The car itself was a bright cherry red; headlights for eyes illuminating my extended arm, blinding me as it turned the corner of the winding road. I didn’t expect it to stop. But when it did come to a somewhat lurching halt, I found myself unprepared even though I had been walking the road’s shoulder for the past few hours. Other than the declining intensity of the sun and the slow shadow of dusk obscuring the road ahead, I had been unaware of time. Vehicles preceding were hardly a handful, each driver evidently undesiring of adding the burden of an unknown passenger to their gas bill.

Adjusting my backpack, my stomach churned with the dread provoked by unsolved abductions and serial killer documentaries. The hesitation lasting barely seconds but nevertheless following as I warily headed towards the thrumming hatchback.

“Hello,” called the man from his unrolled window, “headed this way?” He asked brightly, revealing a faint lisp. Approaching the car, I realized how the colorful paint rusted and flaked along the curves of its dark outline. Metaphor obliviously disregarded even as a shiver snaked down the back of my neck.

I cleared my throat. “I am, yes.” I could see him now, dark eyes magnified by thick glasses as he smiled crookedly and with the rest of his face cast in the eerie yellow of his interior car lights. “How far until the next motel?” My voice was tighter than I had intended.

“Bout’ twenty minutes by car, not sure for walking though.” He looked at me apologetically, wrinkles coming together to form a line in his forehead. “Name’s Dan. Happy to give you a lift if that’s what you’re looking for.” He grinned expectantly, flashing crooked teeth.

After hours of walking, standing still was like I could feel every mile ahead in my cramping muscles. Swallowing drily, I gave in. “Oh, that would be amazing.” I smiled half-heartedly, suddenly too tired to be anxious. “Thank you so much, Dan.” I weakly wrenched open the car door and felt the pressure of gravity release, melting into the cold fabric of the back seats.

“No problem, Miss.” Dan glanced at me in the rear-view mirror as his thick eyebrows climbed over the rim of his glasses. He laughed, “What on earth happened?” The car’s engine ground roughly out of park, and the interior lights blinked off. I echoed his amusement nervously while looking down at tender red and purple marks on my legs in the dusk. “Would you believe me if I said I fell in a ditch?” I laughed with him again, unconsciously picked at the dirt underneath my nails.

“Can’t say I haven’t done the same.” The shadows on his face crumpled with his entertainment. I nodded and looked away, the vehicle falling into the rhythmic silence of something rattling in the trunk along with the fitful noise of the engine accelerating. The silhouettes of trees flanked the purple fields outside the window as the road curved to reveal a sliver of the moon slowly ascending the horizon. Inside the vehicle, it smelled of old cigars and cheap air freshener. The back where I sat was empty aside from a thick layer of crumbs.

I sensed him looking at me. “First time hiking the hitch?” I could hear him scratch at his unevenly shaved jawline. “Not at all,” I lied, feeling the rigid weight of his lazy gaze. My uneasiness gradually winning back its battle against my exhaustion as my mind spun with fragments of memories and attuned to the abrupt intensity of pain in my left ankle. It appeared bigger than the right, I thought, but couldn’t confirm in dim the moonlight. As I focused on it, I became more aware of the pain on my knees, then my hands; the cuts and bruises I had sustained earlier grew quickly unbearable.

Dan’s loud sigh redirected my attention. “Beautiful road. Been traveling it for nearly ten years and still is quiet as ever.” Gazing out the window now, it was pitch black. The pavement ahead illuminated only by the sole vehicle in which I rode with a stranger. “Mind if I ask your name, Miss...?” “Amie,” I cowered inwardly at my mother’s name in replace of my own. Dan bobbed his head, satisfied with my answer. “Amie,” he smirked to himself. “I think that would be my dear Aunt Helen’s middle name.” I stretched my mouth into a stiff smile as he peered at my face for my reaction. When I made no effort to respond, he resumed, “Anywhere in particular you going, Amie? Beside the motel that is.” Dan chuckled to himself hoarsely; sound mirroring the jagged scraping of metal on metal. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Nowhere really,” the truth sat dully on my tongue, releasing an unseen heaviness from my shoulders. “South now, maybe east tomorrow.” I shrugged, pressing my lips together.

He nodded once more, yawning obnoxiously as awkward silence saturated the air. Several seconds passed before I watched his thick hand gracelessly fumbled for the radio.

“...223 south reports incident this afternoon. Single-vehicle collision with one casualty. Ongoing investigation to the cause of the crash, authorities claiming suspicious circumstances but withhold further information for evaluation.” My mouth turned unexpectedly dry, and my fingers rummaged for the zipper of my backpack. The back of Dan’s head inclined with interest as the announcer continued, "One witness claims to have seen a third party walking away from the vehicle along the highway but could not confirm if the said individual was in fact involved with the tragedy. Responding first to the scene, another witness attests “They were not the injuries someone would normally see in a car crash victim... blow to the backside of the head...” My hands danced in annoyed rhythm underneath the canvas bag in my fruitless search for water. The noise garnering the attention of the car’s other occupant.

“Lose something?” Dan’s gravelly voice pried. I ignored him, mouth filling with sand-like saliva, and I began removing items from the bag. He coughed in his throat, and the car turned too hot. I breathed heavily, feeling my heart pound rapidly in my ears over the noise of the still-talking radio.

“...this just in,” the newscaster's tone cut like glass in my head, “police now confirming the victim of the single-car crash did not die from the incident itself. Officials disclosing potential homicide investigation. The main suspect reported seen walking away from the incident was an adult female headed southbound on state highway 223...” The rest of the broadcast slipped out of my awareness and was replaced with an overwhelming ringing echoing violently inside my skull.

Tears filled my vision, and then all I could see was the broken body of the car – his favorite blood-red mustang smashed in the ditch. Plastic parts and glass shards littered like confetti in the tall grass. I was numb.

Dan’s panicked shout jerked me back into the present, “Hey!” His eyes were wild; afraid as they met mine in the reflection. “Listen, I...” He broke eye contact and worriedly scanned the road ahead.

I knew then what he knew. What he was going to say.

I squeezed my eyes shut, running a shaky hand through my hair only for my fingers the comb out dead weeds and small rocks. I laughed without noticing that Dan was saying something.

“– the next town’s only a few miles away,” the car started to crudely decelerate. “It shouldn’t take more than –”

“No!” I blurted, more forcefully than anticipated. Dan’s whole body tensed, and I hastily scoffed, “Dan...you can’t believe that I’m going to murder you.”

Hysteria reverberated off my bones. I returned to vigorously searching through my bag.

“Please...”

The man driving exhaled raggedly in a fashion that could have been a frightened form of laughter. “Well... I –” I could hear him lick his lips.

I kept digging.

“– I don’t think...” The car lurched.

I exhaled angrily, biting my tongue as I stuck my arm into the greedy mouth of the near-empty bag. Just then, my fingertips brushed the cold surface of the cylindrical object and grasped its smooth metal hidden in the deep corner of the cover. The half-filled bottle was a comforting mass, my grip tightening thirstily around its solid frame. It was dented, but that didn’t matter.

It would work just the same.