands on the wheel were numb and unresponsive.

The patrol car drifted off the road.

On the radio, the dispatcher said: “All units! Accident inside the Devil’s Tunnel. Multiple vehicles. Casualties reported. All units, all units.”

The patrol car rumbled off the road and into the desert. Ramirez gripped the steering wheel between his elbows and turned the car back toward the road. As he regained control of his body, Ramirez continued the pursuit.

In the mirror Claire saw the ghost car pass into the Hummer. The Highwayman was in the car, coming straight for her.

He wants me.

She was buckled in, driving fast, with nowhere to go.

The Highwayman entered Claire’s body.

Dakota screamed, “Claire!”

Claire felt a sudden chill.

You can’t have me , she told him.

I already have you, the Highwayman replied.

Her chest heaved. Her neck tensed. Her scream became more defiant.

“No!”

She spun the steering wheel.

The car veered left into the opposing lane.

Her body separated from the Highwayman.

And Claire was herself again.

The ghost car slowed, the Highwayman dropped back into the Hummer’s rear seat, and into Dakota’s body. Possessing her.

Dakota tensed and screamed. “ Ahhhhh! ”

“Fight him! Dakota! Fight him!”

Dakota’s eyes glowed green.

Her scream died, and she spoke with a guttural voice: “ Claire… ”

Claire returned to the right lane and tried to keep her eyes on the road. “Dakota, don’t give in to him.”

“ Too late, Claire, ” said Dakota.

Dakota removed her seat belt.

“Dakota, no—!”

The girl leaped forward and attacked Claire. Hitting her, choking her with immense, unnatural strength. Claire couldn’t breathe.

She’s going to kill me.

Claire elbowed Dakota in the face and pulled herself free from the girl’s death grip. Dakota grabbed the steering wheel and climbed on top of Claire. Claire opened the car door and tried to push the girl out.

Clinging to Claire, Dakota dangled half-way out of the car, her head nearly dragging on the asphalt. The yellow median line pulsed beneath her. She tried to pull Claire out the door, but Claire was strapped in.

“Fight him! Dakota! Please! Don’t make me do this.”

The green glow faded from Dakota’s eyes. The girl stopped struggling. For a moment Dakota seemed herself again.

“Help me,” Dakota whimpered.

Claire saw bright lights ahead, coming fast. An oncoming patrol car. Claire’s open door was partway in the opposing lane.

The patrol car struck the open door. The door slammed into Dakota’s head.

Claire heard the snap! of the girl’s spine.

The Highwayman was thrown from Dakota’s body. He landed on the road as the Hummer sped on.

Still driving, Claire pulled Dakota’s limp body from the doorway and moved her clumsily into the passenger seat.

“Leave me,” the dying girl said.

“We’re going to make it to the tunnel—”

“Let me go.”

“Hold on. There’s a hospital—”

Dakota’s eyes rolled up in her head.

“Dakota?”

The dying girl whispered, “No one gets out alive…”

And fell silent.

No!

Claire shook Dakota. “No!” Claire banged her fist on the steering wheel. She pounded on the car horn. She screamed her pain into the night. In a mad frenzy, Claire swerved from lane to lane. Finally, exhausted, she straightened out the car and wept.

“Don’t leave me here alone with him.”

The Highwayman rose to his feet. He saw that Officer Ramirez was back on the road, chasing Claire. The Highwayman stepped into the path of the patrol car, re-entered the body of Ramirez, and seized control.

Claire raced past a road sign: “DEVIL’S PASS—5 Miles.”

The lifeless body of Dakota lay in the passenger seat beside her.

No time for tears.

A patrol car pursued her. In the mirror, the driver appeared to be a policeman, but Claire sensed the presence of another.

Fowler.

The patrol car slammed into the back of the Hummer.

Claire gritted her teeth. “Oh yeah?”

Time to fight back.

She saw the patrol car coming up for another hit.

Claire swerved into the opposing lane.

And hit the brakes.

The Hummer dropped back. The patrol car surged, coming up beside Claire. As he pulled even with her, the possessed cop turned, smiled, and blew her a kiss.

“Kiss this,” she said, and spun the wheel in his direction.

The Hummer sideswiped the patrol car.

Knocked it off the road.

The black-and-white spun out on the dirt shoulder.

Tumbled over the desert.

Landing on its wheels.

Claire raced ahead, gaining distance, gaining time.

The road climbed and turned as it wended the last five miles toward the tunnel at Devil’s Pass. The Hummer slowed as it rose through the mountains. To the left was a guard rail. Beyond that, a sheer cliff.

A petroleum tanker truck idled on the shoulder ahead.

The trucker honked at Claire as she approached.

Dude, don’t mess with me.

The tanker truck pulled onto the highway, cutting Claire off.

“Oh, come on,” she muttered.

She sped into the opposing lane to pass the lumbering behemoth.

The truck driver stuck his arm out his window and waved for her to pass.

As she passed him, the driver honked again.

Asshole.

Then Claire saw the burn scars on the driver’s ruined face.

She recognized him.

Joshua!

It was the truck driver from Dinah’s Diner, the one who had tried to help them push their dead car into the garage, who tried to warn them about Blood Alley.

But he left hours ahead of us.

Claire powered down the passenger window.

Joshua shouted out to her, “Thought you might need some help!”

“He’s right behind me!”

Joshua nodded. “Tunnel’s up ahead. I got your back!”

“Oh, God. Thank you!”

Claire pulled in front of Joshua, her knight in shining armor.

Joshua crawled his big rig up the winding hill. With a full load of petroleum in the twin tanks, he wasn’t about to break any land speed records. He shifted from granny gear into second, then tested third. He saw a patrol car coming up fast behind him.

There you are, you dirty devil. I’m ready for you.

He saw the patrol car angling to pass.

“Not this time.”

Joshua steered left to block the opposing lane.

I’ll knock you right off that cliff.

Taking the hint, the patrol car fell back behind the tanker truck.

Oh, you know that trick, do you?

The patrol car swerved to the right.

The tanker truck cut him off.

Sidewinding from shoulder to shoulder, the patrol car searched for an opening, but Joshua was one step ahead of him, anticipating each move.

Together they swerved side to side, faster and faster until—

The tanker truck fishtailed.

Damnit.

Joshua lost control of the road.

The rear fuel tank scraped the guard rail, throwing hot sparks.

If the rail gave way, the tank would go over the cliff.

And so would Joshua.

The rail held.

The wheels found traction.

Joshua regained control.

He swung the tank off the rail and back onto the road, but gave the patrol car the opening it needed to pass on the left.