Discombobulate

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The first time Denise turned and the red pickup truck followed her, she figured it was a coincidence. The second time she turned and it followed her, she thought it was strange. The third time, she figured they were heading to the same destination. 

That was when she turned onto a street she didn't need to go down. The truck turned on it's left turn signal and followed her. She flicked her blinker to the right on a side street and the truck followed. It went everywhere she went. 

She sped up and the truck sped up. She slowed down and the truck slowed down. She put her car to a complete stop in the middle of an empty street. Her foot pressed against the brake pedal. The truck inched up behind her and did the same. 

Her heart hammered in her chest. She watched the vehicle in her rearview mirror. Whoever was driving, she couldn't see them because their windows were tinted. 

Some people believe there are no such things as coincidences. Was it a coincidence that there was a tinted red truck trailing her around town after she was hit by one? It couldn't have been. 

Denise continued to watch the truck from the rearview mirror. She was too afraid to go back home. They'd follow her there. She didn't want to confront whoever it was, it was too dangerous. This could be anybody and she didn't know what they wanted. 

She decided to do the only thing she could do. She took her foot off the brake and headed back to her original destination. All she had to do was make it inside. There was always, at least, one officer that stayed at the station. She could find someone to help her. 

Her foot swiveled to the gas pedal. She pressed it and began her journey again. Every few seconds, her eyes darted from the road back to the mirror. The truck was further behind her now. 

That's how it went for five painstakingly long minutes. She had to remind herself to breathe now and then. Nothing bad happened yet and maybe nothing bad was going to happen. Her fingers gripped the wheel tighter. She sped up a little more as she reached the dead-end street. The truck slowed down and fell behind her even further.

Hope started to appear within her. Everything would be fine. Someone was being creepy, this was a prank too; a sick and twisted Halloween prank. 

Denise pulled her car into the front parking lot of the front entrance. An empty patrol car was parked along the far right side of the building. It had been backed in. It was ready to speed out of the parking lot.

She put the car in park and slid the key out of the ignition. She shoved it into one of her jacket pockets. She turned around to look at the truck. It had moved closer while she was parking. 

She swallowed her fear and reached over to the glove box. She pulled Jennifer's journal out and picked up an espresso. She was too nervous to touch her bagel and espresso. She could consume them after she talked to Detective Mullen. 

The lights in her car turned on after she opened her door. One foot was out of the car and one foot was in. She stepped out and swung the door shut. The truck's engine revved.

She watched in horror; an exact repeat of what happened at Opal's. The smell of diesel filled her nostrils. She launched herself forward and onto the sidewalk. 

A curb was created with six inches of cement. She landed on top of it. The journal flew out of her hand. Detective Mullen's espresso hit the ground. The plastic lid popped open. Brown liquid splattered across the sidewalk. 

A crunch filled the air. 

Denise landed on her palms and knees. The flesh of her right hand ripped apart as it scraped the sidewalk. The skin over her knees burst open. Her sweatpants didn't provide protection. The pants tore from the friction created against the sidewalk.