The Hitchhiker

"Inclement weather for the remainder of the night," the deep voice confirmed. Emma shook her head nervously and turned off the radio to concentrate on the disappearing road. "Inclement weather," she muttered, "if it gets any worse, I'll be lucky to make it home." Sleet pounded off the side of the car, as the angry winds played ping-pong with her life.

Passing another green exit sign, Emma pointed the nose of the car straight and proceeded carefully down the slippery highway. She turned the windshield wipers to high and quickly noticed they were keeping perfect beat with her heart. The new music made her angry and she cursed every meteorologist that ever guessed at the intensity of a winter storm. "Possible flurries, with no chance for accumulation," they promised. And once again they lied. If she had known "no chance for accumulation" meant cheating Mother Nature of death, then she would have stayed home and ordered Tupperware from a catalog. "All this for a set of matching plastic tumblers," she snickered. It was insane.

The white reflective lines painted on the road sparkled like beacons in the night. Hypnotized, she hugged each one and longed for the next green sign. She held her breath and still it seemed an hour had elapsed before she reached it. "Three more to go and we're home free," she announced to the car. The back end skidded a little, kicking the station wagon onto the slightest angle. The car's rebellious answer lasted no more than a second, but it was just enough time for Emma to watch her entire life pass before the sleet-smudged windshield. "Oh God," she begged. "Please just let me get home!" The sleet only picked up, while the winds pounded on each door. With white knuckles, she slid to the edge of the driver's seat and forged on.

The EXIT 9 - ASSONET sign glistened in the storm, indicating that there were only two more exits to go. Emma didn't dare let the car in on it. She felt more relief with each mile passed and gradually slid back in the seat and began to hum. Her melody was soothing, at least for a while.

Suddenly, she spotted something lurking on the side of the road. She couldn't make it out at first. Slowing to a crawl, she peered through the puddled window. A pang of fear ripped through her body. Her brain finally deciphered the message sent from her wide eyes. The strange shape was a man, and a very large man at that. His thumb was extended and a glare of desperation covered his big face. "Oh God, what do I do," she cried. The storm raged on. On any other night, there would have been nothing to think about, no dilemma to solve. She would have just passed him by, hoping that another person, more confident in his defenses, would stop and pick the hitchhiker up. But this was not any other night. She hadn't seen another car in over half an hour. A quick decision needed to be made. She only hoped it wasn't a life or death decision.

Jacob, her street-smart husband, had issued a forewarning when they first got married, "Don't ever stop to pick up anyone. With the nuts that walk this earth, you never know!" She could still hear his warning when the car skidded to a sideways stop. "I have no choice," she convinced herself, aloud. "If I don't stop, he'll die in this weather for sure!" With a paralyzing fear, she waited for the passenger side door to open. Within seconds, it did. Every hair on her body stood on end.

The large silhouette on the side of the road had done this man no justice. He stuck his head in first and Emma stopped breathing at the realization of his enormous size. The stranger was actually forced to cram various parts of his body into the car until, an eternity later, the whole of him was in. Her hands began to tremble at the sight of his giant paws. They were bleeding profusely.

The door slammed shut. Emma nearly jumped out of her gooseflesh. Almost in slow motion, the giant turned his head toward her and grinned sheepishly. He was missing a tooth. "I can't thank you enough…" he moaned, but paused when he noticed she was staring at his hands. "Yeah, the blood… sorry about that," he slurred. "I must have put them through the windshield when my car slid off the road. It's still sitting back there, in some ditch. I couldn't get it out!" The man spoke as if he were drug-induced. Emma was terrified. She never saw any stranded car.

"I appreciate it," he repeated into her giant pupils. "Mighty brave of you to stop."

Emma heard the faint echo of her husband and nearly burst into tears. She honestly couldn't believe she'd gotten herself into this. And then she realized - they were still sitting idle in the breakdown lane.

She contemplated her chances of abandoning the station wagon and successfully fleeing on foot, but those thoughts were quickly interrupted by an angry grunt. It took all the courage she had left to look over again.

The monster was running his paws across a billboard forehead. He was covered in blood, some of it trickling down his eyebrows and into his face. With one hand, he tried to cup the oozing crimson, but the other hand stayed exactly where it had been since he'd gotten into the car. It was wrapped around his heaving abdomen. He grimaced, "If you can get me to Fall River… I'd be grateful."

Emma didn't question the request. She stomped on the gas and nearly hurled the car into the guardrail.

The man said nothing, while Emma did all she could to concentrate on the driving. From the beginning of their journey together, her mind painted a thousand and one nightmares: The stranger was a murderer who hadn't had time to clean up; the giant was an escaped felon from Southeastern Correctional Center located a few towns over in Bridgewater; perhaps he was even a drug dealer who was being hunted by the police that had shot him. Her hands shook so violently on the steering wheel that she thought she'd kill them both. When her mind had finally exhausted every brutal possibility that was sure to lead to her demise, I'M SO STUPID was the only thought that remained.

Still the man didn't speak a word. It seemed peculiar, so with the sneakiness of a child, she slowly glanced over to steal a peek at her executioner. The giant was fast asleep.

She completely removed her foot from the accelerator and leaned in for a better look. He was out cold. Switching to the brake pedal, she tried desperately to ease the car to a stop. It finally happened. Through it all, the man continued to nap. She wrapped her fingers around the cold door handle when, to her surprise, a war between her heart and mind was waged. Her mind told her, "GET OUT NOW!" But, her heart said that the man was in trouble and needed help - immediate help! In all fairness, she decided to give him one last look. She turned on the interior light and instinctively, the gruesome sight made her trembling hand go to her mouth. She didn't want to scream, nor did she wish to vomit on the titan. He hadn't been sleeping at all. He'd lost so much blood that he was dying. Emma turned off the light and stomped on the gas once more. Charlton Memorial Hospital was only four miles away. Murderer, escapee or drug dealer, Emma couldn't leave another human being for dead.

Hyperventilating through the remaining miles of the dangerous trek, Emma fought off the panic that threatened to dominate her and had nearly succeeded when she pulled into the front of the hospital. She lay on the horn until grabbing the attention of the annoyed security guard. With one look, though, the old-timer called for backup. The rest seemed to transpire in slow motion.

While she watched on in horror, hospital personnel forcefully extracted the man from the interior of the station wagon, leaving a massive pool of blood in his place. When they were done, the entire interior was a gory mess. For the first time, she looked down at her clothes and saw that she was also painted in the deep crimson. "Sweet Jesus," she whispered. Not knowing what else to do, she poked out her cigarette and followed the speeding gurney into the hospital.

To be continued...