Chained

One

Sometimes driving at night takes me to another world. Especially when the twinkling lights of civilization are abandoned.

Nothing but darkness enters my vision. Only my headlights and the noise of the car remind me that there is anything in this world.

Until I see a shape in the distance.

Slowly walking down the road, like a ghostly hitchhiker, she doesn't show any awareness that a car is approaching. I can easily speed past her. I should easily speed past her.

Instead, I slow down and lower my window. "Excuse me? Miss? Hey!"

She looks over, no apprehension on her face at a strange man speaking to her. Now that I'm closer, it's easy to get a better look.

The better look makes my stomach lurch.

The young woman—she can't be more than twenty—appears as if she just escaped some sort of disaster. Barefoot, wearing a bloodstained white dress. The only thing that makes it clear that she isn't an actual ghost is the shaky way that she breathes and the trembles rippling through her body.

"Are you okay? What happened?" I ask quickly.

My girlfriend Emily thinks that I go looking for trouble. She says that I have a compulsion to help people. Sometimes she says it with affection, other times with frustration.

"You always put yourself last, Jason. You can't just help every stray that you meet."

She was right. I knew she was right.

But this time I didn't have a choice.

The young woman tilts her head as if she can't understand what I'm saying. Maybe she doesn't understand. Trauma or maybe she speaks another language.

My hand fumbles around until I locate my phone. I hold it up so that she see. "Hey, do you need me to call someone?"

"No."

The toneless word startles me. She looks like a survivor of a car wreck, but sounds so sure that she doesn't want any help.

"Are you sure?" I ask urgently. "Look I think I should call anyway..."

My words trail off as I notice that my phone is dead. And that's just strange. The battery hadn't been low at all.

In fact, everything is very silent. Aside from my car, there is a quiet that is almost suffocating. No wind, no noise at all. And the darkness of this road is overwhelming. The overcast night isn't helping things. My headlights make it seem like we're the only two people around. Like this patch of light is the only thing left in the world.

"Your phone isn't working, is it?"

I raise my head at her words. Her voice is rough and deep, somewhat contrasting with the sweetness of her face. It's like she wore her voice down during decades of vodka and cigarettes. Utterly unsurprised, she leans closer to the window. A bloody gash is illuminated on her face.

"No." I shake my head. "I don't know what's wrong. It was just fine a minute ago..."

She tilts her head and dark curls shadow her face. "Things tend to die around here."

My throat constricts at her ominous pronouncement. At that moment, I really wish I had just stayed home while Emily visited her parents. But I had to decide that I didn't want to spend Christmas alone. I had to go visit my own mother. And now I find myself in the middle of nowhere with a disturbed person.

I take a deep breath. Even if there is obviously something not quite right about this woman, it shouldn't matter. Her head is injured, she probably has trauma. She needs help.