by Steven Zelko
back in his seat and his jaw slackens.
Overhead the sun continues to the bake the landscape to burnt.
After several long moments the Driver blinks hard and shakes his head. He positions the mirror back so he can see behind the car. A Phase III moving at speed grows in the middle of the reflection. He grasps at the door handle but as he does the vehicle screams past the driver’s side sending dust into the Driver’s open window. He coughs violently. He spits the sand out of his mouth and leaps from his seat out to stand in the middle of the highway.
“Hey!” He yells at the back of the vanishing vehicle. “Wait!”
The car continues to rush away from him. He cranes his head forward and squints at it. The back of a 1970 Ford Falcon XY stares back at him. He searches the license plate but the dust from the tires and the heat from the sun obscure it. He makes out the last two numbers. Seven and five. He walks around to the front of his own car. The last two numbers are the same. He turns to the barren landscape.
“What. The fuck. Is going on?!”
His voice speeds away from him and a deafening silence replaces it.
The Driver stands alone in the middle of a highway surrounded by empty desert boarded by a vacant blue skin.
A solitary ant crosses the sand in front of the Driver’s boots. Above it the man grits his teeth and walks over to the abandoned car. He stops a few feet short of it and scans the body.
“Car.” Caws the Gargoyle.
The Driver reels around at the sound. Just above the driver’s side door of his car sits the Gargoyle. The Driver frantically runs at the bird. It lightly hops from the frame of the car and hovers backwards into the sky. The Driver’s car stands between them. The Driver turns around and walks back to the abandoned vehicle. It is covered with the same red sand that fills the landscape. He wipes a layer of sand from the trunk of the car. Underneath the paint looks fresh. He walks over and kicks one of the tires. His boot bounces back stiffly. He walks around the side of the car and wipes one of the windows clean. The interior of the car is pristine, unaffected by the hostile surroundings. On the front seat sits a briefcase and a water bottle. The Driver immediately stands up and turns to his own car. The Gargoyle is perched above the driver’s side door again. He gives the car the same look he gave himself in the rearview mirror: confusion. He turns back to the window of the abandoned car. He scans the interior. There is nothing else inside it.
The Driver stands up straight and looks over to his car again. The Gargoyle is gone. He crosses the black ribbon and absentmindedly reaches for the door handle. It is locked. He steps back and looks down at it. He tries it again. It is still locked. He shakes the handle. It doesn’t open. He reaches deep into his pocket and retrieves his keys. He presses the Unlock button on the ignition key and the neutral sound of electric doors is heard from behind him. He automatically turns and sees the last flash of the indicators on the abandoned car blink. Above the trunk of the car the Gargoyle stares at him. He reaches for the door handle of his own car again. It doesn’t open. He leans in and peers into the window. The car is empty. The Driver slowly stands up straight, his glazed-over eyes looking but seeing nothing.
He turns around again and wearily looks up and down the highway. Emptiness and heat vapours greet him. The scorched ground bakes before his eyes. He walks over to the other car and gingerly opens the passenger side door. He reaches in and picks up the water bottle resting against the briefcase and appraises it for a moment. He turns it around in his palm, the liquid slowly oscillating as he does. He looks back at his car and pictures the now empty seat where his things once were. He looks back to the water bottle in his hand. His thirst overwhelms him, he pops the top and drinks deeply. The water is cool and when he pulls the bottle away from his mouth, a relieved sigh expands through the entire top-half of his body. A smile begins to form on his face and offers the bottle to the Gargoyle. It cocks its head sharply to its left. Its eyes examine the Driver from a different angle.
The Gargoyle hops in a half-circle toward the back of the car and begins knocking on it with its beak. The Driver replaces the cap of the bottle and throws it back on the passenger’s seat. He closes the door and moves around the car towards the trunk. The Gargoyle flies itself away from the man. It perches itself high on the driver’s side door whilst not breaking eye contact. The Driver reaches for the handle of the trunk and presses the release button. The trunk pops open into his palm. He slowly opens it. The curled-up remains of a person covered by a small blanket stare back at him. The Driver reels backwards from the car. The Gargoyle screeches loudly. The Driver loses his feet and falls back landing heavily in the red sand.
V
The sun sizzles the earth around the car as the Driver leans against its hubcap. The lid of the trunk remains open as the chest of the Driver raises and falls raggedly. The sheet covering the body flaps as a gust of wind passes. The Driver slowly looks up at the sound. His eyes glaze. He looks across at his own car on the other side of the road. He focuses on the locked trunk. He reaches inside his jacket and retrieves his keys. He presses the Unlock button. The indicator light above his head flashes while the dull sound of the doors unlocking comes from behind him. The chest of the Driver raises and falls again.
A light tapping makes its way from the front of the vehicle across the roof toward the trunk. It lands on the lid and stops. The Driver doesn’t move at the sound. Wings flap into the air and then drop down into the open trunk. The Driver screams in pain, grabs the wound at his side and springs to his feet. He catches sight of the Gargoyle’s beak pecking the side of the body beneath the blanket with carrion intent. He screams again. The bird takes flight out of the trunk, screeching at the Driver as it ascends. The Driver screams back at the bird then winces in pain. He removes his palm from his side and sees that fresh blood has stained it.
The Gargoyle lands back on the Driver’s car and stares longingly across the black tar. The Driver lingers close to the open lid. He spies the bird. It settles down on the car. The Driver looks up and down the highway. His gaze stops halfway between the sand and the horizon. He presses his baked lips together. Exhausted, he wipes them with the back of his hand. He turns towards the passenger side of the car where the briefcase and bottle of water sit. He takes a deep breath, reaches for the trunk lid and brings it down. He walks around the back of the vehicle. He opens the door, turns his body, and relaxes his tired frame deep into the leather seat. Painstakingly he draws the bottle of water up. He removes the top completely and brings the bottle towards his lips. He eases the contents towards his mouth and carefully sips. His eyes close as the life-giving fluid flows around his gums. He brings the bottle away from his mouth as his body shudders with delight and relief. He replaces the cap on the bottle and eases the back of his skull into the headrest. Effortlessly, the Driver begins to drift.
Abruptly he wakes to the blurry shadow of a man looming over him. It is dressed in black and is tapping a long bony finger into the middle of his chest. The Driver instinctively reaches out for it. He blinks his eyes hard as his arms grope outward. The figure shifts and recoils. The outline of the Gargoyle reels back from the Driver’s stomach and out of the car. The Driver’s hands reach for his chest out of fear. He pats his body down, checking for blood, but finds nothing. He sits up and rubs the rest of his vision clear to search for the bird. He finds the Gargoyle hopping across the sand a few yards from the open car door, repeatedly striking the ground with its raven beak. The Driver cocks his head to the side and silently questions the blackbird. It makes no reply.
As the Driver exits the car, the Gargoyle half hops then flies backward revealing the hole it has created in the sand. The bird then lands lightly on the lid of the trunk. The Driver looks at the hole then back toward the trunk. He swallows hard and licks his cracked lips. He turns back to the car in search of water he has left but finds nothing but an empty bottle. He curses loudly. His eyes flare and he quickly turns on the Gargoyle for answers. The bird stares deeply at th
e man and then its head twitches derisively. Anger seeps out of the Driver. He grits his teeth and pushes himself out of the car.
The Driver rushes back across the road towards his own car. Furiously he presses the Unlock button on his keys but it does little besides make the indicators on the abandoned car behind him dance. He clenches the keys in his palm, turns his arm inward and slams the butt of his elbow through the driver’s side window. He reaches through the broken glass, sticks the keys in the ignition and turns them. Nothing happens. The Driver swears to himself. He tries again. The muted sound of thick metallic clicking from the starter motor echoes from the front of the car. He swears again as his chest heaves in despair. He turns around to the abandoned car and contents of its trunk.
The Driver crosses the road between the twin cars. Reluctantly he opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat. He inhales deeply as he eases the keys into the ignition. He stares at the familiar gauges in front of him. He shifts uneasily in the seat. He turns the keys. The engine roars into life as though it had just