Night Fright

by Gloria Watts

Anna drove down the narrow dirt road, dark beneath a canopy of trees. She drove slowly, unsure of the way to Banbury village and afraid of taking a wrong turn.  Already late, she knew her friend Elaine would be waiting impatiently. Suddenly, she swerved to avoid a small animal caught in her headlights.  She lost control of the wheel and narrowly missed an old oak tree before driving onto the verge and into a bramble hedge, bringing the car to a halt. Her heart thumping, she sat dazed as an eerie silence settled around her.  Moonlight played on the verge-side vegetation; silvered it into strange shapes that changed with the force of the wind.  Nervously she lit a cigarette and drew hard on the filter. The bite of tobacco hit the back of her throat bringing the calm she needed. Taking a deep breath, she turned the key in the ignition – tried again - nothing.

Keep cam…mustn't panic… inner thoughts swirled filling her head and shattered when a man appeared three or four yards from her car. Moonlight played on the blood oozing from a gash across his forehead. His rumpled shirt, muddy and patterned with crimson, clung to his broad frame.  His mouth hung slack without sound, or was it just that she heard nothing, caught up in the wave of terror that clutched her breath and forced a small scream from her lips.

As he fell to the ground, his body hitting the uneven dirt road, she sat watching him, her muscles tense - t his couldn't be happening to her. When he didn't move her mind raced – what to do next? She opened the car door, stepped out.  Her eyes swept the body for any sign of life.  When she heard a slow groan and saw his hands, fingers clawed as he clutched at the road trying to push himself upright, fear snaked through her and a small gasp left her dry lips. Uncertain, she took a step forward, waited a moment before taking another step, fought against her fear and as if in a slow motion dream walked towards him.  She knew she had to do something and cursed her lack of first-aid skills.  Close up Anna could see the man was breathing and her own sighs were ones of relief as she knelt down beside him.  

She heard the hum of the engine before the headlights of a car appeared.  The car crawled down the road towards her as she stood frantically waving both hands, her lips moving in a prayer, her whole being,

"Do you need help?"  His voice was pleasantly soft.

"Please, there's an injured man here."

The stranger left his car he walked to where she stood and then went to the body on the ground.  Her eyes followed his tall frame as he bent over the body; watched as he felt for signs of life.  It seemed an eternity before he glanced back at her and shrugged his shoulders.

"He's unconscious. I don't think we should move him." He hesitated, looked around at the empty road, the moonlit verges.  "There's nothing you can do.  Wait, I'll fetch a blanket. We should keep him warm, and get some help."

He walked past her back to his car.  Listening to his retreating footsteps, she kept her eyes fixed on the fallen body.  Seconds ticked by.  What was he doing?  At last, he was back blanket in his hands.  She watched as he covered the body and slipped a cushion beneath the man's head. When he spoke to Anna his voice was low, anxious. 

"Do you know this area?  Not the place to be driving on your own.  There's been a police warning; three women have been murdered over the past two months.  It's pretty lonely along these narrow lanes but there is a garage just before the next village."

His face softened, ‘You look all in.  Wait in your car and I'll go for help…to the garage…it's not far away.'

His words hung in the silence.

Fear twisted in Anna's stomach. She didn't want to be left with the injured man… to be left alone; here in the dark…no…she couldn't stay alone.   Better to be doing something…get help. Decide, she had to decide, should she stay or go with him ?  She hesitated, her mind refused to function; she looked up into his face, saw the blue eyes, the firm jaw and took a deep breath

"I could go with you…to the garage for help."

Time ticked away, lost in the surrounding silence.  He looked at her then back to the body on the ground.  Her breath rose, a spiral of haze held in the chill air as she waited for him to speak. 

"We could leave your car with the hazard lights on.   We wouldn't be gone long."

A worried frown stretched across his forehead, was reflected in his eyes. ‘I'm wondering if you should wait here, stay with the injured man.  Suppose he come too?'  His eyes meet hers, ‘but…if you're sure, it's okay with me?'

Anna nodded.

"My name's Alan, I was on my way to LittleHumpton."

He held out his hand.  It felt cool and smooth; his fingers firm as they clasped hers.  "It's lucky that I took a short cut.  There's never much traffic on this lane."

He opened the car door and she climbed in.  As he took the wheel, she noticed how strong his hands were.  Alan drove carefully, the car a small cocoon of warmth as it travelled the winding lane.  It was when he leaned forward and opened the flap in the dashboard, his hand settling on a pack of cigarettes that she saw the cell phone. Crazy thoughts… Why hadn't he phoned 999? Why not phone the garage?   Her eyes turned to his face, pale in the moonlight that filtered through the window.  She saw thin lips tightly closed, the muscles tense, and dark brown hair that flopped onto his forehead.  His eyes, why hadn't she noticed before, when he returned her look, were cold.   Her mind raced to recall his words, the words that had persuaded her to get into his car.  T hree women murdered…driving alone.  God, what was she doing ? She was in his car, where was he taking her?   Her body stiffened.  She'd made a mistake, a bad one.

Her eyes moved to his hands. The longer her eyes were on his hands the stronger they looked, long tapered fingers with large knuckles, the nails rounded; they were big hands, hands that could easily encircle a neck. What would it feel like, his fingers tight, squeezing....   Fear swirled the knots in her stomach, as sour bile crept to fill her mouth. She sat rigid, waiting.

The lane narrowed. Alan drove slowly; the overhanging trees blotted out the moonlight, leaving his face half hidden, impenetrable in the shadowy interior. Panic crept into the silence, hung intangible, as her eyes swept his sinewy body, his hands gripping the wheel.  She knew - alone, in a car with a man she'd never met before – a murderer? Anna's panic grew, swelled, swept through her like waves rushing to meet a shoreline; she felt as if she were drowning.

He asked, "Are you okay?"

She heard her own voice, its sudden tremble. "Yes.  How much further is it to the garage?"

"Not far now, just around the next bend." He turned his head, his eyes seeking to catch hers but she looked away.  

They turned a corner. Ahead a light shone dimly and she could see the outline of a building with several petrol pumps standing in its forecourt.  Relief flooded through her when the car stopped and she struggled to release the seatbelt that bound her.  With one quick movement she was out of the seat and through the double-doors of the one-story building. 

Busy behind the small counter, a mechanic looked up; his face a haggard grey under a thatch of carrot-coloured hair.  He wore dirty, greasy overalls.  Oil-stained hands were busy with a grimy cloth he rubbed against stained fat fingers.  Grey eyes stared as she moved towards him but she didn't care, she was pleased to see him, pleased to be safe. 

‘I need to use your phone. There's been an accident further up the lane,' Alan's voice came from behind her, abrupt, commanding.

Anna inched nearer to the counter smiling at the mechanic behind it.

"There's been an accident and we need help." She said, her eyes willing him to make the call.

"You can use the phone, it's here at the back."  He pointed to a door behind the counter, shuffled towards it.

Alan moved quickly, rounded the counter and reached forward as they both neared the booth and opened the door.   Squeezing past the mechanic, his arm stretched across to the phone. He pulled the door half-closed, began dialling and spoke quickly to the person on the line.  Anna stood as near to the half-closed door as she dared, but heard only the soft murmur of his voice, his words muffled against the receiver.  The thud of her heart raced against ribs held tense.  H e hadn't called the police; he'd pretended…he was playing a game…who was he talking too?  Alan put the phone down and walked out of the small booth his voice echoing in the silence.  

"Let's get back, they'll be leaving the station and waiting to question us."

Avoiding his eyes, Anna struggled for words, anything, anything that would keep her at the garage.  "I'll wait here."

"I can't leave you here. What about your car?" Alarm grew, painted his face, and filled his blue eyes with fierceness.   

Anna tried delaying, " I need the washroom…won't be a sec…" and darted for the dingy door marked -- Ladies .  

He shouted after her, his voice terse, "Better be quick, I'll be waiting outside," and walked towards the exit door.

A car door slammed, she heard the faint roar of an engine starting and thought of Alan, waiting for her.  Silent, standing in the washroom before the cracked mirror she wondered what to do next.   Should she go back with him?  Shivering at the thought she left the washroom, scarcely able to control her shaking legs as she moved slowly across the empty space towards the exit.   Where was the mechanic?  He must be near; he might be able to help her. Anna grimaced as she saw the cleared counter, felt the eerie stillness of the one-story building now shrouded in darkness.  She was alone. 

Outside the sky was starry, the car engine still running, a distant drone in the still night. Anna hesitated, walked towards it.   Alan lay across the steering wheel, blood streaming from the side of his head. The scream reached her throat; stayed, held there by frozen terror as her thoughts vied with her pounding heartbeats.  Shock paralysed, snatched at her breath, held her in its grip.

Footsteps broke the silence, unnerved her. She turned quickly, her eyes locking onto him. Unmoving, he stared back at her. She heard her own gasp as his body arched and he started towards her.  With hands clenched at his side, his wide eyes travelled her body.   She couldn't breathe; her mind refused to believe what was happening.  Her mouth opened but her scream was caught in his hand as he rammed it against her mouth, drawing blood that tasted salty against her teeth.  His other arm crept around her waist drawing her close, she could smell his sour sweat, feel the wetness of his mouth against her cheek.  His hand moved, covered the bottom half of her face until her breath became a shallow gasp that racked her chest and she knew she was dying. 

* * *

Alan's voice came from nowhere. Afraid to open her eyes she lay still, tears seeping from beneath closed lashes.  Arms tightened, holding her close with a rocking movement, backwards and forwards. She opened her eyes. His face was close, blood running from his head wound. She could see the front of his shirt stained red. His voice, concerned, whispered close to her ear.

"It's all over, you're safe now."

She opened her mouth to speak but the words stuck in her dry throat, leaving her eyes holding questions.

"I'm sorry," so low was his voice Anna could hardly hear the words.

"If I'd known I'd never have brought you here, I'd have left you with your car.  Finding you alone on that country lane… and then when you suggested driving with me to the garage… well, I could see you didn't want to be left there alone.  Darn cell phone, would have saved all this trouble, but no charge."

Alan's arms tightened, his voice grew firmer. "The police told me they've been watching him for some time. Clever devil but he had to slip up sooner or later.  Apparently a number of police officers have been surrounding the site.  I never imagined…."

His eyes searched her face; he answered before the question left her lips.

"He caught me from behind - crept up on me. Don't look so worried it looks worse that it is. An ambulance will be here soon."

"The man…the accident?"

"He's okay.  Name is Harry Burlington. Poor chap was in a fight at the local pub. He must have taken a wrong turn and ended up in the lane.  He has concussion and a superficial cut to his face.  He's in Addington Hospital ."

Anna pressed his hand unable to speak, tears falling as relief slowly flooded through her.   They sat silent until at the sound of a door slamming, she turned her head to see a small group leave the garage building and walk towards the police car standing in the shadows. Carrot-coloured hair flamed in the moonlight. Shivering, Anna huddled close to Alan.  A stranger he might be but his arms tightened and she was safe, nothing else mattered.