“What the hell?” Carlson couldn't help but ask aloud as he gazed down in the trunk.
Laying curled against the floor of the trunk, with a multitude of bruises and scraps, was the body of a young girl. She looked to be around eight of nine, as far as Carlson could guess. A dirty mop of reddish-brown hair fell around her face and shoulders, hiding her eyes from him. A tattered dress hung from her beaten body.
Carlson leaned closer.
“Are you alright?” he asked tentatively.
No response. He pressed his hand lightly to an exposed arm. She felt warm against his skin.
“Hey, you got to wake up kid,” he muttered with a bit more urgency as he shook her lightly.
Again, no stirring from the child. Carlson chewed the side of his cheek in nervousness.
A muffled sound suddenly rang from somewhere to his left. His eyes followed the source to the cabin of the ambulance. The vehicle suddenly bounced to one side, as if a large weight had suddenly been dropped from within. Carlson's eyebrow rose in confusion, then widened in shock as the impossible suddenly took place.
First, the tires of the car shot out in all directions from something creating a drastic force inside. The wheels crunched beneath the ambulance in one, swift motion; the suspension crashing to the ground as if it were able to squat.
Carlson could only stare with dry eyes and mouth agape as he witnessed the fabric of all he thought normal and logical tear asunder before him. Red and white lights flashed, accompanied with a deafening blare of siren. The headlights flickered, but not in pattern. The sound too, Carlson thought. Even the siren didn't sound natural. It sounded strained; almost akin to a sickeningly piercing chuckle.
He was barely able to quickly scoop the child from the trunk of what remained of the car as it was smashed into. The ambulance lumbered forward – first on one side, then the other - upon the asphalt in a horrifying show of tearing metal and impossible acrobatics. It looked to be blundering toward him.
Time to go, moron! His cynical mind seared through him like a fire tipped arrow.
He jumped back as it reared back and smashed into the car once again. The broken headlights seemed menacing somehow. They appeared to glare at him.
“We got to go, I'll take you somewhere safe.”
He wasn't sure who he was speaking to particularly. Either to the unconscious girl cradled in his arms or his own trembling self. He did not wait to ponder the thought as he heard more crunching behind him. His mind briefly pictured the grill of the lumbering machine changed to show a set of razor-sharp alloyed teeth that gnashed for his blood.
Well muscled legs kicked up in a run as he shook the thought away from his panicked mind. He heard additional noises, but refused to crane his neck to see behind. The handle of his car felt cool as he ripped the door open and nearly flung the girl to the passenger seat. His hand went instinctively to the ignition before realizing he had left the car idling. How long had it been since he had left this chair?
He gripped the cool leather of his gear shift while simultaneously slamming the car door. A harsh lurch shocked his system as he bashed the floor of the pedal with his foot. The car peeled into reverse, then accelerated forward and bent around the scene of the unimaginable. That vision of the lurching ambulance, as if it were a living, breathing thing would haunt him for a very long time. He was sure of that.
“It's over. No need to worry, just go home and figure all this out.”
He often spoke to himself aloud whenever he felt something out of his personal control. It was a bad habit, since he often had to face the embarrassment of others giving him uncomfortable glimpses if ever he caught himself in public.
Something collided hard with the glass of his windshield. His adrenaline spiked again as his face shot back in shock. A mutilated and torn Human head faced him from his now cracking windshield. A female, he quickly added in his mind.
With a muffled scream Carlson turned the wipers to full power. With a few hard clunks the head was loosened and fell away from his sight, a large bloodstain left in it's grizzly wake.
“What the hell is going-”
The road ahead was a deep, black and purple color. He barely noticed as his car skidded across the stream of oddly tinged slime. The car began to slide for a moment, as if on freshly poured oil. The next moment, a grinding sounded beneath his wheels. White knuckles gripped tightly upon the steering wheel as he attempted to gain some control.
A skittering noise sounded from somewhere beneath the vehicle. Carlson couldn't help but yelp in shock as dozens of fist-sized purple insects began furiously clambering around his windows and car. He witnessed as one of them attempted to sink it's dark fangs into the glass.
Logical thoughts were far out of reach for Carlson at this point. With one, fluid movement he placed a strong arm to his side to protect the young girl while slamming the brake. The resulting force bounced him in his seat while throwing his head mere inches from colliding with the steering wheel. What looked like hundreds of the small critters flew to the front of the car, some bouncing hard against the metal of the vehicle's body. The next instant, the car charged forward. What remained of the insects of horror that still clung to the roof and windows finally relinquished their hold. At least, Carlson hoped that was the case.
Within the chaos of thoughts and terror that swam freely around his head, the smallest sound reached his strained ears. It was a light groan, but in the state of his psyche it might as well been a great roar from a hungry lion. His head shot over to the source to see two icy blue eyes staring back at him. It startled him a bit.
“Hey there,” he said with a smile.
He began driving forward again. He glanced again to the girl. She continued staring at him. Through him.
“Are you hurt?” he asked after a beat of silence.
Still, nothing.
“Do you remember how you ended up there in that other car?”
His attempts at conversation had little affect on the girl. He thought she flinched a bit when he mentioned the other car, but she continued to sit in reverence. With an audible sigh Carlson faced forward and tried to calm his still raging nerves. He kept stealing glances to the girl, however. That griping gaze still was focused heavily upon him. He felt it boring a hole into him.
“My name's James,” he announced with a small smile, “People call me Carlson. What's yours?”
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